Unknown

Return to Avondale

Chapter One

"Pamela! Packed yet? Girl from Avondale is here!" shouted Mrs. McNee to her daughter upstairs.

It was raining in Hammersmith and the van had pulled up outside the flat shortly after two.

"Be there in a jiff, mom!" came the voice from Pamela's bedroom.

The clicking heels of Pamela's shoes sounded on the stairs as she came bouncing down with her suitcase. Mrs. McNee was in the vestibule talking to the woman with long blonde hair, rather nervously of course, for there really wasn't much to say. The woman was perhaps twenty-three and quite attractive, though her obviously slim figure was well concealed in a dripping raincoat. Mrs.McNee handed Pamela her slicker without comment. Everything had already been said, many times over, for the last three weeks. Shoplifting had been a lark at first for Pamela, then rather exciting. Until she was nicked.

It had taken much influence with the magistrate from one of Mrs. McNee's solicitor acquaintances, and much money, to arrange for Pamela's stay at Avondale. After all, she was seventeen and old enough to spend three years in Women's Prison at Eeling as her sentence called for. It had taken some doing, some pleading and some convincing, but finally it was arranged to admit Pamela to Avon- dale, Certainly six months there would he better than three years in jail, without question. Besides, at Avondale a girl could continue her studies.

Avondale was well known to most, sophisticated Londoners, and, by reputation, to many girls as well. The quaint, ivy-covered school had nestled in the rolling hills of Avonshire since 1845 and served, until after World War Two, as one of the many training schools for young ladies, so fashion- able in those delightful times when the whip and cane were deemed proper and necessary for the proper maturity and breeding of every girl who wished to really be anything at all. Such procedures faded with time, social acceptance, and law of course. One or two, such as Avondale, had been converted by the government into correction schools for those troublesome young ladies not yet of legal age and for whom prison might cause more harm than good. Even so, it took influence and money, for the schools were small, Avondale itself admitting only ten at one time, It was not asked what was done at Avondale.

Some knew, but winked at it. After all. it wouldn't make much difference to a girl who was sent there, for six months was certainly better than being locked up for several years. It was rumored that things really hadn't changed much at Avondale since it,s inception, but after all, if girls went there voluntarily for over a century, modern girls should be able and willing to follow suit even if involuntarily attending. Goodness knows, girls hadn't changed much over the years!

"Take off your blouse, honey," said the girl from the school. "Have to put the punishment bra on you."

Pamela hesitated only briefly. After all, she might as well begin to get used to anything for the next six months. She handed her blouse to her mother. Pamela's breasts were lovely. There was no question about that at all.

Much to Mrs.. McNee's consternation, the blonde ran her hands briefly over Pamela's bare breasts.

Not aggressively, but just enough for Pamela to get the idea. Pamela had never been touched by a girl, but, it wasn't unpleasant at that moment. It gave her something to think about.

The bra, which the girl produced from her hand- bag, was just an ordinary girl's bra. Except of course for the inside which had been completely studded with thumb tacks, She fitted it over Pamela's shoulders and snapped the hooks in back.

Pamela drew in her breath. The tacks hurt!

"Do you really have to do that?" exclaimed Mrs.. McNee in utter shock.

"Oh, mother," said Pamela, "don't make a fuss.After all, it's only for six months y'know. Doesn't hurt too bad."

Pamela put on her blouse, and the girl from Avondale took cords from her purse. Pamela had never been tied before of course, but she had seen enough movies and TV to know enough to cross her hands behind her and turn around to the girl.

The first, feel of rope on her wrists was interesting.

Not uncomfortable or unpleasant, but not exciting either. Just… interesting. Yet, there was a slight quickening of her breathing when she smelled the lilac perfume of her binder. Well now, thought

Pamela, what's this reaction all about? Probably the excitement of the day.

Pamela's raincoat was draped over her shoulders to hide her ropes, and there was a last goodbye, and a brief kiss to her mother. The door closed behind them as they walked quickly through the rain.

The van was blue, but unlettered, and it stood in the gushing torrent of the gutter. The rear doors were opened by the girl and they climbed inside together, stepping high up to the floor deck, The girl's raincoat was short, and so was her skirt obviously, for Pamela saw a flash of her white panties.

The girl removed Pamela's raincoat and untied her wrists. The respite was only brief however, for she raised Pamela's right wrist towards the van ceiling and encased it in a dangling silver handcuff. The left wrist was likewise cuffed before the girl touched a panel switch. The chains holding the cuffs rose with a.smooth whispy sound and Pamela felt her arms pulled upwards until her heels left her shoes, all of her weight now on her toes. Pamela said nothing, but felt the discomfort of her bond- age keenly. Better get off to a good start, she realized.

"Feel okay, baby?" asked the girl.

"Sure," said Pamela, not missing the girl's use of the word "baby." She hadn't been called that by a girl before, and found it rather nice. The girl was pretty. She had thought about girls once or twice.

"Sure, mistress!" snapped the girl. "That calls for a minor penalty only, since it was your first time."

"Yes, mistress." The girl placed her hands on Pamela's blouse and squeezed the breasts.

"Owww," gasped Pamela, t,ears welling in her eyes; The thumb tacks had bitten into her flesh deeply, and in fact remained there. Pamela was sure that she could feel every last one of them!

"At Avondale, you bits of fluff thank the mis- tresses for punishing you!" said the girl. "After all, y'know, punishment makes women out of you.

Now thank me for pushing the tacks in your tits, baby."

Pamela gulped, more from shame than hurt.

Could this be happening to her?

"Thanks for… for… pushing the tacks in my tits, mistress." Her face was crimson. "Much better," said the girl. "Like the feel of 'em?"

Pamela decided that discretion was the better part of valor. If this chick gets her kicks from hurting girls, I'm not going to make it easy for her, thought Pamela.

"They're okay, I guess, mistress."

"Okay?"

"Well, I do like 'em, mistress."

"Good." The girl kissed Pamela full on the mouth. It was certainly a first for Pamela! But she didn't break the kiss either, and was keenly aware of a rather tingly sensation in her loins. What the hell is happening here? she realized.

The girl ran a finger over Pamela's lips. Very tenderly and softly.

"What color panties have you got: on, baby?"

This is too much, thought Pamela. Now the girl was playing games! Well, better go along or it's more damn thumb tacks pressed into me.

"Pink ones, mistress."

"Sometimes we pull the pants off of a girl in here and hang 'em on the outside of the van. Lets people know we've got a fluff in here on her way to Avondale!"

Pamela closed her eyes. Oh, no. Please no. At least not'til I get to Avondale, she said to herself.

"Feel like doing that today," smiled the blonde.

"Ask me to!"

Pamela choked, her face flushing with fire. She licked her dry lips.

"Pull my panties off and hang 'em outside, mistress," she squeaked in a strange voice.

"Please," commanded the girl.

"Please, mistress."

The girl laughed, kissed Pamela's nose-tip and went out, slamming and locking the van doors.

"Bastard!" said Pamela softly. "Knew they didn't do things like that! Or did they?" Pamela moved upon her toes as the van made it.s way through the rain of London's West End. Her thoughts were many… and very mixed. There had been a lot of funny emotions, she realized. In fact, some of them weren't so funny at all… they were… interesting. Forget it, she admonished herself. I'm only seventeen and not into girls yet,

What the heck is the matter with me?

Pamela looked up at her taut wrists, lit dimly by the curtained windows. The punishment bra hurt.

A lot. She should be yelling or complaining! They don't do these things to girls in 1972! She laughed at her thought. They sure as hell do! Just look at me!

Another pair of handcuffs hung from the ceiling as well. Pamela wondered whether she'd have company or be left to her own thoughts for the entire journey. Within an hour she received her answer, as the van suddenly stopped.

Pamela naturally had no idea where the stop had been made, although she knew it was far out of

London from the utter lack of traffic noises. The rain however still beat upon the roof over her head accompanied by an occasional thunder clap. She was glad of the respite, for the moving vehicle had made her jostle and sway in her chains thus causing far more discomfort to her encircled wrists than when standing stilL

The door swung open and the blonde woman pulled a girl up into the van by her hair. In the semi-darkness Pamela could not fully study the girl, but she saw that she was her age and pretty.

It was also obvious that the girl was receiving a little harsher treatment than she had. The girl's hands were untied and her raincoat removed before the woman pushed the chain button on the side of the wall causing the silver links to lower to the floor. The cuffs were attached to the girl's ankles, the button pushed again, and she rose upwards by her feet until they were close to the van roof. The girl swung freely, her. skirt falling down to her chest. The woman tied her hands to Pamela's ankles and Pamela found herself looking through the girl's legs.

"In case you're interested," said the woman, "my name's Jan. I will be your mistress at Avon- dale, which makes you two my slaves. You will be called slaves, for that is what you are until your parole."

Pamela digested Jan's words with a rather tongue-in-cheek acceptance. "Slave" wasn't a very modern word, after all. But Jan had said it without emphasis. It just rolled off her tongue like any other word. Well, thought Pamela, if she gets her kicks that way, okay.

"I'm twenty-four, like my job, like girls your age, am good at what I do! It won't matter whether you like me or not, or play up to me, or make me angry. You'll get, the same treatment either way."

It was just that quick and she was out the door.

The van pulled away into the murky rain.

"Cor," said Pamela. "Something else, isn't she? Well, at least she's not fat and ugly. Kinda cute in fact. But I think she's gonna be tough on us. I suspect she likes it. One of those kind! Hey hon, what the heck did you do to get hung up like that?"

"Sassed her in front of mum," said the girl.

"Sorry my voice is upside down. My name is Donna Carson, what's yours?"

"Pamela McNee. Pam for short, obviously. Sorry we can't see each other, Donna," laughed Pamela.

"All I'm looking at is a pair of white panties and you a pair of ankles!"

Donna laughed. "Oh, well. At. least it's different as introductions go!"

Pamela liked Donna at once. Many girls probably would have been complaining, or swearing, or sobbing, or silent in their thoughts, but Donna was a talker, and seemed more than willing to accept her situation with lightness. Well, why not, thought Pamela. Far better than to bitch or make it any worse. It'll be bad enough at Avondale as it is.

"I like you, Donna Carson," laughed Pamela.

"You're something else! Glad I'll have a sweet roommate anyway!"

"Thanks! I like you too, Pam McNee. Let's be good friends. Maybe it will make it easier to get through all this if we have each other's shoulder to cry on at times. I think when two girls share the same problems it makes them real close because they can sympathize with each other's emotions and all. You see, I'm a philosopher and a sage!"

"Oh, Donna, you're a loony, you are!" laughed

Pamela. "You're fun! But what you say is true, hon. Let's be real close."

"Know anything about Avondale?" asked Donna.

"Heck no, do you?"

"Knew a chick that went there once. 'Bout three years ago. Told me that they put rings in you in several obvious places. Also whip you a lot."

"You're putting me on!" said Pamela. "You mean just like in the old-time training schools?"

"Yep. Well, Pam, girls are still girls. If they took it fifty years ago no reason why we can't. We're just as good as any fluff back then! Besides, six months here is sure better than three years in the can, no matter what they do to girls!"

"Well, you're right about that, Donna. Did your friend say it was awful?"

"Funny thing. She didn't seem to regret it at all.

Fact is, I got t,he impression that she… rather liked it. She was some chick when she got out.

Changed and all. Real sexy and sure of herself now."

"She must have been kinky!" laughed Pamela.

"Not really."

Pamela thought about that for a minute how the hell could a girl like rings and whips? Oh well It takes all kinds.

"Ever make it with a girl, Pam?"

"Geez, no! Are you that way?"

"No, but I've thought about it once or twice," said Donna. "Don't you know anything about girls' correction schools?"

"No, not a damn thing, Donna. You mean they have lesbian stuff going on there?"

Donna laughed. "You're precious, Pam! Did' know there were any more left like you! 'Course they do. There's no boys you know, except once in a while they make you put out to a boy.s' school inmates. It's just girls all the rest of the time.

Didn't you see how that Jan looked at us? Didn't she feel up your tits in front of your mom?"

"Well… yes," said Pamela blushing. "You mean we have to go down on her?"

"My friend said that we have to satisfy our mistress just all the time. Not only that, but we room- mates sleep together, too! Well, anyway, Jan's cute. Guess all the mistresses are cool chicks out there."

"Geez, Donna. Sounds like that doesn't bother you at all."

"No big deal. Chicks make it together all t,he time these days in London. Hell, since Rue found a girlfriend! "

Pamela laughed. "Donna, I'm glad I was thrown in with you. You make everything sound so… acceptable and easy. I'll get through this with you around!"

"Eating pussy must be fun," laughed Donna.

My friend just can't get enough these days.Avondale really changed her."

"Well,yours doesn't look too bad at all," laughed Pamela.

"How do you know, Pam?"

"'Well, baby," giggled Pamela, "girls' under-pants are nylon you know and one can see right through 'em. Where do you think your legs are?"

' "Whoops, forgot," said Donna. "Oh well, we're both girls and we sure know how a girl is designed!How's the view up there?"

Pamela had never taken so to a girl. Donna was making things so easy for them both. She felt a definite warmth towards this teenager who was still able to take things in stride. It wasn't a sexual thing right now, but just a fast-developing adoration. Yet, there was a certain tingling within her and she recognized it. Pamela bent her head and kissed Donna right on the narrow white strip of panty between her legs, leaving a perfect lipstick imprint on the white nylon. It was not intended as sexual Both girls knew that. It was that Pamela felt the need to kiss Donna for her beautiful friend- ship, and Donna's sex was the only place available at the moment! Donna's hands gave a brief squeeze to Pamela's ankles in response, not from sexual emotion, but as a thank you for Pamela's love and affection so apparent in the brief kiss.

"Never kissed a girl on the pussy before," said Pamela. "Nor anywhere else for that matter."

It was silent for a moment.

"I know, Pam. That's why it meant so much.

Thank you, hon."

The levity was gone now, wiped away by the suddenly obvious warmth the two girls had for each other.

"Pam?"

"Yes?"

"Would you have kissed me there if… I didn't have panties on?"

Pamela's reply came only after a moment's pause.

"Yes." Donna squeezed her ankles again.

The van seemed to go on and on through the rain, and the two girls pitched and swayed in their joint bondage. The bond of sharing had become strong between them and neither would think of complaining to the other.

"Oh, Donna, I'm right side up and you're upside down. Poor baby. Is it uncomfortable?"

"A little. Did Jan put a punishment bra on you,

Pam? She did on me. Makes a girl wish she didn't have tits."

"Yes, hon. I'm wearing one too. I know what you mean. It's a bitch to feel those tacks in your skin."

The journey seemed endless, but of course it wasn't. The van had pulled to a halt before the ad- ministration building, and the doors were opened.

Jan bounced up into the truck.

"Well, look what we have here!" smiled Jan as she saw the red kiss imprint between Donna's legs.

"Just couldn't wait to get at her could you, fluff?"

"No… please… it wasn't like that at all, Jan."

Jan's hand cracked across Pamela's face snapping her head back.

"Mistress Jan, you little bitch!" Jan unshackled both girls, and Donna fell to the floor as the blood rushed from her head now that she was right side up again.

"That lipstick mark is kinda cute," smiled Jan.

"But remember, both of you, I'm your love from now on! In your bed at night I don't care what you fluffs do to each other, but the rest of the time I'm your whole world so you'd better start falling in love with me right now! Now, I think I'd better have one of those lipstick souvenirs, don't you? From both of you, and they'd better be put on perfectly, one right next to the other. Here, put some fresh lipstick on. Really kind of a cute idea. Never thought, of it before!"

Pamela blanched and looked at Donna for help.

Donna nodded softly. Why buy trouble already? her look indicated. In a gesture of affection for Pamela, Donna went first. She knelt in front of Jan who stood with spread thighs, her skirt held up to her waist. Jan's white panties fit like skin. Donna put her hands behind Jan and held her bottom cheeks softly. The kiss was applied.

Pamela was grateful that Donna had offered to go first. The girl was becoming more beautiful to her each passing moment! Pamela followed Donna's lead. She grasped Jan's bottom and planted her kiss just above Donna's on the white slippery panty strip. It was very warm there, and perfumed, and quite wet from Jan's emotion. Pamela could feel the wet sex lips through the nylon, and she let her kiss linger quite long. Jan squirmed, and her hands twisted within Pamela's long brown hair.

"Very nice, Pamela." Jan looked down at t,he two red imprints before dropping her mini-skirt.

Jan led the girls along the cement walk to the entrance and it came quite natural for Pamela and

Donna to hold hands as they walked towards the ivy building.

"You little minx," whispered Donna while smiling. "Why'd you kiss her pussy so long?"

"Figure whatever they give us, or do to us, or make us do, we'll just do it better and longer! We'!! love longer, and scream Louder when they hurt us:

Make 'em see that we are two real girls!"

"That's beautiful, Pam. Really it is. The.most beautiful thing I ever heard. I'm with you. As long as we have each other we'll show'em!"

The held hands squeezed together with a mes- sage of love and caring.

Their room was on the second floor, and as rooms went, was really quite nice and comfortable. For one person. There was only one chest of drawers and one bed, the latter very narrow and obviously meant for one girl. The implication was not lost on

Pamela and Donna, but neither remarked about it,

Nor did they comment on the pair of chains hanging from the ceiling.

The girls unpacked and immediately found n space problem for their things, but the solution was forthcoming from Pamela.

"Look, hon, this whole thing isn't gonna be a picnic. This isn't a hotel. We're squeezed in here like two peas in a pod, and the idea is very clear.

We're gonna be one, not two! We're just about the same size. Let's just throw all our stuff together in t,he chest and not worry about what belongs to whom. We'll just wear each other's stuff. What say'?"

"Even panties?"

"Why not?"

"O.K. by me, love."

In the early evening, Jan appeared and took the girls down to the library to meet the "in-charge."

Pamela had thought about the headmistress or warden or keeper or whatever one calls her. Her visions conjured up a woman of fifty, hard, masculine looking, severe clothes, with a forty-foot whip in her hand. With spikes in it. Her vision was nicely shattered by Ravan who sat waiting for them in a recliner chair. The woman was perhaps forty, still with a slim, lovely figure and a face of classic feminine maturity so natural to that age.

She would have appealed to men of any age, and pleased them well. It was not a hardened face at all. Indeed, it was a face of soft loveliness with most attractive and understanding eyes of green.

Her skirt was short, in style with the times, and her legs were still very much fit to wear such things. She motioned for the girls to sit.

"My name is Ravan," she said in a soft voice.

"Not Miss Ravan, or wardeness, or mistress or anything else. Just… Ravan. I am in charge of the ten slaves that are here. Jan is in charge of you two specifically."

It was that word again. Slaves. How easily and naturally she had used it, the same as Jan!

"Avondale is not.a game. It is not fun… at first. You consider yourselves fortunate to be sent here rather than jail, I'm sure. Within very many days however, you will be willing to trade your six months here for a few years in jail You can count on it. But. in time, that will pass. There is a school of thought that young ladies are redirected more efficiently by a shorter and more severe incarceration, than by languishing in jail for two or three years. The latter seem to come out worse than be- fore, but an Avondale girl leaves a very beautiful and reoriented young lady indeed. Society has willed, mistakingly I might add, that the training of young ladies in 'proper schools' is against the grain of modern living. A century ago, even thirty years ago, England abounded with training schools. Not prisons, or reform schools, but, proper schools of great esteem where every young English girl would give her right arm to at,tend. It was an honor, for such girls who were fortunate to go left as beautiful young women."

"In those days, the cane and the whip and the chain were considered part of becoming a lovely young woman. Girls knew that they required such things, arid their parents did too. It was as much part of training as studies or posture or good grooming. It was not feared. It was wanted. Girls were thrilled to be able to attend such schools, and the punishments and the rings were accepted with pleasure."

Pamela and Donna listened with rapt attention to this rather exciting history lesson! They held hands.

"Then, of course, society became benevolent. Or so they thought Such schools were disbanded in the interest of 'decency'. They were hand-wringing fools of course. Those who made laws were not female, and they had no concept of what girls required or desired. They knew not that punishment is the greatest blessing a girl can accept, for it molds her into a creature of pure delight.

"Even women's prisons were changed. The do-goaders decided that a well-applied whip to a woman's body was much too 'medieval'. So instead of an internment of a few weeks with some constructive whipping each day, the social reformers decided that it was much more 'decent' and proper to throw a woman in jail for five years! When she gets out she's bitter, morose, older, and hasn't gained a thing towards being a beautiful woman.

The utter fools!

"Twenty-two years ago I was one of the first inmates here at Avondale. It had been a training school for young ladies for a century, before being closed by the 'reformers'. After a few years, it was reopened as a semi-reform institution for first-time offenders like yourselves. Very fortunately, the woman placed in charge, a very gracious and lovely older lady I might add, had attended Avondale when it was still a training school. She threw away the guidebooks and regulations, and ran the school as she saw fit in the only way she had learned. She was a blessing, for she proved over and over and over that young girls today respond to the same things as girls did in her day, and she turned out some of the most beautiful creatures possible.

Some of them you would recognize if I told you their names. Actresses, TV starlets.

"The first time I was whipped here, I cried for my mother. Within a month I went willingly to the whipping room. And when I left, I cried again.

Because I wanted to stay at Avondale! I know, as I look at you both, that you find these things hard to believe. But it is so, and the day you leave you will remember what I have told you today."

Pamela and Donna shared the same thoughts. It was indeed hard to believe! Yet, the woman's face revealed pure honesty and sincerity.

"I went on to college," continued Ravan, "and shortly thereafter I read where this most gracious lady had passed away. I applied for the position of in-charge; and due to the fact that I had graduated with honors and had been here myself, I was appointed to the post. That was eighteen years ago, and I have carried on in the manner which. I know is right for young ladies. You're looking at an ex- ample of one in me, and in your mistress Jan, for my five mistresses have all been here as inmates. I will not employ any woman who has not gone through Avondale herself."

Pamela and Donna looked around at Jan with new respect and a sudden admiration. Jan winked at them.

"Fortunately, government inspections are rare and seldom get by the front office. No girl has ever left here angry or sullen. Each of them has thanked me personally on the day they left! I still get letters regularly from dozens of them after all these years, some whose signatures you would immediately recognize! The old methods are still the best, as you will learn.

"Now, as to your stay here. You are indeed slaves, in every sense of the word. Each of the five mistresses own two girls, body and soul, and they are responsible for your care and training. Slavery is the only way possible here, and it is the ultimate glory to serve as such. A girl cannot become a truly beautiful entity unless she has been a slave. Fe- males have recognized that from the beginning of time. It is part of being female. You will indeed be whipped, over and over, for the whip is like food or air or water to a girl. She requires it like she does sleep or play or love. At first you will acclimate yourselves to the whip. Then you will accept it.

Then you will receive pleasure from it. Finally it. will become sexual to you and you will desire it.

Ultimately you will enjoy seeing another girl receiving it and will desire to use it yourself upon a girl. And you will be allowed to."

Pamela's gasp was audible. This was all too much, too fast! Yet, looking at Ravan, she knew her words were possibly true. Why would she lie'!

"There are many other punishments you will accept, too numerous to go into here. But all are given for a reason, and all are intended t,o train you into ultimate femininity. That is why only females are used to apply these punishments. Girls need to be hurt, and only other females can properly do it, for they know a female body. You are not punished for misdeeds or bad behavior, for you will commit few indiscretions. You are punished because you require it as you do your meals. You are punished regularly in various and different ways according to a well-proven format laid out in my guidebooks.

Additionally, of course, you will be ringed for this is a tradition and pleasure, which dates back to the beginning of females. Rings mean total submission and total femininity to a girl, and thousands of girls in all lands have worn rings. It is not a punishment. It is a symbol and an honor which you will desire all of your lives. Yes, one of BBC Television's loveliest actresses still wears her rings in three of the four places that, they were inserted here. You watch her weekly.

"ln the old days, rings were put, into.o a girl's nipples as I'm sure you know. Today, I feel modern girls are more beautiful, healthier and sexual, and so I require a nose-ring and a ring in one vaginal lip as well. Yes, I saw you flush a little and heard your gasps, but know this..: you will quickly adore your rings! Remember too, that ancient girls of

Rome and Greece bore rings in these places and more, and loved them! Are today's girls any different? I feel that they are better, and three years ago

I improved on our nipple rings. I am quite proud of my modification. You'll know you have rings!"

The incongruous part of Ravan's words were not that they dealt with whips and rings and punishment, but that they came from such a lovely soft-spoken woman! It was hard for Pamela and Donna to rationalize such statements from such a sweet- looking woman. Unless… unless… the words were quite true! Strangely too, her words did not evoke fear and trembling. They were rather exciting in fact. Could all these things really bring joy and pleasure? Looking at Ravan, the two girls thought it. must be so. If the words had been delivered by a sadistic looking dyke they would have meant nothing. But this classic woman! Pamela felt the tingling again, and a moistness in her panties.

"You're probably wondering about clothes," said Ravan. "Another feeling of mine, shared by my wonderful predecessor, is that girls should look like girls at all times. This is another advantage of

Avondale over prison where they put dumpy and sexless uniforms on females. Here you will wear the following each day after your morning shower: clean panties, garter belt, stockings, high-heel shoes. That's it. No more, no less. You will keep yourselves clean at all times, wear perfume and fresh lipstick. You will shower in the morning and again in the evening before bed. In the shower you will thoroughly soap and wash each other, you will not do it yourself. The meaning of that should be quite clear between two girls. As far as sex is concerned, that too is part of your training and punishment. Each Saturday night the school is visited by t,he boys from Ridgeway Reform School. There will be perhaps thirty. You ten girls will supply them with your bodies for the night. This arrangement is quite discreet, and is agreed upon by the warden of Ridgeway and myself. It is not good for girls or boys to be separated like animals for too long. Both require each other fairly regularly you know. You will be supplied with the pill, but you will fuck. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ravan," said the girls. It somehow came out easy, and it made them both squirm in realization of such erotic punishment.

"You see," said Ravan, "there are many kinds of punishment that girls should bear. Not only physical, but mental as well, and emotional. Being made to fuck is quite degrading, thus beneficial to a girl."

It was impossible that such a benevolent and softly spoken woman could use such a word as "fuck" with such utter normalcy. Their minds whirled from this lengthy and numbing lecture.

"The rest of the time," continued Ravan, "you will be lesbian. You will supply your mistress with all that she desires without limit and without reservation. Obviously, you will also sleep with each other and have sex together each night as you desire. This is not an order. It is just something that you will naturally do, as all girls do, in your situation. When girls share what you will share you will fall into each other's arms every night. Eventually you will fall in love, and be 'married' in a rather quaint little ceremony and custom we have here. It is something you must ask for however. It depends upon your love for each other. Some girls do not marry, some do. It will be up to you to request it. I know that you are not particularly shocked at lesbian love. Whether either of you has tried. it, makes no difference. You have thought about it at times, because it is very normal between females. Men do not share this feeling. It will come natural to you, and is not a perversion. You two have only been together a few hours, yet I will bet that already you have had some rather… nice thoughts about each other, especially when you were bound together in the van. Am I not right?"

Pamela and Donna looked at each other sheepishly. They had been holding hands all this time, and now gave each other a squeeze. Jan, standing behind them, gave a telltale cough.

"I thought so," smiled Ravan. "You see, boys don't hold hands like you're doing! Your love will spill over to the other girls… You may feel free to bed with them too. You are allowed to sleep with any girl of course, and I suggest t,hat, you try them all sooner or later."

"Are we allowed visits by our mothers?" asked Pamela.

"Mothers are not allowed to visit," answered Ravan, "nor can you write or phone. Your mistress will write your mothers regularly informing them of your punishments and activities. She will also include photos of you being punished and having sex."

Pamela and Donna flushed sunburn red.

"This is not a game or a boarding school," said

Ravan. "You are here as offenders to be punished, and one of your punishments is to have your mothers completely informed. Now, Jan will take you back to your room and carry on from here."

As Jan led the pair back to their room. Pamela whispered to Donna.

"I heard all that, but I'm having trouble digesting it, Donna. This is 1972, isn't it? It can't be for real!"

"Baby, I think it is for real!"

Chapter Two

"You'll see the other slaves tomorrow," said

Jan. "They're in their rooms studying tonight. I don't mean studying books, I mean studying how to be better slaves. Their mistresses are teaching them, so you'll probably hear some delightful sounds! Now, strip and take a shower together.

And soap each other as Ravan pointed out. Every last place. Put on what you have been told to wear, and I will return in an hour to begin your training."

The door clicked shut, and within the room one could hear the proverbial pin drop.

"Well?" said Pamela.

"Well?" said Donna.

"Do we head for the windows or do we play girl games in the shower?" laughed Pamela.

Donna looked at the barred windows, and re- turned the laugh.

"Unless you.have a hacksaw, hon, we play girl games in the shower!"

Pamela reached across and began to unbutton Donna's blouse. When the last button was released she peeled the garment back, baring Donna's breasts. The firm mounds were beautiful, despite being flecked from the punishment bra. Pamela shivered briefly as a brand new emotion reared itself within her. She had never stripped a girl before and she found the moment rather exciting.

Why deny it?

"Crikey, you've got super tits, Donna," she said.

"Geez, I feel all funny. Want to do me?"

Donna returned the favor and unbuttoned Pamela.

"Look who's talking!" laughed Donna. "Some set of knockers you have!"

The shower was delightful after the long day.

There was no hesitation as the girls passed the bar of soap back and forth between them Their hands rubbed and smeared the foamy suds on each other with eagerness and both felt the intense stimulation generated by this activity. Ravan's words were most apparent, It was a natural thing! The feel of a slippery, soapy girl was unbelievable!

Busy hands soaped slippery breasts longer than necessary, but breasts felt so… beautiful. Lather- coated fingers ran between the deep bottom cheeks to the puckered orifice, then foamed the silken hair at their sex and the warm lips within. Pamela and Donna knew cleanliness and let their soap-laden fingers probe deep within each other. There was no point in playing puritan games and pretending nonchalance. Their gasps were loud and very hon- est. Pamela shook her hair and squealed at the. fantastic realization of what was happening. Here was a chick she only knew for a few hours and they had soapy fingers in each other!

They washed each other's legs and feet, and necks and armpits, before turning off the shower.

Neither moved to get out of the stall. They just ' looked at each other. It wasn't important as to who moved first, in fact, they probably moved together.

Their mouths met softly and held, Pamela felt Donna's arms go around her wet back, and she encircled her as well, her hands grasping the upper swells of the girl's lovely bottom. The kiss was very long, and at the end, their tongues met nicely.

Pamela dried herself with a fluffy towel, her mind in a dizzy state of shock and pleasure at her new discovery. The wetness between her legs was unbelievable! She felt clean and fresh and excited and alive! It was not necessary to say anything to each other. It would have only spoiled things probably. The silent message was there, bet,ween them, and they both received it loud and clear. Let what will be, be, Let nature have its way.

There was nothing so feminine to a girl than the feel of fresh nylon panties, garter belt, and sleek nylon stockings. And high heels. Particularly high heels! They put about four years on a girl's age with their wearing, and turned even average legs into things of beauty. A girl's legs were longer, slimmer, sexier in heels, and who could deny the sensuous sound they made when clicking down s hallway in an office building!

Donna and Pamela felt ultra-feminine when dressed.

Donna laughed nicely. "Wowee! Do you look smashing, hon!"

"Wouldn't kick you out of bed, either.'" smiled Pamela. "You are cute, Miss Carson!"

"Thank you, Miss McNee," said Donna, loving the game. "Feel like I'm only half dressed though.This is it?"

"That's it, until our parole, I guess," said Pamela.

"Cor," laughed Donna. "Bare boobs and our fur showing through our pants all day. And ten of us yet! No wonder girls get turned on by each other here! But y'know? I think it's terribly exciting!

'Magine being bare breasted for six months, Like in the jungle! Probably won't ever want to put on a bra or a blouse again. Mother simply won't understand!"

Pamela laughed. Donna was such fun to be with!

Jan returned shortly wearing a stunning white 'halter and shorts set, and Donna made a soft wolf whistle to Pamela. The latter smiled and winked.

Donna always seemed to say or do the right thing at the right time!

"Well, Miss Pink Pants and Miss White Pants, did you enjoy your shower together?" teased Jan.

"Yes, mistress," said Donna.

"Girls feel nice when they're all wet and slippery, don't they?"

It didn't require an answer.

"Fun and games are over for awhile, fluffs," said Jan with sudden seriousness. "We'll try a little thumb-hanging for an hour or two, and then I think you'll be ready to show me how much you… appreciate me."

"Thumb-hanging!" exclaimed Pamela. "You've gotta be kidding! That went out with the Inquisition!"

"Did they hang girls by the thumbs in the Inquisition?" asked Jan.

"Guess so," said Donna.

"Are you girls?" asked Jan.

"Yes."

"Do you have thumbs?"

"Yes."

"Well?" smiled Jan.

"Geez!" gasped Donna. "She means it!"

"Look, Jan… I'm sorry… I mean, mistress

Jan… you don't have to do that to us," said Pamela. "We're not kindergarten kids and we know the score. We'll go down on you if you want."

Jan's hand bounced off of Pamela's face, bringing tears to her eyes.

"Go down on me?" she yelled. "What kind of baby talk is that? Say it right, bitch!"

Jan's words stung and Pamela blushed.

"We'll suck your pussy, mistress. But look, you don't have to string us up, do you?"

"You're damn right you will! Whenever I say 'eat' you'll eat! Stringing you up has nothing to do with it at all. This isn't a country day school for kids, you know. You're here to be punished, and that you will be. In a few days, hanging by your thumbs will be third-grade stuff to you! Now stick out, your thumbs. I don't want to hear another word."

Joke time was indeed over, and the girls knew it!

They offered their hands to Jan's cords. She tied them with loops and threw the length of the cords over the heavy ring which hung on the end of the ceiling chain. Jan secured the cords to the ring and flipped a wall switch. Pamela and Donna rose slowly into the air until they swung free of the carpet, their bodies flat against each other, Their shoes fell off with a clatter.

Donna just gasped. Pamela said, "Geez." Jan left.

How can one portray the first utter and total shock of strict bondage? At first, it is supposed, it must feel unreal to a girl Then she knows it is very real! Neither said a word for some time. They had imagined that such torture would probably break their thumbs. But it didn't. The pain and discomfort were there, and it was intense at first, but as the minutes ticked by, somehow a girl acclimated herself to such things. Indeed, girls had acclimated themselves to such things since time began. The mystery of girls is yet to be solved.

Sweat began to trickle along the armpits of Pamela and Donna, and their normally full and curving breasts were now flat and tight against each other's! Pamela felt Donna's nipples harden against her own, and in response, her own erected.

"Hurt?" said Donna.

"A little."

"This is stupid," said Donna. "Here I am strung up like a medieval witch. I should be yellin' my head off but no, not Donna, my nipples are all long and sexy like I enjoyed this bit!"

"You think mine aren't?" laughed Pamela.

"Maybe girls just like this kinky stuff!"

"Anyway," said Donna, "it's nice to feel you against me. Takes away some of the hurting."

"Feeling is mutual, honey," replied Pamela.

"Does seem easier when we share it together. Hope we always get punished together."

"I'd like that, Pam."

An hour dragged by without, a sign of Jan. The girls found that it was much easier not to squirm or move, but,just to hang quietly.

"Wanna kiss a little?" asked Donna. "Maybe it'll take our mind off this bloody thing."

"We can try it," said Pamela.

The kissing did help, but it also caused some other problems.

"Hey," said Pamela, "my pants are gettin' wet from kissing you, girl. Maybe we better ease off and cool it!"

"I know. I can feel you down there," said Donna.

"Right you are, Pam. We'll just get ourselves all in a lather."

In the long run, it was better to do nothing. Idle chatter for awhile was helpful, but that soon ran out too, and thus the two girls followed the pat,tern of a thousand girls before them. They hung silently and naturally from their cords. The Romans knew it and the Egyptians knew it. Girls could hang for- ever if required, such was the mystery of a female.

History made no difference, or age of a female as well. Babylonian females hung by their thumbs in silken skirts. London birds of 1972 hung in skin- tight panties and stockings. Girls had not changed, only the clothes.

Pamela and Donna hung for three hours before their mistress returned. Jan found what she had expected on their faces. The flippancy and humor were gone, replaced with a strained reality, and the observable signs of submission. The first real truth was there, unmistakably, in their eyes. They knew that they were indeed slaves, regardless of the time in history.

Jan was pleased, but not surprised. Girls were all the same. That's what made them so deliciously beautiful and desirable. She ran her hands tenderly over both moist silken backs, and felt the slight tremors of pleasure that her caresses had caused in the girls. Girls responded so wonderfully to girls.

After the hours of bondage, her touches had been like an oasis to Pamela and Donna, and Jan had heard the faint "ohhhh" from both throats. If a girl was past puberty, she could be played like a violin by another female, and be made to do most anything desired. Girls could resist men until the death, but they could not resist each other, the simple reason being, of course, that they did not want to! Right now, Pamela and Donna could be played like a symphony, the bondage and the hurt being the arrangement. Jan smiled at this strange and delightful uniqueness of females. Under the worst of torture a female could not be broken by a man.

Yet, the soft touch, or kiss, of another female could send her to her knees!

Jan had her Polaroid and snapped several photos of Pamela and Donna hanging by their thumbs in joint discomfort. It would be the first of many sent to their mothers during the six months spent at Avondale.

There was one rewarding feature of hanging by the thumbs for several hours. It felt delightful to be let down! Pamela and Donna also learned an elementary lesson in relationships with t,heir mis- tress; one which girls had learned for centuries. No matter how hateful one might feel towards a mis- tress for putting her in discomforting bondage, the same mistress was showered with gratitude and love for finally releasing her. The utter relief from the pain and hurt removed all traces of bitterness and replaced it with respect and gratitude for eliminating that hurt. It was a formula as old as the ages, and it was a mathematical equation of unerring reliability. Pamela and Donna were now in- stilled with a much more fervent dedication towards Jan than if she had not hurt them. She who giveth also taketh away. Jan's status was now all important. She was everything to Pamela and Donna, for she held their fate in every way possible. Indeed, it was of course the reason Jan had strung them up as she had done so many others in the past. The lesson must be learned. The punishment and training of girls was not a haphazard thing. There was a reason for everything, naturally.

Thus, when Jan led the two to the bed, it re- quired no pulling. Pamela and Donna knew the score. Yet, it was their first time and the emotion it brought was akin to the first time with a are double virgins, and have their chastity taken from them once each by a male and female. The girls were most aware of this virginity with an- other female and the knowledge of what was about to happen was rather exciting, as it would be to any girl.

For Pamela, the anticipation was even more pronounced than it had been the first time with a boy.

Then, it had been a passionate romp in the parlor after a movie. It had been nice, but quick and un- satisfying. Later episodes with boys had proved more fulfilling. Her present situation was much different, and much more stimulating, for in every sense of the word she was a sex slave to this blonde mistress called Jan. While it was not quite rape, it was nearly so, for if she refused she would be made to do so under punishment: Besides, she had hung by her thumbs for a long time thinking about what was going to happen. Anticipation was ninety per- cent of anything! Twenty-four hours ago Pamela was not even thinking about girls, or the sex- ual connotation therein, but her world had been changed quickly. Yet, she rather liked this new world, for like most girls she often thought about how another girl would feel t,o her. Few girls don't.

The love affair always lurks within every girl, but some do not fulfill it, and regret it.

The two watched breathlessly as Jan disrobed.

Jan was all woman! She was luscious. She was the type of female that immediately appealed to both men and women, and it was doubtful that even the most conservative young girl could resist her body for long. Pamela's tongue licked her lips, not from a want or desire, but purely from a habit she had whenever she liked something. Jan was pure sex.

Even her undressing had beauty to it.

Donna shared Pamela's thoughts exactly. She knew that at Avondale she would soon be obliged to be lesbian, and visualized all sorts of husky crude women to satisfy. When Jan had picked her up at her home, she had nearly squealed in relief.

The first lesbian experience is so important to a girl. It can shape all future such activity, and if the first is with a beautiful creature, such as Jan, the possibilities were limitless. Ravan knew this well, and her five mistresses were quite lovely. Lesbianism at Avondale was not punishment, it was an opening of a door to the girls, who would forever be thankful. It made all the rest worthwhile.

Jan lay sprawled on the bed, legs beautifully apart. and at that moment one delightful part of her was like a beacon.

"Eat!" she said. It was a simple word, but it said everything. It was not a word of endearment or a request to make love together. It was a command, devoid of all tenderness and misunderstanding.

Yet, both Pamela and Donna knew why it had to be that way. One did not make love with a mistress.

One made love to a mistress. The return of her tongue was something not to be asked for… ever.

But it was, and would be. a constant hope, that may or may not come. It would burn and burn in intensity, but could never be assumed or requested.

If and when it did come, the sky would explode in galaxy of unbelievable fulfillment!

The word had not been said by Jan as a sadistic bark. If it had, it would not have had the effect it did on Pamela. It had been said in the same man- near of command as if the order were to pick up a book or close a window, and it immediately conveyed the message that such things were common and normal for an Avondale girl to do to her mis- tress. It was not an erotic moment or a significant adventure at Avondale. It was just a normal occurrence that happened daily, perhaps several times daily. This was exactly the reason that Jan had said it that way. She knew that Pamela and Donna were girl-virgin, but she wanted to reduce this activity to a natural, common activity that was expected and given without fanfare or highlight.

Girls just simply ate their mistresses all there was to it!

Pamela lowered herself to Jan. She had never made love to a girl, but even she knew that.one didn't partake of the main course before the hors d'neuvres. She put her arms tenderly around Jan and kissed her warmly on the mouth. It was her first girl-kiss and it was tingly. Jan's arms went around Pamela, not as a return of affection, for mistresses didn't return such things with new girls. It was just a normal reaction for any female when kissed by another, and it was more or less in- voluntary. Pamela tasted next the nipples, and was excited to feel them erect from her activity.

It made her feel at least adequate to the task on her first venture. Pamela's face lowered and her thoughts raced with realization of what she was about to do for the first time. Then she was there, licking, kissing, plunging.

The receipt of Pamela's tongue was nothing new for Jan. She had felt girl-tongue hundreds of times.

Yet, there was always something sensual about a new girl's first time, and her lack of expertise was more than compensated by the erotic knowledge that it was a virginal experience. For Jan, a new girl-virgin was terribly arousing and she responded most thoroughly to Pamela's efforts. Pamela was pleased that Jan had begun to squirm and to be- come very wet. When Jan's hands tangled themselves in her hair, Pamela was thrilled. She was actually doing it! She was pleasing this experienced woman on her very first try! It was like a student pleasing a master virtuoso. Pamela squealed in delight as Jan lurched and moaned in orgasm. She arose, wiped her wet mouth, and stood very proudly to watch Donna repeat the scene.

Pamela received almost as much excitement from watching Donna as she had from doing it herself, and was thrilled for Donna when she too brought Jan over the brink. Jan once again, when

Donna had finished, picked up her camera and had the two girls take photos of each other licking her sex. Pamela and Donna knew where these photos were going as well, and cringed in embarrassment;

Perhaps the letters would get lost en route! No.

They would get home.

Jan began to put on her clothes and smiled at the cute smugness on the faces of her slaves.

"You look like two satisfied cats," she said. "Big deal. So you think you're hot stuff 'cause you made me come? Hell, any girl can make another girl climax. You're nothing at this point. You're always … hell… you're not even that yet. You have to earn the right to be called good slaves, and to be called women! You don't even know what being a woman is yet. But you will. I'll let you know when you've earned that title!"

Pamela and Donna blushed from the tongue-lashing, their self-satisfaction down the drain.

"By the time you've gotten me off maybe a hundred times you'll learn how t,o do it right, hope- fully, and make me last ten minutes or longer. You don't wolf down a meal like you just did, you eat it with pleasure and patience. Right now, you haven't even been whipped yet. You're not even girls yet. Know what you are? To me you're just a pair of cunts! Now get down on your knees and tell me what you are!"

Pamela, and Donna did just that, using Jan's choice word to describe themselves. It wasn't easy, and brought a tingle to pink cheeks.

"O.K. I can see you're wet. So get it going in bed together," said Jan. "But get some sleep. You'll need it, believe me." The door slammed behind her.

"Wow," said Donna, "right temper she has and all that!" She put her arms around Pamela.

"It was nice though, wasn't it, hon?" purred

Pamela. "Girls taste good. Well, baby, I think we're in for all get out tomorrow. Let's hit the bed."

The light was switched off and the two climbed into the narrow bed.

"Crikey," said Pamela, "only way we can fit in here is to put our arms around each other!"

"Well… what's wrong with that, Pam?"

"Nothing." They embraced each other, and the room fell silent.

"Donna?"

"Yes?"

"How can a girl get to sleep when she's got a warm wonderful friend in her arms? I mean… you're all curvy and warm and kinda wet."

"Same thing just occurred to me," laughed Donna.

"Well… we could do something about it," whispered Pamela.

"Like this?" Donna kissed Pamela on the mouth.

"I think we'll fall in love sooner or later, darling," said Pamela.

"Let's make it sooner," said Donna nibbling

Pamela's ear.

For the next hour the room echoed only two sounds. The ticking of the alarm clock, and tender girl-noise.

Pamela and Donna awoke in the morning with a delightfully new outlook on females! When Jan came bouncing in wearing white shorts and T-shirt the girls looked at her in a far different way than they would have twenty-four hours earlier. They had showered and put on fresh panties and stockings.

"Good morning, slaves," said Jan. It was said cheerfully.

"Good morning, mistress," came a chorus of two. Today the words came so easily it surprised them.

"Off to the nurse to get your rings. Then you'll meet the other slaves. They're cute. You'll like them." Jan was in a very good mood it seemed.

The rings! They knew of the rings of Avondale.

It had all sunk in yesterday and was expected.

They had talked about it in bed between delicious tastes of each other.

Jan led the girls to the medical lab and turned them over to the nurse before leaving.

"Hello, I'm Sabrina," said the nurse. Pamela and Donna said nothing. They were having trouble taking Sabrina in.

The girl was deep brunette, with long hair, perhaps twenty-six. Her nurses' uniform was quite more than had been expected by the girls, but after last night, very delightful indeed. The top was form-fitting, and by the two pinkish spots, it was very obvious that there was no bra underneath.

The little skirt was just that. Little. It came down only as far as the bottom of Sabrina's white panties, if that. The strip of panty that swung between her legs was not covered at all. She was a study in exciting white. Yesterday Sabrina would have received a glance from the girls. Today, a thorough assessment!

"O.K., let's get to it," said Sabrina pleasantly.

"Take your pants off, and… Pamela… you're first. Up on the table, hon."

Pamela assumed her position on the table, lying flat. Sabrina tied her wrists and arms to bolts at the four corners. Pamela once again was rather stunned by the pure acceptance of bondage at

Avondale. It was put on just like a coat would be at home, and because it was, it became so much easier for a girl to acclimate herself to. Yet, it was stunning, in a way, to know that this lovely nurse had bound her and was about to put rings in her as merely her oft-repeated job! As Sabrina had tied her, she had told the girls about her husband and three young children, and her involvement in community and church affairs.

Pamela's thoughts were once again muddled.

How could such a lovely nurse, and devoted family woman, calmly tie and ring girls? Unless, once again, such things were indeed beneficial for girls.

Pamela was beginning to believe that perhaps it just might be so.

"Before I came," said Sabrina, "they used to have straps on this table, but I thought that that was rather unfeminine and medical looking. Ropes are much nicer looking on a girl, and much sexier."

There it was again. Lovely married nurse, nice children, yet totally into girls as a natural and accepted thing. Pamela was beginning to learn more and more about this delightful attraction be- tween females, all the time! The halls of Avondale had smiled with pleasure upon it for over a century. It was the utter normalcy of it that aroused Pamela.

"You'll take five rings," said Sabrina in a matter- of-fact voice. "One in each nipple, one in the nose, and one in each pussy lip. Don't want anesthetic, do you, darling? Haven't had a fluff ask for it since a year ago."

"Geez!" said Pamela.

"Sorry, hon, what did you say?"

"I said, geez. I knew to expect the nipple-rings, but the others! Geez!"

Sabrina laughed. "Didn't Jan tell you then?

She's a tease, she is. Well, up until ten years ago nipple-rings were all that were put into a girl, but Ravan decided, correctly I might add, that modern girls should be able to accept them easily. After all, Pamela, Roman and Greek girls took five rings or more, you know. Are you not as good as they?"

"I guess so," said Pamela. "Have you had… all those rings?"

"Sure. I loved 'em too. You'll feel different when you see them in you and get used to them. You'll never be a woman until you're ringed, you know.

Well, we'll start with those precious nipples of yours, okay?"

"O.K.," said Pamela. "Might as well start some- where. Go!"

Sabrina took a long hypo-type tool from its berth in an alcohol bottle, and laid it next to Pamela. Her hands gently played with Pamela's breasts. Yet again the philosophy of girls was driven home to Pamela. When one had a bound girl in front of her, you simply played with her breasts. That's what they were there for, and when one thought about it, why not? It felt nice to both girls, didn't it?

Pamela uttered a little gasp as the tool pierced her left nipple cleanly near its base, then the right.

The shiny rings were perhaps the size of a poker chip, and relatively thick. Pamela could feel their weight immediately. They felt strange and heavy, yet at the same time, sensual and nice. Pamela's nipples erected from t,he feel of the rings and sent a tingle through her.

"Girls in the old days here had rings twice as big," said Sabrina, "and some of them were as young as thirteen, I'm told."

"Crikey," said Pamela.

"Rings have been smaller since the war, I under- stand, but a few years ago Ravan added something to make up for it. It's beautiful! Wish I had been able to feel her addition, but I was gone from here for sometime before she thought of it. Really makes a girl know she has rings in her nipples, it does!"

Sabrina showed Pamela two short, but thick, locking pins.

"Your nipple-rings have a hole in one spot which I have centered within your nipples. These sharp locking pins are put lengthwise into the tip of your nipples, and pushed down through until they lock into the hole in the rings. That way, your nipples are ringed two ways, the normal lateral way, and also lengthwise as well. A girl's nipples are pretty well filled up with metal of course, Ravan's way, but you'll love it! Doesn't hurt a nipple on a girl to have as much as it can hold. Besides hon, you'll find that they respond to a girl's mouth just as well as before. Nipples are quite amazing you know."

"Geezl" said Pamela again. Yet, undeniably, there was wetness between her legs.

Sabrina pushed the locking pins down into Pamela's nipples, and this time Pamela squirmed like a stuck fish upon the table, emitting a distinct "oww" on each occasion. The rings through the sex lips weren't quite as hurtful for Pamela, but produced a new wave of emotional wonderment at the calm and businesslike manner in which the nurse had performed the task. Only a day before Pamela would have equated such punishment with the horrors of a medieval dungeon, yet here was a lovely and sophisticated young nurse performing the deed in the same manner which she would have applied a Band Aid to a cut. How was it possible that a young woman could pierce and ring a girl's sex with such complete calmness and aplomb?

How could one female do it to another so cheer- fully? How could this nurse go about her social and church life at home, keeping from her friends the tasks she performed at Avondale? These questions which Pamela asked herself were also answered by herself. Sabrina had been ringed herself and thus obviously believed in the symbol and value of the rings!

The piercing of her sex aroused Pamela greatly, despite the hurt. The eroticism of being bound and spread, and having another female doing punishing activities to her sex was fantastic mentally.

For the first time, Pamela began to feel a kinky pleasure in receiving punishment from another female, and it was rather exciting to admit it to herself.

The vaginal rings were smaller than the nipple rings, and the nose-ring was smallest of all by design. A nose-ring simply could not be too large or it would get in the way of the mouth and lips. Al- though it was the only ring not put through a girl's sexual parts, it had its own significance, and was undoubtedly the most degrading ring a girl could be forced to wear. Unlike the other rings, which could be hidden by clothing, a nose-ring was naked for all to see and actually screamed out its meaning of slavery. It had been said that when slave girls had been ringed before being displayed on the

Roman slave blocks! they had not made a sound when their nipples and sex lips were hung with rings. But most squealed and swished their hair from side to side when they felt the ring go into their nose, for it was the very ultimate symbol of slavery and loss of pride.

Pamela moaned sexually when Sabrina had ringed her nose, caused more than anything by the knowledge that it was now the fifth ring put into her. At this point Pamela joined thousands of girls of eras past. By the time this many rings had been put into a female, even under her violent protest, she no longer really cared. It would be possible to put a dozen rings into a female now, and she would utter no protest, for she knew she was completely ringed and further rings could disgrace her no more. Pamela bounced down from the table after being untied and, like a colt finding its legs, walked about the room to acclimate herself to the feel of her rings.

The first awareness was of the strange new weight the rings produced at their location. She could feel each of the five, individually and completely, and they caused an unbelievable awareness of those particular body parts in which they rested.

Pamela felt all nipples, nose and pussy! The second awareness was one of extreme sexual arousement caused by the rings' contact with her most sensitive sexual parts. As punishments went, rings were gorgeous!

Sabrina laughed at Pamela's activity in a friendly manner. She always loved to study the antics of a newly ringed girl. The girl's eyes would dart from ring to ring in a mixture of disbelief and wonderment. Her fingers would touch and hold each of the rings tenderly in turn, and her face would be a combination of blushing and sexual excitement. At this moment how very.beautiful a girl was!

"You look yummy', Pamela," smiled Sabrina.

"Wet?"

"You know I am,". said Pamela. "Darn near came when you ringed my pussy."

"Quite normal, hon. Do you like your rings?"

"Oh, Sabrina. I'm really so confused right now.

Everything has happened so fast around here. But … I really think I do love them!"

"For a day or two," said Sabrina, "you'll be aware of them constantly, but you'll soon find that they just become part of you. Your nipple-rings are larger than the others as you can see, and of course they have the locking pins too, so your nipples will always feel sexy to you and keep erect much of the time. You'll find that you'll have to learn how to suck a girl's nipple all over again. You take the nipple and locking pin in your mouth and put your lips up against the ring. It works fine and despite all that brass inside a nipple it will respond very normally to a mouth, Take care also when kissing a girl so that you don't get your nose-ring all tangled up with hers!"

For some reason, Pamela felt very, very proud … and very much a woman. She had uncovered yet some new emotions within herself. She was thrilled that at seventeen she had been ringed like an ancient slave girl. It made her feel twenty-one.

She had discovered that being punished was not all punishment, and that being hurt produced some hitherto unknown pleasures of very erotic and mysterious nature. She also found, surprisingly, that when she watched Donna ringed she actually enjoyed it and that Donna's squeals and "owws" were not unpleasant to her!

Sabrina took some photos of the two before Jan returned to take them to meet the other girls.

Sabrina waved goodbye to Pamela and Donna as she sat on the table writing in her record log. Her legs were slightly apart and her panties were soaked. It told the whole story to Pamela and Donna.

The other slaves had been assembled in the library to finally meet the newcomers, and caused a soft gasp from Pamela when she saw them. The sudden effect of seeing eight other girls, all dressed and ringed as she, was overwhelming!

In the first place, considering that there were eight, they were all attractive in one way or an- other. In.the second place, although Pamela had seen a group of nearly nude girls in school locker- rooms, she had not seen a group in garter belts, stockings and heels. It made them all look like models, and after her introduction to the pleasures of lesbianism, Pamela now looked at girls differently! Lastly, the vision of the rings in cute breasts and pert noses was devastating! It reminded Pamela of how an ancient harem must have looked. The scene was definitely very sexual to Pamela and Donna.

All of the eight had been at Avondale for some time of course, and they always enjoyed new girls and new friends. Ravan was there, and introduced them.

"This is Pamela and Donna," she said. She ran off each girl's name.

"Heather, Sandy, Lisa, Tricia, Maryl, Abby,Kathy, Ginny."

The girls were most friendly and warm, and each of them came bouncing over t,o kiss Pamela and

Donna. Pamela had kissed girls in greeting before naturally, but these girls kissed differently. Kind of took the breath away, and they squeezed right up against, you and put their arms around you. It was delightful to Pamela, most especially when nipple or nose-rings clinked together suddenly!

Strangely, even the many whip marks on the eight girls didn't seem to surprise or bother Pamela and Donna.

Chapter Three

Mrs. Marienne McNee June 6, 1972

46 Queen's Road

Hammersmith

W. 3, London

Dear Mrs.. McNee:

It is a practice of all the mistresses at Avondale to write on behalf of the inmates, since they are not allowed to do so. You will recall me from yesterday when I picked Pamela up at your residence. and I am the mistress of your daughter as well as of another young lady, Donna Carson.

I shall keep you regularly informed of your daughter's activities and punishments. As you must be aware, punishments are not given for being disobedient (girls aren't disobedient at Avondale) but they are given regularly and systematically for the good of the girls' proper and necessary training and correction. I am sure that you recognize that young ladies in England have received similar punishment and training for centuries, so your daughter will not endure anything that thousands of other young- ladies have not endured before. Additionally, you will find Pamela a very beautiful and exceptional young woman when she returns home in six months. There is no substitute for proper training and punishment to turn a troublesome girl into a fascinating young woman.

It has been the practice at Avondale, for several years now, to also have photos of the girls sent home, showing their various activities and punishments. The reason for this should be clear to you, as a mother, for in a way you too are responsible for Pamela's unlawful actions, and you should share in the knowledge of what we are doing to her for her misbehavior. The girls know that the photos are sent home.

In truth, your Pamela is a slave for six months, with all that the word entails. However, I'm sure that you know this, and that you still would choose six months of strict punishment to three years in a woman's prison for Pamela. It may well hearten you to know that girls of Pamela's young age are very wonderful and unusual creatures. Very soon Pamela will actually learn to enjoy and receive pleasure from being punished. You may find this hard to believe, not having been initiated into such things yourself, but it has been true since ancient

Babylonia and Persia. I myself have been an inmate at Avondale, and I know that it is most definitely true! Even now, on her second day, Pamela has already shown signs of accepting and enjoying what has been done to her so far.

I shall not go easy on Pamela, for it would be to her disadvantage. I shall not also go easy on you, and will be most explicit in my letters and photos.

In the enclosed packet are several photos taken yesterday and today. I shall explain them to you. I did not take photos of Pamela in the van on the trip to Avondale, but I will tell you that she was chained by her wrists to the interior roof for the entire three-hour journey, drawn up to her tiptoes.

Photo 01: Pamela and her roommate, Donna, strung up by their thumbs in their room upon their arrival. They hung for nearly three hours, and Pamela did not complain. As you can see, panties, garter belt, stockings and heels are all that the inmates are allowed to wear at Avondale each day.

It is a concession to modern times, since in the old days the girls were naked. However, for punishments and bondage and bed, Pamela will be naked most of the time.

Photo P2: This photo shows Pamela licking my pussy last night. I'm sure that you know that Pamela will become a delightful lesbian here, and whether you have had such experiences yourself I'm sure you realize that girls have made love to each other since the beginning of time, and always will. We strongly encourage such activity here, for we feel that it helps the girls to become total women, who can enjoy both male and female love in their future lives. Pamela will have sex with me, with Donna, and with the other girls constantly.

She may very well fall in love with Donna, for roommates usually do. I will not return Pamela's love until such time as I feel she has earned the right to be called a woman. As her mistress, she will lick my pussy at least once each day, as one of her normal duties. Pamela did very well on her first lovemaking, which this photo shows. She enjoyed it very much and was able to bring me to orgasm the very first time, so I feel t%at she will become an excellent little lesbian. By the way, roommates sleep together in a narrow bed to promote lovemak- ing between them.

Photo P3: This one shows Pamela with her rings, put in by our nurse. As you can see, she holds five rings which is not unusual down through history.

Your daughter has lovely pussy lips, well suited for rings as the photo shows. She also has fine, healthy nipples which have accepted the rings and locking pins very nicely. The nipples are pierced laterally by the rings and also are literally cored by the lengthwise locking pins, thus the inside of Pamela's nipples are really quite filled with metal. Do not concern yourself with this however. In the olden days at Avondale, girls wore rings nearly triple this size (without locking pins and in those days some of the girls were just thirteen with quite dainty little nipples. Pamela's nose septum pierced quite nicely (some have a harder time) and her nose-ring looks lovely. I might add that your daughter loves her rings, and has found them very sexual to her.

I will be writing again in a few days, with more photos. Pamela will get her first, hard whipping this afternoon in front of all the other girls. It is a custom here that girls are whipped only in front of other girls. The whipping becomes more significant to them and, of course, the other girls who watch receive much pleasure from the watching. I will do the whipping, and will do it very hard on Pamela.

Sincerely,

Jan Nelson

P..S. (On t;he back of the photo of Pamela licking me, I have had her write a line.)

Mrs. McNee turned the photo over and read its message: Mom, this is me sucking Jan's pussy. I think I'm going to love her. Isn't she beautiful! Put this photo up on your mirror, please…

Signed, Pamela

The whipping suite on the second floor had existed since the beginning of Avondale in the middle nineteenth century, and it was a pride of the institution. Since the first young lady had hung there awaiting the lashes, a thousand or more had taken her place down through the years. Unlike t.he cellars or dungeon-like whipping rooms of many early training schools, the original headmistresses of Avondale chose to associate whipping with warmth and loveliness for, if in truth a female's ultimate beauty lay in receiving the whip upon her body, the surroundings should relate an aura of love and concern for her. If to be whipped was in- deed pleasurable, and it was, why lessen those gratifications with damp walls in a dank cellar room? The suite had been maintained in it,s original dignity to t.his very day, and was without doubt the most significant reason t,hat young ladies left

Avondale firmly believing that whipping was their most precious virtue. Whipping became a beautiful experience which most of the graduates would continue all of their adult lives.

The room faced the lawns and gardens below with a large, long picture window which made the room one of light and beauty. How much better, as a girl received the whip, to look upon lovely trees and flowers, sunlight and sky, than to face only dingy stone walls. The floor had always been warmly carpeted to give it a feeling of femininity and homeliness, and in later years a cheery fireplace had been added. The suite indeed contained all possible to further enhance the beauty of whippings, and its goal had been achieved over and over again through the years. It is very possible that young ladies would also learn to love the whip in dungeons, for that is in the nature of being female.

But how much quicker and more delightfully pleasant it was to be whipped in such beauteous appointment,s!

In the olden days, nearly a century ago, a head- mistress had perceived the remarkable idea of furnishing the walls of the whipping suite with various items of feminine garments and punishment items, as well as two large oil paintings of females receiving punishment in ancient chambers of some long-forgotten era. The philosophy of such appointments was obvious. As a girl hung in her ropes, feeling the lashes upon her skin, she need only look about her at the walls which contained the inti- mate clothes taken from girls of years past before hanging in the exact same way and whipped in the same way. Or the punishment tools which had been placed on the walls between the items of wear, all of which had been used to hurt females, and still were.

had bound their wrists and elbows behind them very naturally and without fanfare. In a way, it meant more to her than to have a mistress do it for it clearly revealed that the girls themselves involved themselves in each other's training and punishments. It was a very sensual feeling to have another "slave" tie her, and she wondered whether she would enjoy tying another girl herself. She thought that she probably would. The girl, Tricia, who had tied her arms, kissed her on the lips when she had finished, as had Abby with Donna, It was obvious that it was a very sweet Avondale custom.

You tied a girl, then you kissed her in love and ' friendship. How very beautiful!

Earlier Jan had told Pamela and Donna about the whippings each slave received. Rarely were they given for misdeed. They were simply given by a mistress to one of her slaves when she felt like it, or when she felt that the girl required a whipping as a regular course of things. Whippings were like food or water. They were simply required every so often if the girl was to receive proper training. The problem was not in whipping a girl too often, but too infrequently. A girl was seldom whipped by her mistress in private for the pleasure of the whipping was much to nice to waste. Thus, usually, three or four of the other girls were brought to watch. In fact, it was considered a reward to be allowed to watch, deter-mined by behavior and classroom improvement! Pamela was surprised when told this.

Could watching another girl whipped be so attractive that girls tried to earn that reward? Indeed, it must be so.

Jan had rambled on about whippings, and had told Pamela and Donna that in a short time they would learn that a whip provided pleasure to a woman.

Thus the girl who looked upon these things felt not alone in her bondage, for all that she saw reminded her that hundreds upon hundreds of her earlier sisters received exactly what she was receiving, not only in this particular room but in whipping rooms all over the world in all periods of history. This knowledge gave her strength and pleasure to know that she was but carrying on the natural progression of whipped females, who since Eve revelled mysteriously in having marks etched into their bodies. No matter how the whip might burn, no matter how it might wring screams from her, she knew that she was indeed not alone, but only an insignificant girl among thousands before her. She represented the girls of the present generation, and it would not behoove her to fail them in the ghost eyes of all those before. If young girls of ages past learned to accept and love the whip here, she too would do so, with full dignity and complete pleasure.

The walls were quite filled with clothing relics of the past, from nineteenth century petticoats and camisoles to pantaloons and cotton stockings.

Each generation of clothing styles had been added, down through bras, full slips and silk stockings to current bikini panties, body suits and garter belts.

The punishment items, such as dozens of various whips, nipple screws and branding irons had not been particularly added to, for they could not be improved upon by time.

Late in the afternoon, following their ringing, Pamela and Donna were taken to the whipping suite by two of the other girls, Tricia and Abby.

Pamela had thought it quite sweet that two of their sisters had come for them rather than Jan, and found it rather exciting that Tricia and Abby female in three ways, all very sexual indeed. First they would begin to be aroused by being whipped, especially in front of other girls. Then they would begin to be aroused by watching another girl whipped Finally they would become aroused by being given the privilege of whipping another girl themselves! It was the three virtues of being female, and it was the three traits each female possessed. Masochism, voyeurism, sadism. All lay within a female, and had only to be brought out!

It had been a happy custom for decades at Avondale for a new girl to be whipped in front of all.the other girls. For the girls who had been at, the school for several months it was, of course, an exciting occasion. They had learned by now how each other reacted under the whip, for they had seen each other lashed many times. It was always exciting to still see each other whipped, but a new girl was terribly arousing, especially if it was t,he first whipping of her life. The first whipping of a girl was very similar to rape in that it was her first violation of that nature, and thus very arousing sexually to watch.

Abby and Tricia had brought Pamela and Donna to the suite where the others had already gathered, and the two newcomers were most impressed with the beauty of the room. The whip would hurt the same anywhere, but how much more pleasant to at least have it done in warm, attractive surroundings. The room contained ceiling chains and cuffs where a girl could be suspended by her wrists or thumbs for a full whipping on back, bottom and breasts. It also contained a framework device especially designed for whipping females on their bottoms. It was a slanted benchlike structure with four legs to which the wrists and ankles of a girl were bound. The bench slanted upwards towards the rear so that a girl's hips and bottom were upraised delightfully.

Jan did not tie Pamela to the frame. It was done by Tricia and Abby, again to impress Pamela with the fact that the girls became happily involved with each other's punishments. Tricia handed the whip to Jan in fact, and joined the other girls seated around the floor.

The cane, a longtime customary tool of girls' schools, had not been used since the war years, being replaced by pliable single-thonged whips for lashing all of a girl, and a five-thonged "cat" for specific whipping on the buttocks. It was the cat which Tricia had handed to Jan, for it was the customary item used in the initial whipping of a new girl.

"You will receive twenty lashes, slave," said Jan very calmly, admiring the way Pamela's whit.e panties fit her bottom like a second skin.

The first lash resounded off t,he walls with a sharp cracking retort, and Pamela jerked in her ropes. The stroke had burned like fire to Pamela. A new girl always thought about her first whipping, and about how it, would feel. She had no idea.

Would it be unbearable? Would I cry? Would I scream? Pamela's first sound was not a scream at all. It was, in fact, more like a hiss, produced not so much from the hurt, but from the utter shock and surprise of how very much it did hurt. The second Iash also produced a hiss.

Jan did not hurry the whipping, being well versed in such matters. Each lash should be well separated from the next, so that it became an individual punishment all in itself. The lashes now produced a variety of gasps and moans from Pamela partly from the hurt, partly from the utter humiliation of having her bottom whipped in front of other young girls. It was the latter, rather than the hurt, which produced in Pamela at least the slightest beginning of a sexual awareness. She could feel the moistness begin, and, despite her pain, began to understand the unique and mysterious puzzle which the whip brought to a girl. The whip hurt very much, there was no denying that. But at the same time it produced an arousal in a girl to offset the hurt. In a sense, it was punishment and reward at once. Even a whipping produced some pleasures, and as a girl continued to be whipped over time, the arousal became stronger and the hurt weaker, until finally a whipping became a thing of pure pleasure and the discomfort of the hurt became insignificant. It had been so since the first female in history had been whipped. But it took time, and the first whipping was more hurt, than pleasure, as Pamela realized!

Pamela knew very well t,hat if Jan had whipped her privately she might very well be thrashing upon the frame and screaming to high heavens.

But somehow being whipped in front of the other girls gave her a resolve to receive it with dignity.

After all, a girl did have pride, and she did not wish her peers to think her a crybaby. A girl thus took a whipping much better in front of her sisters. This fact had been observed down through all the centuries, in all lands, and therefore females were usually whipped in front of others. It was indeed the reason why girls at Avondale were not whipped alone in a room. That, and of course, because of the pleasure it brought to the girls who watched

Pamela tried not to scream, but soon realized that it was impossible not to do so. For a brief moment she felt ashamed to cry out, then just as quickly realized that certainly girls did scream when whipped. Even those here in the room who had been whipped for months or a year. On this point, Pamela was exactly right, for a girl was foolish to try and remain silent under the whip. Crying out helped considerably, and as Pamela would find later, a girl's cries and moans and screams were very arousing to those who watched. When she learned to love the whip, and to care for her sisters, she would actually cry out, much more than even necessary to please them and arouse them. It was a matter of Avondale girls loving each other so much that they tried to scream and moan beyond normalcy, simply to turn the other girls on with sadistic pleasure. But this philosophy would come later as Pamela became experienced. It would be the ultimate act of sacrifice and love that a girl could do for others, to actually desire to be hurl to provide pleasure to other girls! When this point was reached, a girl became a total and perfect woman.

By the end of the first dozen, Pamela's panties were beginning to shred from the five thick leather thongs, and she could feel the welts rising. The hurt was not getting any better, but, on the other hand, it was not getting particularly worse either.

It has been said that there is a point in whipping a female beyond which she can accept unlimited

punishment, for she has reached a point, of hurting which no longer can be intensified. Thus at public floggings in ancient Rome or medieval Europe a woman would scream and writhe during the first fifty lashes, but then hang quietly while her whipping went on and on. In most cases, at this point, her punishment would end for it was no longer having the desired effect upon her. Pamela was certainly not near this point, but her ability to accept the continuing lashes seemed to improve.

The twentieth lash was delivered by Jan and brought the expected moan from her slave. Pieces of Pamela's pants were scattered about the carpet and she was glistening wet down-her back and on her forehead. It had been a good whipping and Jan was pleased with her effort, as well as nicely aroused by her Pamela. Some girls were more ex- citing to whip than others and Jan could see that Pamela would provide her with much pleasure in the future..

"We have a cute custom here with new slaves," said Jan. "You have taken twenty, and it is all that is required at your first whipping. However, you may elect to take more. It is rather a tradition for a first-time girl to have her panties whipped off.

That is why you were allowed to wear them for this whipping. It will take about fifteen more lashes to strip you completely. This is not required however, and if you have had enough then I will stop right now, and hold no claim against you, nor think less of you. The choice is yours, but you must instruct me, slave Pamela."

Pamela shook her head and her auburn hair whisked across her shoulders. She could take no more. Perhaps after weeks of experience, but not on her first whipping. Tears filled her eyes from the emotional position she had been put into. She glanced at some of the girls seated on the floor in front of her, trying to find the answer, but they purposely looked away. The choice had to be hers.

It was a judgment of some importance, obviously.

A repeat of what she had just taken would be unbearable… far too much for her first time. Yet, should she request no further punishment, what would the girls think of her? How many of them had asked for more? All of them? None of them? If most or all of them had, would they think her a baby and not share their love with her? More of the terrible hurt, or the love and respect, of her peers?

"Mistress Jan, please whip my panties off!" she said clearly. The decision had been made, now she must pay for it. Yet, as she looked at the girls, she saw that they had all turned their faces towards her, and there were looks of love and admiration upon them. Two or three blew little kisses to Pamela, including Donna. Pamela swelled with pride. The decision had been right!

The first searing lash made Pamela snap her head back, and the second made her yelp like an animal. Jan was whipping her much harder than before. Despite the agony of the whip, Pamela nearly smiled in a remembrance that she had nearly decided that morning to wear her tiniest bikini panties, but instead had put on a normal pair. How much quicker the job could have been done if she had worn the little pants!

It was then that Pamela began to learn about girls, and the unique creatures that they are. For as Jan's cat stripped the nylon shreds from her tortured bottom, the other girls began to vocally en- courage Jan, and cheer as each piece of panty flew into the air.

"Whip her harder, mistress Jan!"

"Righ to, make her scream!"

"Let's see her bawl like a baby!"

"How's it feel to lose your pants, baby?"

Pamela nearly wept. Had she misjudged these girls? Were they nothing more than little sadists?

How could they ask Jan to whip her harder? Pamela would find the answers to these questions sooner than she thought.

Pamela had no idea of how many more lashes she took, as she lay against the frame in a semi-stupor of hurt and confusion. She was aware of cheering after an eternity, and of the other girls untying her, and kissing her ears and lips. Several put their arms around her and helped her to walk. She looked down and saw that her panties were gone entirely.

Despite her hurt, and despite the stunning things the girls had said to encourage her whipping to a greater level, she knew that, the girls did love her now. They talked t,o her, and hugged her, and kissed her, as they. led her to a clear spot on the floor.

Lisa, a pert and pretty blonde, put Pamela on her belly upon the carpet.

"Good girl, Pam! We all love you, y'know. We think you're smashing. You'll soon find why we urged Jan on. Now, just lie there, propped up on your elbows hon, and Ginny and I will rub some body salve on your poor ass… makes it feel lots better… you'll love us for it. I know! You just lie there and enjoy Donna's turn and we'll take care of that pretty little bottom of yours;"

Pamela's eyes moistened from the cool feel of the lotion on her welted bottom, She had never felt such love and caring from other girls. Their very soft hands were like those of angels, ministering to her wounds. It wasn't really the soothing effect of the salve that made her nearly purr in relief, but it. was the feel of those loving and tender hands upon her flesh. At that moment Pamela began to know girls and their funny ways. They had cheered her whipping, yet now tended to her with love and kindness. In that moment Pamela began to know that she was in love with the female gender forever more, and that she would always love girls… in every way possible.

Pamela's mind was nearly dizzy from trying to absorb all of the new feelings and emotions that she had experienced during the last twenty-four hours. She had felt more, and learned more, about herself, and girls, in one day than she had in her entire life. And for the most part, these new emotions and sexual responses were very, very pleasant indeed! She never had had a desire for girls.

Until now. And it was very strong. She was virgin to rope and whip before yesterday, yet now she felt their impact upon her emotions, and she liked what she felt.

As Pamela lay upon the floor, her chin propped up in her hands, the full realization finally came to her that she had been whipped! She had been whipped like thousands before her, and she felt proud and glad to be called female. Now that it was over, her feelings became sensual to know that she had indeed been whipped. Not like a schoolchild… but like a woman. Pamela suddenly gasped as she felt a surge of wetness between her legs, brought on partially by the thought of her whipping, and partly by the feel of those beautiful hands soothing her inflamed bottom cheeks. One of the girls behind her had lovingly used a handkerchief to wipe Pamela's wetness away so as to not go onto the carpet. Pamela turned her head to see which girl had been so thoughtful and tender to think of doing such a thing. Abby winked at her. Was there no limit as to what these girls would do for each other? thought Pamela. If not, then why should I care if they do get kicks out of seeing me whipped!

They're worth it… all of them!

Pamela was not surprised when yet another new pleasure came to her. Nothing she felt or did would surprise her now. The new pleasure, of course, was watching Jan's cat burning its way across Donna's bottom in front of her. The pleasure was immense, now that her whipping was over, There was nothing to do but enjoy what she saw, now that she was on the outside looking in. Pamela felt her arousal growing again. She felt almost like a harem girl in an erotic scenario! Imagine, she thought, lying here watching a girl being whipped while two others used lotion on my own bottom. Such things were only possible in books… and at Avondale!

Suddenly she did not feel guilty or ashamed to realize that she was very much,enjoying seeing a girl being whipped. And she was enjoying Donna's moans and cries of hurt too! The honesty here was totally pure, she realized. If girls were whipped here at Avondale, and they were, then why not enjoy it?

It would be so much more fun than trying to pretend that it wasn't exciting! A girl being whipped knew that it was arousing to others, and it made her feel good to at least realize that her suffering brought joy to her sister slaves. What a fantastic and beautiful philosophy! A girl could please an- other not only with tongue, but with supplying her body to the whip so that the other could become aroused! What a unique and magnificent love girls must have for each other! These unbelievably stunning thoughts were now entering Pamela's mind.

Imagine loving a girl so much that another would ask her if she would like to be given pleasure by mouth, or in watching her hurt and whipped for her personal pleasure!

Pamela never dreamed that she had sadistic- voyeur tendencies within her. Most do not realize it, but they are there. And the lashes upon Donna were pleasing to her, very, very much. She liked Donna's cries of hurt" and she liked the sight of the red-purple welts. She liked the sight of her room- mate's blue panties flying apart under Jan's strokes. She liked those hands ceaselessly rubbing her bottom behind her, She purred when Donna chose the "extra" whipping as she had done. And above all, she found herself yelling, along with the others, for Jan to whip Donna harder! She knew now why the girls did such things. It was an animal-like, but totally honest, desire to see girls hurt as much as possible! It was pure sadism, but magnificently exciting! It was indeed, another form of sex!

Only a few last blue threads remained on Donna's bottom when Tricia's fingers slipped into Pamela's sex. As the whip slashed at Donna, Tricia's fingers moved within Pamela. It was beyond imagination, and far more than a girl could expect to endure!

Pamela screamed in a violent climax, the intensity of which she hadn't thought possible.

Chapter Four

Mrs. McNee received a short letter, with photos, a few days later. Jan had promised to keep her informed, and she was keeping her word.

The idea of sending letters and photos to the inmates' mothers was, of course, designed to mothers, over the years, had rebelled against such descriptive photos, and had been shocked and stunned at the punishments meted out in such modern times. Many had come close to reporting the situation at Avondale to authorities, but at the last minute thought better of the idea. It was a matter of a few months at Avondale as against several years of incarceration elsewhere, and so the situation was allowed to continue. Had any mother actually reported Avondale's activities, she would have a hard time receiving cooperation from the daughter to verify the facts. The mothers simply did not understand girls and their unique pleasures and desires, so changed had society become since the olden days when mothers were thrilled to send their daughters to such schools. Yet, girls remained the same as ever, and knew better than the adults that punishment was the ultimate teacher, and the ultimate pleasure.

Mrs. McNee, however, had not had thoughts about Pamela's activities in a negative sense.' She herself had never been to a girls' training school, nor involved herself in lesbian love. But over the years she had had fantasies about such things, encouraged by many under-the-counter novels she had bought in Soho, and hidden in her closet.

Indeed, the photos Jan had sent her were placed in her mirror corners. One of Pamela and Donna hung by their thumbs; one of Pamela wearing her rings; and one of Pamela making love to Jan. Mrs.McNee looked at the photos each night, and often emitted a wistful sigh. She was, in fact, slightly envious that she had not been admitted to such things in her life, but in a secret way she was proud that Pamela was receiving them for she knew, somehow, that Pamela would be a much better young lady for them, The photos just received were of Pamela's whipping, in a series of six, and they made Mrs. McNee flinch when she saw them. Yet of her mirror with them. She looked longingly most of all at the one of Pamela's tongue in Jan's sex, and wished that she were young once again.

At Avondale, two weeks had passed and Pamela was acclimating nicely to her new life. She had been whipped three times more on the frame, and was becoming slightly convinced that a girl's bottom was the only place the whip was applied.

Jan had told her, however, that the whippings would soon change. The whippings became the highlight of the days, and every evening t,he whip- ping suite. was used. Pamela was pleased that on some of these occasions she had been chosen to watch a girl whipped, and it was no longer deniable that such occasions were sexually pleasant to her.

She became wet very easily from the sounds the whip made upon a girl's bottom, and the resultant moan or yowl. On two or three occasions, she had been chosen, along with another girl, to tie and bring a girl to the suite. This pleasure was most exciting as well, she had found quickly. To stand behind a girl and pull the rope tightly into her wrist flesh, or to draw her elbows delightfully together, produced tingly sensations in Pamela.

She liked the soft smell of a girl's hair or perfume, when binding her. She liked the Iittle gasps a girl made when the ropes were pulled especially tight, and most of all she liked the way a girl's breasts thrust out when the elbows were drawn together.

The rings were wonderful to Pamela. Nothing seemed to thrill her more than the feel of them in her body, and she began to doubt whether she would ever want.to be without them again. The nipple and pussy rings.weighed just enough to keep her constantly aware of those intimate feminine parts, and the nose ring touched the top of her lips just enough to keep her pleasantly reminded that she was a slave girl. The rings, in fact, were loved by all the girls and became items of great pride. They often belittled the older girls of Avon- dale who wore just nipple-rings without locking pins. Such babies they must have been not to have the pins put down into their nipples as well as rings through them! This was indeed the only way to ring nipples. Make a girl know she has nipples!

It was not only Pamela's own rings that were exciting, but of course it was in watching a fluff walk by with her rings dancing and bouncing so nicely. Some of the girls knew how t.o walk to make their breasts bounce sensually, and all of the girls had trimmed their pubic hair short to show off the rings there.

Being a slave was terribly exciting, for nothing so aroused a female as such a condition. Especially girls Pamela's age. Even such servitude as kneeling before Jan, or hand-washing her panties and blouses, made Pamela all tingly. To wash another female's underthings was quite exciting. For men, slavery was something to escape from, but for females… slavery was lovely, whether serving a master or mistress.

There was probably no other submission so erotic in history than for a slave girl to he led along on a lead attached to nose, nipple, or pussy rings, with her hands bound behind her. Such things had been done since ancient Persia, and still in 1972 it was the ultimate bondage for a female. It became even more erotic when the person on the other side of the lead was another female whose body was free of rings and bonds, for to have a female pull another along by her sexual parts was the utter apex of female-female relationship. A male at the lead could not begin to understand a female's emotions when led by her rings, but another female could and did understand them and thus it was, in a sense, the ultimate humiliation. Such was the case when Cassandra of Persia was captured by Mongol hordes in the first century. Nipple-rings had been thrust through her in public and Ghinta, the young Mongol princess, had personally put chains upon the rings and led Cassandra through the villages of her own homeland.

Pamela enjoyed having Jan lead her about the grounds and halls of Avondale on a leash to her rings. For men, humiliation is a tragedy. For women, it is sexually stimulating, and Pamela found it to be so. The five mistresses of Avondale took one or both of their slaves with them wherever they went about the school. It Was just simply the thing to do during the day, and it produced pleasant emotions in both mistresses and slaves.

Sometimes Jan attached her leads to Pamela's nipples, other times to the nose, or still other times to one or both pussy rings. Occasionally she used various combinations, such as one lead to a nipple, another to a pussy ring, and these variations aroused Pamela greatly. Best of all were the times that Jan took both Pamela and Donna together for a walk, for the two roommates were beginning to fall very much in love, and they thrilled to be led along by identical leads. Somehow a girl liked to share the same thing another did, and Pamela and

Donna loved to see leads attached to each other's identical body parts. Jan was very much aware of the increasing love between them and on one particularly delightful occasion in the garden, let, them have a turn leading each other about by nipple-rings. The result was two very wet young ladies!

How very much Pamela enjoyed the "costume"

Avondale girls wore. Stockings and garter belts, and heels, and panties. How lovely! Even the plainest of girls would look sultry in such items, which of. course was the purpose of Avondale's dress requirements! And how pretty that all girls were bare-breasted, thought Pamela. How utterly natural it was, like the jungle girls and girls of the islands. Such lovely things as breasts should always be shown!

Avondale reeked of femininity and female sexual desire for one another. How could it be otherwise with the wearing of such attractive intimate items? How could it be otherwise when girls watched each other whipped nude? How could it be otherwise when girls were made even prettier by five rings? How could it be otherwise when girls had their arms and hands tied behind them to show off t,heir lovely bodies'! How could it be otherwise when the girls were allowed to bind each other?

For Pamela and Donna, boys had ceased to exist.

Their whole world was a world of delicious young female bodies to play with love, It was a world where each day something observed or felt would suddenly cause wet panties. At first Pamela felt self-conscious of wet pants, and would change, but soon she realized that it was a bother. Besides, she saw that other girls didn't change. It was natural, and happened often, so why bother? Her desire for girls increased each day, and she regretted that she had waited until the ripe old age of seventeen to find lesbian love! Now that she had found it, she would never let go!

Pamela and Donna made love each night. It was no longer just a physical thing between them, but had become deeper and more emotional. Love was made on a higher plane, with much beautiful talking and words of care and dedication in bed. They definitely were falling in love. They were not possessive however, and several times a week slept with other girls as was customary at Avondale.

Within three weeks Pamela and Donna had slept with each of the other girls, and agreed with the other eight that bed-partners should be changed nearly every night despite certain couples being in love. It was a.beautiful and unselfish code.

Most of the girls naturally loved their mistresses too, but the physical love at least. was purposely not, returned by the mistresses until a possible future time when a mistress did indeed love her slave enough to return her tongue. This possible condition had to be earned, however. For mis- tresses to return the loving of a slave before such time would be wrong and would result in emotional conflict. The girls all knew this, and did not expect a mistress to return her love. Her love would be measured in her punishments,and it would be enough for her slaves to desire her.

Sabrina, the beautiful nurse, was desired by all of the girls, and no one denied it. She, in fact, often became the subject of girl talk in bed. Every slave wanted to get in her pants without exception. It was not that Sabrina was more beautiful than the mistresses, although she was quite gorgeous. It was just that she was such a total woman. She was married and had children, unlike any of the mis- tresses, yet she was openly lesbian as well and not one bit ashamed of it. She was not trying to hide anything; Girls were to play with and she knew it.

She didn't come on heavy in the lab or medical room, but just simply and naturally fondled a girl's breasts when they happened to be available, and on occasion had kissed a girl on the mouth, and once in a while ate a girl if in the mood. She demanded no return love, for she was not a mistress, but any girl would have given her right arm to bed with her. She just simply lived in a girls' world at

Avondale and acted accordingly. At night she was a dedicated wife and mother,

Sabrina dressed excitingly, because she made no obvious at,tempt to do so! She wore her mini- uniform beautifully and naturally, which exposed all of her long legs. She neither made a production out of the little skirt nor tried to let it show more than it should. She knew that it allowed her panties to be seen when she walked or sat but she simply didn't worry about it, and didn't concern herself with selecting white pants to wear under the white nurses skirt as most nurses would. She wore pink or yellow or whatever panties came out of the drawer in the morning. This attitude of neither trying to conceal her feminine sexuality nor exhibiting it purposely was terribly attractive to the younger girls, and they desired her greatly.

They had also heard that Sabrina often was permitted to try experiments and tortures on the girls in her lab. Somehow, this only seemed to make her even more attractive!

Even though Pamela and Donna loved each other deeply, they often played silly girl games in bed, pretending that each other was Sabrina, and calling each other by that name. But then, young girls were allowed such liberties.

Pamela and Donna splashed happily in the shower making girl-talk and squealing when the slippery bar of soap squirted to the floor on occasion.

"I just love being a slave, Pam," said Donna.

"It's so… sexy!"

"It is rather fun," answered Pamela. "Makes a girl feel all tingly it does. Sometimes when Jan leads us around on our leads I pretend it'-s ancient

Rome or something. Must have been great in those days for a girl! Too bad slavery isn't allowed today."

"You silly bird," laughed Donna, "There is slavery today. What do you think it's all about here at Avondale?"

"Well, hon, I mean real honest to goodness slavery… y'know, where girls are sold 'n' everything!"'

"Might have a surprise for you, angel face. Know what Maryl. told me? She says that Ravan has a file in her office of women in England who will pay to have a slave girl, either for summers on school vacation or full time! Most of 'em are graduates of Avondale themselves. Maryl says that when we leave here Ravan talks t,o us about all this, shows us the names, photos and stuff and lets us decide.

Good money, I gather. 'Course it's a matter of talking your mothers into it."

"Cor! Wouldn't that be smashing! Imagine spending summers at some nobby mansion in the country as a real slave… and earning money, too!

I'd pick a pretty woman, I would. We'll have to really do some talking with our moms, though."

"Know what else Maryl told me, Pam? Says we get branded before we leave here."

"Well, I knew that. Kathy told me that last week. So?"

"Right on both tits!"

"Cor, Well, I've read history books about slaves, and I guess that's where girls are branded. Seems logical to me."

Donna laughed. "You really are something, hon!

That's why I love you!"

After a brisk toweling of each other, Pamela and

Donna sat on their bed to put the rings back into each other's bodies. You simply didn't wear your rings in t.he shower. Pamela never ceased to be intrigued with the intricate nipple rings, and enjoyed putting them in Donna. With the rings out, as they were now, the nipples looked quite unusual. The clean open hole at their base was interesting, and the sensual hole down through their length for the locking pins left precious little of the nipples remaining. The nips looked like little hollow straws.

Pamela inserted the rings, centering their openings, and put the locking pins through until she heard them click into the rings. She pushed Donna gently back upon the bed and nibbled a nipple. She was constantly amazed about girls' nipples, for even though nearly stuffed with rings and locking pins, they still erected beautifully to a girl's mouth! It felt rather odd to suck Donna's, for instead of the soft normal feel, Pamela felt the hard locking pin within them. Well, at least it prevented one from biting a nipple, they had reminded each other jokingly several times!

What probably would have been a lovely romp in bed was interrupted by the entrance of Jan. Their mistress wore only a brief red bikini panty, much to the delight of the embraced girls on the bed, but it was what Jan was carrying that grabbed their attention at once. In one hand was an old-time whipping cane and in the other was a strap-on dildo.

Pamela and Donna squealed like children opening presents on Christmas, and came bouncing off the bed. They knew that there were such sex toys, but had never seen one. Its intended use was obvious and it brought the tingly feeling back, for although they were totally girl-oriented now they were definitely not off of boys… or at least boys' phalluses, either real or substitute!

Jan stripped off her panties and flung them across the room before sprawling on the bed.

"Eating time, slaves! Pussy dessert for you."

"Yes, mistress," said Donna, "we're hungry anyway. Might just gobble you up tonight!"

The girls had already planned their action. It was an idea they had discussed for a day or two, and there was no time like the present to try it out.

Both fell between Jan's spread legs and their twin tongues began an eager licking simultaneously.

Jan gasped. "Super! Never thought of that bit of action! Mmmmmm… I like it, I like it. Do it! Do it! Oooh, good slave girls!"

Pamela and Donna were most pleased with Jan's compliments. Mistresses didn't make any, if at all.

They flushed with pride that they had elicited her praise, and attacked her sex with wild abandon. It was fun, they discovered. Besides, they could play tongue games with each other at the same time, inside of Jan, and steal a quick kiss or two. Jan's wetness became pronounced and it was delightful to taste her cream on each other's mouth when they kissed. Jan arched and moaned in orgasm, nearly drowning the girls with her liquid.

Jan's hands were all tangled up in the hair of

Pamela and Donna, but naturally they hadn't minded. It was always a sign that a girl was enjoy- ing it when she put her hands in your hair.

"Know what I'm going to do with this?" asked Jan.

"Quite obviously you're gonna fuck us," said Pamela happily.

"Ever been fucked by a girl, slave?"

"No. But we wanna be," said Donna.

"Well, you're going to have to earn it," promised Jan.

"Yes, mistress. Anything you say," said Pamela.

Jan whisked the cane through the air, and the girls gasped at its sound.

"We still keep one of these old canes around here," said Jan. "Used to use 'em all the time on girls in the old days, even before the turn of the century. You'll each take three strokes from me, and one from each other, bending over and holding your ankles. If you let go your ankles, you don't get a fucking."

"Crikey," said Pamela. "Thing looks like it cuts a girl in half. Geez!"

"Stop bitching, fluff," said Jan. "Girls in the olden times used to get a dozen or more cuts, even in public schools. And I'm not talking about seven- teen-year-olds like you either. I'm talking about little moppets. Now let's see that butt, slave Pamela!"

Pamela bent over and grabbed her ankles, immediately feeling terribly vulnerable to the cane. The cane swished and made a loud "thwacking" sound when it reached Pamela's flesh. Her hair swished upwards and her lips peeled back baring her teeth, before a gurgled cry came out. Her bottom felt on fire. It took every bit of resolve to not lose her position when the second cut came, and the third cut made her do something she'd never done before. Swear terribly. Jan handed the cane to 'Donna.

"If you go easy on, your lover-girl, you get double."

Donna's stroke brought tears to Pamela's eyes for it had been harder than Jan's. She stood up and explored her bottom with her fingers.

"Cor, that thing hurts! Geez, look at those welts whip isn't hear as bad!" whined Pamela.

"Okay, Donna girl, your turn."

Like Pamela, Donna found this new whipping very different. It wasn't just the awful hurt of a cane. It was being whipped untied, and forced not to move. It was against a girl's nature to take it unbound. It was so much easier to be tied helplessly… but just to accept it took every bit of a girl's willpower. Donna did well, however, and did not break her stance for the three. Every girl's whipping reaction was different, like fingerprints.

Pamela moved her hips when the cane struck her.

Donna lifted her right leg. It had been rather cute.

Pamela accepted the cane, measured her distance, and sent it slashing across her loved one's rear. Before this stroke, Donna had only gasped, but Pamela's stroke was a bit much,

"Owwwwww, my ass!" she howled;

Pamela laughed. "Thought I could get some- thing out of you, darling."." Just you wait,". promised Donna. Bat she had smiled and kissed the tip of Pamela's nose.

Jan had strapped on the dildo meanwhile. and the two threw themselves happily on the bed. They lay open-legged, side by side, like two baby birds waiting to be, fed. Pamela's brown hair was short and somewhat curly, while Donna's pubic fur was black and silky. Made a nice contrast. Jan took hold of Pamela's pussy rings and pulled her entrance apart nicely, before guiding the phallus in with her hips. Pamela threw back her head in plea- sure. It had been some time since she had had a "boy."

Jan alternated back and forth between Pamela and Donna, giving each about a two-minute turn per time. Both were delightfully wet, and things did become quite messy. Pamela and Donna held hands, and squeezed when they climaxed.

"This isn't all for fun, y'know," panted Jan. She had worked very hard in her thrustings, like a boy would, and was perspiring. "In a couple of weeks you're gonna begin fucking boys on Saturdays.

Boys' school up the way, I'll make some good change off you two cunts. Custom here, you know.

Part of your training and punishment. So… got to keep you two slaves opened up a bit. Been awhile since you got laid, I imagine."

The girls were not surprised. Ravan had told them to expect such activity on their first day, and they had often discussed it. Better than that, they had accepted it as proper punishment for young ladies. If girls were bad, they should be made to screw, they had said. Yet, now that Jan had said it, it made them have the old tingly feeling again, for it just wasn't making it with boys, it was prostituting themselves to make money for their mis- tress! The girls knew of the pimps in Piccadilly and of the street girls who worked for them, but their own situation would be quite different. They would whore for another girl — Jan! Yet both knew that indeed that's what slave girls were for. To obey their mistress and do anything for her. If indeed they were to go on into slavery-hire after Avondale there could be nothing that they wouldn't do.

Jan had ordered the girls over on all fours. Vaseline wasn't necessary since the dildo was quite wet from the girls themselves. Pamela closed her eyes as Jan moved her loins forward, forcing the phallus into Pamela's anus. Nothing was said. All three females on the bed knew that females were taken in that manner, and had been since Adam and Eve.

Pamela was quite tight, and Jan slapped her bot- tom with a message from one girl to another. Pamela understood; and spread her thighs wider apart in a time-honored reaction to forceful entering of the rear orifice. Pamela's move helped, and Jan felt her shaft enter more easily. When she felt her own pubic hair touch Pamela's flesh she knew it was fully within the girl. She gave Pamela a good scene which brought forth some wild squeals, and withdrew only when the girl had simply collapsed on her stomach, flat out, in orgasm. Donna was just as much fun.

The two were exhausted, satiated and satisfied, and slept for an hour before awakening. The weals on their bottoms had long since been forgotten.

"Hey, look what Jan forgot," said Pamela, spying the dildo on the dresser.

"Silly loon," laughed Donna, "she didn't forget it! She never makes a mistake. Left it with us on purpose. It's ours! Heard her say so before she left.

You were out like a light, you were. Think with our boy-fun coming up she's left us a message?"

"Yep! Get in practice!"

"You want to go over and get it, darling, or want me to?"

"I love you very much."

"I know."

It was very true. Pamela and Donna were falling very much in love. Not just for sexual reasons, but for real and meaningful reasons. Pamela had never been really in love with a boy before, but she knew that she would fall someday and she always thought about just who it would be. It had never dawned on her that it would be, in fact, another girl! Their love came as no sudden surprise, for love just doesn't work that way. It came slowly but steadily, and they were very much aware of its progress. They did not know, of course, the century of past loves at Avondale, and at other girls' training schools. If they had, they would have known that it was very common and very natural for girls to fall in love under such circumstances. It wasn't the sleeping together and the shared sex. Most girls have lesbian flings with others. No, it was not that. It was instead the sharing of punishments, degradations and slavery used to change their lives. When two girls live together and share together under the whip and the chain, the emotional tie between them becomes very intense.

Boys do not share this unique situation, even if they too would share such bondage. But girls, and women too, are instilled with a mysterious sister- hood which is fully brought forth by the sharing of punishment. No one has tried to explain this phenomenon, and of course, it really isn't necessary to do so It is just accepted, like the ocean and the sky, and it holds true now as it did in the days of prehistoric society,

It is recorded accurately that when Joan of Arc was held in the dungeon along with another girl, a total stranger such feeling took place. Joan had been flogged, then the other girl, and upon their release from the post, they had fallen into each other's arms and they had shamelessly kissed at length, unmindfull of the surprised jailers.

Thus it was, most of all, the sharing of the punishments which had brought Pamela and Donna to their present love for each other, just as it was for thousands of other female couples undergoing the rigors of training schools in the past. Girl room- mates, or cellmates as it may be, were totally different than boys. Because of the peculiarities of females due to their unique bodily functions and conditions, their intimate part,s suffering the same punishments, and their beautiful concern and caring for each other, they were totally unique. These things came about each day at Avondale among all the girls. One minute they urged the whipping of a loved one, the next they applied lotion to her with tender loving hands. Boys did not concern themselves with each other's hurts and wounds. Girls kissed, and rubbed, and licked each other's hurts away. Pamela and Donna had often used their tongues on each other's streaked bottom flesh after a whipping. What further act of love and caring was there than for a girl to actually lick another's whip stripes to ease the hurt? Like kittens with one another, In Arabian harems it was said that slave girls licked the whip stripes of another, even though she may be complete stranger. Females were endowed with a mysterious desire to care for one another, for men did not tend to their hurts. Is it any question then why females fell in love with one another?

Yet, along with this feeling for each other, females knew that they were created for punishment, and thus who could punish a female better than another female? In medieval times, females were hired and used to torture women and girls in

Inquisition chambers and castle dungeons, for they better knew how to hurt another girl, sharing the same bodily parts and emotions. In Roman times slave girls were often ordered t,o whip another of their sister slaves, and the resulting flogging was far more terrible than if given by the master. It was as if females had a secret agreement to respect each other's pride, and thus one should always punish another harder than a man would.

Or, possibly, it was because a female who had received punishment herself knew just how much another could and should accept.

Pamela and Donna had talked about many of these things in bed far into the nights, as their love grew for each other. One thing they definitely agreed upon. Girls had as much right to fall in love with each other as they did with a boy! Anyway, who made the rules that say a girl must fall in love with a boy? Why? Why do girls have to marry boys? Why can't a girl marry whom she pleases, be it male or female?

These questions were not unusual. They had been asked over and over by Avondale girls since the middle of the nineteenth century. They were recognized by a whole line of staff and head- mistresses as being honest and meaningful concerns. And since the beginning of Avondale, it, had been a custom to answer them in a most beautiful way. In the early days of the school, girls were permitted to be "engaged" to one another, and the

"engagement" was recognized and respected by all the other girls. In the olden days, "fiancees" could be challenged and the two girls who desired the same girl had to settle the question by bare-fist fights in front of all. The fights were bloody and brutal, but in their way, most beautiful because of what they represented.

In modern times, girls at Avondale who fell in love were permitted to be "married" by the head- mistress. It was not a legal thing, of course, but it was recognized by staff and girls alike. Many graduates of Avondale had remained "married" after leaving school, and continued to live together in London and other cities, going through life fully carrying out the marriage vows just as if it had been with a man.

Thus it was that Pamela and Donna had gone to Ravan's office one lovely afternoon and announced t.hat t,hey wished to be married. She had kissed them tenderly and hugged them, and they had a date for a week hence.

The ceremony, being held on a delightful July afternoon, was held in the rose garden. Avondale's grounds were well walled in, and outside glimpses just were not possible by passers-by. Nude or partially nude young ladies had been Ied on leashes, whipped and bound all about the lovely lawns and gardens for a century while carriages and automobiles had passed just outside the ivy-coated walls.

All of the girls and staff naturally attended the ceremony, with appropriate weepy eyes on the.occasion. Pamela and Donna looked simply ravishing as they stood on the lawn in front of Ravan.

Each wore bridal white panties, white garter belts, white stockings, and white heels. Their heads held lacy white veils with knee-length trains in back.

White delicate chains of exquisite workmanship were connected to each other's nose rings, one nipple-ring, and one vaginal-ring, symbolizing the uniting of each other's most intimate parts. Their faces were beautifully made up with eye shadow and rouge, and their nipples and aureolas had been dusted with rose-colored powder.

The ceremony was not long, containing nearly the same wordage as would have been given by a minister, and at the end the ultimate questions. were asked by Ravan.

"Do you, Pamela Jean McNee, take this girl to be your lawful wedded wife?"

Pamela looked in Donna's eyes. "I do."

"Do you, Donna Patricia Carson, take t;his girl to be your lawful wedded wife?"

"I do."

"You may kiss one another," said Ravan.

The veils were lifted and the two embraced.

Tears ran down some cheeks in the audience. There was yet another task, however, as customary at

Avondale. Long ago, a headmistress had determined that such a love, and such a marriage between two girls, was indeed very special. And because it was, the two newlyweds should prove their love for each other. The idea had been well received, and down through the years each married couple had desired to follow the meaningful custom. Pamela and Donna had been told what it was, and agreed heartily to its use.

The custom was sometimes performed indoors, sometimes outside, depending of course on the time of year and the weather, Today was excellent for the outdoors, and a large oak tree would be used.

All watched as Jan, who had stood beside her two slaves at their wedding ceremony, tied ropes around the hair of both of them after first removing their veils and shoes. The ropes were hoisted over a large branch and the girls were pulled upwards until they hung totally by their hair. Both gasped audibly, for it was a most discomforting bondage. Nothing else was tied. Their legs and arms were free, and they hung face to face in intimate closenes.

For a girl to be hung by her hair, with arms and legs unbound, might often produce some frantic kicking and arm flailing. Unless, like Pamela and Donna, the occasion called for dignity;y and love, and they remained still. The problem of what to do with the arms was very simple. They simply put, t,hem around each other!

Another mistress assisted Jan with the use of the cat, and the simultaneous lashes echoed throughout the garden. Pamela and Donna knew their requirements and their lips met and held, not to be released until the whipping of their bottoms was over. What could be more binding and meaningful than for two wedded girls to share a whip- ping together while kissing? The symbolism and dedication was magnificent! It was true love, and neither girl would dream of breaking the kiss no matter how much the eat hurt them, for they knew that each shared the exact same hurt in exactly the same way. They would not spoil or degrade their dedication to each other by breaking the kiss, or moaning.

As the lashes cracked across their firm young bottoms, the heat rose like fire, and streaks and welts soon appeared through the thin panties. The force of the cat naturally. caused each girl to hurl her hips and loins into the other upon each stroke, and in very short time, the thrusting together of vaginas produced a lovely wetness. The kiss was held, and tongues found each other and entwined.

Arms gripped each other harder. Each girl found that she could actually feel the force of the cat when it struck the other girl's buttocks. They also could feel the whip-induced heat in each other's thighs.

Neither girl emitted a sound of pain as they normally would in the whipping suite. Not a gasp, not a cry. Just the kiss unending. Yet, they could tell when the other had been hit. The tongue would flinch just a little, or the mouth would open in a silent cry, quickly returning to its task of kissing.

The dedication and love could not possibly be measured during these moments, nor described.

The human body wanted to cry out in hurt, but they did not do so, and would not do so. Each drew heavily on love from each other. It has been said that a girl can withstand ten times the punishment given her alone, if she shares it with another girl.

Especially one that she happens to he in love with.

It was only when the punishing cat began to tear off Pamela and Donna's pretty wedding panties that it became very, very hard to remain silent.

Now each made tiny soft gasps into each other's mouths, unheard by the onlookers, and when these gasps occurred each tried to comfort the other by squeezing her arms tighter around her. Pamela felt Donna's panties finally drop off to the ground, at least what was left of them, and her own quickly followed. It was over! And it was probably one of the most beautiful love scenes in history! But it was not unique. It had been acted out again and again, ever since the first two girls fell in love!

Everyone left and the two girls, very much in love, were left to hang by their hair. They would hang all night, and they would comfort one another and they would kiss and speak lovely things to each other. When the hurt became too much they knew ways to deal with it, too. They would say sex- al things to each other, and they would thrust against one another. And they would have orgasms together.

In the morning they would be released and allowed to spend a day and night together in their room, unviolated by anyone, including Jan. And their passion, intensified by the long night of abstinence from each other's tongues, would be beyond describing, for they had shared!

In the following weeks and months they would belong to each other totally, yet, such is the beautiful nature of females, they would not be possessive or jealous. They would bed with the other girls just as often, and with the same passion and love that they showed each other.

Mrs. Marienne McNee,July 22. 1972

46 Queen's Road

Hammersmith

W.3 London

Dear Mrs. McNee:

This letter won't be long, as I want to get back to

Pamela, but it has been some time since I wrote, and I do apologize. The enclosed photos should speak for themselves. You certainly- have a delicious daughter. There's times I could just eat her up, but that will come later, if and when she earns it! You will be pleased to learn t,hat Pamela and

Donna have gotten married. Only legal at Avon- dale, of course, but who knows, it may last. You and Mrs. Carson may want to get together and drink a toast, to your youngsters. In fact, I'd suggest it. after all, it is a singular event in their lives.

The first photo shows Pamela and Donna making love in their bed. This is called a "sixty-nine" position, and is quite common among today's modern girls. They suck each other at the same time.

Quite nice feeling. The second photo, taken by Donna, shows me using a strap-on dildo on Pamela. She took it very nicely, both vaginally and anally. The third shows Pamela's bottom after four strokes of a cane. We don't use canes anymore like the olden days, but we have this old one around, and occasionally we let the girls feel it just to let them know what youngsters took in the old school days. Very nice marks, aren't they? The fourth shot is a close-up of Pamela's face with her nose ring and lead. I think nose rings are so sexy. (She loves it.)

I thought you would love having an 8x10 of Pamela and Donna hanging by their hair together, as is customary after the wedding ceremony. I've also sent one to Mrs. Carson. Aren't they-precious in their white wedding things! They're so in love, just look how they have their arms around each other! We whipped their pants off, per tradition, but I thought you'd rather have the photo with everything intact before the whipping started. I think it's a truly gorgeous photo. I know you must be proud. We will be starting the second month of

Pamela's term soon, and her punishments will increase greatly, but of course she requires it. I'll write again soon.

Yours very truly,

Jan Nelson

Marienne McNee read the letter three times, and thumbed the photos over and over, The enlargement went on her mantel. For several weeks she had been fighting a strange emotion which she simply couldn't place, until a walk in a delightful soft rain one morning enabled her to put, things in perspective. In truth, she admitted, it was jealousy of her own daughter. Well, not jealousy maybe. Perhaps envy was a better word. At night Marienne had fantasized that she were young again, and in a school such as Avondale. Pam's face had looked so serene and happy in the photos! Marienne McNee had not felt a whip or loved a female, and she regretted it more and more, as Jan's letters arrived. There was no question that the photos and letters hod begun to arouse her. It all seemed so natural the way Jan had put things.

Yet, she was only a lovely thirty-eight. Certainly still an attractive woman whose passions were still stirred. Perhaps… sometime soon… it may not be too late. If only… just once… she could feel a whip. But she had shrugged it away. It was 1972.

She had taken Jan's advice and called Donna's mother after some trepidation. Perhaps Lila

Carson felt much differently about what her daughter was accepting at Avondale. Yet, when Marienne had called, Lila Carson had received her nicely, and admitted that the enlargement had also been put, in a place of prominence in her parlor.

Marienne was extremely pleased, and had been invited out to Shoreham for the day. The place was only a village, and the Carson home was a quaint assemblage of frame house, carriage barn, and gardens.

She had found.Lila Carson a delightful woman, perhaps just about the same age, and most attractive. Well, of course she would be, from what Marienne had seen of her daughter in the photos.

The two had kissed at the door, just a welcome kind of thing, but yet just a little longer than normal. It was most apparent what it had meant.

They had daughters sharing the same school, the same training, the same punishments, and the same bed! It was obvious that Marienne McNee and Lila Carson would share feelings that another pair of mothers would not.

They had sat on the settee for an hour complimenting each other on their daughters, the "marriage" and their own acceptance of Avondale.

Marienne had begged to see the photos of Donna which Jan had sent, and had brought her own of Pamela. Both found each other very honest, and very open, and admitted without shame that they both shared some new and mysterious emotions.

They talked about them at length.

It was the apricot brandy which made it easier.

"Do you really fantasize about being whipped,Marienne?"

"Well… honestly, yes. Sometimes," Marienne had replied. "Do you?"

"I… don't know. There have been times… but then I think about the pain."

"Pam and Donna are only seventeen, and take the whip nicely," said Marienne.

"Maybe, I'd like to try it, sometime. Just once, to know that I have been whipped," said Lila wistfully.

"Yes… just once," said Marienne. "1'd like to share what Pam feels."

"Perhaps… sometime… we could try…" said Lila.

"With each other?"

"Well, who else would we dare involve?"

"I'll phone," said Marienne. She thanked Lila for her hospitality and brandy.

Neither said much more until Marienne's hand was on the doorknob. Both knew that when the door was opened their little fantasy would not ever happen.

Marienne released the knob and came back into the room. She said nothing.

"There is the old carriage barn," said Lila, blushing. "I do believe that there is an old carriage whip in there somewhere. And some rope."

Marienne had not replied, but, took Lila's hand.

"Come," Lila whispered.

The moment that Marienne McNee had felt her hands tied high to a barn post, she experienced the remarkable sensation that thousands, perhaps mil- lions, of females down through the centuries had felt. It was really indescribable for anyone, except a female who had experienced it, to try and ex- plain. It was… the tingly feeling. It was the helplessnees, and above all… it was the thought of what was to come.

Lila had suggested that she bare herself to the waist, but Marienne's fantasy had oft been treasured. It might well be her only whipping, and it would be like she had once seen in a movie at the Odeon, exactly!

"Tie me, and tear my dress down the back like they did at public whippings," she had asked.

"Don't pamper me, Lila. Just tear it and whip me.Twenty times."

Lila had brought the brandy bottle and held some to Marienne's lips before taking a swallow herself. Her hand trembled.

Marienne's blouse ripped easily to her waist, and her wrists twisted in their ropes in emotional response. A thirty-eight-year-old female was not old in any way, and her body, although mature, still curved nicely and her skin was still smooth.

Probably nothing is lovelier than a female's bare back, and it was not lost on Lila Carson. In front,Marienne's breasts were full and ample with long nipples. Lila thought of many things at that moment, but most of all, and perhaps rather strangely considering the scene, that pretty Pamela had come from this delightful body.

She was about to ask, but decided better of it.

After all, why spoil things? Marienne was her prisoner in their game and why not play the role? So she didn't ask, but reached around Marienne and held her warm breasts. A soft gasp escaped Marienne, and she let her head fall back onto Lila's shoulder.

The carriage whip made a frightening crack, and left a long red streak across the top of Marienne's back. Her hands clenched. As the lashes fell, Marienne did not cry out, surprising both of them. But she did jerk and her head flailed. Lila could not see that Marienne was clenching her teeth.

Lila was unaware of the sudden change in herself that the scene was creating. She also did not realize that each lash she put across Marienne's back became harder than the one before. The play had been duplicated thousands of times by thousands of females and was unexplainable. Even the timidest female who might have been forced to whip another, found her excitement and sadistic femininity grow with each lash she applied. And also her dominance. Marienne soon found that her courage of silence was meaningless and foolish, and began to respond to the lashes with vocal in- tensity. Lila found her moans most arousing, and whipped harder.

Lila was truly not the same woman she had been a few moments ago. The change was noticeable and very exciting to her. She ripped Marienne's skirt to the floor. Marienne's white panties immediately made her look very much younger. The last seven lashes left weals across the still-lovely bottom cheeks. With trembling hands she untied Marienne, who fell to her knees on the dirt floor in obvious emotion. The whip marks were terrible upon her flesh, and tears welled in her eyes as she whispered to herself.

"Oh, Pamela. My darling daughter Pamela. It was wonderful to share with you. I envy you now that 1 know. Be whipped, my daughter, hard and often… for I know now that females were meant to be punished so."

Lila Carson had not heard Marienne's soft words. She stood at the post with her hands raised to be tied.

"But you have seen what the whip did to my skin, Lila," said Marienne. "You wish the same?"

"No. Not the same. Thirty Lashes."

Lila's dress tore with a rip. Marienne's first lash made her cry out. Marienne McNee did not go home that night. Nor the next. In the Bed, the two women loved, and Marienne and Lila both gasped their daughters' names at special moments, and thought of them in each other's arms. Perhaps at this very moment!

Chapter Five

The punishment and training of Avondale girls was not haphazard or come-as-you-may. It had been charted and planned and improved upon over the years through the experience of many lovely and wise headmistresses. It was a simple and undeniable fact that girls were wonderful at acclimating themselves to punishment if given time to adjust. It could be increased nicely, if patience and care were taken, to fantastic levels.

But time was needed for most girls, and rightly so, to learn to accept and expect increased training.

Ultimately, when a girl began to enjoy punishment she could be brought to any level, and anything could b6 done to her. The task was not all that difficult, fortunately, for girls possessed that unique and singular trait almost without exception. It was one of the surprising and delightful things in the world, among other things. Girls were made to be played with, whipped, hurt, and punished. Simply because they were girls.

Eventually any girl could be made to fully realize this. First was mere tolerance. Then acceptance.

Then an appetite for it. The stages came naturally, some girls faster than others. But eventually a girl would herself admit that since she was born a girl she should be made to bear punishments as a natural condition of her gender. When a girl reached this point she became one of earth's most fantastic creatures. She questioned not, punishment, the why of it, or what it was. That was up to others to decide. There need be no reason for punishment, other than she was a girl and her body was designed for punishment, thus a girl was punished for simply being a girl. If girls had not been meant to be punished, sexually taken, and chained, their bodies would not have been designed as they were.

A fully trained and elegant female would be the first to admit that the punishment of herself provided pleasure to others, thus what better role could she play than to have her body used for pleasing others? It became her role, her duty, her joy!

Pamela knew full well that the first two months at Avondale were easy, and she was intelligent enough to realize that she was far from trained into the kind of woman she wanted to be. It would take far more hurt and abuse and degradation to change her from a bouncy girl into a lovely and perfect young woman, and in a way, she looked forward to it.

Girls such as Pamela, who anticipated and expected a steadily increasing level of punishment, and would admit that it was necessary, were marvelous things to work with, and totally alluring. In her first two months Pamela had been brought along on schedule. She had learned that rope and chain were not occasional adornments to be used in girl games. They were part of being a girl just as much as skirts, lipstick and panties. Those items certainly were not boy-things, nor were the ropes and chains. They were meant for females. Pamela would leave Avondale feeling odd without some sort of confinement on her limbs somewhere. A girl became used to it and it seemed wrong without. If necessary, she would find some bits of rope or chain at home and affix them herself if she couldn't find someone else to do it.

She had learned quickly that girls were lovely things to make love to, and that that province needn't be reserved for boys alone. Girls were anyone's fair game and provided extreme pleasure for boys and girls alike. Boys used different, bodily parts to love a girl with, because girls just simply have that part, but made do nicely with other parts which a girl recipient enjoyed just as much. The word lesbian, once a nasty word, now was adored and honored. All girls were lesbian if given the chance to find out, and if they didn't, it was a terrible loss. Pamela had found that girls could fall in love.with girls, and that it was very natural.

She had learned the basics of slavery, a female's ultimate joy whether she served master or mis- tress. There was no other emotion so satisfying to a female as to serve and obey.

She had learned about the whip, in a moderate way, and knew that that delightful rear portion of a girl was intended and designed to be whipped.

She knew also that she had but, begun to know the whip as yet. There were many places yet to be whipped, and she must learn to accept and enjoy it, there if she were to become a woman. She must also learn to wield the whip herself and derive arousal from its use upon another female, for females loved to whip or be whipped. Either way was pleasant. Most of all, like rope and chain and lesbianism, whips were part of being a girl. Girls required the whip simply because t,hey were girls.

It was needed, the same as air or food or water, and needed regularly.

And of course, Pamela had learned about rings and their mystifying gratification. Where having rings put through various and sundry body parts might seem to the uninitiated as a punishment, or torture, they were in fact a joy! The sharp hurt as a girl was pierced was wee worth the price for the beautiful symbolism and excitement they returned ten-fold. The unique and modern locking pins in the nipples were of course not needed, since the nipples already held rings. Yet, a girl felt a sense of pride that those punishing items had been added even though they nearly ruined the nipples. It made a girl feel like a real girl!

Yet, all of these things were elementary during the first two months. The other girls, who had been there longer, had told Pamela and Donna what they could expect during their remaining term, and the two loved ones had talked about it in bed many times, Strangely, they were not apprehensive, though some of the things would hurt very, very much. It was, of course, due to Avondale. The punishments, no matter how terrible, were given with a love and a purpose, rather than brutality and anger. Pamela and Donna knew this, and it made it very different indeed. No matter how intense the hurt, no matter how many screams and tears, they knew that it was for their own good in the long run if they wished to be true young ladies.

All things had been done before, and accepted by their past sisters. It was part of being a girl. The true philosophy of Avondale had begun to appear.

Girls were not punished here for being truants, or shoplifters, or bad girls. They were punished be- cause they were girls. They needed to accept this openly and completely first, then they in turn could begin to find arousal themselves in involving themselves in punishment of other girls. Pamela and Donna walked nicely down this trail.

"Hi, Pamela," said Sabrina. "Your day, is it?"

Jan had brought Pamela to the nurse's lab shortly after lunch, and had taken Donna to the pool for a nude swim. Pamela and Donna had begun t.o be separated occasionally now by design. Some things would be done together, some things not, It was up to Jan, of course, and she thought it prudent that they not share everything all the time. It was good that they thought of each other when apart and wondered what the other was experiencing.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so Jan was not being cruel

"Hello, Sabrina. Jan brought me. Swimming with Donna, she is. Geez, I miss that. girl when we're apart. I can just see Jan all stretched out on the diving board with my Donna eating her puss.

Oh, well, You look nice in pink!"

Sabrina laughed. She was sitting in a chair with her legs slightly apart, her mini-nurse's skirt far too short to cover the strip of pink underpants be- tween her thighs. That was why every girl liked her so much. She didn't spread her legs purposely or consciously. Yet she didn't worry about silly legs- together modesty. She just sat naturally and comfortably with legs slightly apart. If her panties showed, they showed, that's all.

"I like pink pants, hon. Mind?"

"No. It's very feminine, y'know. I might as well tell you that I'd like to get into your pants,

Sabrina."

"Really?" teased Sabrina. "Well, maybe some- day, darling. But what would my children think?"

"Oh, Sabrina. You're a right corker, you are."

Both girls laughed.

"Come sit on my lap, Pam, and I'll tell you what's on the docket."

Pamela flounced onto her lap. Sabrina's perfume smelled heavenly, and Pamela put her arms around her neck. Sabrina put her hands on Pamela's breasts and fingered her nipple-rings, causing

Pamela to steal a brief but nice kiss upon Sabrina's mouth.

"Hey. We're ten years apart in age," teased

Sabrina. "I'm twenty-seven."

"I like older women," laughed Pamela.

"Well, enough for now. Got things to do to you, you know."

"Like what?"

"First off, a super sudsy enema, t.hen I'm going to torture you."

"Oh, i.s that all Thought it was something special!" said Pamela. Yet her flippancy could not; hide her apprehension. Phase two was beginning!

Again, Pamela's mind found it hard to accept the perfectly normal manner in which Sabrina dis- cussed what she was going to do to her. In a way, such normal and matter-of-fact words were frightening considering what they meant, especially from so sweet and pretty a nurse as Sabrina, wife and mother of kids! Yet, because it did come from

Sabrina, it made it sound nice and totally accept- able. She knew that she wanted Sabrina to do those things to her.

"Okay, honey-pie, off my lap and onto the table, face down. New experience coming up for you."

Pamela lay propped up on her elbows and felt Sabrina peel her panties down and off. It made her tingly again. Her admiration for Sabrina grew when the nurse didn't throw her panties some- where. She lay them carefully and spread out nicely on the chair. Pamela held out her wrists and ankles to be tied to the four corner bolts of the table. Sabrina pulled the cords tightly into her flesh. It was a matter of acclimation again, and

Pamela was impressed by Avondale's well thought out training. If they had tied her like this during the first week it would have been unbearable, but they had tied her gently, though firmly, at first.

Then, as time went by, the ropes had become tighter and tighter and now she did not mind that

Sabrina had pulled them deep into her wrists and ankles. In fact, she was pleased to be tied like this.

Way a girl should be tied, she knew. She realized that if Sabrina were somehow bound somewhere, she would expect to be tied in the same manner. It was a sisterhood that she and Sabrina shared.

Sabrina removed her blouse, for it was rather warm in the room. Her breasts were magnificent, beautifully nippled. But they also bore three whip stripes. Her back bore a half-dozen more.

"Crikey, Sabrina! Who whipped you darling?

You're staff, not slave!"

Sabrina laughed. "Oh, those? No big deal. Have a girlfriend in town. Play checkers with her once in a while. Losing girl gets six on the back and three on the tits. Last night I lost, as you can see. Shush now, here it comes."

The enema nozzle and tube disappeared up into Pamela's anus, and Sabrina gave her a playful slap on one bottom cheek before opening the valve. The warm soap solution poured into Pamela, and her mouth simply opened in a large round O at the sensation of it. If, was her first such experience and she couldn't quite believe the weird feel of it! As the solution continued to empty into her she could feel her stomach bulging, and she began to squirm wildly on the table.'

"Geez! Wow! Oh, please that's enough. I'm bursting! "

"Shush, darling. Still another quart to go."

Pamela screamed. But she took the quart. Her skin shone with a thin sheen of perspiration. She was kept tied for five minutes, which by the way, was the longest five minutes of her life.

Later Pamela wondered about the enema. It wasn't really torture. What was the reason for it?

But she knew full well. It was merely to let her know what one girl could do to another, and to let her know the degradation of having another girl put that awful thing up her bottom! When one thought about it, there was no other orifice in her body that was so intensely personal and sacred. To have another female stand behind her and calmly force a tube in there was very soul-searching! She had gotten the message.

Pamela had been reversed on the table, bound once again, and awaited Sabrina's next move, staring up at the ceiling. Sabrina put her hands on Pamela's breasts and played with them nicely while she spoke.

"I'm going to hurt you now, darling, but I'm sure you know that your punishments from now on will be more severe. Girls need to be hurt for committing little crimes as you did. Can't ever have you doing things like that again, can we?"

"No, Sabrina. I'm sure sorry I stole. I'm sure I'll never do anything like that again for positive! And … I know I should be punished."

"There's another reason you should be hurt, you know," said Sabrina. "I think you've been here long enough to know what it, is. Tell me."

"Because I'm a girl, and girls should be hurt?"

"Yep. But why?"

"Just for being girls, I guess," said Pamela,

"and of course to give pleasure to the person who is hurting them, right?"

"Bravo, pussycat. Right on the button. You are coming along nicely, you know."

"Thanks, Sabrina," smiled Pamela.

"From now on you and Donna will visit me once a week, and I'll torture you. I have some lovely ways."

"Can Donna and I be tortured together, or must you do us on different days?"

"Really love that fluff, don't you, Pain? Well, if you're a good kitten, I'll think about it."

"Thanks, Sabrina. You're sweet!"

"Don't mention it, hon. Now, 'bout time to start in on you. I think it would serve a purpose if you asked me to torture you. Rather psychological and all that."

"Torture me, Sabrina, for being bad and for being a girl," said Pamela.

The two wires had been plugged in under the table. Sabrina pulled Pamela's locking pins part- way out of her nipples and fastened the wires to the two exposed ends. She then pushed the locking pins back in as far as they would go. She flipped a switch underneath the table and the air hummed.

Pamela's pink nipples turned red and sprang into full erection, and her screams resounded off the walls. Sabrina went back to her chair and began to read the latest issue of Playboy, only glancing occasionally at the twisting, writhing girl. It was three minutes before she turned off the current. Pamela lay limp and soaked with sweat.

"Really hurts the nipples, doesn't it?" Sabrina said as she used a towel to wipe off Pamela's forehead. Pamela could not answer. She was still trying to catch her breath. Sabrina removed the wires and pushed the locking pins back into their sockets in the rings.

"Going to show you something now, kitten. A girl can be hurt and have fun at. the same time," said Sabrina. "Had this done to me when I was only fourteen. Bunch of rowdy girls in my old neighborhood dragged me into a garage one day, pulled my pants off, and tried it on me. Made a. woman out of me in a hurry. I was ever so mad… told my mother about it and she didn't believe my story!"

Sabrina used her fingers on Pamela's clit until it responded and swelled. It wasn't a sexual thing at all that, Sabrina did. She simply needed an erect clit on Pamela to attach one of the wires to with a metal clamp.

The humming began again, and Pamela yowled and arched her back. The hurt was terrible. Yet it was different, and Pamela could tell the difference.

Despite the pain, or maybe because of it, at her clitoris, she felt herself soaring to intense sexual heights. IC Cook only fifteen seconds for Pamela to squeal in orgasm for the first time. It was only the beginning.

Pamela had no idea how long the current shot into her clit. It seemed like hours. The room was blasted by her screams, but the screams were not all alike at the source. Some were from pain, some were from orgasm, and they often were mixed and jumbled together. She was not even aware of Sabrina removing the wire. She felt completely wiped out sexually.

Sabrina helped her up off the table, for she was wobbly.

"Good pussycat, Pam! Turned me on, you did. You're wonderful to torture. Know how many times you came? I counted. Sixteen times. In three minutes. About average. Get your pants on, now,Pam, and go run find your darling Donna. See you next week, I'll have something exciting and it'll hurt lots."

"Thanks heaps," said Pamela. But she smiled at Sabrina. Girl games!

That same week the whippings changed, as expected. Kathy and Heather had come for Pamela one sunny afternoon, and bounced into the room with the vigor so natural to teenage girls. That was what was so exciting about being taken to the whipping suite. A girl never knew when! It could happen anytime, morning, noon or evening, and it could happen three days in a row or not for several days. It was whenever a mistress sent a pair of slaves to fetch another girl. Since a girl didn't know when to expect it, it became very exciting.

She didn't have time to contemplate about it as she would if it had been scheduled!

"You're the lucky one, Pam!" said Heather, turning Pamela around for wrist tying. Donna had mixed emotions, half being relief at not being the one, and yet half frustrated because she knew hers was yet to come. Better to get it over with.

There was no denying that the whip produced many strange emotions, and there was no denying that each girl at Avondale knew she required the whip often. But it hurt. It had hurt since the first girl in history had been whipped, and it would hurt until the last girl. Yet, that was the reason for the whip. Whipping would serve no purpose if it didn't hurt a girl.

Pamela smiled at Donna as her elbows were drawn together and bound.

"You'll have to excuse me for a while, girl-wife.

'Pears like it's yowling time for me. Be back soon.

Have the rubbing lotion ready, will you, luv! By the way, darling, we're almost out of panties and stockings. There's a bunch in the hamper need washing. Will you be a dear while I'm gone and wash 'em out, as well as Jan's? Hers are over there on top the dresser, but for Pete's sake, don't get ours mixed up with hers. She was furious last time!"

Donna gave Pamela a kiss. "Bye, angel. I'll wash the things out, and give you a super rub on your whip marks when you come back."

Pamela sighed, very much in love. Even whip- pings were acceptable when one had someone like Donna to come home to! Heather and Kathy snapped leads onto her nipple-rings and led her out. Donna turned to hand-washing the lingerie in the basin, and decided to wash their things first.

Donna had always liked the idea of pooling all of hers and Pam's stockings and panties and things, each wearing the other's without regard. It was total togetherness of two girls, and strangely, very sexy.

Jan awaited Pamela in the whipping suite.

"Greetings, cunt. Off with everything, rings out!"

"Oh, oh," said Pamela. When Jan called her by that word she was in a very dominant mood. She'd get a real hiding today!

It was the first time that Pamela had been completely and delightfully naked for a whipping. On the frame to have her bottom whipped, she still wore stockings and garter belt. The frame had been pushed to one corner and Pamela looked up at the ceiling chains.

"Right you are, fluff," said Jan. "Time to start taking the whip like a woman, instead of spanked like a baby."

Spanked like a baby? snorted Pamela to herself.

She'd had her bottom laced with the cat at least ten times so far, lost two pair of good pants, and she calls it spanking?

Pamela's wrists were placed in the cuffs at the bottom of the dangling ceiling chains, wide apart, and her ankles were also cuffed into floor settings which were set apart just as wide as her hands. Jan flipped the wall switch and the ceiling chains rose, raising Pamela fully six inches from the floor.

Of all the positions a female could possibly be put, into, the total suspension in the X setting was by far the most beautiful. Her body is perfectly exposed, every last inch of her, and she is made even more alluring by the forced tautness of arms, legs and breasts. Even her nipples were forced into becoming sharply defined and pointed. One simply had to stand back and admire such a female in this delicious bondage, and Jan did just that.

Pamela had never gotten over the beauty of the whipping suite. It was such a meaningful thing to all the girls brought here. It was true that at Avondale girls were whipped. Sometimes awfully whipped. But at least it was done in the most beautiful environment possible for such a thing, and it helped mentally. Somehow the combination of whip and beauty seemed so natural and so pleas- ant. It would be awful to be whipped in a damp dungeon, thought Pamela. She had been strung up facing the large picture window, which because of the warm summer day, had been slid fully open.

Pamela could see the trees and the lawn, and smell the flowers.It was a perfectly lovely view from the second floor, and nearly gave a girl the feeling that she was outside. Far beyond the distant ivy- covered walls Pamela could hear and see the tops of cars speeding along the highway. Beyond that were hills. Pamela smiled to herself. If someone knew, and sat on the hillside with binoculars focused on this window right now, he or she would catch quite a show!

Kathy and Heather, since they had fetched Pamela, were of course rewarded with being allowed to watch. They sat in front of the window facing her, as most girls did who watched. After all, it was the best view of the girl being whipped. All her best parts were in front, and besides, one could enjoy the expressions of hurt on her face each time the Donna to come home to! Heather and Kathy snapped leads onto her nipple-rings and led her out. Donna turned to hand-washing the lingerie in the basin, and decided to wash their things first.

Donna had always liked the idea of pooling all of hers and Pam's stockings and panties and things, each wearing the other's without regard. It was total togetherness of two girls, and strangely, very sexy.

Jan awaited Pamela in the whipping suite.

"Greetings, cunt. Off with everything, rings out!"

"Oh, oh," said Pamela. When Jan called her by that word she was in a very dominant mood. She'd get a real hiding today!

It was the first time that Pamela had been completely and delightfully naked for a whipping. On the frame to have her bottom whipped, she still wore stockings and garter belt. The frame had been pushed to one corner and Pamela looked up at the ceiling chains.

"Right you are, fluff," said Jan. "Time to start, taking the whip like a woman, instead of spanked like a baby."

Spanked like a baby? snorted Pamela to herself.

She'd had her bottom laced with the cat at least ten times so far, lost two pair of good pants, and she calls it spanking?

Pamela's wrists were placed in the cuffs at the bottom of the dangling ceiling chains, wide apart, and her ankles were also cuffed into floor settings which were set apart, just as wide as her hands. Jan flipped the wall switch and the ceiling chains rose, raising Pamela fully six inches from the floor.

Of all the positions a female could possibly he put into, t.he total suspension in the X setting was

by far the most beautiful. Her body is perfectly exposed, every last inch of her, and she is made even more alluring by the forced tautness of arms, legs and breasts. Even her nipples were forced into becoming sharply defined and pointed. One simply had to stand back and admire such a female in this delicious bondage, and Jan did just that.

Pamela had never gotten over the beauty of the whipping suite. It was such a meaningful thing to all the girls brought here. It was true that at Avondale girls were whipped. Sometimes awfully whipped. But at least it was done in the most beautiful environment possible for such a thing, and it helped mentally. Somehow the combination of whip and beauty seemed so natural and so pleas- ant. It would be awful to be whipped in a damp dungeon, thought Pamela. She had been strung up facing the large picture window, which because of the warm summer day, had been slid fully open.

Pamela could see the trees and the lawn, and smell the flowers. It was a perfectly lovely view from the second floor, and nearly gave a girl the feeling that she was outside. Far beyond the distant ivy- covered walls Pamela could hear and see the tops of cars speeding along the highway. Beyond that were hills. Pamela smiled to herself. If someone knew, and sat on the hillside with binoculars focused on this window right now, he or she would catch quite a show!

Kathy and Heather, since they had fetched Pamela, were of course rewarded with being allowed to watch. They sat in front of the window facing her, as most girls did who watched. After all, it was the best view of the girl being whipped. All her best parts were in front, and besides, one could enjoy the expressions of hurt on her face each time the whip fell. Not only that, but if the whipped young lady happened to get turned on, one had a nice view of a dripping pussy.

On t,he wall hung three whips, and Jan removed them to show Pamela.

"You're familiar with t,his one of course," she said, holding up the cat. "Or I should say, your ass is familiar with it! Does a nice job, doesn't it?"

"Yes, mistress Jan. Can't sit for a day or two."

"This one is just a good old-fashioned girl whip, or horse-whip, or whatever. Find 'em in barns, dungeons, anywhere. Had whips like this since time began. Used to whip a girl's back mostly, while the cat is used on bottoms. Now this one is special,"Jan said, holding up the third one.

It was about two feet long, and looked like a rubber-type bathtub hose of about a half-inch diameter, and hollow. In actuality, it was exactly that.

"This is used on a girl's tits and pussy, Pamela.

Hurts something terrible, but doesn't leave cuts or welts like a regular whip. You see, we've special- ized these days! Special whips for special places.

You're much luckier than girls in the old days who had to be satisfied with just one. Want a puff on my cigarette before I mark up that pretty back?"

Most of the girls smoked, but Pamela and Donna had only started two weeks ago.

"Yes, please, thank you mistress." Jan let her have several puffs.

The first stroke of the leather lash made Pamela jerk in her chains. A streak of fire burned along her back and brought a nice gasp from her lips. Dan didn't make a production out of it. The whip just raised and struck, time after time, in perfect pat- terns across the silken bare back. Pamela sang a song of pain very clearly.

It is funny how even during the hurt of the lashes a girl can think clearly about many things, and how certain emotions and feelings seem to be made clearer. In Pamela's mind, one thought be- came very clear.

I'm actually, really, truly, honestly being whipped like a woman! Like you see in the movies!

Me, Pamela McNee!

It wasn't that it hurt any more than the whip- pings she'd taken on her bottom. It was just… different. It was more mature. Even Iittle girls are punished on their bottoms, but the back… with a leather whip… very, very adult. Thus despite the searing pain, Pamela felt a sense of pride. She felt grown up suddenly, as if she had just had her twenty-first birthday! She was given a dozen.

Jan used a damp towel to wipe away two trickles of blood which had run down almost to the deep valley at her bottom cheeks. Kathy and Heather walked around to Pamela's back so they could see the lovely damage.

"Ooh, Pam, your whip marks are simply smashing!" said Heather.

"How nice," said Pamela caustically. "They hurt like hell, too."

Jan whisked the rubber length back and forth and it made a frightening sound.

"Geez," gasped Pamela.

"We call it the Angel's Kiss," said Jan. "Ready to really feel like a female? You'll know you're a girl when I'm done with your tits!"

"I know I'm a girl already," said Pamela. "Don't have to convince me… but, I'm ready."

Pamela never felt anything so traumatic in her life as when the Angel's Kiss had smacked into her breasts. "Smacked" was the correct word. The multi-thonged cat made a loud slashing sound. The leather whip made a cracking sound. But the Angel's Kiss made a smacking sound. It was, of course, due to where it was used. A girl's bottom, by its design, makes its own unique sound when whipped. A girl's back, much firmer, made another. A girl's breasts were not firm… they were curvy and soft. They did not crack when hit. They "smacked."

It had hurt so much, and had been such a sur- prise, that Pamela had not even cried out. Her head swung and her hair whisked and her nostrils flared.

The following strokes were not denied, however, and brought a magnificent array of moans and screams. The Angel's Kiss was not applied quickly to a girl. Each stroke was a separate punishment, applied with a lengthy pause in between to allow the girl the full pain of each blow. Jan applied each stroke with calmness, but yet with stunning force.

Pamela's breasts bounced wildly at each blow, and only when they had returned to their quiet repose did the next stroke come.

Jan aimed, of course, for the nipples each time. It wasn't that she was particularly sadistic. That's simply the way one whips a girl's breasts.

Pamela's screams were noticeably more shrill when the whining stroke did catch one or both of her nipples. She shook her head in stunned admira- tion over the seemingly endless amount of punishment that a female nipple could take. Nipples, created to dispense milk, were supposedly things of intimate sensual softness and tender design. Yet over the centuries, probably no other feminine part had been so punished, abused, and tortured, and still remained intact and sensitive. It was one of the strange mysteries of females. Pamela thought about her own. First, pierced like a sow's ear and violated with a ring. Then actually cored down the middle by another metal device, the locking pin.

Then subjected to electric current by Sabrina. Now whipped by a terrible rubber lash by Jan. Yet t,here they were, still there, and delightfully erect in a false passion produced by hurt!

Pamela had drifted off into these thoughts and had not heard Jan dialing the wall phone.

"Hello, Mrs. McNee? This is Jan Nelson… Oh, she's doing fine. Wonderful girl Matter of fact, I'm calling from our extension in the whipping suite.

Pam is getting her first real whipping right now … no… all over her… everywhere, First of many to come. She's getting to be a proper young woman, so she should begin t.o be whipped like one, don't you agree? Oh, good… I'm glad you feel that way, too. Haven't had time to write you this week, so I thought you'd like a special treat instead. You've heard the sound of a whip on a girl in movies and such… sure… so I won't bore you with that, but I'm whipping her breasts for the first time with a rubber thing we-use… yes… and I thought you might like to hear it being applied to her tits… yes, of course she yells. I'll have one of the other girls hold the phone close to Pam's front so you can hear it very clearly, and of course, her screams, too. I'll probably be well involved with Pam, so I won't pick up the phone again… yes… just hang up when you've heard enough. Bye."

Marienne McNee heard the loud smacking sound followed by her daughter's yowl. And another, and another, and another. Each moan and cry was different, but they. definitely were Pamela's!

"Owwwwww, Geez, my nipples! Yow! Whoooo- eeee! Ohhhhh!" It was enough for Marienne McNee. She wiped her brow. Then dialed Lila Carson. They made arrangements t.o get together on Saturday.

Pamela hung sweating. She hurt, but she had not wept. She finally mustered up enough courage to look down at what she thought would be ravaged breasts. They were not. They were red, but not streaked or welted, and the nipples, despite

Pamela's conviction that they were certainly lying on the floor somewhere, were still nicely in place.

Now that the burning hurt was over, Pamela once again felt a sense of peculiar pride in herself.

She had been breast-whipped like thousands of others, and like the others, found that she was still alive and not too badly hurt. More than ever now, she felt like a real woman! Yes, thought Pamela, I can accept it again and I know that I shall have to accept it again as long as I remain a female. It hadn't been too awfully bad at that, and I guess as long as a female has breasts she should expect to be whipped there.

Yet, her whipping was not over. The Angel's Kiss whined up between her legs and nestled into her sex. She whinnied like a horse. Another new emotion swept over her. It wasn't the searing pain, it was being tied so spread and open so that her most intimate place was totally helpless to prevent its punishment. Pamela shrieked at the second stroke and wanted to scream out that girls shouldn't be whipped there. There should be one sacred and inviolate place that would be free from the kiss of a whip. But she knew that girls had no such spot free from punishment. That was why girls were spread and tied like she was. But why a female whipping her there! As a female, Jan must know how it hurts a girl to be whipped there. The answer was again elementary to Pamela… that's exactly why a girl should be entrusted with the task of whipping another there. Because she knew the limits of the recipient at that place, and she knew the hurt!

Pamela took five strokes within her sex, the rubber rod splitting apart her lips at each strike, and curling up within her cleft behind to kiss briefly the puckered orifice which lay there. The Angel's Kiss had taken a few curly bits of fur from Pamela's patch.

Pamela hurt all over, yet she was still a girl, and had accepted it nicely. Also, because she was a girl, she had been aroused.

Many things contributed to Pamela's sexual condition. Things which thousands of women and girls had found before her. The pure ultimate nakedness of her spread suspension. The masochistic agony of the lashes. Her utter helplessness. The violation of her intimate parts by the whip. The knowledge that another female was doing it to her. But most of all, in Pamela's case, it was having Heather and Kathy sitting there taking in all of her nudity, her personal agony, her cries, her torture. She knew now why other girls were made to watch. It intensified a girl's whipping terribly, and made it totally sexual to know that other girls were receiving sexual delight from her punishment! It was like having girls watch when you were raped. All of these things contributed to Pamela's wetness and rising heat.

Jan was most aware of this. The pussy lashes had been the frosting on the cake, naturally. That was why she had saved Pamela's behind for last.

Pamela was nearly there!

The cat swished and flattened its thongs around Pamela's cheeks. Pamela ignored the hurt. It didn't matter now. She knew she was almost at Utopia, and the stinging cat;lashes merely intensified it. She looked at Heather and Kathy and moaned, her face flushed. They were still both looking at her whipping, but Heather had her arm around Kathy and was holding a breast. Kathy had her hand down inside Heather's blue panties and Pamela could hear the squishing noise, The utter knowledge that two girls were totally turned on because of her was the breaking point! She felt it coming.

"Geez… mistress… Jan… don't… stop.'.. whipping… my ass… do it… harder… whip me… hard, Ohhh God…!"

How many thousands of girls and women have climaxed under the whip will never be known. But Pamela added another name to the list. In fact, Pamela had fainted.

It wasn't always two other girls who came to take a girl to the whipping suite. Sometimes it was another girl and the recipient's own roommate It made it a surprise and terribly exciting. A few days later Pamela had been appointed by Jan, along with Maryl, to bring Donna for her first real whipping. Pamela was ecstatic because Donna turned her on so. Pamela's parts were moist just from binding Donna's elbows together, They had never tied each other as yet, not watched each other really whipped, except of course at the frame on the bottom. To think that she was actually going to get to watch Donna receive what she had taken a few days earlier!

Pamela couldn't pull Donna along fast enough by her nose-ring lead, so anxious was she, and she made Donna squeak several times from rather cruel tugs which made a thin trickle of blood falI upon Donna's lip.

Pamela sat by the window with Maryl, a sensuous young thing, and by the time Jan was halfway through whipping Donna's breasts with the Angel's Kiss, two pairs of white panties had been peeled off and lay side by side on the floor. Maryl was not reserved by any means, and she was a girl- kisser. Some girls were really into kissing, and she was at Pamela's mouth very quickly. They fondled and they fingered, and they watched Donna writ,he under the breast whipping. And of course, they made each other come. Then they sat back to watch Donna reach Shangri-la. And she did.

Pamela had not really needed Maryl, although she was fun to play with. She would have come anyway, simply by watching her pretty "wife" lashed. It had changed Pamela completely within herself. She had climaxed under the whip and she knew now that she would do so again and again.

And she would climax when watching others whipped.

Miss Pamela McNee had reached an important level, as all Avondale girls eventually did. It was the unique and beautiful world of sexual masochism and sadism. Either philosophy and condition would please her from this day on. She could be excited from being hurt. She could be excited from watching another girl hurt. Only one area remained virginal to Miss Pamela McNee, age seven- teen. To receive pleasure from hurting another girl herself! It would come soon. Avondale made sure.

Donna was using the strap-on, and Pamela thrashed and squealed under her thrusts. Sandy and Ginny came bounding into the room.

"Oh, look, Gin, Pam's fucking her little wife.How sweet!"

"Hi, Sandy and Ginny," said Pamela.

"Ooooh, she takes every inch, doesn't she!" exclaimed Sandy. "She's a smashing bit, isn't: she … look how she has her legs wrapped around you.Must be nice to be in love. Gin and I may get married too, someday."

"Sure she takes it all," said Pamela. "She's just a beautiful thing, she is! What's up?"

"Wanna play girl-tie?"

"Sure! Just let me finish her off first."

All of the girls played "girl-tie." It was played in a room in the basement. The room had been called the "Pink Room" in the old days because of its soft pink pastel walls and carpeting designed to create a total feminine decor. The Pink Room had been used for more serious bondage and punishments during the more advanced training of young ladies.

It was, in effect, a warm lovely dungeon of sorts without the drawbacks of stone and granite. The room had contained dozens of devices designed to draw the ultimate screams of girls. During the early twenties the Pink Room was shorn of its things, the powers of Avondale having decided that such sophisticated punishments should be conducted in the nurse's lab, by a nurse well trained in both the intricacies of hurting young ladies and in the medical knowledge of just what they could accept without lasting damage.

Most of the hooks, rings, bars, posts and other tying items had been left, however, and modern trainees found the Pink Room perfect for playing girl games. "Girl-tie" had been played for decades.

It was fun, and it could be played by any number of girls from two on up. The rules were simple. Each girl had one turn at tying any other girl of her choice in any manner she desired. When each had had her turn, the girls decided which one had done the most exciting or unusual or painful bondage idea. Each girl thus tried to think of something unique, for there was an incentive to win the game.

The winner could choose any one of the other contestants, and the chosen girl had to eat her dinner that night, in the dining room with her hands tied behind her. Obviously the other girls at dinner enjoyed the spectacle of the poor creature thrusting her messy face into mashed potatoes and soup!

All in all, it was lots of fun.

Ginny's idea was simply elegant, and she had taken the last turn, using Donna as her subject.

The girls had removed their rings before coming downstairs, for the rules of the game required that.

Five rings in a girl made too many easy places to tie her by, and thwarted original ideas. Girls must be naturally nude and ringless.

Pamela had tied Sandy onto a wooden sawhorse, and despite the discomforting hurt to the girl's pussy, it was not really a new idea. Donna had strung Ginny up by one thumb and one big toe from the ceiling and felt that her idea might possibly have a chance of winning. But it was agreed in the end that Ginny's subjection of Donna was the best idea.

Ginny had tied Donna's hands behind her and had then tied a ceiling rope to the wrist rope. This was pulled upwards raising Donna's arms up in back until she was painfully bent forward on her toss. Ginny had then tied cords between Donna's nipples and her big toes, right to right, left to left.

These cords were pulled taut until Donna's nipples were agonizingly stretched. It was a very clever idea, admitted particularly by Donna.

"Crikey," said Donna, "super idea, Gin! If I bend forward to ease the pulling of my nips, my arms go higher in back and hurt like heck. If I try and straighten up to keep my poor arms from breaking, my nips get pulled off, or at least get stretched to heaven knows! Cor! Hate to be left like this for a few hours. I think I'd run out of screams and walk away with the world's longest nipples to boot! I think you win, darling!"

The others had agreed.

"Well, Donna, since you were so nice, and made such a good subject, how would you like to eat dinner messy-face style tonight?" said Ginny.

"Love to. Just get me down! Cor!"

"How about a swim?" said Ginny to Pamela and Sandy. "We're already in our birthday suits."

"Great! Let's go," said Pamela.

"Hey, how 'bout me?" wailed Donna.

"Don't worry, punkin," laughed Ginny. "Nipples are amazing things, y'know. Besides, just think how super you'll look in London when you wear a T-shirt or tank top over three-inch nipples!

May have to cut little holes in your shirts for 'em. 'Sides, we'll be back in an hour. More or less."

"Oh, you bitches," wailed Donna. "Just you wait, Ginny! Pam darling, make her let me loose.I'll make love to you ten times in a row tonight!"

"Sorry, pussycat," laughed Pamela. "Long nipples are so very cute on a girl. Bye!"

Donna whisked her hair from side to side in anger and frustration.

"Oh, damn. Double and triple damn!" she whined. But Donna Carson wasn't really angry.

Girl games! A girl could expect anything

The others left. She was alone.

"Let's see, now… if I bend this way, maybe… ow!.. sorry about that, Miss Left Nipple. Well, let's try something else…"

Chapter Six

It was not often that transgressions were committed at Avondale. They were indeed rare, for the whip worked wonders in removing from a young lady most, bad habits. Yet occasionally an unfortunate incident did take place. After all, it must be remembered that the inmates of Avondale were there because of anti-society behavior in the first place, and even though the girls' habits had been mainly corrected, sometimes a girl reverted briefly to her old ways in a moment of weakness.

The ten girls had been called to Ravan's office, and they knew immediately that something was amiss. Rarely were all the girls gathered together in Ravan's office, and minor problems were usually corrected by the mistresses' application of a whistling cat across a girl's panty.

Ravan looked very stern, a manner not often seen by any of the girls.

"To be brief," she spoke, "mistress Jan has had her watch stolen."

A murmur of disbelief came forth from several mouths.

"I've called you here obviously to give one of you the chance to make a clean breast of it. Crimes here are forgiven if the girl is big enough to admit it. Of course, a significant punishment is also involved, but then the incident is forgotten. If no one con- fesses, and we find out who did it on our own investigation, the culprit is removed from here and sent to Danmoor Woman's Prison in Stratford for her original sentence. I simply will not tolerate dis- honesty here, considering the favor you have been shown by being sent here rather than prison. I will ask you now which one of you took mistress Jan's watch. Before you answer, I will tell you the punishment involved. You have one of two choices.

You may elect to be sent to Danmoor, or you will have your pussy sewn together in front of all the other girls, and left that way for twenty-four hours. Yes, I hear your gasps, it is a terrible punishment indeed. But so is the reverting to your old bad habits after all of our love and considerate training! Now, who did it"."

The silence was deafening, and disappointing.

All of the girls knew that one of them had done it, and were ashamed that the guilty one did not have the courage to confess.

"Very well You may return to your rooms," said Ravan with a sigh.

It was that evening when Pamela found the watch by accident in Donna's cosmetic case. She wanted to borrow a lipstick and found the watch tucked neatly under a comb and brush set. Pamela was stunned. Donna was swimming.

"Oh, Donna. Oh, darling. Why?" she said aloud.

Pamela sat on the bed and wept for the first time since she had been at Avondale. The whips had made her cry, naturally, as they did all girls, but she had not wept in mental hurt before. It was an hour of mental anguish.

As Pamela left the room, she passed Donna in the doorway just coming in. Pamela's face was wet with tears, and she held Donna and gave her a special kiss on the mouth.

"Ooooh, a special one! Mmmm," said Donna.

"Hey, you're crying, hon. What's the matter?"

Pamela did not answer, but continued on her way to Ravan's office.

Ravan stood up when Pamela entered. Pamela put the watch on her desk.

"I'm so sorry, Ravan. I don't know what made me do it. Punish me."

Ravan smiled and kissed her lips softly.

"I'm rather proud of you, Pamela. It would have been better if you had said so when all of you were here earlier. Yet I can understand how a girl must feel when she knows what the punishment is. It does take courage. But you are here, and I can see that you have been crying, so obviously you are sorry for what you did. The punishment, will he given now, by me, but then the incident will be for- gotten. Your mother will not be told of this crime.

Go get the other girls and bring them all to the library,"

"Yes, Ravan."

Pamela was tied naked upon the center library table, her hands and feet bound to the four corners.

The other girls stood around all sides of the table.

Donna was white-faced and tears welled in her eyes. She had never felt so ashamed in her life.

When she saw the long, heavy needle and thread she gasped, and she grabbed Pamela's arm to speak out. Pamela looked at her and shook her head negatively. Tears rolled down Donna's cheeks. She was ashamed at her lack of courage.

She didn't deserve Pamela!

Ravan sent the needle through Pamela's sex lip and drew the heavy thread through, before cross- ing it with an opposite stitch. Pamela's fists clenched, and her wrists tugged at her bonds, but she did not make a sound. She would not make a baby of herself in front of all the girls. The second criss-cross stitch had now sealed the lower inch of Pamela's vagina.

"Stop!" shrieked Donna. "Ravan, I did it!"

Tears poured from her eyes.

There was a stunned silence in the room.

No one spoke, but all felt, their hearts beating faster. What had just been witnessed in this room was a love story far beyond the writings of Shakespeare, Keats and Shelley. It was a love story of immeasurable beauty.

Such love stories between females were not rare down through the centuries. But they did exceed any love story between a man and a woman. The intensity and the dedication between females was an unsolved mystery. Many had died for another woman. Many, like Pamela, had made sacrifices of agony and pain for the love of a girl. Ruth, the..Christian martyr, had saved a girl from Roman rape by confessing, falsely, to an incident and submitting to ravishment for two days and two nights in public. Therina, an Arabian princess who had fallen in love with one of her little slave girls, took the blame for the girl's wounding of a visiting dignitary by concealing the bloody knife in her own room, and was given three hundred lashes in public. The stories went on and on, yet none was any greater than what had just happened in the library at Avondale.

Ravan herself was stunned. She had witnessed this very thing many times before, and it came as no utter surprise. Yet, each time she was stunned anew by the ultimate sacrifice one girl would make for another. It left her breathless.

She carefully removed the thread from Pamela and asked Donna to replace her on the table.

Pamela was crying now, too, for in turn, she realized the extent of Donna's love for her, just as

Donna had felt it. If Donna had stood mute their love might never be the same. But now, their love would last forever!

"Please, Ravan," she wept, "may I be excused from watching?"

Ravan knew the extent of the emotions being portrayed in this scene of love. To have insisted that Pamela watch now, would be utterly cruel and heartless.

".Of course, dear… and we all admire you very much." The other girls, and even Jan, licked and kissed her sniffling face, and hugged her before she left.

Donna, about to be sewn, presented a face of tranquility and beauty. The pain would not matter for, like an ancient Christian girl, her love and her confession had made her commitment desirable.

Her love of Pamela and the magnificent feeling of pride in herself for confessing had brought her to soaring heights of peace and soul-cleansing. She felt alive!

"Do not tie me, Ravan. For allowing my loved one to suffer for my lack of courage, I would like to accept it unbound. I will not interfere or move. In fact, I will watch you do it."

Ravan smiled and shook her head. Would the wonders of girls never cease!

"I believe also that you should ask for it,Donna," said Ravan.

"Sew my pussy together, Ravan," said Donna in a clear and strong voice.."Use as many threads as you like."

It took only ten cross-stitches to close Donna's pussy, and the girl had been true to her word. She sat up on the table as Ravan sewed her and watched every stitch go in.'She had uttered no sound of any kind" but several times she had closed her eyes briefly to cover the tears that were about to fall.

The other girls were silent in complete awe and admiration.

When Ravan had finished, Donna swung from t,he table without looking again at her ravaged sex lips, and pulled on her panties. She did not walk to her room. She ran, to be with her darling Pamela.

There the two girls held each other close for hours. No words were spoken, for none needed to be. No thought was given to lovemaking or kissing, for what had transpired between them was beyond physical ministrations. It was enough just to hold each other and feel each other's love flowing between them.

Finally, Pamela kissed Donna softly.

"May I see your pussy, darling?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't, my beautiful wife- girl. It's… not pr that way. Tomorrow it shall be pretty again for you."

"I understand, sweetheart. Sleep with your pants on tonight."

"Thank you, Pam."

"Thank you, Donna."

"For what?"

"For just being you."

It, was in September that Pamela and Donna were first scheduled to be taken to the boys at Dunden College. It came as no surprise to either of them, for they had been assured of such thing by Ravan on the day they had arrived at Avondale.

Besides, since they were the newest, inmates, the other girls had told them all about, it.

In the training of a young lady, many facets are utilized for her total rounding out. These experiences had not diminished or lessened since the first Avondale girls came to the ivy buildings, over a century ago. All of the things girls felt and did then were felt and done now. Some new ideas had been added. with time, but none of the old ones were eliminated. So much went into the training of a young lady into a sensual and remarkable female.

Like parts of an intricate machine, nothing could be left out and still expect it to run smoothly. So it was with the training of a girl.

It took punishment, pain, bondage, slavery, sub- mission, obedience, masochism, sadism, lesbian- ism, humiliation, degradation. All of these things were liberally mixed into the stew at Avondale.

And it took sexual submission to males as well.

Sex with boys had always been an integral part of Avondale's training, from the earliest days, for two reasons. It was not good that the girls should not bed with boys for the long term at the school.

While it was true that the girls at Avondale had found complete and total enthrallment with each other in a plethora of delicious lesbianism, most all of the girls would quickly turn to boys as well once leaving school The idea was not to turn a girl into a dedicated and strict lesbian, but to allow her to become that ultimate, unmatched, perfect female who would travel the road of ecstasy in life by virtue of bedding and loving and desiring both men and women equally. The unique creature who could sit on a bench and eye both a handsome male and a winsome female. So it was not the best for a girl to spend the best part of a year without boys, and forget them!

Secondly, the forced sexual submission to boys was intended to be, in the truest sense, a punishment. There were of course many forms of punishment besides physical pain and discomfort. There was the intense pain of degradation and humiliation as well, which a girl needed so badly to rid her of inhibitions, pride and self-respect until she finally realized that her purpose and design in life, being born female, was to provide pleasure, completely, in every way possible. Being subjected to boy-use was most valuable, especially if used by totally unknown boys. There she learned that she was not a person, or a girl, or a loved one. She was just a handy pussy. It did wonders to a girl's self- esteem to know that she could just as well have a pillowcase over her head. Only her pussy mattered.

Avondale girls seldom came back from Dunden College with any false pride remaining.

A century ago, the sex with boys was a significant punishment and training method. To be accurate, thousands of very young ladies lost their virginity at training schools, but it was expected and accepted as a necessary part of growing up fifty or a hundred years ago. Sex with boys, in fact, was a very sophisticated punishment in those days, for most of the trainees were but thirteen or fourteen at the time. Rape was used as the initial experience because of the emotional excitement of it, and the necessary humiliation involved therein. The moppets, still young enough to have little or no fur between their legs, were forced to play a game of even younger proportions, and were made to wear little-girl hair ribbons and dainty little dresses before being made to walk through the adjoining woods on a special day. Within the trees, groups of cooperative lads from a neighboring boys' school, loaned for the occasion by the discreet master of the school, awaited their prey. Appropriate and sincere squeals were emitted as clean little skirts and immature underclothes were torn away, and the youngsters found themselves plunged and lanced time and time again for the longest time.

Most found, in the woods, that a boy's tool would work well in the three places a girl had to offer.

Later in their training, the girls would be taken to London to a cooperative hotel, where for a weekend they were required to prostitute themselves for money. It was an era where moppet availability was still legal. The purpose was, of course, not for the money at all, but to teach the girls the ultimate degradation of selling themselves publicly. Indeed after such activity a girl would have no inhibitions

left, and no matter if such things never again happened, she would remember all her life that she had whored. It did make a woman out of a moppet!

In 1972, however, sex with boys had little value as a punishment. Rare was the girl who at seventeen was still a virgin, so the required submission produced little of the humiliation it once did. Rape games too were meaningless for today's modern girl for she would probably have her clothes off before the boy. Yet the experience was still valuable to the extent that the girls still were required to accept money for their bodies at the boys' college. If nothing else, prostitution did at least have some emotional impact even on the most experienced of modern girls, and thus, was worthwhile for training purposes. In addition, Ravan had added something new.

Pamela and Donna had been sent to the nurse's office in preparation for their coming weekend jaunt up to Dunden. On other weekends they had watched other girls go off in the car of their mistress, and were told all about it by the talkative adventurers the next day! They knew their turn would be soon, and got the tingly feeling again when thinking about actually selling themselves!

When they entered, Sabrina was at the filing cabinet, bent nicely to the lowest drawer.

"Seems kinda silly for you to wear that little skirt at all 'Brina," laughed Donna. "Pants show all the time anyway. Why don't you wear just pants and stockings and nothing else just like the rest of us. I wouldn't feel right wearing any more than that anymore!"

"Hi, kittens!" said Sabrina, turning around.

"Because I'm staff and you're slaves, if you must know. Slaves don't wear much, you know. Besides tomorrow you'll have to put blouses and skirts on for your trip to boyland. Can't afford to have anyone nicked on the way. And no rings, for sure.

Take 'em all out, and don't forget. The boys just wouldn't understand such things like we girls do.

Ready to fuck your heads off?"

"Sure, Sabrina," said Pamela. "But why did we get called in here? Not that I mind! You're scrumptious, y'know, even if you are an ancient twenty- seven. Gonna torture us again so soon? It was just last Monday that you made us howl By the way, thanks for doing us together, 'Brina. We sang a nice duet, didn't we? It's super to see each other hurt, 'n' after all, we are wife and wife. Do us again together?"

Sabrina laughed. "You two are incorrigible!

Sorry, no torture today. Just the required nurse's speech before being ladies-of-the-night tomorrow.

Some things you should know, and as your friendly neighborhood nurse, I'm elected to lay it on you, so plop your pretty little bottoms down in the chairs and I'll get to it… that is, if you can sit. I see the cat has been at your rumps again today. Cor, you both got laced, didn't you?"

"Yep, we got laced. Jan can be heavy-handed sometimes," said Donna.

"Being made to have sex with boys is supposed to be a punishment at Avondale," said Sabrina.

"In the old days a moppet lost her cherry here, but today's girls are something else again. You two probably haven't kept your legs crossed for years, so your romp with the boys will be just fun and games. Ravan is well aware of the sex bit not being what it used to be to degrade a girl, so she came up with something a few years back. Here's how the game is played. I have supplies of the pill here for you to take, and you're welcome to them. You will have three sessions with the boys about a month apart. Only three times, but all night, of course.

Now, here's the fun of it. You can also choose not to go on the pill! It's entirely up to you. It's what we call, taking it 'natural.' It's the chance t,hat makes the whole thing exciting for you! If you don't wan't to play roulette you can take the pill, and none of the other girls, or Jan, or Ravan will know, and I would not tell anyone or think any- thing less of you. I realize it's a serious decision and would not be forced upon you. It would be too great of a punishment. On the other hand, if you feel that being made to have sex with boys should be part of your punishment training, including the chance of pregnancy, then you can choose to fuck 'natural.' "

Pamela and Donna looked at each other. It was the old tingly feeling again!

"If you do choose to get laid natural and you get pregnant, here's what would happen. You would be released from Avondale at once, and put on probation to your mothers. After the birth of your child, arrangements have been discreetly made with a society in London to accept your child for adoption purposes. Thus you will not be saddled with a child at your age. On the other hand, you may also keep the child. It's up to you. After the birth of the child, whether you keep if, or not, you do not have to come back to Avondale to complete your sentence. You do, however, have to report back to me, or whatever nurse might be here, to be whipped once each month for two years in lieu of your early release. Now. want, the pill, or want it 'natural'? Come hack in an hour and tell me."

The discussion in their room was rather brief.

Pamela and Donna used most of the time for a good romp in bed together.

"Abby and Tricia left a note," said Donna.

"Want to know if we'd like to swap bedmates with them tonight. Abby with me, Trish with you. What say?"

"Sure!" said Pamela. "We haven't made it with others since Sunday. 'Sides, Trish has some tongue. Hey, we better get back to Sabrina, it's almost four."

The two skipped back to the nurse's room.

"We'll take it 'natural,' Sabrina! Puts a lot of excitement into it!"

"Thought you'd say that, kittens. Good slaves.

Makes me think a lot of you."

Jan drove them up to Dunden College late Satur- day afternoon where they met the boys in the game room. On the whole most of them were nice-looking lads, and mannerly towards their visitors. Despite the fact that t,he two girls were inmates of a

"reform" school and were there for the selling of their young bodies, there was no excuse for not being gentlemen at all times. The college boys were from fine families where the presentation of courtesy and good manners towards females was most expected.

Pamela and Donna were shown a bedroom, where they undressed and plopped on the bed to await their first "customer" of the evening. They were told that there would be twenty-four boys, all told. An even dozen apiece. Jan sat in a nearby chair to play the pimp she was for the night! The first pair of eager lads came in happily.

"Hi, boys!" said Jan. "Here they are, sweet seventeen and never been kissed! Not more than a million times, anyway! Here's the menu. Two pounds for fucking them in the cunt, and you can come in them of course; three pounds for a super blow-job; four pounds to ass-fuck. Take your choice! Let's see the quids first, though."

The first lads entered Donna and Pamela, and the bed began to bounce. The boys were eager, and it did not take long for the two to feel the warm emission pump into their pussies.

Pamela turned to Donna and laughed. "Here's to twins, baby! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" laughed Donna.

"What?" asked the boy,confused.

"Oh, nothing," said Pamela to the boy. "Let's hold hands while we're getting laid, Donna."

"I'm for that. Hey, Jan, do we get a chance to have a go at each other once or twice tonight?"

"You're here to work, slaves," said Jan soberly.

"Besides, it would be a messy lunch in there, I'm afraid!"

"We don't care," said Pamela, pouting. "Oh, well, you're the boss."

Mrs. Marienne McNee September 17, 1972

46 Queen's Road

Hammersmith

W.3, London

Dear Mrs. McNee:

Just a note with some photos, since I wrote you at length last week. Thought you might enjoy these of Pamela's prostitution night with boys.

She did well, and didn't seem to tire at all.

The photos are close-ups because we don't wish to show the boys' faces. Obviously, as part of our discreet arrangement with the college. The first three are close ups of Pamela's pussy, mouth and ass showing boy-stuff running out. Just wanted you to know she took it in all three places, interchangeably. The last photo was fun! Two boys in Pamela at the same time, an inch apart! Did you know that girls can take two boys at once? Three really, if she used her mouth on another.

Pamela made thirty-seven pounds for me! She's a sweetheart, and I sure could use the money.

Anyway, your daughter is now a "legal" whore.

One more price to pay for her indiscretions in shoplifting.

Sincerely,

Jan Nelson

P.S. Donna was with Pamela, too. They are rather inseparable since being married and it was nice that they could sell themselves together.

Bondage was beginning to become more rigorous, intentionally, for Pamela and Donna. Jan was following Ravan's guidebook to the letter. By this time a girl should begin to learn patience and tranquility in bondage and so Jan began what was called "solitary." The new phase did not consist of particularly harsh confinements. The first day,Pamela had been hung by her thumbs in the Pink Room for four hours. Alone. Two days later she was fastened to a cross for six hours. Alone. A week later she was simply tied by her wrists to a hook high over her head on the wall, and left for twenty-four hours. Alone.

It was not the discomfort of agonized limbs, of course. It was the loneliness, and of not being told when she wouId be released. A girl just didn't know, during the "solitary." It could be for an hour or it could be for a week. That was the purpose of it, naturally. A girl was left only with hope.

"Solitary" did wonders for a girl. Primarily, it taught her as nothing else could that a girl was simply born to be bound for whatever length of time was chosen by her mistress or master. If a girl continued on with self-imposed slavery after Avon- dale, to a chosen master or mistress, she should certainly be ready to be bound for incalculable periods of time. Most girls, of course, did go on to the pleasures of slavery.

The first hour or two was the hardest, for a girl was most conscious of her discomfort. Then, how- ever, a merciful tranquility set in, and a female could remain in her bondage seemingly forever.

Her thoughts turned away from her predicament to other things, and she became a silent hanging mannequin. She could even sleep, or doze in a state of self-imposed unawareness. The release, of course, was sensational It was Utopia! It was Valhalla! No matter how hateful earlier thoughts might have been towards the one who had put her in bondage, a girl would fall to her knees to kiss the hand or foot of her tormentor. Release brought love.

For Pamela, the hardest thing was being alone, without Donna. With her to share the ordeal, or even any other girl, it would have made it much easier. They could talk, and play sexy word games with each other, and stay there endlessly. But then it would not be "solitary" nor accomplish its purpose.

There was another thing, too, during "solitary," for which a plastic sheet had been placed under the girl Trips to the powder room just weren't avail- able. A girl had no choice but to perform her bodily functions right where she was. Of all the things a girl must bear, this was probably t,he hardest.

Even when totally alone. most girls tried to hold off as long as possible, hopefuI that her release might come at any minute. But in the end she knew that it must be done to end the discomfort. After the first time it was much easier to accept.

After the ''Solitary'' training came the "Silence." All that was necessary was a girl-gag of any type. The first day was six hours, the second day eight, and a week later, twenty-four hours of gagged silence as she went about her classes, walks, swimming and sleeping. The gag was only removed for eating, and if silence was broken, a second twenty-four hours was given. It was not all that difficult, and taught a girl silence and listening. It felt odd, of course, when Pamela and Donna made love in bed. It wasn't that t;hey were unable to speak the words of endearment to each other.

Those words were not necessary, for they could tell each other everything by their delightful eyes of love. If, was just that when one of them climaxed, the normal squeal came out a muffled gurgle.

It was on a Sunday afternoon in early fall, with windy rain squalls blowing in from the west, that Jan came for Pamela and Donna in their room. The two had been cutting more pictures of naked girls out of Playboy and other girlie magazines to tack up on their now nearly covered walls. One would have thought it was a men's prison cell, but then people just aren't used to erotic lesbian teenagers. several of the large centerfolds of luscious young women had lipsticked kisses on their pussies.

Jan attached leads to the pussy rings of both girls. Whipping time, they thought. Yet it was odd that two slaves didn't come for them as usual. The pattern had been broken.

Jan handed each other's lead to the other girl so that they.could lead each other out of the room.

Utterly nice! But mysterious!

In the whipping suite, Jan removed all of their rings, lay the cat, the whip, and the Angel's Kiss in a neat row on the floor, and left. She had not spoken one single word! Pamela and Donna looked at each other, confused.

"Mystery time," said Pamela. Donna put her arms around her loved one.

"No it isn't, darling. Can't you guess?"

"You mean;..?"

"I think she's trying to tell us to whip each other, Pam!"

"Oh, Donna. I've just drooled over someday being able to whip a girl, like Ginny or Heather or

Maryl, and I know you have too. Goodness, we've talked about it enough. But… each other! I… just don't know if I can."

"Darling, look," said Donna. "We know girls need to be whipped, right?"

"Right."

"And you and I know we should be whipped a lot, right?"

"Right."

"And we kinda like it, don't we?"

"Mm hmm."

"And we get kicks out of watching a girl gettin' flogged?"

"Makes our pants wet."

"And we're dying to stripe a chick ourselves?"

"You know it!"

"Well, taffy-apple, since we love each other so bloomin' much and know the whip is good for us, doesn't it make sense to lay it on each other? I mean, who's better qualified t,o make me yell than you, and vice versa? Besides, darling, I don't know of anyone I'd rather have whip me silly than you,'cause I know you love me and are doing it for my own good. I really think it's going to turn me on terribly."

"Oh, darling, you always say things so beautifully, and it always makes sense," said Pamela. "I hadn't thought of it that way… but it's still going to be hard for me to hurt you terribly."

"Well, baby, let's give it a go anyway, and see what happens. You whip me First. I'll get like a centerfold for you. and you string me up. Face me towards the window, hon. I like to watch the rain storms. Toes on the floor, or off"

"Let's try 'em off. I like to see a girl hang off the floor. Okay with you?"

"Fine with me if it's fine with you, love. Zip goes the panties… I'm all yours, girl. Do your best,… or I guess, worst!"

Donna hung beautifully, watching the rain splatter against the window. They had both tried to be flippant, but both knew it was an extraordinary moment for each of them'. It was the beginning of what could be for Pamela McNee and Donna Car- son. Pamela chose the whip.

The lash across her back made Donna jerk and she involuntarily licked her lip in hurt. Pamela stood spellbound looking at the long red streak she had just made on her lover's flesh. Donna sensed Pamela's emotion, and turned her head to look at her.

"Darling, do you love me?"

"You know I adore you, Donna."

"Then whip me. Hard. If you play namby-pamby with me you're not proving your love. Turn it on. If

I know you like I think I know you, you'll start gettin' turned on after a bit and then it'll be funtime for you."

Pamela never ceased to be amazed at the many ways Donna showed her love each day. One would think she was an experienced mature forty, rather than a cute seventeen.

Pamela brought the whip screaming across

Donna's back

"Owwwwww," howled Donna, "… that's better! Oww! Whooee!"

Pamela whipped her back ten times before turn- ing to the cat. There were little trickles of blood from some of the deeper cuts on Donna's back, but not enough for concern.

Pamela's wetness began at about the fifth smack of the cat across Donna's pretty bottom. The emo- tion of knowing that it was she who made Donna's cheeks bounce so terribly was strange, and very exciting. Pamela had dreamed of the time when she could whip a girl. Then when it turned out to be

Donna she had vacillated. Now, she was glad that her first time was with her adorable little wife!

Yet still when it was-time to whip Donna's breasts, she hesitated. She knew every inch of those lovely items, by hand and mouth. She loved them, and they belonged to her. How could she punish them with the cruel Angel's Kiss? Her first hit with the rubber whip hardly made Donna's breasts bounce. The second and third were placed high and low,

"Darling, you're supposed to whip a girl across her nipples. You're aiming to miss mine purposely," said Donna with a sigh. "If you're gonna whip a girl, do it right, else what's the sense? I shall whip your nipples terribly, so if you just want to play games with… owwww! Cor, girl, you got, 'em that time!"

It might have been Donna's words or it might have been her growing wetness which made her begin to lash Donna's breasts with a fervor. More than likely it was the age-old and unexplainable instinct of females. History had shown, over and over again, that even a girl who had never whipped another, and was forced to do so against her will, began to whip harder and harder and harder as a virginal passion began to rear itself. Later the girl might well shake her head in disbelief at how terribly hard she had lashed her victim in those mo- ments of uncontrollable frenzy!

Whatever the reason, Donna's breasts bounced wildly under the torrent of blows. Her head thrashed and her screams were like sirens in the night, as Pamela hit them with increasing force.

Donna fought back the tears.

"God, Pam. Jan never hit my tits that hard..It was beautiful. You hurt me a lot, but I love you all the more for it. I'm close to coming,"

"Spread your legs, cunt!" Donna squealed in ecstasy at being called that by her lover for the first time. Pamela had said it in the fun of the game of course, but it was exciting for both of them. A slave to a slave!

"Yes, mistress Pamela," replied Donna, going along with the erotic scenario. Both girls felt on the verge of exploding into bits, and by the time the first lash up between the legs was delivered by

Pamela, Donna was a veritable sea of wetness. The blow smacked liquid into the air. It was too much for Pamela to continue, and she threw the Angel's Kiss onto the floor and held Donna tightly, as they both moaned and writhed in joint orgasm.

They would do it again a short time later when Pamela hung gasping from Donna's whips.

Chapter Seven

Pamela and Donna had been called into Ravan's office. They weren't particularly apprehensive because they had done nothing wrong. And of course they had still two months to serve. They were curious therefore, because it was not often that girls were summoned by Ravan.

Ravan looked lovely. She always did, but espe- cially so on this day. Her gown was black, and slit up to the waist on one side. The girls marvelled at her legs. Ravan was an inspiration to the girls of teenage years. The age of forty had always seemed so "old." Yet Ravan disproved the belief that, a woman was "over the hill" at that point. Her slim, sleek legs and full chest so apparent under the gown bodice proved that a woman of fort,y, if she took care of herself, was still vibrant and very desirable. Pamela worshipped Ravan, and vowed that at forty she would still look so attractive.

"How would you girls like to be serving maids at my home for my bridge club next Saturday night?" she asked.

The girls were stunned and extremely honored.

They had heard that on occasion Avondale girls were chosen by Ravan to provide domestic service at one of her "rather interesting" parties. Only the very best girl or two were selected for that honor.

It took exemplary behavior and the finest of acceptance to Avondale's training ordeals. In effect, Ravan chose only those who were well on their way to becoming beautiful young women!

Nothing could have been so prestigious as to be selected for such a thing!

Both girls curtsied, an act not performed often outside of meeting the Queen.

"We'd be honored, Ravan," said Pamela with total humility.

"You will of course be naked and with your rings on. The women at my bridge club are, shall we say, very discreet. Although their lives are not particularly entwined with the things that you and I deal with, they know a good thing when they see it. A wrong word from them here or there, outside of our circle, would result in them being ostracized from further invitations. They are well aware of that.

Besides, they do like to play 'penalty bridge.' It's surprising how many of today's women tend to enjoy such things. Females are peculiar, aren't we?

Avondale isn't the only place where the 'ultimate' pleasures take place, as you will happily find when you return home."

Ravan's lovely estate was but fifteen minutes from Avondale and the drive in i.he Rolls was elegant. The girls had not seen the "outside" for over four months, and they fairly bubbled with delight.

The manor was huge, in the old tradition, yet un- staffed. Ravan's needs were few since most of her hours were spent at Avondale, and the help she did need on occasion was supplied by fortunate Avon- dale inmates. Pamela and Donna were shown to an exquisite bedroom to shower and freshen up.

Ravan handed them a short length of chain.

"Wear only your heels, and fasten the chain be- tween your nose rings. You will serve in tandem."

"Yes, Ravan. Thank you so much." Donna was almost groveling in pride.

When the two come down the staircase an hour later they looked delicious. They were scrubbed clean, and had taken advantage of Ravan's rich cosmetics of lipstick, rouge and eye make-up. Fragrant lilac powder had been puffed onto their pubic hair. The chain between their noses glistened under the lights from the chandeliers as did the five dangling rings in each of them. As usual they held hands as they walked. They always held hands.

Their heels made beautiful clicks upon the stairs.

Few sounds are as elegant as the high-heeled shoes of a perfect pair of female legs. Ravan stood at the bottom of the staircase, and sighed. Nothing in the world was as perfect as a naked teenage girl fully ringed. They were just all legs and breasts and bot- toms and soft long tresses of hair tumbling on soft shoulders. Their thighs quivered just so slightly when they walked, and separated so beautifully at the top as if to purposely and impudently expose the soft fur which lay there.

"My guests will be here shortly. Prepare the serving trays wit.h wine and coffee in the parlor.

You will find a surprise there. I'm sure that she will explain herself to you. You may not get her to shut up.

There was indeed a surprise in the parlor!

"Who is it?" exclaimed Pamela in utter surprise.

"You mean what is it" said Donna open- mouthed. "Is it a girl, or an it"

"I'm a girl! Can't, you tell? How can I be an it?" came the young voice.

"Well you don't look old enough to be a girl, pumpkin," laughed Donna. "Besides, what are you doing hanging by your ankles from a ceiling hook?

You're really quite exposed with your little dress hanging 'round your head, y'know!"

"Well, I am a girl and I'm not that young, I'm eleven and I'm hanging like this because I got bad grades at primary school again and I deserve it and.I'm Ravan's daughter and my name is Kiki and I'm not really exposed, I have panties on as you can see and I'm gonna get caned again for my grades and I deserve that too and mother is going to cane me in front of her bridge club and I suppose you too and it's the very first time I've been caned in front of anyone else and everyone's gonna see my underpants and me howling and mother says I'm old enough to be caned in front of others now and it makes me feel tingly and I think my pants are wet right now and you look all upside down to me but I can see you haven't a stitch on which means you're girls from Avondale and all full of rings again which I think is gorgeous in a girl and I wish I was old enough to be ringed but someday I will because mother promised and how can you serve if you're all hooked together by your pretty noses and…"

"Hold it! Whoa! Crikey, you're like a parrot!" laughed Pamela. "You mean Ravan canes you, Kiki? You're awfully young for that."

"Am not. Been caned for a year now. How old does a girl have to be? Bet it hurts you no more than me. Mother told me you were coming, says you two are in love. How can girls be in love? It's only boys, at school."

"It's easy, funny face. You'll find out when you get older," said Donna.

"Will you stop with the 'older' bit!" said Kiki.

"All right, so I don't have any hair on my puss yet.

What's so great about that? I do get wet pants sometimes thinkin' about things and looking at mother's sexy mags."

"You're something else, Kiki," laughed Pamela.

"You are really something else! Now you just hang there and jabber away, but we've got work to do.

By the way, what's those words on your little pants? They're all upside down."

"Says, Souvenir of Majorca. We went there last year on vacation."

The three women arrived shortly and were shown into the den by Ravan. Pamela and Donna timed their entrance with wine trays with the comfortable seating of all four of the older women.

They were well aware of the drawn-in breaths they created.

"Divine, Ravan. Simply divine, as usual."

"Even more lovely than last month. Aren't they precious!"

"Simply ravishing!"

The two girls served the wine, careful not to stray too far apart and earn a painful tug in the nose. They curtsied before each guest and allowed the women to finger their nipple-rings with admiration. The women were not really that old, perhaps in their thirties, and quite elegant in their fine dresses.

"There's simply nothing so attractive on young ladies as rings," one said. "Ravan, your locking pin idea is utterly marvelous. Come here, dear," she said to Pamela. "There's really not much nipple left, is there, honey?"

"Not very much, ma'm," answered Pamela.

"More brass than nipple, I'm afraid, yet I'm sure that my nipples could hold even more. Just so long as there's the outside skin left. Thank you ma'm."

"Oh, she's just precious!" gushed the woman.

"You train them so wonderfully."

"Thank you, Phillipa," said Raven quite flattered. "Now, as I've promised you, I'm going to cane Kiki before we start the bridge. Her grades have been most dreadful, I'm afraid, and perhaps a sound caning in front of others will have some effect on her. Girls, please get Kiki for me."

"Excellent idea, Ravan," said one guest. "Wish

I had started with my Susan before she grew up so fast. Nothing beats the old-time tradition."

"I have one just nine," said another. "I'm defi- nitely going to start in a couple of years. Good for a girl."

Kiki was brought in in the tow of the two girls.

Ravan asked her to lie over the card table, and bound her ankles and wrists to the metal legs.

"I'm afraid a card table really isn't the best" said Ravan. "It bounces around so when she jumps, but it'll have to do."

Ravan pulled Kiki's skirt up and bunched it around her waist. Kiki's little panties fit, her perfectly. Ravan presented the cane to Kiki's lips and the youngster kissed it.

"I deserve to be caned, dear mother. I think ten strokes would bring my grades up. No, eleven, to match my age. Very hard, of course. It's very hard for me to know that others are watching, and t,hat they can see my panties completely, but perhaps it will take some humiliation to get the message across."

Pamela and Donna were speechless. Words like this from an eleven-year-old?

"Ravan, Kiki is just precious. So well trained," said a guest. "And at so impressionable an age.

You should be proud of her."

"Ready, Kiki?" said Ravan.

"Ready."

The cane whirred and made a sharp crack across a very small bottom. It would have been too much, of course, to expect that so young a creature would withstand the cane with little reaction. Kiki reacted.

"Wowee!" she wailed, and wiggled the whole card table.

The second cut made her head snap backwards.

Kiki was never without something to say.

"Oww! That was a corker! Burns like all get out!"

The eleven strokes were delivered without anger, and without hurry. Kiki thrashed and uttered some type of comment after each one, along with appropriate yelps, screams and wails. Her thighs and legs were wet with perspiration from the hurt. One could see clearly through her thin nylon pants and the perfect blue-red welts were very visible. Even as Ravan untied her, and made her once more kiss the cane, the precocious child uttered another of her unending comments.

"Well, anyway, the panties helped. Hate to be caned bare-assed!"

Kiki's pants, of course, had been no aid, and Pamela and Donna laughed at the girl's flippancy.

She was something else! Yet, they held a sincere admiration for Kiki. Eleven strokes of the cane, at her age, was incredible! Pamela and Donna had only had five and had thought that they would faint. Now here was this miraculous moppet taking eleven on a bottom that you could almost hold in your hands, and came up making jokes!

Kiki was not really old enough to turn her on yet, but Pamela had felt the tingly feeling again during the caning, especially when Ravan had brought her slim hips up off the card table with most of the strokes. She might be fun to play with at that!

Kiki left. The muffin hadn't even cried tears!

Pamela and Donna went about their duties as the card game progressed and did not mind at all the occasional pat,s on the rump or feel of a breast.

After all, that's what those lovely pieces of anatomy were there for. Phillipa and Carry had lost and Pamela and Donna were most interested when the two, without a word, had peeled off their blouses and put their hands behind their chairs to be bound by the two winners.

Pamela and Donna had never seen nipple-screws, but they had heard of them. They were ancient devices, born in the medieval period, for the ultimate hurt of female nipples. It was assumed that there were few left in existence, but it would be correct to guess that there were still a few about. They watched spellbound as Ravan and her partner at bridge applied the punishment of "pen- alty bridge."

The devices were iron clamps which were tightened by a small strew-head. At first there was no reaction from the two losers at bridge, then suddenly their heads fell backwards and their nostrils flared. There were no cries of pain, or loud moans, but there were whispered "ohhhhs." When the nipple flesh began to protrude through the hollow opening of the circular metal, the women whisked their hair from side to side. Yet still the two winners turned the screws. The tortured nipples squeezed out of the clamps like wet clay, fully an inch long now. Ravan and her partner still turned the screws with no particular expression on their faces, small droplets of blood now oozing from under the metal. The two women thrashed in their chairs and now their throats gave forth with the howl of an animal.

"We'll have tea now, girls," said Ravan to Pamela and Donna. "You'll have to serve it to their mouths, I'm afraid. They do have to stay like this for an hour."

Pamela and Donna were in a state of utter numbness, their sex shamefully wet, but somehow they got themselves moving again. They brought back the tea with Kiki happily trodding beside them.

The moppet had no reaction at all to the tortured nipples she saw.

"Oh, good! You've won at bridge again, mother!

You're ever such a good player."

"Thank you, Kiki. By the way, Pamela and Donna are done serving now. I think it would be nice if they took you up to their room and taught you a few things. You're getting old enough now to begin understanding things. You'll find them excellent teachers. Girls, take Kiki upstairs. She's yours for the night. Anything goes, of course, but do your hurting things before twelve please. I'm a light sleeper and I don't want to hear her yelling after I go to bed. You'll find all the things you might need in the top bureau drawer. Kiki, be a good girl now."

Pamela and Donna looked at each other. Pamela said, "Geez."

Pamela and Donna led Kiki by the hand to the bedroom, and explored the miscellaneous items in the bureau drawer. The ceiling had hooks, as did most of Ravan's rooms.

"Well, snippet," said Pamela, "the first thing we better do with you is teach you that you're a girl rather than an it. Strip, 'cept for your pants."

"Ho hum," said Kiki, and peeled off her clothes.

Kiki was hung like a turkey from the ceiling hook by her thumbs, and the two sat down to watch her squirming antics.

"Never knew girls were hung by their thumbs," said Kiki. "Hey, I've been up here for a few minutes now, 'bout time for this game to end, isn't it?"

"You see!" said Donna. "A real girl can hang by her thumbs all night without fussing. You're just an it. Let's see, Pamela, I think the nipple screws might not work. She just hasn't got much nipple to work with. Those clothespins might do fine, though."

The springy clothespins stuck out like beacons on Kiki's dainty breast tips.

"Whoops," piped Kiki, "makes me know I've got nipples, doesn't it! Very clever."

"Perhaps just two across her back with the whip," said Donna.

Pamela swung and the whip made a delightful crack across the slim back. A pink streak appeared on a long diagonal direction.

"Ow," said Kiki. "Rather uncomfortable.". The second lash crossed the first making a per- fect X on her bare back. Kiki swung her face from side to side in pain.

"Only eighteen to go, muffin," teased Pamela.

"Real girls can take twenty without much fuss." Kiki pondered.

"Oh, okay, you win. Guess I'm not a girl after all, just an it. Don't really think I can take any more of a whip. Darn it, growing up is so slow.

Teach me to be a girl. I surrender."

Kiki was released and her clothespins removed.

"On the bed, kitty-cat," said Pamela, "and take those silly little panties off! Souvenir of Majorca, of all things! Girl games are played bare butt, y'know."

Kiki flung her pants across the room, trying to hit the chair, but missed. Pamela and Donna bounced onto the bed beside Kiki and spread her legs.

"Well. What.now?" chirped Kiki. "All I can see is a bunch of nipples and pussies everywhere I look. What's so great about that'?"

Pamela bent to her task.

"Hey," squeaked Kiki, "what the heck are you doing, Pamela, stop licking me down there, that doesn't do much for me, girls aren't supposed to lick like kittens, this is so silly, how can girls make love, they don't have a 'thing' to stick into a girl like boys do and what's your tongue supposed to do, turn me on or something, Donna, slop sucking on my nipples, Pamela, don't lick so hard down

there, it simply won't do anything for me, well, it does feel a little bit nice at that and I suppose you'll want me to do that to you next and I'll do it, to be nice but I don't see the point and I feel awful funny and tingly and wet but if you think that it's turning me on you've got another think coming, there's just no way that it w…"

The parrot had stopped chirping. The next sound she made was a very long moan. It was the only adult sound she had made all evening.

"Well, we just might have a girl here after all,

Donna," said Pamela. "What do you think?"

"She has possibilities," said Donna.

"Hey, I think I'm a girl," said Kiki. "Donna, when you do it to me can I put my hands in your hair, there's really nothing to do with my hands."

"You do just that, pumpkin," smiled Donna.

Chapter Eight

The "Game" was played twice a year. Once in early summer, and again in the fall, both times on warm sunny days, for the "Game" was played out- doors. The "Game" came as no surprise to the newer girls, for it was much discussed ahead of time by some of the more senior inmates, and made to sound terribly exciting; It, was definitely the most interesting event of the year.

The "Game" was similar to the perennial "capture the flag" game played by children in school grounds and lawns. The rules, of course, had been made much more sophisticated at Avondale, and much, much more adult and erotic. In "capture the flag" there are two teams, each trying to first find, then obtain, the flag of the other team. That basic format was still used in Pamela's "Game." But children would not play by Avondale rules, nor would they understand it.

The "Game" was really quite simple. The ten girls would be divided into two teams of five each.

One team had their. headquarters in the old school barn at the rear of the main building, and the other team was headquartered in a shed which adjoined the barn. The playing field was all of Avondale's eight acres of grounds and ten acres of woods.

Each team hid their flag in a secretive place some- where on the grounds, and the game ended when one team captured the other team's flag, of course.

Two girls on each team remained at their head- quarters. They were known as the "torturers." The other three girls on each team were known as the

"soldiers" and they went out into the woods and grounds with a distinct purpose. Their job was to try and find a soldier of the opposite team, to fight her, bind her, and bring her back to headquarters.

Naturally they tried to avoid capture themselves, either by careful stalking in the woods, or by being able to beat an enemy soldier in the ensuing fight if contact was made. Girls on one team wore only white panties, while girls on the other wore pink pants to eliminate confusion. Teams were chosen weeks ahead of time, and pep rallies were held as well as bulletin board signs made, promising victory by the "pink pants" over the "white pants" and vice versa, Allegiance was at an extreme, members of one team often taunting members of the other team in the hallways for days before the

"Game" was scheduled, and promising total victory. But it was all in fun, and the girls were still the best of friends and slept with each other, naturally.

When a soldier was captured by an opposing soldier and brought back to headquarters, the torturers took over. Their job, of course, was to force t,he captive to reveal where the team flag was secreted. The torturers had free reign, and nothing was forbidden in their attempt to make the captive talk.

There was an incentive, naturally. The winning team would have their penal term at Avondale reduced by one month! This was indeed a significant reward, for although Avondale inmates learned to accept the whippings, the punishments and the confinements within the walls, they all longed to get home. At home were parents, loved ones, boys, movies, TV, dates, cars and freedom to choose whether or not they wished to be slaves.

Few would deny that Avondale had turned them into sensuous young women, and had taught them the pleasures of punishment and the delights of lesbian love. Few would regret their experiences and, to a girl, they would be thankful that Avon- dale had shown them a whole new way of life for their futures and had opened up untold erotic pleasures. They would be the elite of young womanhood. Yet, six or eight or ten months had accomplished this probably, and the remaining sentence was quite redundant and frustrating. A month of early release was Utopia!

To this end, the torturers represented hope for all the other girls on their team and they would try their best to wring a confession out of their victim.

Their team members depended on them! On the other side of the coin, a captive would do her best to withstand all that was done to her, for to "talk" was to let her team down and subject them to an extra month of servitude! Her teammates would not forgive her!

The philosophy of the "Game" was purposeful under Avondale's training guidelines, and was played for a reason. The "Game" taught the girls to learn to torture other girls without sympathy, thereby developing a necessary cruel sadism as part of their total personality. It also taught the girls a dedicated allegiance and responsibility to their teammates and thus to try and withstand the worst of tortures on their behalf. Lastly, it taught the girls to do their utmost to avoid capture and the resulting agony, by learning to fight in hand to hand combat with an "enemy" girl and doing one's best to use their fists to beat the other girl to the ground. To capture was much less painful than to be captured!

Over the years various headmistresses of Avondale had added new rules to make the "Game" more interesting. As it stood now, little could be added to improve upon it. The girls no longer wore their rings in the game, for they would only interfere with the torture ideas of purely naked bodies.

Additionally now, only one enemy soldier was re- quired to be captured by each side. The soldiers stayed out until one of the enemy was taken prisoner. When one on each side had been captured the other soldiers came back to headquarters to watch the torture. It was now a rule that the torture of one soldier could not begin until it began on her opposite player. In this manner then, no team could get a headstart on the other, and the game was simply then a torture contest in opposing headquarters, starting at the same moment.

The placing of opposing headquarters in adjacent barns with open windows was not by accident but by design — for each team could then clearly hear the screams of their own team member under torture, urging them of course to greater and swifter efforts on their own captive! The game could end swiftly, or it could go on for great lengths of time, depending on the courage and dedication of the victims. For the most part, the games did not end quickly, for the resolve on the part of the victims was quite intense considering what winning the game meant to her and her team- mates who trusted her so. There had been times when the torture had gone on into the evening and night" but normally an hour or so would break the average girl.

The tortures permitted thus on these twice-a- year occasions were far beyond what, the girls accepted as part of training in Avondale, and that was why the game was played only these two times each year. They were not enjoyable for the hapless captive, and no girl wished to be taken prisoner by any means! This led to frantic and terrible fights in the woods when two opposite soldiers met, and often the damage was great. For only these two times a year, the girls on opposing teams were not friends. The reward was just too great. Yet, the next day, because of the beautiful training of love they had learned at Avondale, the "Game" was forgotten by the losers as well as the winners. In fact, it was tradition that a tortured girl would sleep with her torturer for several days in order to renew their love and affection, and usually even on the first night the two loved and kissed in complete forgiveness. Each understood the rules of the "Game" and if their roles had been reversed, the hurt girl would have done the same to the other in eager enthusiasm and skill. Many times when the torturer had fallen into bed with the girl she had hurt so terribly that very day, she cried for what she had done. That was the peculiar nature of females, yet during the passion of torture, a female becomes aroused by hurting another girl and could go to endless lengths and for endless hours of self-pleasure. Girls understood this in each other; accepted it and expected it totally from each other.

It was, of course, the Ultimate Feminine Game of all time, for it pitted the will of one female against another. In a sense, it had been played a million times since the beginning of man in various and diverse ways by females of all times and all lands. The script was timeless. It had been played in the dark jungles of Africa where dusky girls had been tied to trees and tortured by females of an enemy tribe in retribution. It had been played in the dark middle ages in dungeons and inquisitions where young women were tortured by other young women, selected because a female was better suited and more skilled at wringing confessions from another female. It had been played in Victorian times when sophisticated ladies were publicly flogged by a female magistrate or acolyte.

It had been played in modern times in college sorority houses in many nations, where innocent young- pledges were stripped and whaled with leather paddles on virginal bottoms until they agreed to submit to sexual submission to their big sisters.

And it was still played at Avondale.

The selection of teams was perfectly fair each time the "Game" was played. Teams were drawn by lot, without regard to roommates or lovers.

Roommates sometimes were on the same team, sometimes not, as the draw would have it. It was only fair, of course. Naturally, then, it had happened on a few occasions that one roommate actually found herself having to torture the other, for the torturers and soldiers on each team were also drawn by lot. On these odd occasions it made the game much more interesting for in many cases the two girls were much in love and they had married.

However, the torture of one wife or roommate by the other was performed with the same fervor and skill as it would have been on any other girl. It was part of playing the game fairly. Besides, any easing of methods or intensity would be readily observed by the other team members who would be watching, and they would hold the torturer in serious contempt and disfavor. After all, it was their sentences she was responsible for!

As it happened, Pamela and Donna found themselves on the same side by the luck of the draw.

They were very pleased, of course, for it meant not only would they be together, but it dispelled any possibility of circumstances forcing one of them having by chance to torture the other in the game.

Their luck was extremely good, for at the meeting of their five-girl team in the library they also drew the two lowest numbers which allowed them to be their team's two torturers. They were ecstatic.

The two teams gathered in their adjacent barns at two in the afternoon, to begin play.

"Okay, kittens," said Pamela to the three soldiers in white panties. "Get going and find us a pair of pink pants. We'll make her talk, you can count on it. Donna and I planned some delightful ideas last night! Be careful, darlings, don't get caught, and fight like hell if you have to."

All five of the girls exchanged kisses for luck, and Donna and Pamela smacked them lovingly on the seat of their pants as they went out. It was like the enthusiasm of a girls' volleyball team! The girls from both teams spread out, into the deep woods and spacious acres of grounds. The flags had been secreted earlier.

Kathy took to the birch and oak trees by the stream, deciding to follow the brooklet's course along the north side of the forest. She was a "white" and she was eager to bring back a "pink" for Pamela and Donna to work on. Kathy was deep brunette and quite tall at five-seven. Her body was slim but strong, and she knew that she had more than an even chance in a fight.

Nothing much occurred for the first half hour, so large were the acres of property. Kathy had seen one girl near a thicket some distance away, but when the girl had emerged along a path Kathy could see white panties. It was near the stone bridge that she had heard a twig snap and ran towards the sound. As she passed a bush, a streak of long brown hair and flashing skin hurled itself at her, knocking her to the ground. The girl had pink pants and her name was Heather. Kathy sprang to her feet.

"Well, if it isn't Heather," said Kathy.

"Hello, Kathy. Looks like we're in for a fight."

"You better believe it, baby, I'm gonna beat hell out of you. No way am I going to get worked on by your two sadist,s and scream my lungs out. You're just a little thing, Heather, and I'm going to make you wish that you hadn't run into me."

Heather was but five feet, so indeed she was small, but she was gutsy. She was a lovely girl, her best asset the incredibly long brown hair she possessed. Heather's tresses hung below her pert bottom, a style more common in the Victorian period than now.

Heather flung herself at Kathy and the two fell to the dirt in a tangle of flying arms and legs.

Squeals and squeals came by the dozen as two females met in combat. Nails flashed and hands became entangled in hair. Heather tried to stand up and kick, but Kathy grabbed her by the waist- band of her panties and the thin garment ripped from her bottom.

Females, like men, felt the heat of combat. The eyes of the two girls flashed in anger at each other.

Kathy felt the raw passion, female battle, and Heather's total nudity aroused her emotions. She stripped off her own pants to better enjoy the pleasure of totally naked encounter, and her throat purred like a leopard about to attack. Her fist caught Heather on the cheek and the girl dropped with a thud directly on her bare buttocks.

"Get up, baby, and I'll knock you on your ass again!" said Kathy.

Heather shrieked like a panther and flew at

Kathy, fists flying. Kathy felt t,he blood running from a split lip and it aroused her greatly. Girls in battle are a curious marvel for, like animals, the taste of blood arouses passions and sexual emotion. It was for that reason that Romans enjoyed the spectacle of women gladiators in the arena, or even more, two Christian girls forced to fight each other wit,h bare fists.

Both Heather and Kathy could feel the burning in their clits from sheer naked combat as they smashed fists into each other. If it were possible to see within their sex lips at that moment, one would have found erect and quivering clitorises. Kathy was.proving too much for Heather. The smaller girl had been knocked down over and over, her lips and nose bleeding badly, her eyes stinging with tears. At last she could not get up, kneeling on all fours, and shaking her head in hurt. Kathy hadn't had enough, however, and pulling the help- less girl up to her feet by her long hair, she sent a final fist into Heather's face. Heather collapsed at

Kathy's feet and like a whipped dog, licked Kathy's dusty toes.

"I've had enough, Kath. You've hurt me awfully, you know. I can't fight anymore." Heather stood up and put her hands behind her to be tied.

"Got a better idea for you, pussycat," smiled the victor. "Don't think I'll need a rope at all."

Kathy took Heather's long tresses and twisted the bottom into a braid. She pulled down on the hair as far as it would go, forcing Heather's head f straight back, and ran the braid up between the girl's legs. Centering the hair between Heather's sex lips, Kathy pulled it up into the wetness as tightly as possible and tied Heather's wrists in front of her with the barely remaining inches of hair. The braid was so tight that it; disappeared for some length in Heather's pussy. Kathy clapped in glee at f.he workability of her bondage idea.

"You're probably the only chick in history to get pussy cream on her own hair!" laughed Kathy, obviously delighted with her victory. "Well, let's get you back to our camp. How's your screaming ability?"

"You won't get me to tell where our flag is," said

Heather. "By the way, who's your torturers?"

"Pamela and Donna," snapped Kathy, "and they have some fun things planned for you. They'll make you wish you weren't female!"

Kathy tied a rope around Heather's neck and began the walk back to headquarters, pulling her captive behind. Heather's tie kept her head fully back and she could but look into the sky as she stumbled along.

Pamela and Donna squealed in joy as they saw

Kathy drag Heather towards the barn. Ravan also was on hand as the official referee for the two headquarters and she smiled at Kathy's unique bondage on Heather.

"Marvelous, Kathy!" she exclaimed. "Well done. The pink team hasn't captured one of your girls yet so you'll have to wait to begin Heather's tortures. Meanwhile, why don't you amuse yourself with Heather in the barn. I'll let you know when to begin the questioning."

In the large barn Heather was untied and she was relieved to have her head back in its normal position.

"Well, Pam," said Donna, "we've got some time to kill. Shall we see how good Heather is with her tongue?"

"Big deal," snorted Heather. "All three of you, I suppose. I can eat three pussies without breathing hard."

"Who said anything about. pussies?" smiled

Donna. "I know of a better place!"

Heat.her blanched a pale white. "Oh, no. Not t.here. Never licked a girl there. No way!"

Donna shrugged. "Kathy, guess Heather needs some more beating on. How about some more fist sandwiches?"

"No, wait," pleaded Heather. "Don't let Kath at me again. Damn, can she punch. Don't want to lose my teeth. I'll do it."

"You go first, Kath," said Donna. "After all, you captured her."

Kathy squealed in pleasure and bent herself over a heavy plank work table, spreading her bottom cheeks apart with her hands. Heather gave a soft moan of submission, knelt on the ground behind Kathy, and sent her tongue to its puckered target.

Maryl came into the barn a short while later.

"Everyone's back. They've captured our Lisa. She put up ever such a good fight from the looks of her face. She's a good girl. She'll hold out. Ravan says that she'll blow her whistle in five minutes to begin torture, and to tie our captive in position to be ready."

Pamela and Donna had built a heavy, oak- planked X-frame for the captive during the forays in the woods, and Heather was neatly tied spread- eagled to it. The X-frame stood in an upright position, having been fastened t,o a barn post. Kathy and Maryl sat on a bench to watch, for they were not allowed to assist according to the rules. But they 'could be cheerleaders! They heard Ravan's whistle. The smiles and banter ended, and faces of dedicated seriousness took over as Pamela and

Donna began to work according to their plans. It began with a pair of shears.

"Was hoping it was you we captured," taunted Pamela. "Mean more to you than any of the others to lose all of your pretty long hair. 'Course you can still keep it if you tell us where your flag is."

There would be no further flippance and com- ments from Heather now that it had started.

Things became too serious for small talk. She said nothing as the shears snapped away, but tears of hurt filled her eyes as she saw her incredible tresses fall to the ground about her feet. There certainly was more than one way to hurt a girl!

They left only a short nub of hair upon Heather's head, shorter even than a boy.

"Smashing!" said the cheerleaders from their bench. But everyone knew that it would take a while to break Heather. A bottle of wine was passed and cigarettes lit in anticipation of the work to be done.

Various things were tried, but Heather had not uttered a sound. Ravan came in occasionally as she made trips between both headquarters to observe the activity.

"Well, Donna," said Pamela, "let's go to Phase Two and get this fluff to open up. Save poor Lisa as much as we can, y'know!"

"Ever felt cigarettes on your nipples, baby?" said Donna. "You're gonna, if you don't fess up right now. Well?"

Heather spit in Pamela's face. It produced no anger or retaliation from Pamela. She simply nodded to Donna and the two girls calmly put their cigarettes against Heather's pink nipples. The X-frame rattled as Heather fought her ropes, and she hissed like a snake. It was done without haste or carelessness. The girls took calm puffs on their cigarettes and then touched the glowing ends to Heather's nipples time and again. Heather was soaked in sweat.

"Well?" said Donna. Heather spit into both faces. Pamela and Donna were glad. It was a lovely challenge.

Suddenly., all of the girls in the barn heard screaming from the adjoining shed. Heather smiled happily.

"Sounds like your girl is gettin' hurt, you bitches. Good! Hope they skin her alive!"

Pamela and Donna did not try to show it, but Lisa's screams bothered them obviously.

"Heather's lost her head hair," said Pamela, "and she looks kinda silly with pussy hair. It's longer than the hair on her head. Looks ridiculous, it seems to me. Maybe we should do something about that."

"We'll give the girl a choice," said Donna.

"Heather, we can pull it out piece by piece if you wish. Takes a while, and should hurt something awful. Or, honey, we can pour brandy on it and light a match to it. It'll really hurt, but of course it will just go 'poof' and be all over with. The choice is yours… or we'll make it for you."

Heather moaned. in her dilemma, but a choice had to be made.

"The brandy," she said in a weak voice. Her bravado had gone.

She closed her eyes. It was indeed a "poof" as the flame flashed hotly. It had only lasted a moment, but Heather's screams came again and again.

"Lovely!" exclaimed Donna. "Look, Heather, you're ten years old again! You'll have to start growing it all over, shame isn't it? Well?"

It was more than Heather had bargained on.

Unfortunately, she had not fully recognise the extent of what females can do to each other at times. Heather was about to nod in submission when several skin-crawling screams came from Lisa next door. It gave Heather hope… and additional courage.

"No." It was a simple word. But it was a para- graph describing the remarkability of girls. It had been said a million times before in dungeons.of all ages.

Pamela and Donna had hoped that they would not have to put the long sewing needles in Heather's breasts. It was a bit much, but Lisa's screams indicated that she was dangerously close to losing the game.

Pamela took the left breast, Donna the right, and sent the first needles through, just behind the aureolas. The ends poked through neatly on the other side.

Heather did not want to look down at her breasts, which were becoming pin cushions, and lay her face on one armpit. It was not the hurt, for after the first four or five, there was only a dull throb anyway. It was just that it was obvious that the needles would be put in endlessly. When her breasts were full, they would begin somewhere else and Heather knew where that place would be.

"Please… no more. I've had it." Heather was crying, not from the hurt, but from losing the "Game" and thus letting down her team,

Pamela, Donna, Kathy and Maryl yelped in glee, and Kathy ran to find Ravan to tell her the game was over. The whites had won!

The miracle of females had not been fully shown during the torture, though it had begun there with courage and dedication and will. The miracle began after the "Game." Heather was untied and fell into the arms of Pamela, sobbing and hugging her.

There was no hate on her part. Pamela and Donna both had moist eyes as they kissed and hugged Heather in return, for their admiration and love for the courage of the girl was intense. They loved her very much for what they had had to do to her.

Yet this beautiful emotion of females began again out in the yard as all of the girls on both sides gathered together, Heather and Lisa fell into each other's arms in love and admiration and understanding. They had been pitted against one another in a contest of agony. They had shared.

Their kisses were many upon tear-stained faces. It mattered not which girl had won or lost.

The ultimate act of the nature of females was yet to happen. As the girls headed back to the school building, Heather sat upon a log and put her head in her hands, weeping. Her four teammates would undoubtedly not have much to do with her.

She felt soft hands on her shoulders and warm lips kissing her wet eyes. All four of her teammates were there.

"We love you very much, Heather. Lots and lots! You suffered for us!"

"Thank you, darling. Do you realize how long you were in there? Almost two hours! You're wonderful!"

"We can do that extra month standing on our heads!"

"Hey, bet your hair grows back in just a couple of months!"

"Hey, what's all this sniffling and crying! Let's see a smile… we love you!"

Heather smiled and she cried all the harder. She hurt nowhere right now! She would go Through it all over again for girls like these! She flung her arms around the first soft, curvy body she found.

Yet another chapter had been written in the miraculous story of Avondale.

Chapter Nine

It was November, and because of a month having been cut from their sentence, Pamela and Donna had but a week more at Avondale. The other girls all had longer sentences and would not be leaving for awhile.

It had been a time of joy for them both, and their lives would never be the same again. Most girls in

England would have boys to look forward to, and a few girls might also find the pleasure of another girl, but few would know the excitement of the

whip and the rope and the rings. It was most unfortunate, for most girls were the same as Pamela and Donna. It was just that they would never have the chance to find out. The roommates had talked about this often. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all girls were required to spend some time in a train- ing school! The two often fantasized about such a world. Imagine, they thought, if each girl carried a lovely little whip in her purse and a piece or two of cord! No telling who one might meet every day on a bus or in a fast-food restaurant. Just a glance of desire between two girls and off they could go to the ladies' powder room for some delightful whipping before returning to their Cokes and French fries. Then just a friendly wave, and off they would go on their separate ways. Or, maybe they'd spend the night together. Perhaps it would be law that a girl had to spend one day with a boy, the next with a girl! Such things are young girls' fantasies made of.

One thing was very clear to Pamela and Donna.

They would stay together and recognize their own "marriage." Perhaps, when they found jobs, their mothers would let them share an apartment in London together. They would go out with boys and an occasional other girl too, for Avondale had removed jealousy beautifully. In fact, they would be delighted for each other when one went out on a date and they would wish each other fun and pleasure. If a boy, they would kid each other and tell each other not to dare come home until taking him in all three places. If a girl, they would kiss the date in sincere friendship, and tell them to have fun together, complimenting on how very cute the date was. It would be a beautiful life, and they would promise daily whippings. Of course they would keep their rings! They would play mistress and slave, taking weekly turns. It would be delightful!

They thought about Jan and Sabrina too. Constantly, now that their time was growing very short. The sexual desire for the two women had increased steadily over the months, which was to be expected.

In Sabrina's case, it was purely a physical thing.

She radiated waves of sex. It was not that Sabrina was lesbian, for she really wasn't. She was happily married with children. But her daily contact and "duties" with naked young girls made it unnatural if she had not grown to enjoy their curves on occasion. She also tortured them, and Sabrina would be a strange female if she had not been aroused by those activities as well, Yet, she never went further than the expected touching of a breast or a brief kiss, and she never proposed making it fully with a girl, even though she undoubtedly wanted to at times. She did her job, and her part in the training, with professionalism and love. It was only on rare occasions that she bedded with a slave.

It was for this very reason that she became so desirable for all of the slave girls. The hardest to get was always the most wanted! Those in the out- side world would not believe that girls would count the days until they could go to Sabrina's section to be tortured. It would seem insane. Yet, not only did the girls go eagerly, they often went early for their appointments, just to be with her and watch her move about the room. It mattered not t.hat they found themselves tied to a post or table and that the lovely nurse was hurting them, nor even that they screamed. They enjoyed smelling her per- fume, feeling her soft hands and looking at her slim legs so nicely revealed by her little skirt. They were pleased when they could see Sabrina's red nipples erecting under her opaque nurses' blouse, and had learned.to moan sexily to keep them that way when being tortured, for Sabrina did respond to hurting girls as any other female would do. If their performance was nice enough, they could often see that Sabrina's panties were a little wet between her legs, and they considered that the highlight of the day to bring her to that point!

With Jan, the situation was different, From the first day when the blonde girl had picked them up in the rain to bring them to Avondale they had slowly but surely fallen in love with her. It would have been impossible not to do so, for Jan was their whole life, and had been so each day. A girl could not be trained and whipped, day in and day out, by a lovely girl like Jan without it happening.

More, they knew that it was literally Jan who had given them the training and had molded their new lives, and they would be eternally grateful for her care and concern. They owed everything to her,and they were in love with her.

The number of times that they had made love to Jan in five months was impossible to recall, They had tasted the girl nearly daily, sometimes several times a day. At first as obedient slaves on command. Then commands weren't necessary as slavery became routine, for like any dedicated slave girls they learned every emotion and desire and habit of their mistress. An experienced slave girl does not have to be told by her master or mistress when her services are needed. A slave girl know when, by a word or the way a master or mistress talks or moves, or by the look of desire in the eyes.

There are signs, and an experienced slave knows them well. And when she sees them, she gives her mouth or her body without having to wait for command.

At other times, a slave can see tiredness, and at these times, Pamela and Donna gave Jan a hot bath and a rubdown, without being told. It was the sign of well-trained slaves. On other times, when Jan was a bit down or sluggish, a good pussy- eating by two tongues at once was given voluntarily and without comment. It brought Jan around, as they knew it would! When Jan's hair needed washing or shampooing or brushing, it was ob- served and done. After Jan had given one or both of them a rather exciting whipping and returned them to their room, they automatically peeled Jan's panty off and hand-washed it at once, for they knew that it was sopping wet, All without being told, for a good slave learns to anticipate and do things without command. When Jan's pubic hair became a little tangly or unruly they trimmed it and kept it short and nice, oiling it with perfume.

They also shaved Jan's underarms and legs every other day.

Jan was most aware of just how beautifully her two slaves had taken to training and slavery. In fact, they just might have been the best pair of young girls that she had ever trained, and she loved them very, very much, Her tongue had not tasted them however, nor had she kissed them. She had kissed in return, of course, but she had yet to initiate a kiss. This was how it had to be when training young girls. A mistress could not allow her own feelings to interfere, for love initiated on her part would only harm proper mistress-slave relationships. Mistresses took, not gave, and slaves were aware of this. They hoped but not expected. They hoped constantly. For to have a mistress initiate lovemaking was the ultimate of a slave's existence. It had been so since time began. If it happened, the slave knew that she had reached such perfection that her mistress had been aroused to a rare condition of love, if even briefly. It did not happen often.

Jan had told them both that they would have to earn her tongue. She had told them that on the very first day, and it had not been elaborated on or mentioned since. It had not been forgotten, how- ever Pamela and Donna had not attempted to do so in any extraordinary way, for they knew not what Jan had meant nor did slave girls dare to ask such personal questions of their mistress. So they just tried to be good slave girls. And they were.

It was on the Wednesday before the Saturday when the two would leave. Donna was swimming with Ginny.and Tricia, and Pamela was resting on her bed reading when Jan had come in to get her freshly washed clothes. Pamela had been thinking about Jan all day, and how she would miss her It had been so beautiful to be in slavery to another female, and of course she would miss Jan's lovely whippings too. After lunch, Pamela had gone to the whipping suite and borrowed the Angel's Kiss.

Jan glanced twice at her slave on the bed. Pamela was naked, and was not wearing her rings. It was a breach of rules.

"Slave, you're only naked for torture from Sabrina, for swimming, or in the whipping suite!" she said. "Where's your panties, heels and stock- ings?.And your rings! Just what do you think you're doing?"

"My goodness, how careless of me," said Pamela in a funny voice. "Guess I'll have to be whipped, won't I? You'll find the Angel's Kiss on my dresser, mistress. I've been much too careless just to have my bottom and back whipped. Appears to me like I need to have my tits and cunt punished."

Jan said nothing, for she was taken aback. She knew' Pamela well by now, and this was just not Pamela. As she walked to the dresser, she felt a tingle that she had never felt before with Pamela.

When she turned back to the bed she found Pamela kneeling, her hands back on her ankles, her breasts thrust nicely outwards for whipping!

"Where's some rope, slave?"

"You won't need any, mistress. I won't move.

Whip me untied, please."

Jan tingled again. Girls rarely asked to be whipped unbound for it was a,near-impossible act of dedication and conviction. When a girl reached that point in life, she needed no further training!

"Whip my breasts, mistress. They are yours," said Pamela softly.

The Angel's Kiss whined and smacked across both breasts. They bounced wildly. Pamela did not move, nor did she make a sound of any kind.

Jan whipped her breasts hard, hitting the nipples most of the time, yet still Pamela did not utter a gasp or a moan. Instead, she just looked into Jan's eyes with love. Jan knew then that she could whip

Pamela's breasts all night and the girl would not move. Jan's pants became wet. She stopped the breast;whipping;

Pamela responded by putting her hands under her hips and spreading her legs wide and high, towards the ceiling. Jan moaned in emotion from what she saw. Pamela's clitoris was flushed and erect from the punishment.

Pamela had arrived. She had joined her ancient

Roman and Arabian sisters whose clits had risen to the feel of the whip in harems and whipping posts and courtyards. It was the ultimate level of femininity that could be achieved. Punishment had become pleasure..Screams would still come from most, but that was only a natural response to pain and unimportant. An erect clitoris was the gauge of the female.

Pamela, however, did not cry out from the searing lashes into her sex. She continued to look lovingly at her mistress, and did not flinch when she saw Jan's arm rise and fall, rise and fall. The tenth lash deep between her sex lips made her orgasm, but even then she did not cry out or move a muscle.

She did close her eyes momentarily and gave a whispered gasp, the only sign that Jan could per- ceive that told of her climax, That, and of course the trickles of liquid that ran down her stomach.

Jan was stunned. The girl had not even moved during a wrenching climax!

Jan screamed in passion and threw her whip across the room, before flinging herself on Pamela.

Pamela felt her kisses on her mouth, then on the aching nipples, then between her legs and into her wet sex. Jan moaned like an animal as she attacked Pamela with wild frenzy.

This time Pamela did cry out in orgasm. Her world spun in delirious happiness.

"Pamela, oh Pam darling, I love you so!" cried

Jan. It was the first and only time that Jan had called her by her first name without adding the word "slave" to it. "As a mistress, this shouldn't happen, and when I leave this room, it won't hap- pen again but… right now… I love you. Forgive me."

Pamela held her close and wept. "It's okay, darling. It's okay. I understand… just this once.

Turn round and we'll sixty-nine."

Much later after Jan had gone, Pamela still lay on her bed in rapture. She had earned her mistress' tongue. The world saw such things rarely!

The night before they were to leave was spent in tearful goodbyes and tender hugs and kisses. They would never forget the other eight and all promised to write and visit. They had not been idle promises, for they would be kept. They even kissed t,he other four mistresses, who they had not had much dealing with but of course saw every day. It was short- ly after ten when Sabrina came to their room. It was a singular thrill, not only to see her, but be- cause Sabrina went home normally to her family at five. She had brought a bottle of champagne with her.

They talked of many things and held hands on the bed, the girls thanking her for her part in the training they had received.

"We know you t,tortured us 'Brina, but it was your job, and we know now that we needed it to be women. Thank you for hurting us," said Donna.

Such a remark would have been deemed insane outside Avondale. But of course, others just simply didn't know.

"I've come to tell you about the branding," said Sabrina lovingly.

"We know," said Pamela.

They had thought about the branding often. In the early weeks it had seemed so cruel and unneces- sary, and something definitely not looked forward to. But that was before their lives had been so beautifully changed.

"A century ago," said Sabrina with her arms on the girls' shoulders, "girls in every training school in England were branded at graduation ceremonies without exception. It was considered proper, for it is the mark of a finished product. Remember too that England had dozens and dozens of training schools at that time and they were not reformitories such as Avondale is now. They were just grooming schools for young ladies, and every girl in England would give her right arm to be enrolled.

It was an honor for the reason you have just learned here over the past five months. A girl came out a very desirable and total young woman. It's a shame such schools are gone. Every girl would be much better to have learned to live the lives you will now lead. Remember also that girls were as young as thirteen back then, yet they too were ringed and branded by their own choosing. Back then, to have a training school brand was the ultimate compliment for a girl, and she spent the next ten years showing it off! Girls were branded on the bottom cheeks at graduation in front of their admiring and proud mothers."

Pamela and Donna tingled from the excitement of Sabrina's historical resume! Wouldn't it be great if thousands of young women were still branded today!

"Later, things changed in society, and branding was not made mandatory, but it has always been a part of Avondale's tradition. The brand of Avon- dale still means a great deal to many people in

England," continued Sabrina. "In modern times, branding is optional with the paroled girl. She may choose it or not. If she does, she must sign a paper, in case authorities would possibly question it later on. I am responsible for the branding, in my laboratory. Unlike the old days, parents or other girls are not in attendance. Furthermore, I apply a painkilling salve at once.

"Despite all the modern things we use on the girls today, the branding has not changed. It is the one tradition kept pure. It is still done with a hot branding iron as it, has been done since days of ancient Persia. It could be done these days with an electric iron, or a form of electric tattoo, but the custom is like the whip. It never changes. A female should feel the iron fresh from hot coals.

"A girl today may have the choice of being branded on her buttocks, or on her breasts. Breast branding began in 1931 by a headmistress who found, through study of old historical books, that breast-branding was normal from Babylonian days clear up through the fifteenth century. So, it was begun again. On one breast or bottom cheek is branded the word Avondale. On the other, the year of 'graduation'. The decision is yours. I will tell you that some girls elect to be branded, some do not. I will not tell you the proportion for it would sway your decision possibly. Whatever you choose, it will not make me think better of you, or worse. I love you two very much, Pamela and Donna, and will not change my feeling whichever way you decide. Would you like an hour to think about it? It will be done tomorrow morning, just before you leave."

"We know our decision already, 'Brina," said Pamela. "It was made two weeks ago. We wish to be branded on our breasts."

Sabrina smiled. "I knew what your decision would be. I don't often make mistakes in judging girls here. When a girl makes that decision, I feel a deep love for her. I know by looks and vibes when a girl wants me in bed. I've seen it in your eyes, both of you, since you first came. If you would have looked beyond my mini-skirt and took time out from making cow-eyes at me you would have seen that I've wanted to make it with you also. Both of you. This is not true for all the girls. You two are special. As you can see, I've brought my overnight, bag. Your decision was important. If you had chosen not to be branded, I would not have spent the night in your bed. I felt you would. That is why I told my husband I would be sleeping with two precious girls tonight. For the first time, I also told my little daughter. She knows not what it means, but I saw no reason to lie about my absence to night. She'll understand in a few years."

Pamela and Donna were spinning in joy. A night in bed with Sabrina!

"Geez, 'Brina. Donna and I used to wet our pants. just dreaming about making it with you. I'm going to need some of that champagne! But why was our decision that important, darling?"

Sabrina said nothing, but unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it back. On her beautiful breasts was emblazoned Avondale… 1968.

Nothing needed to be said. It was all there. Skirt and panties followed Sabrina's blouse to the floor. Little sleep was had that night by any of the three.

The two girls found that Sabrina, wife and mother of three, was very much qualified to handle them both endlessly!

Normally girls were branded alone, except in the case of "marriage." Thus it was that Pamela and Donna went together to the lab the next morning at ten, holding hands all the way.

Sabrina was prepared, and in the center of the room, an antique brazier glowed brightly with its red coals. The iron had been inserted at eight. The two were tied to posts facing each other, but it was more than the usual tie. Sabrina knew from experience that a girl had to be tied perfectly immobile to be branded. Any sudden movement when the brand was applied could affect her careful placing of the branding iron. The girls were bound at ankles, knees, thighs, waist, armpits and, behind the post, wrists and elbows, "Sorry, darlings," said Sabrina. "Can't have you move when it hurts. Also have to gag you, I'm afraid, You know I like screams from a girl, but your screams will be wild and I never know when one might may my hand jerk or something.

"Mind?"

"No, 'Brina. But can you do us one brand at n time?" asked Pamela. "I mean, Avondale on a tit of both of us, then 1972. Be nicer than doing one of us completely, then the other girl!"

"Be glad to, honey," said Sabrina. "I think that's sweet of you."

"Cor, I don't think I've ever seen two girls more in love than you two! Here come the gags… open wide."

The gags were put in place and Sabrina withdrew the Avondale branding iron from the coals.

"It goes just below your nipples, kittens. That way you can wear low-cut blouses and bikini swim- tops without the brand showing. You first, Pam."

Pamela was glad Sabrina had tied her so completely. Her brain was stunned as the bran.d sank into her breast with a searing response. She bit her gag. Donna had her turn, and despite her pain, Pamela looked to see the branding of her loved one.

She watched in total love. 1972 followed, on the left breast of both. Sabrina stood back to admire her perfect placement. Pamela and Donna were looking into each other's eyes with total love. They once again had shared something which only made their love even deeper. This time the ultimate mark of slavery.

Sabrina applied the salve, which helped tremendously. When they were untied, they held each other close, their aching breasts melded against one another's. Then they kissed Sabrina in love and admiration before exploring, with fingertips. the red-black words which were now part of them for life.

Content

Unknown
Return to Avondale

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine