Dr. Richard Cliff was the first to glimpse Ania's inner being. He saw that she
was much like the heroines of his lyric poetry, a girl to be captured.
He allowed her some of the freedoms she sought, giving her permission to run
through the woods without clothing, naked and without shame. And on one afternoon, deep in
the forest, he made her confront one of her most hidden needs by tieing her ever so
securely to an oak tree.
Ania was fully nude for her first time in restraint. She'd been leaning
against the tree's thick trunk, her hands behind it, her young and budding body on
full display to the distinguished and fully clothed Dr. Cliff. She'd been naked in
front of him before, but this was much different. Now he was truly seeing all of her, her
very desires and lusts.
When he went behind the tree and pulled her wrists together, Ania thought nothing
of it, and she still didn't find it unusual when she felt the soft rope of silk being
wound around her wrists, fastening them together.
"How long are you going to keep me here, Dr. Cliff?" was all she asked
when he stood before her. As she spoke, she let her long hair fall forward to partially
cover her breasts.
"We'll see," he said with a smile.
And then he walked away, leaving her alone.
***
Ania had always liked Landford, the small town she'd grown up in, but at the
age of 18, its borders were too small to contain her imagination. During the summer after
high school graduation, her only travel consisted of going to the public library.
She'd wander by the drugstore and the post office, but her thoughts were filled with
poetry.
The young men of her age were fascinated with her unusual beauty. She was a lithe
girl with the curves that would become woman, her breasts forming into proud and rounded
globes. She wore her dark-brown hair very long, halfway to her waist, thick bangs hanging
into her wide eyes. And, even though her mind was often elsewhere, she moved with a sure,
animal-like grace.
"Hi, Ania," one of the boys might say to her when she passed the
drugstore.
"Hello," she would answer, but she'd fail to notice who was speaking
to her.
Although she wasn't aware of it, these young men didn't have what she
needed.
Her tastes in reading changed that summer, the novels she loved so much being
replaced by poetry. The public library contained a surprisingly large section of verse,
and Ania began reading through it with a great hunger. Within these pages, she was
transported to worlds outside Landford.
Here she discovered the lyric poetry of Dr. Richard Cliff, and she began reading it
to the exclusion of everything else. In the pages of his work, she found surreal
landscapes and ominous heroes. The female characters experienced themselves to the
fullest, though they were often enslaved by forces beyond their control. Even when held in
dungeons or scourged with the whip, their sensuality flourished and burned bright.
And she began making her first attempts at writing, scribbling late at night in her
bedroom, making vague plans to go to a large city and live as a poet.
"I see you enjoy Dr. Cliff's work," the librarian said to her on one
afternoon when it was only the two of them among the shelves.
"Yes, very much, Ms. Hart," Ania told her.
"Dr. Cliff lives near us, you know," Ms. Hart said to her. "He lives
out in the country."
As she walked home that day, Ania was more removed from her surroundings than
usual. The thought of Dr. Richard Cliff being nearby seemed impossible to her. But when
she got home, she looked in the phone book, and his number was right there.
She wanted desperately to call the man, but when her fingers began to dial the
number, she hung up quickly. She was afraid. Why would a man like Dr. Cliff want to talk
to a girl like herself?
For days, Ania was restless, the thought of calling Dr. Cliff always on her mind.
"Are you feeling all right, Ania?" her mother asked one morning.
"You look a bit out of sorts."
"Oh, no, I'm fine, Mom," Ania replied, even though she was barely
listening. She'd been up most of the night poring over one of Cliff's longer
pieces, "The Captivity of Pruella."
Ania spent most of that day in her room, napping and dreaming of strange landscapes
and crumbling, stone mansions.
Her parents were going out to dinner with friends that evening, and Ania rose when
she heard her father's car leaving the driveway. She got out of bed, wonderfully
refreshed and in buoyant spirits, full of resolve. She had the sensation of knowing
something wonderful. And, yes, she would call Dr. Cliff. She would call him that very
night.
The girl went through a ritual of preparation before making the call, turning it
into a special occasion. And it was while she was in the bathtub that a peculiar
excitement began to grow within her. A delightful tingling coursed through pubis while she
was still in the water, and this tingling continued, spreading into the rest of her body
as she dried herself. After all, she'd soon be talking to the man who'd created
all of the strange places she'd visited through the printed word.
Ania dressed herself in a long, white, nightshirt, wearing nothing beneath it,
remaining barefoot. And, after painting her lips pink, she put on a choker necklace of
black velvet.
I look like one of Dr. Cliff's heroines, she was thinking as she posed before
her mirror.
Still full of confidence, Ania dialed the number, but she was somehow surprised
when the distinguished voice of Dr. Richard Cliff came through the line.
She realized later that she'd had nothing to be frightened of. The man seemed
pleased by her call, flattered to have a devotee of his work in the vicinity.
"You sound like a perfectly charming young lady, Ania" he said with just
the hint of laugh after they'd been talking for a few minutes.
"Thank you, Dr. Cliff," Ania replied, her voice beginning to shake.
They talked about his work, and, eventually, he began drawing her out of herself,
delving into her hopes and dreams.
"You should come out for a visit and have a look through my library," he
said when he saw that she'd truly been absorbing his writings. "I could show you
a few manuscripts that I didn't want published. Would you like that, Ania?"
The girl couldn't speak for a moment. It was hard for her to believe that he
was actually asking her to visit him. "I'd like that very much, Dr. Cliff,"
she finally managed to say.
He chuckled at her nervous manner. "I'm glad to hear that," he said
to her.
Then it was just a matter of him giving her directions and setting up a time.
"Very well," he said just before they said their good byes.
"I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon."
Shocked, Ania replaced the receiver. She was really going to meet Dr. Richard
Cliff, creator of her dreams, and she couldn't quite absorb this idea.
Shortly before retiring for the night, Ania stood before her tall mirror and stared
at her reflection, wondering if Dr. Cliff would be pleased with her appearance. Very
slowly, she removed her nightshirt and tossed it aside. Nude, save for her choker, she
stood with her hands at her sides, feet together. Unseen forces seemed to take possession
of her. She removed her velvet collar, and, holding her hands out in front of herself, she
twisted the collar around until it held her wrists together. She felt as if she were truly
bound.
How lovely to be one of Dr. Cliff's heroines, she thought, to be naked and
trussed for the pleasure and amusement of others, to submit without choice.
As Ania slept that night, her dreams took her to shrouded landscapes and dark
mansions. Naked and in chains, she was led through stone corridors, her unprotected flesh
warm yet shivering. She was frightened, but her body felt strangely satisfied.
Somewhere in the night, her young flesh went into orgasms that seeped through her
entire being.
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