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,