F Campbell - Margo

"No."

The thought of being set free had never entered Margo's mind. There was between the two woman a relationship beyond dissolving. She hoped Henry Ross and Norma Boulter would face into a bad dream. In the meantime, though, there was a path to treat, and Mildred would lead the way. When the fingers of the headmistress sought her captives clothing and began to take it from her, it was no more than to be expected. When their lovemaking was finished, Margo was brought back into the real world by the headmistress's whisper.

"I'll keep you chained and tied and whip you regularly, darling. Do you want that?"

"Oh yes!"

"One or both of those we left back in the cell will try to get you back. They'll try to get me too. Tomorrow, we'll see how honest Norma Boulter is, but Henry Ross will be unrelenting, I know."

To Margo, it was no more than a continuation of her life at Rossland and before. She was owned, this time by a beautiful woman. But others would seek to own her. This was the lot of slave girls: they belonged to the conqueror.

"Mildred, don't you want to take me to bed again?"

The invasion of Mildred's small cottage took place in the middle of the night. Its initial stages were carried out in sufficient stealth and silence to enable the invader to reach the feminine bedroom in which his victims slept. Margo's hands were still cuffed behind her back, so she was helpless to resist. The master had only moments before female strength proved ineffective against the male. The eyes of the former headmistress sought those of her former pupil in misery and dismay as the handcuffs clicked their metallic derision thrusting the now helpless women from him, Henry Ross triumphantly revived one more cliche.

"And now, my proud beauties…!"

To Margo, it was no more than a continuation of her drift upon a inevitable tide. Two women and a man, each of them dominantly as strong, had chosen to possess her. If it was not one, it would be another. Gazing upon Henry Ross, now in his triumph, she felt the old feminine stirrings for the male hand the male command. Margo's sex flared in response to captivity by the male. It was the age-old female response to the knowledge of what now lay ahead. This knowledge was emphasized by Henry Ross' barked order.

"Margo, stand and face me! Tell me what you expect on return to school."

"I expect to be caned and whipped."

"A sensible answer and a sensible girl. You have learned your place."

Henry Ross was in many ways a pompous and pedantic figure but he was handsome and tremendously masculine. He dominated the room utterly. There was never a thought in the mind of his naked prisoners of either escape or mercy. He had them and he would use them as he wished. He must have come to terms with Norma Boulter, or he would not be here. He would still be safely locked within a cell. But Norma Boulter no longer mattered. What did matter was the present predicament.

With the sudden snap of a pistol shot, he fired at Margo, "Do you expect to marry me?"

"Yes."

It was a shot in the dark which would probably earn her additional punishment, but Margo no longer cared. She was flotsam in a tide she could not stem. Her blunt affirmative had not come from her heart, but from a wish to test this male creator to the full.

Ross raise an amused eyebrow.

"Mrs. Henry Ross, eh? I'm not sure you deserve it, but perhaps after a few whippings."

The master turned his attention to Mildred. He was still the Victorian villain and enjoying every moment.

"And you, my dear headmistress, what do you expect?"

"You'll whip me."

"Come, come, dear. Is that all?"

Mildred flushed and twisted her joined hands. She knew she was being baited and was uncertain of her fate. But she faced it bravely and looked her tormentor in the eye. "I don't suppose that will be all, Henry. I expect you'll whip me more than once. I expect you'll think up a few of your other specialties on my behalf." She visibly sneered. "But when you've humbled me and satisfied your male ego, you'll return me to my position as headmistress." She stood tautly erect in her magnificent nudity and stared in arrogance at the male who could bring her to her knees. "That is my assessment… sir!"

Henry Ross nodded, unperturbed.

"You are quite magnificent, my dear. You are right. I will punish you terribly, and I will bring you to your knees, but I will also reinstate you in your former position. Where else could I find one such as you?"

"Thank you, Henry. May I ask what you have done with Miss Boulter?"

"Of course, you may ask, my dear. The condemned may ask for any privilege. I ran true to form with dear Norma. I played the village of the piece. I made her promises I did not intend to keep and thus persuaded her to unlock the door of the cell. She now awaits my pleasure behind the bars. She is appropriately naked. I have her hands well cuffed behind her back and her ankles similarly joined. I have suggested that she think soberly of her condition while I am gone. I have considered marrying her – this you know. And I am sure she is giving this matter a good deal of thoughts, perhaps with hope. I intend to recreate a situation we have already once gone through. I will fasten all three in equal nakedness and helplessness, then proceed to thrash you separately so you may enjoy."

Margo did a mental shrug. What did anything matter? She knew she was inescapably a prisoner. Her eyes sought those of her former mistress and heard her stark admission.

"I'm sorry, Margo darling. I did try. I wanted you – I still do. I feel I let you down."

Amused, the master clasped two handfuls of female hair, thrusting two female heads together. "There, you may kiss. I suggest you do. It may be your last chance."

They kissed. It was a passionate kiss despite their disabilities under which it was performed. It was the kiss of love, condemned to chains and slavery. Before it was over, Henry Ross thrust them roughly asunder and produced a length of rope. Face to face with Margo, he tied a loop of it around her neck, then kissed her with surprising gentleness. The other end of the tether was tied tightly around the throat of Mildred.

He surveyed the naked helplessness with immense satisfaction. His voice held the promise of pain and imprisonment. As he picked up Mildred's discarded riding crop, he spoke.

"Perhaps we should not go to the car. You may enjoy togetherness in the back seat before joining Norma Boulter in the cell."

The naked duo, helpless and close to tears, walked before their master, their condition emphasized by occasional short impacts of the crop.

Each female knew herself a conqueror's prize. Margo's heart smoldered scorchingly within her sex as she considered a possible fate and how she would feel.

Mrs. Henry Ross…!