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I shrug and smile. I’ve been called worse, and what I have in mind for this girl is relatively mild, all things considered. “Moses,” I call over my shoulder.
He must have been right outside. The door opens at once, and the large guard steps into the cell. “Boss?”
“Our guest needs to be naked. See to it, if you would, please.”
“Right, boss.” He only takes half a pace forward before Ruth Lowison capitulates.
“No! Leave me alone. I’ll do it.”
“That’s better,” I croon. “Things will be so much easier for you if you cooperate. And, of course, there’s still time for you to tell me the truth.”
“I have told you the truth,” she protests.
“And, unfortunately, I don’t believe you. So, you see, that means you and I have a problem, Miss Lowison. And the first difficulty as I see it is that you seem to still be fully dressed, despite my instructions.”
“What are you going to do?” she whispers.
“I’m going to teach you what happens to pretty little girls who sneak into places they shouldn’t be.”
“I didn’t know it was private,” she blurts. “I called out.”
“Get naked, Ruth. Then we can continue this conversation.” My tone is icy. She needs to obey and she needs to do it now.
At last, that simple fact penetrates Ruth Lowison’s thinking, too. She fumbles with the buttons on the front of her oversized linen shirt. I wait while she unfastens it and slides the garment from her shoulders, then she begins to unzip her jeans.
She’s taking too long. “Get a move on. I don’t have all day.”
She toes off her training shoes and socks, then shoves the jeans down past her hips. She steps out of them to stand before me in just her underwear.
The bra and pants are a matching set, functional rather than sexy, but still, my cock stirs. It’s a pity I don’t have time to admire her as she probably deserves, and anyway, this is not the time or place.
“Naked,” I remind her, though not so sharply as I might have.
She turns her back and unfastens her bra. The garment hits the stone floor of the cell, to be followed by her knickers.
“Thank you, Moses. I can manage from here.” I wait until he’s left the cell, then I walk around to stand in front of the trembling girl.
“Are you cold?”
She regards me, her arms folded across her chest in a vain attempt to conceal herself from me. I note that her mound is bare, which I rather like. It’s the difference between undressed and truly naked.
“Give me your hands,” I instruct.
She doesn’t move, so I take hold of her right wrist and tug it towards me. She starts to resist, but I raise my eyebrow.
“Really?” I ask.
She abandons her struggle. I’m not sure I care much for the defeat and misery in her eyes, though it promises to make my task more straightforward.
I secure her wrists again, in front of her this time, then I tug her to the centre of the cell. I reach up to grab the conveniently placed ring dangling from the ceiling and pull it down on a length of chain.
Ruth lets out a fearful gasp and struggles as my intention becomes clear. It does her no good, and in moments, her wrists are bound to the ring with yet more cable ties. I hit a switch by the door to raise the ring again, closer to the ceiling, forcing Ruth up onto her toes, her hands high above her head.
Only when I’m happy she’s in position and as ready as she’s going to be, do I unbuckle my belt.
There are any number of implements that are good for this task, but I always believe in keeping things simple. A supple leather belt is always to hand and does the job beautifully. I slip mine from my belt loops and fold the leather strap in my hands, making sure the buckle is wrapped in my fist.
I walk slowly around my prisoner, pausing to cup her chin in my free hand. “Now that your situation is clear, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
