Chapter 3: Sponsorship

The conundrum I faced was two-fold. There was, of course, the matter that I wished to be suitably rewarded for the efforts that the project would undoubtedly require. Although I enjoy my work, it is, nevertheless, the way by which I make my living and it has always been my view that a fair day's work deserves a fair day's pay.

The second problem was the issue of fairness to my other clients. Without exception, they make a substantial investment in my services, staking a significant part of their future wealth on the delivery of a life partner entirely able to support them. To provide my services for Harwell Tusker without some similar arrangement would be a betrayal of those I had helped in the past.

Slowly, the bones of a proposition began to form in my mind. My thoughts turned to Brankston Tusker, Harwell's unfortunate brother. He was, I recalled, an experienced and capable engineer. As such, he was a member of a profession whose practitioners had both the means and the need to take advantage of my services. Perhaps, I thought, rather than an individual commission, I could convince the Institute of Practicing Engineers that a speculative investment on behalf of their members would be of value to the Institute. Perhaps it would even be a fitting memorial for one of their members or some inducement for their younger members? In any event, it was clear that I had a way forward. I would suggest that Harwell and I should call on the President of the Institute.

I was keen to put my thoughts into action at the earliest possible opportunity, but in order to do so I needed time at my writing desk without the danger of distraction. It is not often that I put my own needs ahead of those of my trainees, but I must confess that I did so on this occasion. Arianna should really have spent the evening in coming to appreciate the delights of my mechanical stimulator. However, I really did not have the time or attention needed to make a success of the encounter. Instead, when she presented herself for the evening, I took the opportunity to give myself the quiet that thinking required.

Arianna was dressed in a simple outfit designed to make easy those acts of punishment and penetration that were currently such a feature of her existence. A loose, off-the-shoulder blouse recalled the dress of those peasants of central Europe and provided simple access to her breasts should I require it. Her black, embroidered, peasant skirt, knee-length, full, circular and gathered tightly at the waist could be easily pulled up to give access to her sexual parts. "Good evening, Sir," she said, anticipating some task or other.

"Please stand still," I instructed. I had some lengths of rope to hand and, without comment, set to work using them to secure both her wrists and elbows. Although Arianna has come to accept being bound, she still has difficulty with being silenced. Accordingly, and given my need for a quiet evening, I applied one of my larger ball gags. Her whimperings as the ball was forced between her jaws, spreading her mouth wide, would have distressed me had I not known it was for her betterment.

I must confess that I prefer the use of the ball gag as a general rule. There are some silencers that achieve better quieting, some that impose a greater humiliation on the subject, and, indeed, some that present a more visually appealing effect but the ball gag to me provides the best all-round solution to the problem. A heavy rubber ball – I favour the Malaysian rubbers which are of greater density – threaded upon a strap or head harness imposes on its wearer the discomfort of distended jaws, the distortion of speech accomplished by compressing the tongue and filling the mouth, and the humiliation of contending with the incontrollable stream of drool that results from having the mouth held open in this way; a useful tool indeed!

With Arianna secured and silenced, I made use of the small cupboard beneath my staircase, where cleaning materials and other items are kept, as a convenient space in which to stow away my objecting captive. With Arianna pushed inside the small space, I bound her ankles to prevent her moving. She looked up at me, irritated at being abandoned. I smiled at her and shut the door to the cupboard. Her gagged objections, further muffled by the heavy wooden door, subsided as I walked back to my room to start on my plan.