F Campbell - Margo

There was much talk of whips and canes and riding crops, but remarkably few scarlet bottoms. Such punishments were for emphasis only, and in any case, a girl had only so much skin to offer and once it's been used. Since what Rossland had most of was time, most punishments were designed to use it to the best advantage. A maiden who approached some form of bondage with an insouciance and lack of concern in the morning would later, when released, be a much more tractable young woman. A girl might be bound in lonely solitude or with a second girl in a similar plight. Or she might be one of a group. The Academy was infinitely resourceful.

One morning, shortly before the end of her initiation period, Jean Evans spoke.

"Just hands and arms today, darling. Aren't you lucky?"

Margo reserved judgment. She stood and got her usual thrill from the binding of her hands behind her back. It was not until the task had been finished and she was firmly knotted that she realized that they had been tied palm to palm instead of the usual crossed wrists position. When rope found her elbows and drew them slowly tighter and tighter until they touched, the initiate realized this could be one of the worst days. Her shoulders were wracked back hard and taut, thrusting her breasts into a most attractive elegance. Her nipples, for reasons of their own, chose to protrude in the same proportion and to become flint hard and immensely sensitive to the touch. When Jean Evans ran a mischievous hand across their tips, it was to evoke a startled gasp from their owner.

The girls exchanged glances. They understood.

It was strange to be so helpless and yet look down at one's own nakedness and see no single bond beyond the usual shackles. Next, Margo was lead to a square, six-inch post running from floor to ceiling.

Its vertical length seemed innocent enough. But by the time Jean had bound the already trussed arms and hands back tight against the wood, it took on a more personal connotation. The girl was, in a sense, not bound to it at all. It was her arms and hands which were tied to the wooden surface. Because they were attached to the rest of her, by virtue of her shoulders, she stand at their pleasure.

"A girl looks her absolute best when she's tied like this," Jean assured her. "You're a knockout!"

For brief moments, the structured girl was proud of what Jean had made of her. From a frontal view, she was a Venus without arms at all. Her arms ended at her shoulders and were lost from view. But she already was increasingly conscious of pain. A girl with bound elbows knows indeed of helplessness. To struggle was futile. She could reach nothing, and the pain doubled.

"Oh, Jean, this is awful. Must my elbows be tied so they meet? Must they? Couldn't you just tie them to the post in a sort of ordinary way?"

The answer was both understood and unrewarding. Jean simply patted the captive's cheeks and said, "There, there, darling. You'll have to put up with it. But do remember, while you stand like that, you are the most beautiful thing in the world. I almost envy you, but not quite! Don't bother to shout for help or tell somebody how bird it is. If you do, somebody may gag you. Bye-bye for now."

So simple. Such a joyous thing between two girls. Such rapport. But left alone, the naked girl whose only visible bonds were the leg irons on her feet soon felt close to tears. The pain was an endless nag. It was not dependent on her struggling or her position. There was only one position and that was to stand straight upright very much at attention Margo could swear her arms were bound with hot metal wires becoming increasingly incandescent. It was as though back behind the post were was a creature intent upon her torture. She tried to move, but the ropes told her curtly it would be wisest to stand absolutely still.

Miss Harridance was an unexpected visitor. By the time she had arrived, Margo was seriously debating taking a chance on screaming or calling out. Surely if her pleas and cries were piteous enough, someone would rescue her. But Miss Harridance immediately took command.

"It's bad, isn't it, dear? We do understand." Her smile was beneficent. "I'm very pleased with you through this process of initiation, but your prelude to Rossland would not be complete without the elbow tie." She frictioned the still arrogant breasts and nipples, and nodded wisely at the resultant gasps she evoked. Her hand went lower and sought the inevitable place to test, presumably for secretions. However, she made no mention of what she found there, and by the time Margo herself was unconcerned. Miss Harridance could have found a blazing fire or got herself a very wet hand for all she scared. Gaspingly, she struggled to speak.

"This is too awful. I can't stand it. I'm terribly sorry, Miss Harridance, but I really can't stand it. Please give me a break."

"One of the nice things about being a captive girl, such as yourself, is that no one pays any attention to anything you say," Miss Harridance explained evenly. "You will discover a reaction in yourself to thins being ignored. I'm quite sure you are certain you will die, or that you will lose your arms, or some other disaster will befall you. You want, in some way, to impress upon me the enormity of these hazards and your own horror at what you foresee."

The headmistress smiled and patted a flushed cheek.

"Forget it, dear. Just simply forget it. You are going to stand like that for the period of your sentence, and I'm not going to tell you how long that is. The experience will be a memorable one for you. We usually confine the elbow tie to a girl in transit. It keeps them tractable and humble. A girl with bound elbows has little thought for anything except to be untied. It is a most admirable control. After you have endured it and been released, you will agree."

"But it's still too awful. I didn't bargain for anything like this with Mr. Ross."

"Obviously not, or you would not be here."

Miss Harridance's logic was irrefutable. Her next remark was pure Rossland.

"Would you like me to introduce an orgasm for you, dear?"

The bound nakedness gasped in astonishment. While she was gathering her wits to reply, the headmistress blandly continued.

"I refuse to compete with shackled ankles, dear. But a woman's hands are tremendously potent, or don't you know?"

"No, thank you."

"I do understand, dear. Your embarrassment is reaching main waves. You are quite delightful. I asked you a question, but it was purely rhetorical. You have nothing to say about what I may or may not do to you. Let me give you an example."

The hand was potent indeed! From the moment it sought her most private place, the agony of her arms was forgotten. Margo gasped and gasped again, and stared to find the eyes of authority very close to her own. They were searching, totally in command and soon took on the absorbed air of erotic possession. Margo herself closed her eyes and delivered herself to sensation. The hand provoked her flesh in ways she had never dreamed. Miss Harridance was a female of versatility.

She was moreover exactly that: female.

It was hard to be alone again. True, the influence of the headmistress remained long after she was gone. The bound girl stood in a daze of mesmerized possession, a glowing aftermath of female joy. But then, little by little, her elbows once more took possession and sang their litany of anguish. But their owner now was willing to believe she might survive.

There was also the memory of the bare room and the two girls who kept her company. It was extremely simple and had a certain decorative quality about its punishment. All three were hanging froth the ceiling by bound hands, their toes only inches from the floor in an exasperating temptation to continually search for it. One link of the connecting chain would touch the floor below when she hung limp. Care had been taken to preserve their wrists. They had been bound with bandages, which made a neat, tight bond which was circled by the tethering rope and drawn high. The greatest distress each girl suffered was wracked shoulders and strained arms. Left alone after first being raised from the floor, each one of them essayed to struggle and explore the limits of her bonds. In so doing, each maiden was able to see herself mirrored in the naked distress of her companions. Whatever she was doing, they did too, until in the end each one of them hung limply and passively in resignation to their day.