of me's naked. Everybody will laugh.'
'Like hell they will!' Cicely's affirmation was positive.
'You're forgetting your breasts and your gorgeous pubic hair. . and all the rest of you. To say nothing of all our work fixing your face and doing your hair.'
'I look like a cowgirl after a cyclone.'
'Nonsense! Look, darling, are you going to be awkward?'
'No, I suppose not. I don't want to go in the dungeon. But, oh, Cicely. .!
Oh. . wow!'
'That's my girl! Be nonchalant. They'll adore you.'
'And I won't know what to do with my hands?'
'You may not, darling, but I do. Turn around.'
'No. . Nooooo! Oh, Cicely, please! Not behind my back, I won't be able to cover anything.' Ilona wailed.
'You're not supposed to cover anything, pet. Especially the kind of 'any things'
you've got.'
Ilona passively allowed her arms to be taken from her.
She knew herself once more prey to the conflicting emotions she had come to expect: Horror at what she was going to be compelled to do but a delicious excitation at the touch of her mistress's hands. She look a deep, deep breath as her wrists were captured and linked by the familiar sounds and bite of steel, consoling her by the loss of decision in obedience to the woman who held the key. Over all was a radiant joy between her legs.
'There you are, pet.' Cicely patted a bare and helpless arm. 'Nice and tight. I've used the black one's to match your collar. You look scrumptious.'
'I feel beautiful and I feel ridiculous.' Ilona tugged fretfully at the newly locked handcuffs. 'Cicely, darling, what am I supposed to dooooo!'
'Just circulate, sweetheart. Make all the women green with envy of me and give all the men erections.'
'Cicely, will I? have to??'
'No, dear, you don't have to go in a room and let the men fuck you.' Cicely assured sweetly. 'It's a cute idea, and maybe we'l use it at another party. But that lovely cunt of yours is mine, I'm getting more and more jealous of it.'
'Thank you. But I'm still scared? all those people!'
'Only one plane, pet. Maybe twenty guests. They can taxi right into this big yard.
Anyway, you won't be mauled by a multitude. I still think you'll enjoy yourself.'
'Can I have a drink, please?'
'No, you're going in there cold. There'll be no shortage of men anxious to offer you sips.' The mistress patted a cool bottom. 'But let me warn you, darling: Get tipsy and you'l end up in the dungeon, and with a tender rump to boot. So smarten up, you delectable slave. I think I can hear the plane.'
Ilona's first reaction to the large and splendid room was chagrin. Her entry did not stop the buzz of conversation, it did not even give it pause. She was briefly noticed by couples by the door, but they nodded approvingly and returned to their talk.
Perhaps they thought her an eccentric guest! The idea was exciting. Obedient to instructions, she advanced and mingled, blushing under repeated scrutiny and bright wise smiles.
'May I get you a drink?'
He was tall, dark and handsome for sure, eyes friendly and admiring, not dwelling unduly on any part of her exposed nudity. Ilona found herself unexpectedly grateful for attention. 'I'd love a drink.' She admitted. 'But I? I don't have any hands.'
'No problem.' He patted her shoulder in big brotherly assurance. 'Don't go away.'
He was nice. Ilona lost some of her blush. His regard was intent and amused, and he held the glass to her lips at just the right tilt. His voice was masculine and intimate, reminding her of how little she had seen of such men for so long.
'Guest, or one of Cicely's purchases?' He enquired blandly.
Ilona cocked an eyebrow. 'You know all about her, then? I'm a purchase. I never did find out how much she paid for me.'
'Cicely Woods is an Institution in Texas.' He said thoughtfully. 'These affairs of hers are a privilege. She always has a surprise for us. I'd imagine you're today's little bomb.'
'I think I'm fizzling. No one notices.'
'Don't kid yourself. Right now I can see a Senator, an arab sheik, and a stockbroker assessing your contours. Al the women hate you already, except for Cicely, you're the most beautiful female present.'
'My name's Ilona, and can I have another drink?'
'Bruce.' He winked. 'You've been rationed?'
'I sure have! I could have used a drink, walking in here like this.'
'Change nothing, you're perfect.' He was back with the drink almost instantly.
While she gulped it greedily, he said, suavely: 'D'you mind if I compliment you on that amazingly lush patch of public hair. . and those breasts?'
'Of course I don't mind, Bruce, I'm female. But now I'll be conscious of all three for the next few minutes.' She looked up at him wistfully. 'Am I really that lovely?
Or is it just that I'm naked?'
'You're lovely. Here, finish this drink. I think you're crowd shy.'
'Wouldn't you be if you were like this!' Ilona took the last swallows and asked the question she had to ask:
'Bruce, if I asked you to help me escape, would you report me to Cicely?'
'Of course. We're all under oath to do that. We owe it to her.' He chuckled.
'Some of the propositions I've had here. .!'
'I sort of expected that. Are you going to report me?'
'Yes.'
'She'll whip me.'
'That was a chance you took.'
'I don't really want to escape at all. I can't explain that, so don't ask.'
'It figures. Cicely's the most radiant female in Texas and the most accomplished lesbian extant? Ilona, are those handcuffs bothering you?'
'No, I'm bothering them. I wiggle at them all the time. I expect it's a reflex, or I'm embarrassed? For sure I don't hope to get loose.'
'That collar? It won't come off?'
'No, never. Add a padlock and chain and I become a permanent resident.'
Bruce surveyed her soberly. 'You're for real, aren't you? Or could you walk away?'
'I can't walk away. I did try, but it wasn't any use. That's when Cicely had this iron collar riveted on my neck. It's something else I can't walk away from.'
He nodded, intrigued. 'How else did she punish you?' Ilona squirmed. 'I don't know yet. It's still hanging over my head.'
'You don't seem too worried.' He bestowed a charming grin. 'Think Cicely would sell you to me?'
The blaze of heat in Ilona's sex was as unexpected as his question. Sold! Bought!
People wanted her badly enough to pay money. Thought of being both marketable and desirable caused the handcuffs to mock her wrists and the collar to burn her neck, her pulse quickened. 'I don't think I'm for sale.' She said primly. 'But thanks anyway, I'm flattered.'
'The girl doesn't need money' Bruce mused quietly.
'But I might tempt her with a deal. .!' He tilted the glass to her lips with gentle concern. 'I like you, Ilona. I like you a lot.'
'It's my nakedness you like, Bruce. If I was dressed and without the handcuffs you wouldn't notice me.'
He waved her surmise to the winds. 'I've seen a lot of naked girls, Ilona, that impact's gone. But there's a quality about you. I'd make a guess you amounted to something before you were kidnapped? You were kidnapped, I suppose?'
