F Campbell - Margo

"Oh yes, please!" Emaline was delighted. "I wish you would, and I won't mind a bit what it is."

"How would you like to spend the rest of the day and all night with someone who's as cheesed off as you are?"

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, not as long as you say so." Emaline looked wistful. "But wouldn't you like me to go bed with you? I wouldn't mind a bit what you did to me. You could tie me up so I couldn't move, just so long as I was beside you. That would be lovely!"

Margo was inclined to agree. Emahne was a delectable young package of potential female, as yet un-aroused. But she had other things on her mind. She simply took the girl by the band led her to where Bea Maxwell provided a predictable greeting. They found the former secretary in the pillory. "You absolutely must do something about this girl, Margo. She doesn't know where to stop. Look at me now! This is ridiculous. This contraption belonged somewhere hundred of years ago… and I'm in it! That little biddy and her damn cane…!"

Margo patted the cheek which could not move under the two halves solidly locked in the oaken yoke.

"Darling, you look delectable," she assured the unhappy prisoner. "I can hardly keep my hands off you."

"You and everybody else!" Bea twisted unhappily within the confinement from which there was no escape. "Every trollop in the place has been feeling me up and pulling on my tits. They made me climax with their rotten little games, and all they did was laugh I was so ashamed. Can you imagine what it's like having a climax when you're locked in a pillory?"

"Well, cheer up, Bea. I've got something for you. You do know Emaline, don't you? When I've locked your ankles, I'll let you out of there."

"Lock my ankles? What the devil do you want to do that for?"

"So you don't give me any trouble, dear. I'm going to fix you up in the most interesting way. There." Margo made her voice honeysweet. "But you're always so upset. It's best not to give you an opportunity to argue or be difficult. Just a minute."

Grudgingly, Bea, released from the pillory's grip, conceded, "I suppose I ought to thank you. Well, all right then – thank you. I hated that thing. It was horrible to stand in that thing and feel such a fool."

Bea stared down at the leg irons fastened on her ankles. "You really do carry things to extremes, Margo. Everybody in Rossland does. These horrible things you've just locked on me are some sort of police device, aren't they? They're intended for criminals."

"Kidnappers are criminals, darling."

Bea blushed, but allowed herself to be led, along with Emaline, back to the little cell. Margo picked up something along the way. Upon arrival, she told Emaline to clasp her hands behind her back and stand still. And while the willing maiden did this, strapped around her middle the belt she had thoughtfully provided. It was a wide, heavy belt of leather, with straps and buckles on the sides. It came with padlocks.

Emaline surveyed this embellishment of her person with keen interest, particularly the straps on either side which were obviously intended for a wrist or ann. She giggled and exclaimed, "You think of the nicest things!"

The mistress thoughtfully made everything nice and snug, then directed Emaline to lay on her back on the cot and open her legs. Her next order was to Bea.

"I want you to kneel between Emaline's knees, Bea. Hurry up." It was obvious Bea was thinking hard, weighing the possibilities of escape against the impediment of leg irons. She shrugged, but did as she was told, saying only, "Margo, please don't be too much of a bitch with me. That kid with the cane has damn near worn me out."

It was now very simple. Margo took an unwilling hand and forearm, and drew it down to insert it within the waiting strap at Emaline's waist. The straps in the belt were vertical and not horizontal. She buckled it tight around the rebellious waist, then did the same service on the opposite side down to accommodate her strapped wrists. A padlock in the belt and a small one on each wrist completed the ensemble.

"There you are, Emaline. She's all yours," Margo said cheerfully.

"You can do what you like with her. If you grab a couple of handfuls of her hair, she has to do whatever you tell her."

"You mean I could actually…"

"Look, Margo, this isn't fair." Bea turned an indignant face to the girl in charge. "Emaline can do anything she wants with me, but I can't do a thing with her."

"That's right. I want you to think of the possibilities."

"I don't have to think – I know. Look here, I don't want to spend the night eating this thing that's staring me in the face. This is absolutely bizarre. You're being terribly unfair. Emaline's got her hands. She can do anything she likes, and look at me!"

"If you edge down and batten it, darling, you'll find it's very comfortable. You can go to sleep on Emaline's thighs."

"Huh! You did say things, didn't you? It looks to me as though I can rest my head on something else. I'm so close to it now, I'm picking up her scent."

Politely, Emaline asked, "Is it okay for me to move now?" She gazed down with interest at the woman who was fastened to her in a manner neither could evade. She giggled.

"Margo dear, do you really think I could or should do that? It would be such fun."

"Sure. I give you permission. And don't forget, you can stand up if you warn. That will leave Bea kneeling between your legs. She can't get up because the straps won't turn. You two should really have a wonderful evening. I envy you both."

"You can have my place then!" Bea said distractedly. "This is absolutely ridiculous, and I'll never forgive you."

"Yes, you will, dear. I bet Emaline tastes gorgeous. By morning, you'll be ever so grateful to. Bye-bye now. I've got things to do."

It was hard not to laugh as Margo looked back through the bars at the two females happily bewildered, the other angrily intent on escape. Bea had returned to her favorite sport of twisting and tugging, and was even using her mouth in a fruitless effort to free her hands. The mistress locked the cell door and went to Mildred Harridance's office.

Mildred was on the phone. Listening, it was easy to guess the person on the other end of the line.

When the headmistress returned the receive to its cradle, she turned to the apprehensive Margo.

"Guess who," she disgustedly added. "That man's impossible." Dispassionately, Margo asked, "Which one of us is he hurting this time?" She sneered. "Or do we both get it in the neck?"

"It's you, honey, and I'm damned if I know what his game is. It's almost bedtime now, and he's coming here in the morning. But he's ordered the most outrageous thing – something I couldn't talk him out of." The headmistress looked appealingly at her favorite pupil.

"Darling, he's told me to strip you naked and hang you up by your wrists, and to leave you there until he comes."

They stared at each other in dismay. The thing spoken of would be a most terrible punishment. An hour of such travail would be enough for any girl. But all night!

Shocked, Margo asked, "But why? Did he give a reason? By morning, I'd be half dead."

"He knows that, and I know that. I'd been arguing with him a long time when you walked in. Margo, I'm simply not going to do it. I won't. It's too damn cruel."

"But, Mildred, your position here – everything you've worked for and everything you are!" Margo was stricken by their dilemma. "You'd best do it. I expect I'll survive."

"No, it's too absurd." Mildred was thinking swiftly. She stated the obvious: "If he isn't coming until morning, the worst I need to do to you is get you up early and have you hanging there at his arrival. Leaving you suspended all night is just not in the cards. I won't do it." They discussed the pros and cons. Mildred's thought was the obvious answer. Even that would impose terrific stress on the girl to be made naked and so ruthlessly punished. Unhappily, Margo asked, "Then what? Is he taking me away with him?"