Return to Avondale

Chapter One

"Pamela! Packed yet? Girl from Avondale is here!" shouted Mrs. McNee to her daughter upstairs.

It was raining in Hammersmith and the van had pulled up outside the flat shortly after two.

"Be there in a jiff, mom!" came the voice from Pamela's bedroom.

The clicking heels of Pamela's shoes sounded on the stairs as she came bouncing down with her suitcase. Mrs. McNee was in the vestibule talking to the woman with long blonde hair, rather nervously of course, for there really wasn't much to say. The woman was perhaps twenty-three and quite attractive, though her obviously slim figure was well concealed in a dripping raincoat. Mrs.McNee handed Pamela her slicker without comment. Everything had already been said, many times over, for the last three weeks. Shoplifting had been a lark at first for Pamela, then rather exciting. Until she was nicked.

It had taken much influence with the magistrate from one of Mrs. McNee's solicitor acquaintances, and much money, to arrange for Pamela's stay at Avondale. After all, she was seventeen and old enough to spend three years in Women's Prison at Eeling as her sentence called for. It had taken some doing, some pleading and some convincing, but finally it was arranged to admit Pamela to Avon- dale, Certainly six months there would he better than three years in jail, without question. Besides, at Avondale a girl could continue her studies.

Avondale was well known to most, sophisticated Londoners, and, by reputation, to many girls as well. The quaint, ivy-covered school had nestled in the rolling hills of Avonshire since 1845 and served, until after World War Two, as one of the many training schools for young ladies, so fashion- able in those delightful times when the whip and cane were deemed proper and necessary for the proper maturity and breeding of every girl who wished to really be anything at all. Such procedures faded with time, social acceptance, and law of course. One or two, such as Avondale, had been converted by the government into correction schools for those troublesome young ladies not yet of legal age and for whom prison might cause more harm than good. Even so, it took influence and money, for the schools were small, Avondale itself admitting only ten at one time, It was not asked what was done at Avondale.

Some knew, but winked at it. After all. it wouldn't make much difference to a girl who was sent there, for six months was certainly better than being locked up for several years. It was rumored that things really hadn't changed much at Avondale since it,s inception, but after all, if girls went there voluntarily for over a century, modern girls should be able and willing to follow suit even if involuntarily attending. Goodness knows, girls hadn't changed much over the years!

"Take off your blouse, honey," said the girl from the school. "Have to put the punishment bra on you."

Pamela hesitated only briefly. After all, she might as well begin to get used to anything for the next six months. She handed her blouse to her mother. Pamela's breasts were lovely. There was no question about that at all.

Much to Mrs.. McNee's consternation, the blonde ran her hands briefly over Pamela's bare breasts.

Not aggressively, but just enough for Pamela to get the idea. Pamela had never been touched by a girl, but, it wasn't unpleasant at that moment. It gave her something to think about.

The bra, which the girl produced from her hand- bag, was just an ordinary girl's bra. Except of course for the inside which had been completely studded with thumb tacks, She fitted it over Pamela's shoulders and snapped the hooks in back.

Pamela drew in her breath. The tacks hurt!

"Do you really have to do that?" exclaimed Mrs.. McNee in utter shock.

"Oh, mother," said Pamela, "don't make a fuss.After all, it's only for six months y'know. Doesn't hurt too bad."

Pamela put on her blouse, and the girl from Avondale took cords from her purse. Pamela had never been tied before of course, but she had seen enough movies and TV to know enough to cross her hands behind her and turn around to the girl.

The first, feel of rope on her wrists was interesting.

Not uncomfortable or unpleasant, but not exciting either. Just… interesting. Yet, there was a slight quickening of her breathing when she smelled the lilac perfume of her binder. Well now, thought

Pamela, what's this reaction all about? Probably the excitement of the day.

Pamela's raincoat was draped over her shoulders to hide her ropes, and there was a last goodbye, and a brief kiss to her mother. The door closed behind them as they walked quickly through the rain.

The van was blue, but unlettered, and it stood in the gushing torrent of the gutter. The rear doors were opened by the girl and they climbed inside together, stepping high up to the floor deck, The girl's raincoat was short, and so was her skirt obviously, for Pamela saw a flash of her white panties.

The girl removed Pamela's raincoat and untied her wrists. The respite was only brief however, for she raised Pamela's right wrist towards the van ceiling and encased it in a dangling silver handcuff. The left wrist was likewise cuffed before the girl touched a panel switch. The chains holding the cuffs rose with a.smooth whispy sound and Pamela felt her arms pulled upwards until her heels left her shoes, all of her weight now on her toes. Pamela said nothing, but felt the discomfort of her bond- age keenly. Better get off to a good start, she realized.

"Feel okay, baby?" asked the girl.

"Sure," said Pamela, not missing the girl's use of the word "baby." She hadn't been called that by a girl before, and found it rather nice. The girl was pretty. She had thought about girls once or twice.

"Sure, mistress!" snapped the girl. "That calls for a minor penalty only, since it was your first time."

"Yes, mistress." The girl placed her hands on Pamela's blouse and squeezed the breasts.

"Owww," gasped Pamela, t,ears welling in her eyes; The thumb tacks had bitten into her flesh deeply, and in fact remained there. Pamela was sure that she could feel every last one of them!

"At Avondale, you bits of fluff thank the mis- tresses for punishing you!" said the girl. "After all, y'know, punishment makes women out of you.

Now thank me for pushing the tacks in your tits, baby."

Pamela gulped, more from shame than hurt.

Could this be happening to her?

"Thanks for… for… pushing the tacks in my tits, mistress." Her face was crimson. "Much better," said the girl. "Like the feel of 'em?"

Pamela decided that discretion was the better part of valor. If this chick gets her kicks from hurting girls, I'm not going to make it easy for her, thought Pamela.

"They're okay, I guess, mistress."

"Okay?"

"Well, I do like 'em, mistress."

"Good." The girl kissed Pamela full on the mouth. It was certainly a first for Pamela! But she didn't break the kiss either, and was keenly aware of a rather tingly sensation in her loins. What the hell is happening here? she realized.

The girl ran a finger over Pamela's lips. Very tenderly and softly.

"What color panties have you got: on, baby?"

This is too much, thought Pamela. Now the girl was playing games! Well, better go along or it's more damn thumb tacks pressed into me.

"Pink ones, mistress."

"Sometimes we pull the pants off of a girl in here and hang 'em on the outside of the van. Lets people know we've got a fluff in here on her way to Avondale!"

Pamela closed her eyes. Oh, no. Please no. At least not'til I get to Avondale, she said to herself.

"Feel like doing that today," smiled the blonde.

"Ask me to!"

Pamela choked, her face flushing with fire. She licked her dry lips.

"Pull my panties off and hang 'em outside, mistress," she squeaked in a strange voice.

"Please," commanded the girl.

"Please, mistress."

The girl laughed, kissed Pamela's nose-tip and went out, slamming and locking the van doors.

"Bastard!" said Pamela softly. "Knew they didn't do things like that! Or did they?" Pamela moved upon her toes as the van made it.s way through the rain of London's West End. Her thoughts were many… and very mixed. There had been a lot of funny emotions, she realized. In fact, some of them weren't so funny at all… they were… interesting. Forget it, she admonished herself. I'm only seventeen and not into girls yet,

What the heck is the matter with me?

Pamela looked up at her taut wrists, lit dimly by the curtained windows. The punishment bra hurt.

A lot. She should be yelling or complaining! They don't do these things to girls in 1972! She laughed at her thought. They sure as hell do! Just look at me!

Another pair of handcuffs hung from the ceiling as well. Pamela wondered whether she'd have company or be left to her own thoughts for the entire journey. Within an hour she received her answer, as the van suddenly stopped.

Pamela naturally had no idea where the stop had been made, although she knew it was far out of

London from the utter lack of traffic noises. The rain however still beat upon the roof over her head accompanied by an occasional thunder clap. She was glad of the respite, for the moving vehicle had made her jostle and sway in her chains thus causing far more discomfort to her encircled wrists than when standing stilL

The door swung open and the blonde woman pulled a girl up into the van by her hair. In the semi-darkness Pamela could not fully study the girl, but she saw that she was her age and pretty.

It was also obvious that the girl was receiving a little harsher treatment than she had. The girl's hands were untied and her raincoat removed before the woman pushed the chain button on the side of the wall causing the silver links to lower to the floor. The cuffs were attached to the girl's ankles, the button pushed again, and she rose upwards by her feet until they were close to the van roof. The girl swung freely, her. skirt falling down to her chest. The woman tied her hands to Pamela's ankles and Pamela found herself looking through the girl's legs.

"In case you're interested," said the woman, "my name's Jan. I will be your mistress at Avon- dale, which makes you two my slaves. You will be called slaves, for that is what you are until your parole."

Pamela digested Jan's words with a rather tongue-in-cheek acceptance. "Slave" wasn't a very modern word, after all. But Jan had said it without emphasis. It just rolled off her tongue like any other word. Well, thought Pamela, if she gets her kicks that way, okay.

"I'm twenty-four, like my job, like girls your age, am good at what I do! It won't matter whether you like me or not, or play up to me, or make me angry. You'll get, the same treatment either way."

It was just that quick and she was out the door.

The van pulled away into the murky rain.

"Cor," said Pamela. "Something else, isn't she? Well, at least she's not fat and ugly. Kinda cute in fact. But I think she's gonna be tough on us. I suspect she likes it. One of those kind! Hey hon, what the heck did you do to get hung up like that?"

"Sassed her in front of mum," said the girl.

"Sorry my voice is upside down. My name is Donna Carson, what's yours?"

"Pamela McNee. Pam for short, obviously. Sorry we can't see each other, Donna," laughed Pamela.

"All I'm looking at is a pair of white panties and you a pair of ankles!"

Donna laughed. "Oh, well. At. least it's different as introductions go!"

Pamela liked Donna at once. Many girls probably would have been complaining, or swearing, or sobbing, or silent in their thoughts, but Donna was a talker, and seemed more than willing to accept her situation with lightness. Well, why not, thought Pamela. Far better than to bitch or make it any worse. It'll be bad enough at Avondale as it is.

"I like you, Donna Carson," laughed Pamela.

"You're something else! Glad I'll have a sweet roommate anyway!"

"Thanks! I like you too, Pam McNee. Let's be good friends. Maybe it will make it easier to get through all this if we have each other's shoulder to cry on at times. I think when two girls share the same problems it makes them real close because they can sympathize with each other's emotions and all. You see, I'm a philosopher and a sage!"

"Oh, Donna, you're a loony, you are!" laughed

Pamela. "You're fun! But what you say is true, hon. Let's be real close."

"Know anything about Avondale?" asked Donna.

"Heck no, do you?"

"Knew a chick that went there once. 'Bout three years ago. Told me that they put rings in you in several obvious places. Also whip you a lot."

"You're putting me on!" said Pamela. "You mean just like in the old-time training schools?"

"Yep. Well, Pam, girls are still girls. If they took it fifty years ago no reason why we can't. We're just as good as any fluff back then! Besides, six months here is sure better than three years in the can, no matter what they do to girls!"

"Well, you're right about that, Donna. Did your friend say it was awful?"

"Funny thing. She didn't seem to regret it at all.

Fact is, I got t,he impression that she… rather liked it. She was some chick when she got out.

Changed and all. Real sexy and sure of herself now."

"She must have been kinky!" laughed Pamela.

"Not really."

Pamela thought about that for a minute how the hell could a girl like rings and whips? Oh well It takes all kinds.

"Ever make it with a girl, Pam?"

"Geez, no! Are you that way?"

"No, but I've thought about it once or twice," said Donna. "Don't you know anything about girls' correction schools?"

"No, not a damn thing, Donna. You mean they have lesbian stuff going on there?"

Donna laughed. "You're precious, Pam! Did' know there were any more left like you! 'Course they do. There's no boys you know, except once in a while they make you put out to a boy.s' school inmates. It's just girls all the rest of the time.

Didn't you see how that Jan looked at us? Didn't she feel up your tits in front of your mom?"

"Well… yes," said Pamela blushing. "You mean we have to go down on her?"

"My friend said that we have to satisfy our mistress just all the time. Not only that, but we room- mates sleep together, too! Well, anyway, Jan's cute. Guess all the mistresses are cool chicks out there."

"Geez, Donna. Sounds like that doesn't bother you at all."

"No big deal. Chicks make it together all t,he time these days in London. Hell, since Rue found a girlfriend! "

Pamela laughed. "Donna, I'm glad I was thrown in with you. You make everything sound so… acceptable and easy. I'll get through this with you around!"

"Eating pussy must be fun," laughed Donna.

My friend just can't get enough these days.Avondale really changed her."

"Well,yours doesn't look too bad at all," laughed Pamela.

"How do you know, Pam?"

"'Well, baby," giggled Pamela, "girls' under-pants are nylon you know and one can see right through 'em. Where do you think your legs are?"

' "Whoops, forgot," said Donna. "Oh well, we're both girls and we sure know how a girl is designed!How's the view up there?"

Pamela had never taken so to a girl. Donna was making things so easy for them both. She felt a definite warmth towards this teenager who was still able to take things in stride. It wasn't a sexual thing right now, but just a fast-developing adoration. Yet, there was a certain tingling within her and she recognized it. Pamela bent her head and kissed Donna right on the narrow white strip of panty between her legs, leaving a perfect lipstick imprint on the white nylon. It was not intended as sexual Both girls knew that. It was that Pamela felt the need to kiss Donna for her beautiful friend- ship, and Donna's sex was the only place available at the moment! Donna's hands gave a brief squeeze to Pamela's ankles in response, not from sexual emotion, but as a thank you for Pamela's love and affection so apparent in the brief kiss.

"Never kissed a girl on the pussy before," said Pamela. "Nor anywhere else for that matter."

It was silent for a moment.

"I know, Pam. That's why it meant so much.

Thank you, hon."

The levity was gone now, wiped away by the suddenly obvious warmth the two girls had for each other.

"Pam?"

"Yes?"

"Would you have kissed me there if… I didn't have panties on?"

Pamela's reply came only after a moment's pause.

"Yes." Donna squeezed her ankles again.

The van seemed to go on and on through the rain, and the two girls pitched and swayed in their joint bondage. The bond of sharing had become strong between them and neither would think of complaining to the other.

"Oh, Donna, I'm right side up and you're upside down. Poor baby. Is it uncomfortable?"

"A little. Did Jan put a punishment bra on you,

Pam? She did on me. Makes a girl wish she didn't have tits."

"Yes, hon. I'm wearing one too. I know what you mean. It's a bitch to feel those tacks in your skin."

The journey seemed endless, but of course it wasn't. The van had pulled to a halt before the ad- ministration building, and the doors were opened.

Jan bounced up into the truck.

"Well, look what we have here!" smiled Jan as she saw the red kiss imprint between Donna's legs.

"Just couldn't wait to get at her could you, fluff?"

"No… please… it wasn't like that at all, Jan."

Jan's hand cracked across Pamela's face snapping her head back.

"Mistress Jan, you little bitch!" Jan unshackled both girls, and Donna fell to the floor as the blood rushed from her head now that she was right side up again.

"That lipstick mark is kinda cute," smiled Jan.

"But remember, both of you, I'm your love from now on! In your bed at night I don't care what you fluffs do to each other, but the rest of the time I'm your whole world so you'd better start falling in love with me right now! Now, I think I'd better have one of those lipstick souvenirs, don't you? From both of you, and they'd better be put on perfectly, one right next to the other. Here, put some fresh lipstick on. Really kind of a cute idea. Never thought, of it before!"

Pamela blanched and looked at Donna for help.

Donna nodded softly. Why buy trouble already? her look indicated. In a gesture of affection for Pamela, Donna went first. She knelt in front of Jan who stood with spread thighs, her skirt held up to her waist. Jan's white panties fit like skin. Donna put her hands behind Jan and held her bottom cheeks softly. The kiss was applied.

Pamela was grateful that Donna had offered to go first. The girl was becoming more beautiful to her each passing moment! Pamela followed Donna's lead. She grasped Jan's bottom and planted her kiss just above Donna's on the white slippery panty strip. It was very warm there, and perfumed, and quite wet from Jan's emotion. Pamela could feel the wet sex lips through the nylon, and she let her kiss linger quite long. Jan squirmed, and her hands twisted within Pamela's long brown hair.

"Very nice, Pamela." Jan looked down at t,he two red imprints before dropping her mini-skirt.

Jan led the girls along the cement walk to the entrance and it came quite natural for Pamela and

Donna to hold hands as they walked towards the ivy building.

"You little minx," whispered Donna while smiling. "Why'd you kiss her pussy so long?"

"Figure whatever they give us, or do to us, or make us do, we'll just do it better and longer! We'!! love longer, and scream Louder when they hurt us:

Make 'em see that we are two real girls!"

"That's beautiful, Pam. Really it is. The.most beautiful thing I ever heard. I'm with you. As long as we have each other we'll show'em!"

The held hands squeezed together with a mes- sage of love and caring.

Their room was on the second floor, and as rooms went, was really quite nice and comfortable. For one person. There was only one chest of drawers and one bed, the latter very narrow and obviously meant for one girl. The implication was not lost on

Pamela and Donna, but neither remarked about it,

Nor did they comment on the pair of chains hanging from the ceiling.

The girls unpacked and immediately found n space problem for their things, but the solution was forthcoming from Pamela.

"Look, hon, this whole thing isn't gonna be a picnic. This isn't a hotel. We're squeezed in here like two peas in a pod, and the idea is very clear.

We're gonna be one, not two! We're just about the same size. Let's just throw all our stuff together in t,he chest and not worry about what belongs to whom. We'll just wear each other's stuff. What say'?"

"Even panties?"

"Why not?"

"O.K. by me, love."

In the early evening, Jan appeared and took the girls down to the library to meet the "in-charge."

Pamela had thought about the headmistress or warden or keeper or whatever one calls her. Her visions conjured up a woman of fifty, hard, masculine looking, severe clothes, with a forty-foot whip in her hand. With spikes in it. Her vision was nicely shattered by Ravan who sat waiting for them in a recliner chair. The woman was perhaps forty, still with a slim, lovely figure and a face of classic feminine maturity so natural to that age.

She would have appealed to men of any age, and pleased them well. It was not a hardened face at all. Indeed, it was a face of soft loveliness with most attractive and understanding eyes of green.

Her skirt was short, in style with the times, and her legs were still very much fit to wear such things. She motioned for the girls to sit.

"My name is Ravan," she said in a soft voice.

"Not Miss Ravan, or wardeness, or mistress or anything else. Just… Ravan. I am in charge of the ten slaves that are here. Jan is in charge of you two specifically."

It was that word again. Slaves. How easily and naturally she had used it, the same as Jan!

"Avondale is not.a game. It is not fun… at first. You consider yourselves fortunate to be sent here rather than jail, I'm sure. Within very many days however, you will be willing to trade your six months here for a few years in jail You can count on it. But. in time, that will pass. There is a school of thought that young ladies are redirected more efficiently by a shorter and more severe incarceration, than by languishing in jail for two or three years. The latter seem to come out worse than be- fore, but an Avondale girl leaves a very beautiful and reoriented young lady indeed. Society has willed, mistakingly I might add, that the training of young ladies in 'proper schools' is against the grain of modern living. A century ago, even thirty years ago, England abounded with training schools. Not prisons, or reform schools, but, proper schools of great esteem where every young English girl would give her right arm to at,tend. It was an honor, for such girls who were fortunate to go left as beautiful young women."

"In those days, the cane and the whip and the chain were considered part of becoming a lovely young woman. Girls knew that they required such things, arid their parents did too. It was as much part of training as studies or posture or good grooming. It was not feared. It was wanted. Girls were thrilled to be able to attend such schools, and the punishments and the rings were accepted with pleasure."

Pamela and Donna listened with rapt attention to this rather exciting history lesson! They held hands.

"Then, of course, society became benevolent. Or so they thought Such schools were disbanded in the interest of 'decency'. They were hand-wringing fools of course. Those who made laws were not female, and they had no concept of what girls required or desired. They knew not that punishment is the greatest blessing a girl can accept, for it molds her into a creature of pure delight.

"Even women's prisons were changed. The do-goaders decided that a well-applied whip to a woman's body was much too 'medieval'. So instead of an internment of a few weeks with some constructive whipping each day, the social reformers decided that it was much more 'decent' and proper to throw a woman in jail for five years! When she gets out she's bitter, morose, older, and hasn't gained a thing towards being a beautiful woman.

The utter fools!

"Twenty-two years ago I was one of the first inmates here at Avondale. It had been a training school for young ladies for a century, before being closed by the 'reformers'. After a few years, it was reopened as a semi-reform institution for first-time offenders like yourselves. Very fortunately, the woman placed in charge, a very gracious and lovely older lady I might add, had attended Avondale when it was still a training school. She threw away the guidebooks and regulations, and ran the school as she saw fit in the only way she had learned. She was a blessing, for she proved over and over and over that young girls today respond to the same things as girls did in her day, and she turned out some of the most beautiful creatures possible.

Some of them you would recognize if I told you their names. Actresses, TV starlets.

"The first time I was whipped here, I cried for my mother. Within a month I went willingly to the whipping room. And when I left, I cried again.

Because I wanted to stay at Avondale! I know, as I look at you both, that you find these things hard to believe. But it is so, and the day you leave you will remember what I have told you today."

Pamela and Donna shared the same thoughts. It was indeed hard to believe! Yet, the woman's face revealed pure honesty and sincerity.

"I went on to college," continued Ravan, "and shortly thereafter I read where this most gracious lady had passed away. I applied for the position of in-charge; and due to the fact that I had graduated with honors and had been here myself, I was appointed to the post. That was eighteen years ago, and I have carried on in the manner which. I know is right for young ladies. You're looking at an ex- ample of one in me, and in your mistress Jan, for my five mistresses have all been here as inmates. I will not employ any woman who has not gone through Avondale herself."

Pamela and Donna looked around at Jan with new respect and a sudden admiration. Jan winked at them.

"Fortunately, government inspections are rare and seldom get by the front office. No girl has ever left here angry or sullen. Each of them has thanked me personally on the day they left! I still get letters regularly from dozens of them after all these years, some whose signatures you would immediately recognize! The old methods are still the best, as you will learn.

"Now, as to your stay here. You are indeed slaves, in every sense of the word. Each of the five mistresses own two girls, body and soul, and they are responsible for your care and training. Slavery is the only way possible here, and it is the ultimate glory to serve as such. A girl cannot become a truly beautiful entity unless she has been a slave. Fe- males have recognized that from the beginning of time. It is part of being female. You will indeed be whipped, over and over, for the whip is like food or air or water to a girl. She requires it like she does sleep or play or love. At first you will acclimate yourselves to the whip. Then you will accept it.

Then you will receive pleasure from it. Finally it. will become sexual to you and you will desire it.

Ultimately you will enjoy seeing another girl receiving it and will desire to use it yourself upon a girl. And you will be allowed to."

Pamela's gasp was audible. This was all too much, too fast! Yet, looking at Ravan, she knew her words were possibly true. Why would she lie'!

"There are many other punishments you will accept, too numerous to go into here. But all are given for a reason, and all are intended t,o train you into ultimate femininity. That is why only females are used to apply these punishments. Girls need to be hurt, and only other females can properly do it, for they know a female body. You are not punished for misdeeds or bad behavior, for you will commit few indiscretions. You are punished because you require it as you do your meals. You are punished regularly in various and different ways according to a well-proven format laid out in my guidebooks.

Additionally, of course, you will be ringed for this is a tradition and pleasure, which dates back to the beginning of females. Rings mean total submission and total femininity to a girl, and thousands of girls in all lands have worn rings. It is not a punishment. It is a symbol and an honor which you will desire all of your lives. Yes, one of BBC Television's loveliest actresses still wears her rings in three of the four places that, they were inserted here. You watch her weekly.

"ln the old days, rings were put, into.o a girl's nipples as I'm sure you know. Today, I feel modern girls are more beautiful, healthier and sexual, and so I require a nose-ring and a ring in one vaginal lip as well. Yes, I saw you flush a little and heard your gasps, but know this..: you will quickly adore your rings! Remember too, that ancient girls of

Rome and Greece bore rings in these places and more, and loved them! Are today's girls any different? I feel that they are better, and three years ago

I improved on our nipple rings. I am quite proud of my modification. You'll know you have rings!"

The incongruous part of Ravan's words were not that they dealt with whips and rings and punishment, but that they came from such a lovely soft-spoken woman! It was hard for Pamela and Donna to rationalize such statements from such a sweet- looking woman. Unless… unless… the words were quite true! Strangely too, her words did not evoke fear and trembling. They were rather exciting in fact. Could all these things really bring joy and pleasure? Looking at Ravan, the two girls thought it. must be so. If the words had been delivered by a sadistic looking dyke they would have meant nothing. But this classic woman! Pamela felt the tingling again, and a moistness in her panties.

"You're probably wondering about clothes," said Ravan. "Another feeling of mine, shared by my wonderful predecessor, is that girls should look like girls at all times. This is another advantage of

Avondale over prison where they put dumpy and sexless uniforms on females. Here you will wear the following each day after your morning shower: clean panties, garter belt, stockings, high-heel shoes. That's it. No more, no less. You will keep yourselves clean at all times, wear perfume and fresh lipstick. You will shower in the morning and again in the evening before bed. In the shower you will thoroughly soap and wash each other, you will not do it yourself. The meaning of that should be quite clear between two girls. As far as sex is concerned, that too is part of your training and punishment. Each Saturday night the school is visited by t,he boys from Ridgeway Reform School. There will be perhaps thirty. You ten girls will supply them with your bodies for the night. This arrangement is quite discreet, and is agreed upon by the warden of Ridgeway and myself. It is not good for girls or boys to be separated like animals for too long. Both require each other fairly regularly you know. You will be supplied with the pill, but you will fuck. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ravan," said the girls. It somehow came out easy, and it made them both squirm in realization of such erotic punishment.

"You see," said Ravan, "there are many kinds of punishment that girls should bear. Not only physical, but mental as well, and emotional. Being made to fuck is quite degrading, thus beneficial to a girl."

It was impossible that such a benevolent and softly spoken woman could use such a word as "fuck" with such utter normalcy. Their minds whirled from this lengthy and numbing lecture.

"The rest of the time," continued Ravan, "you will be lesbian. You will supply your mistress with all that she desires without limit and without reservation. Obviously, you will also sleep with each other and have sex together each night as you desire. This is not an order. It is just something that you will naturally do, as all girls do, in your situation. When girls share what you will share you will fall into each other's arms every night. Eventually you will fall in love, and be 'married' in a rather quaint little ceremony and custom we have here. It is something you must ask for however. It depends upon your love for each other. Some girls do not marry, some do. It will be up to you to request it. I know that you are not particularly shocked at lesbian love. Whether either of you has tried. it, makes no difference. You have thought about it at times, because it is very normal between females. Men do not share this feeling. It will come natural to you, and is not a perversion. You two have only been together a few hours, yet I will bet that already you have had some rather… nice thoughts about each other, especially when you were bound together in the van. Am I not right?"

Pamela and Donna looked at each other sheepishly. They had been holding hands all this time, and now gave each other a squeeze. Jan, standing behind them, gave a telltale cough.

"I thought so," smiled Ravan. "You see, boys don't hold hands like you're doing! Your love will spill over to the other girls… You may feel free to bed with them too. You are allowed to sleep with any girl of course, and I suggest t,hat, you try them all sooner or later."

"Are we allowed visits by our mothers?" asked Pamela.

"Mothers are not allowed to visit," answered Ravan, "nor can you write or phone. Your mistress will write your mothers regularly informing them of your punishments and activities. She will also include photos of you being punished and having sex."

Pamela and Donna flushed sunburn red.

"This is not a game or a boarding school," said

Ravan. "You are here as offenders to be punished, and one of your punishments is to have your mothers completely informed. Now, Jan will take you back to your room and carry on from here."

As Jan led the pair back to their room. Pamela whispered to Donna.

"I heard all that, but I'm having trouble digesting it, Donna. This is 1972, isn't it? It can't be for real!"

"Baby, I think it is for real!"