Frank Campbell - Bound Ankles

Donna wondered if being hung that high in a tree would make her a nice view for someone outside Margaret’s estate.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone seeing her,” Margaret sneered, as if she had read Donna’s mind. “I made sure that this tree can’t be seen by anyone. A naked girl hanging in a tree might just be enough to make someone call the police. I could take care of the matter, but would rather not have the mess on my hands. No, slave, your precious Jan won’t be seen by anyone. And she’ll get to spend the entire day swaying in the breeze a long way from the ground.”

As Donna was led back towards the house, her last view of Jan clearly showed the fear on her pretty face. Anyone would be afraid if they were suspended over so much empty air. Donna almost offered to take Jan’s place but remembered that such an offer had only earned her more punishment the day before. And hadn’t lessened Jan’s suffering one bit.

The twins were in the same room as they had been the day before but were not bound in the same manner in their upright cages. Margaret Summers had made certain that the girls would not escape. At first, all Donna could see was that the two narrow cages had been lowered on their sides on the floor and now held the wooden boxes all four of them had been shipped to Margaret’s in. But when Margaret had Julie open one of the cages, and then the box, Donna found Pip inside. The naked teenager still had her arms bound behind her. In addition, her legs were tied at the ankles, above and below the knees. But what made escape impossible for the young girl was that she was bent over into a ball and tightly crushed to the bottom of the box by the wide leather strap. Someone, probably Julie, had buckled the strap so tight that Donna was sure Pip had to be very, very uncomfortable. And she couldn’t imagine any way that the teenager could possible escape from this bondage. Julie replaced the lid of the box and screwed it back down. Then she closed and locked the cage door. Since the cage was only a tiny bit bigger than the box, there was no way Pip could have pushed the wooden lid off even is she were free of the strap and ropes.

“You’re cruel,” Donna told Margaret. “What have those girls ever done to you to deserve this?”

“Nothing,” admitted Margaret. “It’s what they could do if they were to get loose. I have considerable influence over the police but there are other authorities besides the local police, you know. Like the FBI. Kidnapping is a federal offense, and a single call to the FBI could make a lot of trouble for me.” She smiled at Donna. “So I make sure the girls can’t escape.” Then she added, “You will, of course, be punished for calling me cruel.”

Donna gulped. But it had been her own fault. She would have to learn to curb her tongue with this new mistress. She was not forgiving, like Jan had been.

“The problem is the twins,” mused Margaret. “I will enjoy having you as a slavegirl for many, many years. I’ll keep you in constant restrictions, of course. And I’ll whip you whenever I feel like it. And Jan is no problem. I’ll keep her a permanent prisoner, just like you. Only she’ll be punished every day. Every day she’ll ride the Horse, or hang from a tree, or be whipped.” Margaret paused to catch her breath. “Or have the soles of her feet beaten so bad that she won’t be able to walk for a week. Or I might make her wear metal nipple clips for a week just to see if there is any permanent damage. Never made a girl wear them longer than I did you yesterday. And yours look like they’re still sore.”

“Yes, Mistress, they are,” Donna said after noting Margaret’s slight pause.

“Good. There are so many punishments, so little time!” She seemed pleased with her observation. Then she turned serious. “But the twins are a problem. What to do with them? I really don’t want to have to watch them every second, afraid that they’ll work their way out of some ropes or handcuffs. They have the most slender wrists, you know. It’s fun to whip them or watch them suffer in tight bondage. But I have you and Jan for that. And I think they’re a little young to be of use to me in bed. So what do I do with them?” She paused as if expecting an answer from Donna. “Can’t let them go, and keeping them is a pain in the ass. What to do, what to do? Oh, well, I’ll figure out something. Meantime there’s you to do something with. Hmmmmm...”

Donna tried to look very obedient and submissive.

Suddenly Margaret turned to Julie and snapped, “Bury her.” Then she was gone, leaving a shocked naked slavegirl and grinning black girl.

Donna was led to another area of the garden hidden around the side of one of the wings of the house. There she saw a square area marked off with wooden beams set in the ground. The middle, which was about ten foot by ten foot, was all sand. It looked like a giant children’s sandbox. There was also a pile of sand with a hole next to it. Julie sat Donna down on a bench beside the sandbox and unlocked the leg irons. They were quickly replaced by ropes tightly binding her ankles together. Then some more rope was added around her legs above the knees, also cinched down and tightly pressing into her skin. Julie added some rope linking Donna’s elbows, not trying to make them touch because with crossed wrists that would be impossible or damned nearly so, but pulled in towards each other so her arms were solidly roped. Then she literally picked up the naked bound package and placed the slavegirl in the hole. As Donna sat there, her legs stretched out before her, she realized that the level of the sand, if evened out, would come to about her chin.

Julie began working with a shovel and Donna watched as her legs disappeared. “Just up to my neck?” she asked meekly.

“Just up to the neck. But don’t ever get Margaret mad at you. I wouldn’t put it passed her to bury you head down.” She shoveled away. Donna’s legs were totally covered and the sand level slowly raising up her hips.

“How long?” Donna asked.

“When her high and mighty says take you out.” Julie stopped to rest on the shovel. “One time she left me in the sand all day and all night. Wasn’t much fun but I’ve had worse.” She resumed shoveling.

“Won’t I be able to wiggle my way out?”

“No. You won’t be able to move much ’cause of the ropes. But the weight of the sand is the main problem. There’ll only be a few feet on top of your legs but you won’t be able to move them at all. Take my word for that.”

As the sand rose up her tummy, Donna asked, “Julie, what will Margaret do with the twins?”

“I don’t know. But I got an idea and it ain’t pretty.”

“She won’t kill them!” Donna exclaimed in fear,

“No. She’s mean as hell and loves to torture girls. But she won’t kill no one. Least not deliberately. No, she won’t kill them. But, if I’m right they’ll meet with a fate worse than death.”

Julie continued shoveling and would not elaborate on her comments, leaving Donna in a quandary. What did she mean? What horrible fate did the teenage girls Donna loved face?

Before she knew it, the sand was above her shoulders and Julie was carefully smoothing it around her neck. Then she got up and tossed the shovel aside. “Okay, now try to get out.”

Donna did as ordered but was surprised to discover that she was, indeed, a prisoner of the sand. Not only were her legs immobile, her body was solidly held in sandy claws. She could move her neck and shift the sand around it a little but that was all. But it wasn’t too uncomfortable. The ropes were a little tight but Donna had certainly felt worse. “What’s the torture?” she asked. “Does it begin to hurt?”

Julie laughed. “Oh, it gets uncomfortable, all right. But the worst thing comes from not being able to move at all. Even in your cages at night you can wiggle around some. You’ll find that not being able to move at all is much worse.” Then she grinned. “And the itches! For some reason the sand gets to itching after four or five hours. Ever have an itch you can’t scratch?”