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.