I can twist him a bit, of course. I don’t think he’s caught on to all my little girl tricks. I can almost always get my bottom caned by using one of them. But if he thinks I’M twisting, then heaven help poor little Terry. I still love him all the more afterwards. I can’t help it. Mark’s terribly good to me and we both agree that when he thinks I deserve one of those awful punishments he’s also terribly good for me. I knnow I’m a bit of a brat. So I’m really grateful for the bad ones. I mean, afterwards, of course.
I really thought I was going to get it that day with Dorinda when Mark found about us doing – you know what. I was really scared and I felt guilty because it looked as though she was going to get it too. He did give us a bad time with that chain around our middles. I was angry enough to pop. Just think of it! Two naked girls fastened back to back. We tried with our hands but nothing worked. So we had to talk and giggle. The day had been a discovery for both of us: a couple of explorers stumbling on Eldorado. We both knew we’d do it again in spite of his silly old punishments. I didn’t tell Dorinda, but I was a bit worried in case Mark foxed us by keeping us chained or tied so we never could. You can never be quite sure about Mark.. I know I’ll just go pop if I can’t get at her again. She’s darling.
Mark keeps a lot of things to do to me up his sleeve. They are things that leave me uncertain whether I’m enjoying myself and getting the crinkly feeling or not. Sort of teasing things. Or some awful frustration. Or something that makes me look and feel like a child who’s been a naughty girl. I’m not a child, though I sometimes have the feeling he still thinks I am. That’s only when he’s in big brother mood.
That kennel thing is a good example of the ones that leave me not knowing. It’s cringe making. I suppose a girl kneeling there with a collar chained round her neck just has to feel like a little puppy dog. The only thing that’s missing is her tail and if it was there I wouldn’t wag it. I can just barely stand upright. The chain’s that short. So I have to sit and kneel or move in and out the little hole in the box on all fours. If somebody was watching – someone like Dave for example – I’d feel so terribly ashamed. I’d go inside and curl up. But even when there’s no one there I still find myself blushing. I always try and get loose. I never can. But it’s something to do. Mark often leaves me in these binds for simply the longest times. When he comes to let me loose I’m so terribly glad to see him I’m ashamed of myself. Talk about slave girls. I’ve always been his!
Then Mark collared me to the kennel and took poor Dorinda off into the tress I knew what she was in for. I’d spent a bit of time hanging on that damn posr myself on occassions, when he’d decided I’d been a bad girl. It’s not a punishment I have to wonder about. It’s just plain awful. He fastens me up with my toes a few inches off the ground and goes away and leaves me alone. I get scared and there is no crinkly feeling and I’m shockingly humble when he chooses to come back.
Sometimes he comes back and I think it’s all over, but het just checks the cords and goes away again. I always cry when I see him disappearing for the second time. In can’t help it. I’m so lonely and hurt. So, you see, I could feel really sorry for Dorinda.
Sitting there with the collar ‘round my neck I got to thinking about Mabel and Dorinda. How different they were! I was amused about Dorinda and Mark. He doesn’t know it yet, but she’s in love with him. She isn’t completely like me, but because she wants him she has been able to take some really frightful whippings for him and come up smiling. I think he could do anything to her and it wouldn’t dent her feelings for longer than the pain lasted, probably not even that. She has it for him bad: what the Americans call the hots.
So what has happened is that the darling is a bit ahead of Mark all the time. He doesn’t need to whip her into slavery at all. She’d do anything he wanted, same as me. But poor old Mark has laid out a course and he has to follow it through, whether there’s any need or not. It’s hard luck for the poor girl. She understands and is putting up with it nobly. He’s like a chap who has prepared a speech and discovers someone else has said it first. He’s put all he’s got into the damn thing, so he reads it anyway. His audience can’t very well pack up and leave any more than Dorinda can.
But I bet when her training’s over she’ll really twist him, same as I do.
I think Mabel’s different. Mark’s ‘prescribed course’ is probably just what the doctor ordered. Whether she was on Kyrexos or somewhere else it would do her a lot of good. I was sitting happily thinking about whipping her bottom and hearing all the rude things she would yell ate me, when I’ll be darned if she didn’t saunter up cool as you please and rub me the wrong way at the start by saying in baby talk "Is poor little puppy dog all chained up then. Puppy dog likes a bone?"
Well, I ask you. That was a time I wanted to go inside and curl. I was about to let het have a good broadside when I suddenly realised that little Terry had better mind her Ps and Qs. I was alone. I was chained and I didn’t know much about Mabel. Previously when I was helpless there had just been Mark. This was a new experience.
"Just fun and games." I hoped it sounded casual.
Mabel looked around cautiously. "Not some sort of trap, is it?" She must have read about the lady and the tiger.
I was about to give her some good advice. But that old chestnut about ‘giving yourself up’ sounded just too corny. While I was thinking of something more appropriate she came out with "That guy screw you both?"
Mabel brought out the worst in me. I couldn’t resist. "Only once a day," I explained casually. "But now you’re here it will make it a lot easier."
I confirmed her worst suspicions. "What’s this whipping business? He’s one o’ them Johns can’t get it up no other way?"
"Oh, it’s up all the time," I said enthousiastically. "We get whipped if we don’t put up a good show. Very demanding, Mr. Esmond is. Gets very angry if a girl just lays there."
"Wants a bit of the action on your ass?" Mabel seemed to be on familiar ground.
I’m not that keen on four letter words. So I tried to steer in another direction. "What are you going to do about escaping?" I asked. I had her attention there.! What the fuck can I do?" she demanded morosly. "Bloody island. I already walked round it. You got any ideas?"
"They’d be no good to me. When I’m alone I’m always chained."
Mabel looked at me with actual pity. Vulger but with a heart of gold perhaps. "Look kid, can’t I get you fee somehow? Maybe if the two of us get off in the woods we can think of something."
I was about to declare that I was soundly chained and not to waste her time… when it occured to me that here was a chance for a bit of fun. You know, one up on good old Mark. I knew where the key was. Mark always tantalizes me by leaving the key out of reach but where I can see it. Ads to his enjoyment and makes me furious.
Oh sure, this is where I should have stopped to think. Slapped dear little Terry and told her to be good. But instead of thinking of my poor old bottom and whatever other bits of me were likely to be sorry, all I could see was Mark’s face when he came back and found my collar neatly locked but me gone. I was weak. I fell. I told Mabel where to find the key.