F Campbell - Margo

"Sort of. The better element of society doesn't dabble in kidnapping. I had to take what I could get. I needed Bernie for moving that tree and bopping poor Henry. I'm sure he'll be recovered by now and able to write a check."

"You're not going to let Bernie do things to me, are you? I mean, the way you've got me tied and the way he talks, it'd be easy for him to… well, you know."

"Fuck you? Darling, say it out loud. You don't need to be frightened of the word. It is so beautifully suited to the situation. I'm pretty sure Bernie doesn't know any other name for it. If you spoke of intercourse, he'd probably think it was something to do with a racetrack. Just leave everything to me. If I do let him screw you, it'll be because I believe it's the wisest course for us both." Bea gazed down with some degree of tenderness at the girl so totally in her power. "I suppose I could do the heroic thing and let him screw me instead, but that's carrying the thing a bit far. I'm supposed to be on top of this whole affair, not underneath. Cheer up. I'm not going to let you get really hurt."

Bea seated herself comfortably at the side of her captive. Her hands strayed to nipples which could not evade their frictioning. Amused, she said, "Darling, I'd like you to tell me something about Rossland. You've been there, but I haven't. It must be the damnedest place. I want to play with you and get you nicely excited while you talk."

Margo supposed the plight of a captive could be much worse than her condition now. These hands held magic. Her fingers were sly and very wise. Shyly, she said, "If that's the way you want it, Bea, I'll do my best. But what you're doing to me is gong to make it nearly impossible. You're clever at it. All I'm gong to do in a minute is gasp and moan."

"That's all right, dear. You can come out on the other side and continue where you left off. It's a lovely arrangement. You ought to feel grateful."

"Well, I am. Bea – oh, dear, it's starting already. You're just too clever at this! Bea, I wish you'd stop. I don't mind a bit telling you about Rossland, but the way you're going, I'm not going to be able to. Oh, Bea, please!"

Two girls together. Without the binding cords, they could have been friends or lovers. Quite soon, they were so involved as to make Rossland an abstract thing, totally forgotten. But all things pass and when the final spasms had trailed away, Margo did her duty and told the extraordinary story of an extraordinary academy. Bea's questions were avid with interest and curiosity. Margo answered all of them. At the end, she made the dry suggestion that if Bea was indeed that interested in the place, she could gain entry to it as one of the girls or as a mistress. Surely Henry Ross would do that for an old, trusted employee.

"It wasn't in the cards." Bea mused thoughtfully. "Henry would never dispense with a useful secretary. He would not have given me that much of a hold on him." Bea chuckled in amusement. "Although if he had got me in there, he might have kept me forever. I doubt if he'd want me walking around knowing all about the place." She shrugged in resignation. "But anyway, I've blown that deal completely. And now I won't even get set up in an apartment the way he was doing with you when we picked you up. You must have really got under Henry's skin, darling. The trouble he was taking over you – do you have some special muscle development inside that cute little slit I'm looking at?"

"Don't be silly, Bea. No girl ever knows what a man sees in her. She's just thankful he does. Nobody ever understand what we see in a particular man either. To them, he's a droop, but he isn't to us. The whole thing's screwy. Sometimes, back at Rossland. I used to think that if we weren't punished constantly, the place had a certain virtue. It took a girl away from most of her problems, and so far as sex goes, the place positively reeks of it. They go through the motions of keeping the girls apart, but that's all it is… just motions. We always found each other some way or other. When you're promoted to being a mistress, it's easy."

Margo sighed and tried to look appealing. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to… uh… oh, sorry. I'm not to be untied, am I? You like the way the cords dig into my skin. I'm so glad I give you pleasure." Her tone in the final sentence was a trifle acid.

"I wonder what the hell is keeping Bernie." Bea consulted her watch. "He's been gone a lot longer than there's been any need. The phone booth isn't that far down the road. Maybe he's gone on to the store. But that's foolish; he'll be noticed. The little shack we're in is just a little place we discovered in the woods. Goodness knows who owns it. We don't aim to be here any longer than we have to. It's an absolute dump."

"Well, suppose he gets himself arrested. He sounded tome like a big enough dope to let that happen. Would he split on you or just keep quiet?"

"Honey, if I knew that had happened, I'd run like crazy and take you with me. With those two sets of handcuffs Henry so kindly donated, I could keep you safe under any circumstances. You couldn't do a thing." Bea patted a sad, hopeless cheek. "Don't look so sad. I'm not all that bad, am I?"

"You're simply a darling. I wish we could put the clock back." The two girls talked. At the end of thirty minutes, Bea was becoming obviously disturbed. Her captive could understand why. Bernie was second-class material and perhaps none too bright. Bea must be feeling terribly alone in this shocking adventure. At the end of another half hour, Margo threw caution to the wind and blithely began speaking.

"There has to be something wrong. He can't possibly take this amount of time, either for the phone booth or the store. Look, you can still come out of this as the heroine. You go to the phone and call Henry Ross. Tell him you've discovered me, then deliver me to him. You needn't tell him you happened to have a key to my handcuffs."

"Oh, sure! And no million bucks – no nothing. Just back to the same old desk and the same old job, while Henry sets you up in great splendor and screws you to a frazzle."

"Well, that sounds all right the way you put it, but remember before he does what you say, he'll have used a cane to beat my bottom to a frazzle first. Being the sultan's favorite isn't all that good, you know."

"Well, I'm willing to trade it for what I've got right now. Margo, I'm becoming alarmed. That asshole of a partner should have been back a long time ago. Look, I think the best thing I can do is put those handcuffs on you the way you say and then take you to my place back in town. I can easily get you up into my apartment from the garage in the basement. I'm not sure what I'll do with you then. It's not the ideal place to keep a kidnapped girl, but I'll worry about that when it happens."

Bea's disgust was not shared by her captive. Any way she looked at it, Margo could see only benefit in whatever was taking place with the absent Bernie. As far as she was concerned, if he never showed up again, it would be soon enough. Margo had no expectation of immediate freedom. She was well enough acquainted with bond and handcuffs to realize Bea would have no problem in keeping her helpless.

But the helplessness would surely not last. Something was sure to happen. She sighed happily when the cords were pealed from her ankles and replaced by the familiar bands of steel.

"You see, Bea, it's easy. And you've still got rue absolutely safe."

"Well, you may be right. Now for your hands."

Margo actually did debate momentarily the thought of using her arms and fists in hope of subduing Henry Ross' secretary and returning her to him as a neat, bound package. It was a delightful dream, but she knew that was all it could be. Even if she got the best of Bea and had her pinned down, how could she then either bind herself or escape? A girl with ankles closely joined and handcuffs enforced, cannot go anywhere or do anything effectively. She allowed the temptation to pass and obligingly rolled over after the cords had been taken from her wrists and allowed her hands to once more be cuffed behind her back. It was no longer a hardship. She was accustomed to it.