Sometime later, Helena was somewhat more subdued, exhausted from the tumult of feelings that had concentrated in her, but only half aware that she was being helped to her feet, helped up the stairs, still filled with wants and needs that hadn’t quite been fulfilled. She realized without protest that she was being taken out the back door into the cold of the October day, but barely noticed it. She felt someone picking her up, and setting her down in warmth that enveloped her, comforted her, helped her pull her consciousness back together. Only slowly did she become fully aware that she was in Mr. McCluskey’s hot tub, with both him and Acacia next to her on either side, holding on to her, comforting her, extending their love to her, and it felt wonderful, perhaps the best thing that she’d ever felt, except for those powerful moments an eternity before, as she’d felt the explosions within her that had resulted from the ministrations of the whip and the Corvette. She was becoming more calm now, the world was starting to make sense again, but somehow, she realized that it was a different world than she’d been in when she’d come to Mr. McCluskey’s house that morning. It did not take much concentration to consider her backside and count the remnants of the five strokes of the whip, and the two somewhat milder ones of the cane, still stinging warm and lovingly across the soft flesh of her aching backside.

For a long time, about all she could do was mumble her thanks, her gratefulness as sense came back about her. Finally, as things started to come back into perspective, she pulled herself together and said, “Acacia, uh, Miss Rose, I beg your forgiveness.”

“Whatever for, Miss Curtis?” Acacia said warmly, her arm around her, holding her tight.

“For doubting you,” Helena smiled. “I never understood … I still don’t understand … but you were right.”

“I almost hate to say this,” Acacia grinned. “But it’s even better when it is your master wielding the whip. It’s very much better when he can relieve you, rather than a piece of plastic. To feel the love he can lash into your body through the whip, and the consolation of his arms and his body.”

“Ohhhh,” Helena moaned, then continued dejectedly. “I think I can understand that, at least feel the edge of it … My God, Miss Rose, Mr. McCluskey, what am I going to do now?”

“I do not know, Miss Curtis,” Mr. McCluskey said sadly from her other side, as she relaxed into the warmth of the water and the comforting arms of the man that had whipped her. “I will just say this much. I will not whip you again, now or ever. That was … very difficult for me. I dearly wished to console you much better than you were being consoled, but for My Lady’s sake, I knew I dared not.”

“Oh … Oh, damn,” she said. She took three or four deep, nearly moaning breaths before she continued. “I understand, sir,” she said finally. “I would not dare come between you. But … damn.”

“Miss Curtis,” he said, squeezing the bare skin of her shoulder. “I believe I remember you saying the other night that you needed this experience to help you in your decision about seeking a master?”

“Sir, I don’t think there’s any question, now. How am I to go about finding one?”

“Good question, Miss Curtis,” he smiled.

“The difficult part,” Acacia said, “is that you must find a true master whom you can be a true sub to, a man who will whip you out of respect for your desires, out of his love for you. Miss Curtis, I have had all the experience I need of men who whipped me because they enjoyed doing it, caring nothing for me, throwing me away after they burned out their desires. I hope that you can avoid that.”

“Very true, My Lady,” Mr. McCluskey agreed. “You know and I know of all too many men who would fit that description, and I fear greatly if Miss Curtis were to fall into their hands. You will recall that is why she asked us for our opinions before she accepted a master.”

“I remember that, My Lord,” she replied, “though I cannot help but think that the need is greater than it was before. I agree that she should avoid the local D/s community. Some of those people send shivers up my spine.”

“You’re right, there are some very serious problems there, My Lady,” he said. “Serious enough to have called on my professional skills on two occasions. Fortunately, those individuals have been removed from the streets, but there are others still out there.”

“But sir,” Helena frowned, “what am I going to do?”

“Miss Curtis, it just comes down to the fact that somehow, you’re going to have to come up with a master. I suspect that it will be far easier to find a good man with no experience in the field and educate him to respect your wishes and desires, than it would be to find someone already of those inclinations.”

“Sir, you mean that I must create a master, rather than just find one?”

“Indeed, Miss Curtis, that is exactly what I mean,” he smiled. “Fear not! I think My Lady and I will do our best to assist you in finding such a man, should you accept our efforts. And, of course, we would be more than willing to assist you in educating him.” He sighed and shook his head. “I fear we have made a serious mistake in assisting you in the discovery of this side of you. It is now our duty to assist you in putting the rest of it together.”

“Sir, I truly appreciate your efforts,” Helena said. “I had no idea of the demon that was within me a few months ago. If it is to come out, then taking advantage of your guidance seems to me to be the best possible way to do it.”

He nodded his head, and stared into the bubbling water for a second before he replied slowly, “Miss Curtis, you are aware that I rarely give you direct orders, are you not?”

“Of course, sir,” she said. “You often make gently worded requests that I understand to be orders, but direct orders are most rare.”

“Good,” he smiled. “With that thought in mind, Miss Curtis, I am going to give you a couple of direct orders. We have agreed that you are to accept no man as a master without our approval. I now order you to neither ask nor allow a man to approach you with a whip unless we have agreed that he is worthy to be your master, and until you are satisfied in your own mind that he is capable of handling a whip competently. Any fool can buy a tool, Miss Curtis. The tools are not necessarily dangerous, but fools usually are. Canes and shorter instruments will hurt, but are much less likely to do serious and lasting damage. But whips … well, we dare not let you risk a fool with a whip. Do you understand my order Miss Curtis, and will you comply?”

“Yes, sir. Gladly, sir. What is your other order?”

“Miss Curtis, you must begin your search. Have you done any dating lately?”

“Dating?” she frowned. “Sir, I haven’t had time for a date since you placed your collar on me. In fact, the last date I had was the night Andy and I saw you and Miss Rose at the Mykonos.”

“Then we have kept you much too busy,” he smiled. “The time has come to deal with that, even at the expense of curtailing our pleasant sessions, if need be. Miss Curtis, my order to you is that you begin dating, at least once a week.”

“But sir,” she protested. “I don’t know how I’d even get a date.”

“Come, Miss Curtis,” he smiled. “You are an attractive and passionate young woman. Surely it cannot be that big a problem. Should you need prospects, I’m sure that My Lady will be glad to be of assistance. I will also keep my eyes open for potential prospects. But, Miss Curtis, if all else fails, I know a man who would be anxious to date you.”

“You do, sir?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “He is called Goober, and he washes the ambulances down at the station and does other odd jobs. He is a fastidious man, to the point of taking a bath at least once a month whether he needs it or not. He has some interesting ideas about the treatment of women, to the point where I would not send a daughter of mine, nor you, on a date with him without wearing a chastity belt.”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Helena grinned. “I will date, and I’m quite sure I can do better than that.”

“Rise, my ladies.”

Since the company Halloween party was at the Country Club, Mr. McCluskey had driven down to Helena and Acacia’s apartment for the affair, bringing the collars, leashes, and handcuffs with him, and for the first time, the collaring ceremony that had become ritual for them occurred in their apartment. Even before the addition of the extra regalia, Helena thought she looked magnificent, in a long but low-cut blue evening gown that fitted snugly around the waist. Very snugly, in fact; under the dark blue gown was a black corset that took a good three inches off her waistline, adding much to her shape and adding it spectacularly, forcing her into an erect posture, at the cost of a rigid back and near-inability to breathe. She was going to be wearing the corset for hours tonight, very strictly, and it wasn’t a first time thing – she had, in fact, worn it to work several days earlier in the week, although not laced quite as tightly, so now the extra severity was only minimally more uncomfortable. The matching high-heeled pumps she was wearing were new, too. She usually wore heels at work, so getting used to the higher ones had come with no difficulty. Like Acacia’s, her hair was done up high on her head – at Acacia’s suggestion, she’d been letting it grow, and a visit to the beauty shop up the street earlier that evening had resulted in a magnificent hairdo. Both women were heavily made-up; they’d decided to go with a spectacular skin paint around the eyes that reached out like wavy teardrops around the side of their heads. A mask would have ruined the effect, but it made them look so exotic that they’d have been hard to recognize, anyway.

Wade was dressed in a white tuxedo that was nearly as spectacular, with an ascot, a jeweled stickpin, and jeweled watch chain to a pocket watch. He’d foregone the half-faced Phantom of the Opera mask for the collaring ritual and the trip down the stairs, although he did lead the two by their leashes. At the bottom of the stairs he put on the mask and led the two of them outside.

Even with all the months of being his student, even with all the thinking and planning that had gone into this night, it still felt very daring to Helena to be led outside wearing handcuffs and a collar and leash. Trying to act very demure and stuffy herself, she stole a glance at Acacia, who had a broad grin on her face. She turned back, and had to stifle a gasp – rather than Mr. McCluskey’s sport-ute that she’d been expecting, a long black limo waited by the curb! She smiled in awe – although it had taken a lot of work to talk him into this, once he made his mind up, he went all-out. At his most pompous, he stood politely by the door of the limo across from the liveried driver as the two ladies carefully got into the cavernous interior.

The limo turned their arrival at the country club into an event. A number of couples were just heading into the building when it pulled up, and several stopped, expecting, perhaps, the company president to get out – but there were some serious jaws dropped when the Phantom of the Opera exited the car as the chauffeur held and stood respectfully by the door as two elegant ladies then emerged, each handing him their leash as they stood up. “Thank you, sir,” he said very stuffily to the chauffeur. “Your services are appreciated. Ladies, let us proceed to the ball.” As several of the couples stood by, agape at the sight, Acacia and Helena trailed half a step behind him on either side, leashes hanging slack, managing to look elegantly demure, eyes cast downward, oblivious to the eyes of those who looked on.

One of the things they had all agreed on was that they were going to stay in character, and rigidly so, all evening. It really wasn’t all that difficult, since it was essentially what they were used to doing together, anyway.

There was a short receiving line inside the door, the company president, and some of the company officers and their wives, welcoming guests to the party. “Good evening, sir,” the president said to Mr. McCluskey, and smirked. “I see you like to keep your ladies under control.”

“Of course,” Mr. McCluskey said unctuously. “A gentleman, sir, should always treat a lady in the manner in which she wishes to be treated.” He delivered it so deadpan, so stuffily, that he drew a round of laughs, which, of course was the intent, although the two ladies in question merely cracked a demure smile, although each made a mental note to break up laughing when they were out of character …

A dance band was playing inside, ballroom dancing music, old stuff but good stuff. They were shown to a table for three. Holding on to the leashes, Mr. McCluskey held the chairs for his ladies, who sat down, rigidly, on the fronts of the chair seats, not letting the backs touch their own, eyes cast demurely downward as they were supposed to. A waitress came over, asked for drink orders. “My dear,” he told her stuffily. “I believe the ladies would be pleasured if you would bring them each a glass of lemonade. As for myself, I would appreciate a cup of tea.”

“OK, a tea and two lemonades. That what you want, miss?” she asked Helena. Quite conspicuously, Helena turned her eyes to him. He nodded slightly, and she returned her attention the waitress. “Yes, ma’am,” she said quietly. Since the waitress obviously didn’t get the message, she asked the same question of Acacia, who gave the same questioning look to Mr. McCluskey, and got the same nod before she also replied in the affirmative.

“You ladies seem most elegant tonight,” Mr. Young, her boss, said with a broad smile. He was dressed in a cowboy outfit, some old-time TV character, Helena thought, but she’d know that pot belly anywhere, and he’d been watching the whole scene with the waitress. This was something that drew a programmed response. She carefully rose to her feet, gave a deep curtsy, and said, “Good evening, Mr. Young. Allow me to present my protector, Mr. McCluskey, and his lady, Acacia.” That said, she returned to her seat, casting her eyes downward again.

“And who, may I ask, are you, sir?” Mr. McCluskey said stiffly.

“I’m George Young, Helena’s supervisor,” Mr. Young replied, obviously confused. “Your ladies look very well tonight, sir.”

“I expected no less,” Mr. McCluskey rumbled. “As I expect them to be on their best behavior.”

“They seem very well behaved to me,” Young smiled, starting to get what he thought was the gag. “Is there really the need for the leashes and the chains?”

“Absolutely, my dear sir,” Mr. McCluskey replied bombastically. “As Miss Curtis explained, I am acting as her protector in lieu of her father in his absence. He is a Marine, sir, and he would be most angry with me were she to run wild and take up with cads or dockwallopers such as might be found in these surroundings. And yet, sir, I tell you these are wild women, sir. Wild, indeed! Should they set their fancy on some unsuspecting lad, I dare say whips would not drive them off.”

Once again, Helena suppressed a giggle, another one to be saved for later. Mr. McCluskey was in fine form tonight! Mr. Young was giggling, a huge smile on his face. He could get stuffy at times, but Mr. McCluskey was outstuffying him by at least a factor of twenty to one. “Fine act you have there, sir,” he smiled at Mr. McCluskey.

“Act, sir?” Mr. McCluskey replied ominously. “Sir, this is no act. These are really only protective measures. Should I allow these two young ladies to run free in these surroundings, their reputations could be ruined. Ruined, sir! I take my responsibilities as protector seriously indeed, sir, both to Miss Curtis, and to my lady love, Miss Rose. I assure you, sir, they seem on good behavior tonight, but I fear it is only because I have taken reasonable precautions. One never knows what lies in the heart of a woman, sir.”

“You got that right,” Mr. Young smiled, knowing he was defeated and backing down. “Have a good time, Helena, Acacia.”

That set the pace. To say that they were the center of attention for the next few minutes would be an understatement. It was hard for Helena to keep a straight face, because try though several people might, they never broke through Mr. McCluskey’s stuffiness, outrageous though some of his comments seemed. Still, it was really hard to maintain that demure neutrality when Mr. McCluskey offhand but pompously dropped the line – to the company president, no less – “Women, like horses, sir, perform much the same to the crack of the whip. Whip! I say, sir.” It had been two weeks, and the welts were long gone, but in her mind Helena could still feel the heart stopping crack of the whip on her fanny …

The only time all evening long that Helena almost lost it came a few minutes later, when she heard an almost-familiar voice say quietly, “Hi, Helena! Having a good time?” She glanced up, to discover Andy checking her out, and the blood drained from her face and a dozen thoughts raced through her mind. Thank God for the heavy makeup, maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush! What the hell was he doing here? He worked across town! He’d been with her that time at the Mykonos. He had to remember Mr. McCluskey and Miss Rose from that evening … nevertheless, she went through the drill of rising and curtsying, then saying demurely, “Good evening, Mr… . Brown, I believe, isn’t it? Allow me to present my protector, Mr. McCluskey, and his lady, Acacia.” That said, she returned to her seat, casting her eyes downward again.

Of course, Andy had an eyeful from that – and of the cleavage presented by Helena’s gown – but a solid young man Mr. Brown was. Solid, sir! Willing to play along, he asked, “Madame, may I have the honor of the next dance?”

“Sir,” she said. “Honor demands that you direct that question to my protector.”

Nonplussed, Andy turned to Mr. McCluskey. “Sir, may I have this dance with Helena?”

“Miss Curtis,” Mr. McCluskey rumbled. “Do you know this young man?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, dropping to high kneel in front of Mr. McCluskey, and holding out her handcuffed hands to him.

“Do you have any intent of molesting him while you are out of my charge?”

“None whatsoever, sir,” she smiled.

“Well, then,” he said huffily. “I have no objection. You are on notice, Miss Curtis, to maintain your best behavior.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as Mr. McCluskey reached out, key in hand, to unlock the handcuffs. They’d anticipated this particular problem, and the handcuffs were the trick ones, like she’d worn for a few minutes those long months before, and she’d done a lot of wearing of real, locking handcuffs since then, but fiddling with the key seemed a little too real. The trick handcuffs, with the trick exposed, would made this whole thing look like an act – which was the intent. Mr. McCluskey made a show of fumbling with the key a bit, then slipped the slide that opened the handcuffs. He handed the leash to Andy, and grumped officiously, “There you go, sir. Return her safely to me when the dance is completed.”

Andy obviously felt just a little stupid holding onto the leash as he walked arm and arm with her out onto the dance floor. “God, what an act the three of you are putting on!”

Helena normally wouldn’t have broken character, but figured that this might just be the time it would be worth it. “Pretty good, isn’t it?” she giggled in a low voice. “I’ve been ready to just die from laughing all evening, but Wade said he’d only bring us if we could stay in character.”

“Character, my God,” Andy shook his head. “Is he like that all the time?”

“No, he’s a dear, but he does like to act quite formal at times. He’s really putting on a show, isn’t he?”

“You’ve got the whole place talking about you, that’s for sure,” he said as the music struck up. He took her in his arm, and held onto her leash with his outer hand, and they began to dance. Much to her surprise, he really could do ballroom dancing, not just a box step; this was a fast foxtrot. “You know,” he continued, “He sort of reminds me of that guy we saw up at that Greek restaurant that time.”

Here goes, Helena. Give it your best shot. “Yeah, he sorta does, doesn’t he?” she smiled and whispered in his ear as she held on to him tightly. “Andy, where do you think I came up with the idea?”

“This was your idea?”

“Well, in the beginning,” she said. “We all sort of added on to it as we went along. Andy, the collar snaps off, and the handcuffs are fakes. They’re supposed to look good, that’s all.”

“It sure as hell is a good job,” he smiled. “I kind of got sucked into coming to this party by my boss. He plays golf with your company president, and since there’s usually more girls here than guys, I kind of got leaned on to come over and fill in. But you made it worth it. Thanks, Helena.”

Whew, Helena thought. Made it. Never once had she failed to tell the truth, but she’d done a good enough job of telling the selective truth that he bought it as an act. She relaxed a little, as she reflected again that he was a pretty good dancer. Most guys don’t go to that kind of effort, she thought. And he really is a pretty nice guy. If it hadn’t been for all that baseball and NASCAR crap before – but they’d had trouble finding things to talk about. In any case, he was better than the losers she’d dated the last couple weeks; one had only wanted to go to an arcade and play video games. Watching a good stock car race on TV could beat that any day … worth thinking about. “Andy, I can’t break character tonight,” she said. “But why don’t you call me some time? I’m often busy, but I could find an evening.”

“I’d like that,” he said. “Still the same, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “Or, if you want to call me at work, I’m at 2732, although I can’t talk for long there.”

“I’ll do that,” he smiled as the music came to an end.

“Fine, but I’ve got to get back in character,” she said softly, then spoke up, so couples around could hear. “Sir, I must say that I absolutely enjoyed the pleasure of this dance with you. Now, I fear you must return me to my protector.” She dropped her voice and added, “You might throw in a little bow or something, just to pile it on, and act real formal.”

“Sure,” he whispered back. “Anything to keep up the gag.”

Andy was nothing if not a good sport. He returned Helena’s leash to her protector with a deep bow, and said, “Thank you, kind sir, for allowing me the pleasure of the dance with Miss Curtis.”

“You are quite welcome, sir,” Mr. McCluskey said. “I trust she did not attempt to molest you in any way? If so, I shall have to punish her.”

“Her conduct was entirely proper, sir,” Andy grinned. “And it was indeed a pleasure.”

That set it off. For much of the rest of the evening, both Helena and Acacia did a lot of dancing, while Mr. McCluskey, watched imperiously – though he was a man of many talents, dancing was not among them – and gruffed and bluffed at any man who might dare ask his permission – including the company president, who was shaking with laughter as he danced about the floor with Helena, and later, Acacia. She even got a dance with Mr. Young, who was not a good dancer but who was a good sport, and she expected some jokes around the office on Monday. And, twice more, Helena even danced with Andy.

Eventually the evening grew late; carrying the trophy for “Most Convincing,” Mr. McCluskey took the ladies to the coat check for their wraps, and led them outside on their leashes – but this time over to his sport-ute; it turned out he’d only rented the limo for an hour, and had the limo driver help him drop off the car. They were loaded with smiles, but, remaining as stern as he had been all evening, he demanded silence until they returned to the apartment. It was a safety measure, they discovered later, for as soon as they got inside they just about fell on the floor in sheer laughter. A giggle would turn to a chuckle, and then to an outright table-slapper that would go on and on, until their sides ached. Then someone would mention some small incident, and off they’d go again. The plan originally had been to drive up to Mr. McCluskey’s to spend the night, and the next day in session, but they never got that far.

Some hours later, after the women had undergone considerable difficulty in getting out of their heavy makeup and gowns and corsets and into more comfortable clothes while laughing hysterically, they were still laughing as they went to bed, Mr. McCluskey with Acacia, of course, while Helena slept alone, hearing giggles coming from the next room, and, eventually, snoring. Only then did the night turn into a downer; she envied Acacia, having her lover’s arms to sleep in, while she faced a horribly lonely empty bed. And, it wasn’t like she could call up Andy, not this late, and not knowing him that well. Oh, well, there was always the Corvette, and the memory of Andy’s face as he smirked at the sights he’d seen.

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