gone. The whip trails from her hand as she stands astonished as I myself. It was not she who opened the door at all. It was James Pollard.
'Perfect timing,' he said jauntily. 'A world premiere, eh! Wouldn't have missed it for the world.' He had us startled into a momentary silence. Girl-like, I knew only that I was naked and was being looked at by a man. Ridiculous, of course, but there it was. I longed to cover myself. I didn't want him looking at my nakedness and the marks of Yola's whip. Whip marks are a terribly private and intimate thing. These were Yola's and mine. James was looking at them as though he'd never seen such things before.
'Please don't stop on my account,' he implored with sincerity.
'How did you get in here?'
'Front door, actually. Had a bit of help, of course.'
'What d'you mean, a bit of help?'
'A couple of the chaps. Terribly sorry, they're tying up your staff. Be down in a jiffy.'
'You must be insane!' Yola's voice trembled.
'Frightfully easy, really.' He was sparing only the odd glance for my Mistress. His eyes returned to my scarlet weals as though fascinated. 'Get away with anything with a bit of gall, y'know.'
'But why! What d'you want?'
'Eh?' Reluctantly he gave Yolanda his full attention. 'Oh, you mean what's behind the visit. We're taking little sweetheart here.'
'I won't go!' I exclaimed with absurd vehemence.
'Kidnapping?' Yola's single word was more an acknowledgement rather than a question.
'Of course. Knew you'd understand.'
'But you can't, it's impossible!'
'It's not, y'know. Job's as good as done right now. Just debating whether you shouldn't finish the job you're on first before we pop Euphemia in the sack. Jolly pretty stripes… ' James Pollard was still the beaming small boy. He radiated goodwill. For some intuitive reason I felt more fearful for darling Yola than for myself.
'Get out before I call the police. How many times… ' Yolanda's outraged voice held little conviction.
'Quite so, love. You have to say what's expected. There's still the 'Unhand me, villain!' and the 'We will never yield' to come.'
'You can't possibly get away with this.'
'Sorry, I overlooked that one. Trans-Atlantic, isn't it.'
'Even if you took Phemie she would not obey you. You're wasting your time.'
'We'll just whip her until she agrees to be a good little girl,' James said blandly. 'That's what you do.'
'I won't! I won't!' I was being a very small girl indeed. 'Get out of my way. I'm going to phone the police.'
'Mind leaving me the whip, love? I might as well carry on.'
'You're impossible!' Yola was close to tears. Whatever she did would be wrong, It's funny, but neither she nor I thought of releasing me. Her concern was what to believe of what she had been told. It was too preposterous to be true.
'If I go upstairs will you come too? We can talk.' She asked with less belligerence.
'And leave poor little Euphemia strapped to the whipping post?' he asked reproachfully. 'The dear child has quite a few more strokes to come, hasn't she?'
'She won't mind.'
'But we mustn't rob her of her just desserts.'
'It amuses you to be facetious. You are also being objectionable.'
'Occupational hazard, I suppose. Kidnapping's not really my line. I say, Miss Harding, wouldn't like — to change your mind about selling the dear girl? Save a lot of bother. We could untie the cook and the housemaids.'
'You're joking. You haven't?'
'We have. Only reason the boys haven't shown up here yet is they were considering a nice bit of crumpet with the red haired one.'
'They're raping my staff?'
'Well, I don't suppose it's her first time. Doing her a favour actually. Give her something to ponder on while she's trying to get loose. I say, d'you mind if I use that whip on Euphemia for a few minutes while you sort of adjust. I mean, I may never get her in this convenient a position again.'
'Surely if you kidnap her you can do as you please?'
'Not really. I'm not the principal, y'know. Just a humble instrument. You are silly, really you are, not to take Bolling's hundred thou. I mean, look at it from Euphemia's point of view. You can't say she's exactly having a ball at this moment.'
'You don't understand. This is a woman thing.'
'Do lesbians always lace into each other with a whip?' My Mistress flushed. I tugged helplessly at the straps on my wrists and wished most ardently I was free. James Pollard was a shrewd arguer, there was a mind behind the boyish grin. I had never felt more vulnerable or disposable in my life.
'Could I be unfastened, darling?' I asked tentatively.
'Keep quiet, Phemie. I'll deal with this.' Yola was curt.
'Not a thing to worry about, Euphemia,' James informed me sarcastically. 'If she doesn't finish whipping you, I will.'
'Maybe if you let him whip me a little he'll go away,' I suggest diffidently. 'It seems to be what he wants.'
'You do enjoy being whipped, don't you Phemie?' His voice was shrewd and incisive. I kept silent, but my blush betrayed me. Whenever I have to explain me, I flounder. I turned my face back towards the whipping post. I was getting a crick in my neck. He could look at my whip marks all he wanted… damn him! But there were sounds. We had visitors. Fearfully, I once more looked back over a prisoned shoulder. They were an athletic looking pair. Their grins at sight of me were not as nice as James Pollard's. My fists clenched in their straps. Oh, how I longed to be free!
'Piece of cake, boys,' James said brightly. 'She's already parceled.' It went like a drill. Each of the newcomers took one of Yola's arms. James pushed a wet wad of cloth into my mouth and produced a wide adhesive. 'Lips tight clenched, Phemie, or we hurt your girl friend.' It was beastly. Only Yolanda had done things like this to me. That a man should do them now… ugh! But I did what he said. I even held my head firm while he pressed hard on the tape that made me mute. My poor darling Yola! James Pollard snapped the handcuff on one of my wrists before he unfastened the straps. After that he had no trouble cuffing both my hands behind my back. I tried to fight, but I might as well have beat on a brick wall. He then produced a second pair and locked my elbows together. I was fixed for sure. I'd be no help to Yolanda whatever. For a few moments Yola was a snarling tigress fighting for her life. But she was handled with the same ease as myself. I stood, impotent, and watched my darling strapped as I had been. All three males seemed to regard what they were doing with pure amusement, but poor Yola's wrists were buckled brutally tight. We were both captive.
'We won't gag you, Miss Harding.' James Pollard managed to make the concession sound munificent.
'You'll go to prison, you know that, don't you?' She glared defiantly at him over a prisoned arm. James ignored the threat. 'Someone's bound to find you sooner or later,' he consoled cheerfully.
'If you've made the servants helpless it could be days!' Yola was frightened, I could tell. I longed to speak. I'd have promised anything if only they would leave her free. I cursed the gag that filled and sealed my lips. I had a mental vision of my darling standing there strapped to that damn post all through the night. It would be terrible for her, much worse than for me.
'Shouldn't we undress the lady?' one of the helpers inquired brightly. 'She doesn't look quite right as is.'
'Nudity is implicit in her circumstance,' James agreed pensively. 'What are your sentiments, Miss Harding?'
'You are being beastly,' Yola sniffed angrily.
'De rigueur, wouldn't you say?' Yolanda twisted uselessly in her bonds and said nothing. 'I'm sure the servants deserve a treat when they release you,' James said generously. 'O.K. boys.' It does not take long to
