Dorinda wept.
"This whole business of training you is intriguing," Mark admitted ruminatively. "Once we have accepted the premise that I’m a right bastard the rest follows naturally. Sets the old concience aside too. I’m a bit worried that you may hate me. These sessions when you come starkly face to face with your new condition have to be a bit traumatic. But I’ve studied Terry. If she’s a sample, girls must be damn resilient."
"Mabel will hate you," his victim gasped.
"Well? What gave rise to that thought, darling? I’d forgotten Mabel." Dorinda wished she’d kept quiet. She knew perfectly well hwat had promted the outburst. But she was not going to say so. "You can’t expect her to enjoy it… Master," she offered lamely. Then gasped with definite sincerity. "I’m not."
"Bit of feminine thinking in there somewhere, I suspect. But we’ll let it pass. By the way, dear girl, I owe you an apology. With Mabel showing up on schedule, you must have been telling the truth. I mean about good old Mike or whatever his name is."
"Of course I was telling the truth! Anyone but an id…. Oh gee! I’m sorry, master."
"Idiot was the words, no doubt." Mark’s tone was caustic. "Weren’t you the girl who suggested that training is superpluous?"
"I’m sorry. Honest I am, master. But I hurt so damn bad I can’t think straight. And anyway, you… Anyone looking at me would have to know I’m not Mabel’s sort. Where does your amateur kidnapper shanghai his victims?"
Mark chuckled. "I really don’t know. Some cheap pub, probably. I didn’t give him specs to follow – apart from her being easy on the eye, of course. Couldn’t expect a product of Vasar or Girton. Would have been nice perhaps. You know: the haughty maiden brought low. But with them there’d be repercussions…"
"How d’you know there aren’t with me?"
"If there are any, they’ll be on Mr. Mike’s plate, not mine. And that reminds me. Since my favorite slave was telling the truth I suppose the dear old boy will show up looking for you one of these days. What do you suggest?"
"Don’t you give me to him?"
Mark was genuinly hurt. "You don’t suppose…?"
"Oh again," Dorinda wailed. "Oh master… It’s hanging on this damn thing. I don’t seem able to behave. I say anything wrong."
"Much the same as ‘in vino veritas’ I suppose. You weren’t thinking of asking me to let down?"
"No master."
"You were, y’know. But what shall we do with your boyfriend?"
"He’s not mu boyfriend! He’s what you English call a rooter. He more or less kidnapped me. I suspect he’s bound to come up to the house looking. You can make up a story for him. Ohh master, this hurts
…"
"You are bearing it with great fortitude, dear girl. I can almost see the character build."
"Don’t joke. It’s awful. Please whip me instead."
Mark appeared to consider. "You sound terribly wistful, darling. Perhaps I should do as you suggest. It did occur to me that your present position is ideally suited to what you have in mind. What say I give you some nice round number, then let you down?"
"No!!"
"But you asked."
"Not on my front! Oh please, don’t ever whip my front. I’ll try and shut up and behave." Dorinda was frightened.
"Tell you what, puppet. Damned unsporting of me to sit and watch you suffer. No help in your time of trial, eh? So I’ll trot along and leave you to do some quiet thinking. You know, seek the elusive attitude we’re trying to engender."
"Oh, don’t leave me." She was stricken.
"Wouldn’t it be easier for you?" he asked kindly.
"I don’t care! I don’t want you to go!"
Mark was touched. "I was thinking of unlocking young Terry’s collar," he said teasingly.
"Doesn’t she have to stay there all afternoon too?"
"Thinking of unfair treatment?"
"Well, she does actually enjoy most of the things you do to her, doesn’s she? She loves you terribly."
"Glad you inserted ‘most’ in that sentence, love. There are some things the dear child can’t bear. They drive her up the wall. Remember that whip? She wasn’t acting. She hates it. She’s a little heroine with the cane or the crop. But not that. She loathes this thing you are enduring now. Sitting on a rail is another. When she gets particularly bratty there are all sorts of things I keep for special occassions to make her mind."
"But you love her."
"Yes, I may love you. But that won’t get your feet on the ground."
Dorinda wished he did love her and that he would indeed put her feet on the ground. She knew that, threatened with this punishment in the future, she would really come to heel. There was a nagging awfulness about it that made a girl curl up inside.
"She is a darling child," Dorinda avowed, setting aside her own misery.
"I gathered some mutual attraction yesterday," he said dryly.
Dorinda flushed scarlet and squirmed. Her legs where all she was free to squirm with. But she used them.
"Properly repentant, I trust? Should have used that whip on you both."
"What you did was bad enough. Try sleeping like that sometime." She suddenly remembered and added a belated "Master."
"Not bearing up very well, are you, love? Anyway, I’m quite suree you’ll both be nibbling away at each other the first time my back is turned."
Dorinda’s lips were mute. But her legs betrayed her.
"I know this sounds naive," he continued hesitantly. "But I’m curious. Is it very good?"
"Yes." The admiration had been long in coming. Then she burst out rechlessly. "I won’t lie about it. It was morw wonderful than I even believed. Terry’s a darling."
Mark nodded. His face was not the thundercloud she had expected. "You know I’ll trash you every time I catch you at it."
"Yes master."
"I think you are telling me a trashing is a small price to pay."
Dorinda’s mind was a turmoil. They were on such treacherous gorund. But, hurting as she was. The truth seemed easiest. Her words came slowly. "I suppose that if we could buy some happiness for the price of being whipped, we would make the pruchase," she said simply.
"It’s Terry, y’know. She’s pure magic."
"You love her very much… and you love whipping her?"
"Can youi believe the two things go together?"
"I can believe it very easily," said Dorinda. "I couldn’t have done a week ago. But I can now."
"How come?"
Dorinda blushed. She could not answer.
Opinions: Terry
We are terriblye lucky of course, Mark and me, I mean. Brother and sister you say. Well, perhaps. But ever since I can remember Mark has been an adventure. Everything you do with him is right, so absolutely right that there is a sort of magic to it. He triend other girls and I tried other boys, but they were a waste of time. Whether he whips me or even does something really awful to me, or when he takes me up in the clouds with that lovely, silly thing he has between his legs – I’m glad I’m not a man and have to carry one of those around – it’s always fresh and new and sparkling.
Kyrexos came to us as a sort of Garden of Eeden in reverse. You know, we got put in there instead of taken out. The girl was Mark’s idea. I didn’t mind. His fantasy demanded her, so that was that. I’ll admit to a touch of jealousy, but that was offset by an exciting hope I’d get to whip her sometimes. I was curious, too, about that other thing: the two girl trick. I didn’t tell Mark that. He’s male and possesive and I was sure I’d got a sore seat if he knew.
Dorinda was a happening. She’s super. When Mark brought her home all naked with her hands behind her back I nearly exploded: you know where. I was naked too. And chained to the pillar on the terrace. When she looked at me in ashtonishment I got that same gorgeous crinkly feeling I get when Mark looks at me or teases me when I can’t do something about it.
The masochist thing! I’m sure you have to wonder. Bit silly, I think. Same as lesbian. Just names. Some people like boiled turnips and others like chocolate eclairs. If you’rw wise, you like both.
I’ll admit I’ve wondered about me and the cane. For me it’s a nice yellow whippy cane or a lovely slender riding crop. We get them at a place in London and always have them laying around all over. That way I can get that crinkly feeling in every room of the house. I won’t pretend I’m exactly joyful at the moment one of them laces into my bottom. I won’t bother with all the flowery descriptions of pain they go in for in those books you get in the backroom in Soho. But it’s really something! I can’t stand still for too many. I have to be tied. But the before and the after! Nobody, not even me, can tell you how wonderful they are. It’s like going up in the clouds the way I wold you. Mostly after Mark has whipped my bottom I absolutely attack him. I just have to. Except those times when he has me tied or chained. He knows I’m in agony. But he just laughs. It does something for his male ego.