Julie Moreland squealed in ultimate submission and threw herself into her task. First it was her mistress, and then Sondra and Stacy, and Victoria once again. When she had finished, she was quite little expert in the art of girlability.
Saturday morning breakfast was delightfull
Victoria in her crisp white shorts and sweater,and the two servants in their attractive outfits were lovely contrast to Julie who ate her cereal clad only in ankle chains. Her pixie face radiated happiness
"I really feel like a… woman this morning
Mistress."
"You are a woman, Julie," said Victoria. "Vi much so, now."
"What are the games this morning, Mistress asked Julie. "Do I get some more to eat after my cereal?"
"Afraid not, Julie," smiled Victoria. "I'm quite worn out from your efforts all night long. You g‹ me little sleep, you know. I think your cereal have to suffice this morning. We are going to play thumb-hang, though. I want to see if you can break the record set by Sondra. One hour and eight minutes."
It was a lovely morning to play thumb-hang out- doors, and Victoriaa selected the oak tree branch.
"I think you'd look terribly pretty if you wore the clothespins on your nipples, Julie, while you hang. Here, put them on yourself while I find some thumb cord."
Julie was, on this her second day, well into the delights of sophisticated bondage, and she snapped the wooden pins onto her nipples without hesitation. Stacy and Sondra held hands as the tyke was pulled upwards. Arousement was begin- ning quite early on this warm morning. It would be another exciting day, it appeared. Victoria left to read the paper, and for Stacy and Sondra, it was the breakfast dishes and a kitchen cleanup. They returned in an hour to check the progress of the young slave and her assault on the Briargate thumb-hang record. Julie hung quietly, her impish face nestled forward on her chest. Her nipples, within the forceful confines of the clothespins, were swollen slightly as would be expected.
At an hour and a half, Julie finally began to squirm a bit, and at two hours and eleven minutes she spoke her first words.
"Well, guess that's probably it, Mistress. I'm hurting quite a bit now. If it wasn't for the darn clothespins on my nipples I think I could make at least another hour. But…"
"Very good, Julie!" exclaimed Victoria. "A new record for Briargate. Sorry, Sondra."
Sondra pouted. "Well, of course Julie is just a little thing. Not much weight there at all Oh, heck, congratulations, Julie!"
It was a great day. Julie finally went home in late afternoon, very much now a young lady, and infatuated with the delights of submission and slavery. The game would be repeated on another weekend, Victoria had promised, and it would be.
What started out to be a perfect day ended in total misery at Briargate. The first indication of trouble came during John and Victoria Palmer's late-afternoon cocktail hour. Even in the kitchen
Stacy and Sondra could hear them arguing. Not only that, but they heard Victoria crying, and shortly thereafter their mistress ran weeping up to her room. The servants threw down their dish towels and ran up to the master bedroom for, after all, consoling their mistress was indeed a primary duty.
Victoria lay sobbing on the bed. Stacy stroked her hair and Sondra dabbed at her wet cheeks with a handkerchief, waiting patiently for her to speak.
When it came, it was total disaster.
"My husband has decided to transfer your ser- vice to his business partner and wife in Birming- ham. Owes them a financial favor, it seems.
Middle-aged couple, not at all attractive. You go next week!" Suddenly, Victoria began to wail help-
1essly. "Oh, I love you both so… I can't bear it…
I argued and pleaded… but husbands have the last say in the South… Oh!… there's nothing I can do… I shall just die without you!"
Stacy and Sondra collapsed into the arms of
Victoria, their world crushed. Their wails joined
Victoria's, and it was a symphony of grief. Later, in their room, Stacy and Sondra wept for hours.
Until after midnight. That's when Stacy got the idea. She explained it to Sondra, and the two hugged and kissed each other in total happiness.
The next morning they went into the fruit"cellar to put their plan into effect, after gathering the necessary items. It took perseverance to keep their secret quiet, but they managed, and uttered only muffled sounds which could not be heard upstairs.
Naturally, they performed their task on each other.
They found Victoria sitting disconsolately by the pool.
"What are you two looking so happy for this morning?" she said. "I thought you loved me?"
"We do love you, darling," beamed Stacy.
"That's why we're happy! As of right now, Sondra and I resign from domestic service, as is our right.
We quit! We won't go to Birmingham. Instead, we are going into voluntary slave-service as is also our right by law. Under voluntary slave-service we can choose who we wish to serve. We choose you, darling! "
Victoria's mouth hung open in stunned delight.
"But… but…"
Stacy and Sondra turned their backs to Victoria while they peeled off their blouses. When they turned back, Victoria screamed in joy.
Four delightful breasts bore freshly branded S's above the nipples. The nipples themselves sported glistening rings, centered perfectly through the exact middle! One of Stacy's still oozed a tiny red droplet.
"And Look!" squealed Stacy. The two girls lifted up their skirts, yanked down their pants, and ex- hibited one cheek to Victoria. In the exact center was a livid V. For Victoria, of course. A personal brand, as it were.
Tears rolled down Victoria's happy face.
"I… I… I… don't know what to say… I'm so happy… what can I say… I…"
"Well, Mistress," sighed Stacy, "we won't be able to call you darling, and you'll simply have to stop being so sweet to us… and punish us awfully
We have been quite spoiled by you, you know. We need to learn our station once again. In fact, we branded and ringed each other without your per- mission just now. I would imagine that calls for a simply terrible whipping. Don't you agree
Sondra?"
"Oh yes, Stacy," said Sondra. "Just terrible. I would say at least a hundred lashes."
"Perhaps two hundred," mused Stacy.
"Yes, of course," said Sondra. "Two hundred at the very least."