F Campbell - Golden Wrists

“That’s the classic line of whores.”

“So, okay, I’m a whore.” Lady Rose struck a pose, a very sexy and flattering pose. “Why don’t you take your clothes off, Diane? That is your name, isn’t it?”

“You’re being impudent,” I said severely. “What do you expect to happen to you here at Rockley?”

“Kissing your cunt, is there anything else!”

“You spoke of being whipped?”

“Oh, sure, that goes along with the scene. Whip me, I won’t howl any louder than the other girls.” Her attitude became sly, “I’d love to whip you, too. Would you like that?”

It was evident Lady Rose was a handful. Considering those waiting my attention down in the cage, I had no time to waste. I went to the pillory and raised its yoke. Before she placed her neck and hands where they belonged, this brash young woman of nineteen kissed me hard as though to emphasize the offers she had made. Then, quite passively, placed her neck in the wood and thrust her wrists to where I could lock them tight. For very sure no girl beneath my command could be allowed the initiative. Beneath watching eyes I selected a suitable whip.

“The other girls all got caned,” came the accusing voice. She actually sounded triumphant.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, I suppose not. I’m accustomed to being whipped. But the thing is, are you taking me up on my offer, Diane? I’ll make you terribly happy.”

“No, I’m not. Forget your notions of preferred treatment. You’ve been bad and I’m going to teach you a lesson.” I demonstrated by cutting a line across the white loveliness across Lady Rose’s back on which I now discerned the lingering marks of previous inflictions. “I think you’re a masochist but I’ll try my best to change your mind about what I am. You’re going to get twenty.”

The poor girl dissolved and, as I whipped the back and bottom she could not shield, she finally wept amid the cries of anguish. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Diane, not any more. Please, I can’t stand any more! Please stop whipping me.”

Thus Lady Rose met my whip. They came in great variety and all were mine to do with as I pleased!

It took me a week to induct them all. During that time I would occasionally view them through the bars of their cage, noting the increasing nudity in handcuffs and the diminishing ranks of those still clothed who saw in their stripped companions their future. As I worked through girl after girl, I realized that having them all captive in a single cage robbed their interview with me of drama and suspense. Whenever I found a girl blasé in her knowledge of events. I raised the ante from six to ten, or even ten to twenty if appropriate. For the first time in my legal career, I was winning every Case.

Some of my little girls limped back to the cage in a sorry state.

Twenty strokes across a bare bottom must leave its mark both on the tender flesh and their minds. These were girls who always had things their own way. They weren’t now!

As I drew near the end of these interviews, I became increasingly aware of a willingness to please. The girls who stood before me now had lost a good deal of their brazen attitude. There was one exception in the person of Elizabeth Lord who I interviewed immediately after she entered the door of Rockley. She radiated anger and a strength enough to level these stone walls. She was a married woman.

There was no great difference in our ages, perhaps five years.

Lady Elizabeth Lord stood before my desk in seething anger of a woman scorned. Here was no school girl requiring a caned rump. This one would well tax my knowledge of human nature to the limit. She did not wait for me to speak.

“I do not wish to be divorced. I value my marriage.” She was assessing me shrewdly while she spoke. “I can well imagine what this place is and I am well prepared to put up with a certain amount of pain and indignity to satisfy the idiot who sent me here. Perhaps we may find a mutual interest?”

“For instance?”

“If you’re a lesbian, I will service you. I am condemned to being striped by a whip. You will discover this in the notes I’ve just handed you, I believe I’m also condemned to other things, Herbert was a very angry man when he sent me here. But I’m sure you and I can work something out, I don’t want any of his lousy punishments.”

This one was not going to be easy. To gain time, I casually requested, “If you would be kind enough to remove your clothes?”

She stripped without comment The girl was adult and one for whom I felt sympathy. She was victim to a man!

“I have no choice but to mark your skin,” I told her reasonably.

“If I send you home without whip marks, I betray my trust.”

“Read on a bit, Miss Durrant, I’m not a bit sure you’re going to send me home.”

She was right! The terms of reference made Elizabeth Lord subject to indefinite imprisonment accompanied by most definite punishments. I cringed as I read her husband’s male fantasies of what his wife deserved, Elizabeth was beautiful. Elizabeth was intelligent. I wondered what I would do with her.

“You’re wondering if I belong here, aren’t you?” she said softly, “I don’t belong her and Herbert is doing this to me only to humiliate me and break me down. I suspect I’m about to join a bunch of frightened little girls?”

“How did you guess?” I tried to match my tone to hers. “Would you prefer to be separated in a separate cell?”

“Good gosh, is it really that bad!”

She stood there in her exceptional nudity and gazed askance. “What the devil am I up against?”

I did my best to explain. The youngsters were food for lust but this mature girl was something more. Desire follows no reason for any path. I desired Elizabeth with ever fiber of my being. Power and consequence radiated from Elizabeth in an aura I could not deny. While I had been in thought, her eyes had roved and lit upon the pillory. In laughing unconcern, she stepped across the room to where the grim and ugly contraption waited its next victim. She lifted and yoke and left if fall again to ask gaily, “Do I have to stand in this? Really?”

“I’m afraid you do.”

“Well, don’t let’s shed any tears over it Don’t worry about being a bitch. I’m actually curious.”

I began to understand why a man might send this glorious creature to Rockley, desiring her whittled down to a size he could handle, or with which he could compete. I was forced to recognize that from the moment she entered my office, she had held the initiative. For a few moments I had a vision of her contorting under my whip, I could think of no other way by which she might be subdued. But the vision faded without stirring my loins or generating the lust of punishment I felt so easily for the teenage flesh below stairs. Ignoring the pillory, I took her by the hand and led her upstairs to my bed. She made no demure, either about her nakedness or my intent She could read my mind, and when I, too, had shed my clothes, she acquitted herself with a competence and ardor I know I could easily enjoy for a long time. Here was a Woman!

I had forgotten the whip marks on my skin. But Elizabeth now traced them with an exploring fingertip with the vivid curiosity I would come to recognize was very much a part of all she was. I promised that one day I would tell her of their origin, but for the moment she had best keep quiet about them, Flippantly I told her they were my ‘badge of office.’

“Will I be marked like that?” she asked in innocence.

“Yes.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll hate it, of course, but it’s something I’ll have to know about. That silly man believes it’s something that will change my personality. Will it?”