&n
bsp; ‘Well,’ I said, stalling and blushing. ‘Just…like I said…I’m not really…I mean, I haven’t…I’m pretty new to all this.’
‘We all were, once,’ said Maria encouragingly. ‘Do you like to be restrained?’
‘I might,’ I said after a pause. ‘I don’t want to…you know…’ I gestured down to my clothes, then tugged at the hem of my T-shirt dress. It was important Maria didn’t see the state of my obviously pre-spanked bum.
‘Nobody has to get naked,’ she smiled. ‘In fact, many of my clients keep at least some of their clothes on. Very often, dressing up is all part of it.’
‘I guess I used to fantasise about being tied up,’ I admitted.
‘Used to?’ said Tom with a curl of his lip.
‘OK, I still do.’
‘Well, then – Tom, help me put this pillory away and we’ll see what we can conjure up, shall we?’
My skin was prickling as they wheeled the thing back to the storeroom. What was going to happen to me? Would Maria’s ‘Mrs Nice Domme’ exterior change once she had me at her mercy? Would she and Tom team up to inflict as much pain and humiliation upon me as they dared? And why was this prospect so appealing?
Maria returned from the storeroom carrying nothing more than a remote control unit. Tom, on the other hand, had a length of chain with cuffs attached, and a metal pole, a couple of feet long, again with cuffs at each end.
‘OK,’ I said slowly, eyeing the chains. ‘So…?’
Maria pointed her remote at the ceiling. Two of the tiles lifted upwards, creating a dark cavity from which a hook began to descend, attached to a length of steel twine.
My breath shortened dramatically. This looked like something from a horror movie. Maria let it descend until it was about my height, then she made it stop.
‘Come over here, then, Ellie,’ she invited. ‘And let’s try you for size.’
‘You aren’t going to hang me from that thing, are you?’ I asked, somehow unable to put one foot in front of the other.
‘No, of course not. Although it would take your weight quite easily. Haven’t I told you, nothing is going to happen unless you consent to it?’ Her tone was sharp now, and I was impelled to do as she told me, keen to avoid her wrath.
‘Tom, the wrist cuffs,’ she ordered. ‘Hold out your wrists, Ellie.’
I obeyed, and Tom placed the cuffs, which were soft leather, lined comfortably with velvet, around them. Maria clicked them shut, then tightened them so that there was no space between my skin and the velvet lining. The attached chain, although it was light and silvery, clanked with every movement.
‘Is that comfortable?’ she asked, adjusting the length of the chain until it could be attached to the hook. Now my wrists were just an inch or two above my head, my arms secured but not stretched.
‘Actually, yes,’ I said.
‘Do you like the feeling of having your wrists bound?’
I tried to wiggle them in the cuffs. There was no give, but neither was there any pinch.
‘I do, actually,’ I said. ‘It’s quite…mmm.’
Maria took the remote again and pressed a button. The hook began to rise, pulling my arms up with it.
‘Oh!’
She didn’t stop until my arms were taut above my head and I was almost hauled up on tiptoe. I felt as if I might lose my balance and swing wildly around the place, hanging by my wrists. My T-shirt dress was higher up my thighs now, almost at the curve of my bottom. A hint of black knicker would be visible from the rear.
‘How about that?’
‘Oh, God, that feels really –’ I laughed nervously ‘– unstable!’
‘Ah, well, we can’t have you falling over, can we?’ she said indulgently. ‘Tom – the bar.’