CHAPTER TWO

The Misfortunes Of Beauty

“Good evening, ladies.” Lucian stepped through the door and smiled. “How lovely you both look. I hope you are pleased with your gowns and shoes.”

I clicked my black, stiletto-heeled shoes together three times. “There’s no place like Harrowcroft,” I repeated at each click. We all laughed at my nervous attempt at humor.

“Just one more brief ceremony,” he said, “then we can all join the rest of the guests downstairs.” He strode over to the attaché case lying on the bed and thrust a brass key into its lock. The lid popped up and I gasped. Two sets of collars and eight cuffs like the maid’s lay inside, hungering to wrap themselves around Laura and me.

“What...” I began.

“Hush, Val,” Laura said. “You don’t want Lucian to gag you, too, do you?”

“But I...”

“Please, Madame Vallerie,” the maid said. “It is the Harrowcroft tradition. Think of it as a costume. All the women in Harrowcroft must wear them, so you will not have to feel ashamed.”

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, nodding my head. I had to close my eyes as Lucian lifted my collar and closed it around my neck. I shivered instinctively when the lock snapped, trapping me in its grip. It was snug, but not uncomfortable. I felt the cuffs being locked around my wrists, then my ankles.

“Open your eyes, Val,” Laura said. I could feel her breath in my ear.

My eyelids cautiously fluttered open. In the mirror’s reflection I saw myself, and Laura standing beside me. Lucian was fastening her collar around her neck. My hand moved unconsciously, reaching up to finger my collar, and caress the steel ring. The number 1247 gleamed on the metal tag dangling from the collar ring. My other hand touched the wrist cuff, testing its merciless grip.

“How long must I wear these?”

“Until you leave,” Lucian answered. “You will be held prisoner in Harrowcroft for three months, and must wear them every minute of that time.”

I turned toward my friend, doubt and the beginning of dread welling up in my eyes. “Laura, I...”

“We agreed to this, Val. We both signed the consent forms. There is no escape from Harrowcroft, impossible for us to stop what the males enjoy doing to our bodies. It’s impossible to escape, and there are brutal punishments for trying.” Laura closed her eyes and whispered, “That’s what makes it paradise, the wonderful feeling of being horrifically defenseless and tormented physically and se