Frank Campbell - Bound Ankles

“Ugh! Hate this thing,” the other girl repeated. “Didn’t tell you my name, did I? I’m Donna. What’s your name?”

Donna sighed. “I’m Donna, too.”

“Well, ain’t that a coincidence! Imagine two girls being kidnapped and they turn out to have the same name! Wow!”

“Common name,” muttered Donna.

“Yeah, well, still...” The other girl looked at Donna more closely. “Those whip marks on your breasts?”

“Yes. They whipped me at that house. I made the mistake of trying to fight them.”

“Oh, wow. Your ass marked up too? I can’t see around there.”

“Yes, my bottom is marked up, too.”

“Yeah. Well, I ain’t got a good whipping and don’t want one. One guy hit me with a small whip when I first got here. That hurt my ass. They’d better not plan on whipping me. On your breasts, wow!”

A welcome silence again descended. Donna found this girl’s chattering to be unpleasant, an additional torture to have to endure. Her shoulders and hands and pussy hurt enough, she didn’t have to be assaulted by this stupid creature. Where was a gag when you needed one?

Five minutes later: “Never will forget that guy and gal who bought your twins.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He had the funniest voice, you know, all rough sort of. Here’s this average looking guy and when he speaks it’s all sort of, what do they call that, gravel? Yeah, that’s it, gravely voice. Don’t hear too many people like that, you know.”

Donna sighed inwardly. At least it was something else to tell Nigel and Jan.

“Yeah, and that gal, she was different too. Don’t see too many girl’s with tattoos.”

“Tattoos?”

“Yeah, she had this little rose tattooed on her ankles. Probably something she had done back when she was a teenager or something. Some girls do stupid things, you know.”

“What color was this tattoo?”

“Well, red, of course. That’s the right color for a rose, you know.”

“I don’t suppose you noticed anything else unusual about those two?”

“No, that’s it. Don’t see what difference it makes. From what I hear, you and I are going to get sold. One girl says that most of us get sold to real rich sheiks in those places where all the oil is.”

“Sheiks.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Well, I figure life in a harem can’t be too bad, you know. Like sitting around all day in a fancy place ain’t too bad. And if some old Arab sticks his wick in me now and then, well that ain’t anything new.”

Donna didn’t doubt that.

“So I figures maybe I sort of work my way up to number one wife pretty soon. I got a face and body better that those Arab women, you know. Some shrike gotta like me best. Just natural.”

The conversation was cut mercifully short by the arrival of the same two guards. They took the ropes off Donna and lifted her down. She was glad to get her pussy off that really rather thin metal pipe.

“Hey, you bastards, get me down off this thing! My Dad’s gonna kick your asses when he finds out about this. He’s rich, he can do it.”

The closing door was merciful to Donna. She was led back down the corridor and to the same lounge where she saw Nigel and Jan standing by the entrance.

“Here is your slave, all safe and sound,” oozed Rashad, sounding not unlike a used car salesman. “I’m sure she enjoyed her little visit with my dungeon.”

“That’s fine,” said Nigel, dismissing the subject. “So it’s set. Next Wednesday, here. Fine.” He watched as Jan put the jacket back on Donna to cover her bound arms. She also pulled down Donna’s skirt where the men had carelessly left it hiked up around her hips.

Rashad escorted them to the front door and their car. Donna didn’t like the way his eyes kept devouring her body. Too much like a cat with one paw on the tail of a mouse and anticipating the fun to come.

No one spoke until they were back on public streets. “Nigel, what are we going to do?”

“Well, first we won’t show up next Wednesday,” he said.

“Donna will appreciate that.”

“What?” asked their slavegirl from the back seat.

“I just promised to sell you to Rashad next Wednesday. He’s having an auction then and figures we can find something else we will like than.” He was silent for a minute. “Looks like he doesn’t have the twins. We practically told him we would pay any amount of money for young teenage girls with spirit. If he had the girls, he would have offered them. A man like that smells money a mile away.”

Jan looked like she was going to cry.

“The twins were sold to a man and a woman,” said Donna. Nigel slammed on the brakes. “What!”

“They were sold to two different people,” Donna said. “My arms are hurting, if you untie them, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“You’ll tell me right now or you’ll live in pain for the next month!” screamed Jan.

Donna meekly told them all she had heard. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I could find out.”

“Well, that’s certainly more than we learned,” commented Nigel dryly. A man with a gravely voice and a woman with a rose tattoo on her ankle. Not much but something. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, Nigel, please! Heaven only knows what’s happening to those girls! They could be maimed or even dead.”

“Don’t worry, dear. Most people who buy a slavegirl take good care of her. It’s an investment, you know. They won’t throw away good money.”

“But... Oh, Nigel, I hope you’re right.”

“Did Margaret ever do anything to you or Donna that would permanently damage you?”

“She caused plenty of pain,” Jan said bitterly. “There are people who enjoy hurting a girl.” She paused to look at Nigel and then at Donna. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that... Not if you keep it within reason. Not like Margaret.”

“For all her evil intent, even Margaret made sure you two were fed and had a place to sleep at night.”

“You didn’t see those bird cages. The food was good but nothing else was.” Jan was very bitter again.

“They’ll be okay,” offered Donna. “Those girls are survivors, they’ll make out.”

The rest of the ride was in silence. They walked Donna back up to the hotel room, removing her jacket only when behind closed doors. Jan untied the girls hands, ordered her to remove the clothing, and then refastened her hands crossed behind her back in a way that felt like coming home.

“My dear,” began Nigel after seeing that Donna was naked and tied as was proper, “Maybe the two of you would like to go back to my cabin at Big Bear. This may take some time to track down.”

“Nigel, please...”

“I will do my best. But you’ve got to understand that I don’t have much to go on.”

“You’re right,” said Jan with a sigh. “We have to be patient. Donna and I will go back to the lake. Better to wait there than in this hotel room. Nigel, please do what you can.”

“I will. And you make sure that Donna is keep properly bound up at all times.”

“Silly man. I should know how to keep a slavegirl secured and happy.” She went to Nigel and put her arms around him. Then she whispered in his ear.

Nigel brightened. Donna frowned. Nigel and Jan leaped on Donna. Donna sighed. Soon Donna was sitting in a chair, arms tightly bound behind the back of it, ankles drawn up and tied near the seat, her whole body wrapped tightly to the chair, and her mouth filled with panties held in place by more of that damned tape around her head. She could also not see since another pair of panties had been pulled over her face and taped on. The bed springs were squeaking and moans of pleasure were coming from the general direction of the bed.

This went on for a long time. It wasn’t until late that Donna was untied from her chair and allowed to pull the tape off her head. Nigel was gone. Jan looked al little more happy, and there were faint rope marks on her wrists and ankles. Donna didn’t comment but allowed her hands to be crossed and hound behind her back, then went to the bathroom while room service brought dinner. After dinner they packed what little they had and went to their borrowed car for a long drive back up to Big Bear Lake and Nigel’s house there.