Return to Avondale

Chapter Four

Mrs. McNee received a short letter, with photos, a few days later. Jan had promised to keep her informed, and she was keeping her word.

The idea of sending letters and photos to the inmates' mothers was, of course, designed to mothers, over the years, had rebelled against such descriptive photos, and had been shocked and stunned at the punishments meted out in such modern times. Many had come close to reporting the situation at Avondale to authorities, but at the last minute thought better of the idea. It was a matter of a few months at Avondale as against several years of incarceration elsewhere, and so the situation was allowed to continue. Had any mother actually reported Avondale's activities, she would have a hard time receiving cooperation from the daughter to verify the facts. The mothers simply did not understand girls and their unique pleasures and desires, so changed had society become since the olden days when mothers were thrilled to send their daughters to such schools. Yet, girls remained the same as ever, and knew better than the adults that punishment was the ultimate teacher, and the ultimate pleasure.

Mrs. McNee, however, had not had thoughts about Pamela's activities in a negative sense.' She herself had never been to a girls' training school, nor involved herself in lesbian love. But over the years she had had fantasies about such things, encouraged by many under-the-counter novels she had bought in Soho, and hidden in her closet.

Indeed, the photos Jan had sent her were placed in her mirror corners. One of Pamela and Donna hung by their thumbs; one of Pamela wearing her rings; and one of Pamela making love to Jan. Mrs.McNee looked at the photos each night, and often emitted a wistful sigh. She was, in fact, slightly envious that she had not been admitted to such things in her life, but in a secret way she was proud that Pamela was receiving them for she knew, somehow, that Pamela would be a much better young lady for them, The photos just received were of Pamela's whipping, in a series of six, and they made Mrs. McNee flinch when she saw them. Yet of her mirror with them. She looked longingly most of all at the one of Pamela's tongue in Jan's sex, and wished that she were young once again.

At Avondale, two weeks had passed and Pamela was acclimating nicely to her new life. She had been whipped three times more on the frame, and was becoming slightly convinced that a girl's bottom was the only place the whip was applied.

Jan had told her, however, that the whippings would soon change. The whippings became the highlight of the days, and every evening t,he whip- ping suite. was used. Pamela was pleased that on some of these occasions she had been chosen to watch a girl whipped, and it was no longer deniable that such occasions were sexually pleasant to her.

She became wet very easily from the sounds the whip made upon a girl's bottom, and the resultant moan or yowl. On two or three occasions, she had been chosen, along with another girl, to tie and bring a girl to the suite. This pleasure was most exciting as well, she had found quickly. To stand behind a girl and pull the rope tightly into her wrist flesh, or to draw her elbows delightfully together, produced tingly sensations in Pamela.

She liked the soft smell of a girl's hair or perfume, when binding her. She liked the Iittle gasps a girl made when the ropes were pulled especially tight, and most of all she liked the way a girl's breasts thrust out when the elbows were drawn together.

The rings were wonderful to Pamela. Nothing seemed to thrill her more than the feel of them in her body, and she began to doubt whether she would ever want.to be without them again. The nipple and pussy rings.weighed just enough to keep her constantly aware of those intimate feminine parts, and the nose ring touched the top of her lips just enough to keep her pleasantly reminded that she was a slave girl. The rings, in fact, were loved by all the girls and became items of great pride. They often belittled the older girls of Avon- dale who wore just nipple-rings without locking pins. Such babies they must have been not to have the pins put down into their nipples as well as rings through them! This was indeed the only way to ring nipples. Make a girl know she has nipples!

It was not only Pamela's own rings that were exciting, but of course it was in watching a fluff walk by with her rings dancing and bouncing so nicely. Some of the girls knew how t.o walk to make their breasts bounce sensually, and all of the girls had trimmed their pubic hair short to show off the rings there.

Being a slave was terribly exciting, for nothing so aroused a female as such a condition. Especially girls Pamela's age. Even such servitude as kneeling before Jan, or hand-washing her panties and blouses, made Pamela all tingly. To wash another female's underthings was quite exciting. For men, slavery was something to escape from, but for females… slavery was lovely, whether serving a master or mistress.

There was probably no other submission so erotic in history than for a slave girl to he led along on a lead attached to nose, nipple, or pussy rings, with her hands bound behind her. Such things had been done since ancient Persia, and still in 1972 it was the ultimate bondage for a female. It became even more erotic when the person on the other side of the lead was another female whose body was free of rings and bonds, for to have a female pull another along by her sexual parts was the utter apex of female-female relationship. A male at the lead could not begin to understand a female's emotions when led by her rings, but another female could and did understand them and thus it was, in a sense, the ultimate humiliation. Such was the case when Cassandra of Persia was captured by Mongol hordes in the first century. Nipple-rings had been thrust through her in public and Ghinta, the young Mongol princess, had personally put chains upon the rings and led Cassandra through the villages of her own homeland.

Pamela enjoyed having Jan lead her about the grounds and halls of Avondale on a leash to her rings. For men, humiliation is a tragedy. For women, it is sexually stimulating, and Pamela found it to be so. The five mistresses of Avondale took one or both of their slaves with them wherever they went about the school. It Was just simply the thing to do during the day, and it produced pleasant emotions in both mistresses and slaves.

Sometimes Jan attached her leads to Pamela's nipples, other times to the nose, or still other times to one or both pussy rings. Occasionally she used various combinations, such as one lead to a nipple, another to a pussy ring, and these variations aroused Pamela greatly. Best of all were the times that Jan took both Pamela and Donna together for a walk, for the two roommates were beginning to fall very much in love, and they thrilled to be led along by identical leads. Somehow a girl liked to share the same thing another did, and Pamela and

Donna loved to see leads attached to each other's identical body parts. Jan was very much aware of the increasing love between them and on one particularly delightful occasion in the garden, let, them have a turn leading each other about by nipple-rings. The result was two very wet young ladies!

How very much Pamela enjoyed the "costume"

Avondale girls wore. Stockings and garter belts, and heels, and panties. How lovely! Even the plainest of girls would look sultry in such items, which of. course was the purpose of Avondale's dress requirements! And how pretty that all girls were bare-breasted, thought Pamela. How utterly natural it was, like the jungle girls and girls of the islands. Such lovely things as breasts should always be shown!

Avondale reeked of femininity and female sexual desire for one another. How could it be otherwise with the wearing of such attractive intimate items? How could it be otherwise when girls watched each other whipped nude? How could it be otherwise when girls were made even prettier by five rings? How could it be otherwise when girls had their arms and hands tied behind them to show off t,heir lovely bodies'! How could it be otherwise when the girls were allowed to bind each other?

For Pamela and Donna, boys had ceased to exist.

Their whole world was a world of delicious young female bodies to play with love, It was a world where each day something observed or felt would suddenly cause wet panties. At first Pamela felt self-conscious of wet pants, and would change, but soon she realized that it was a bother. Besides, she saw that other girls didn't change. It was natural, and happened often, so why bother? Her desire for girls increased each day, and she regretted that she had waited until the ripe old age of seventeen to find lesbian love! Now that she had found it, she would never let go!

Pamela and Donna made love each night. It was no longer just a physical thing between them, but had become deeper and more emotional. Love was made on a higher plane, with much beautiful talking and words of care and dedication in bed. They definitely were falling in love. They were not possessive however, and several times a week slept with other girls as was customary at Avondale.

Within three weeks Pamela and Donna had slept with each of the other girls, and agreed with the other eight that bed-partners should be changed nearly every night despite certain couples being in love. It was a.beautiful and unselfish code.

Most of the girls naturally loved their mistresses too, but the physical love at least. was purposely not, returned by the mistresses until a possible future time when a mistress did indeed love her slave enough to return her tongue. This possible condition had to be earned, however. For mis- tresses to return the loving of a slave before such time would be wrong and would result in emotional conflict. The girls all knew this, and did not expect a mistress to return her love. Her love would be measured in her punishments,and it would be enough for her slaves to desire her.

Sabrina, the beautiful nurse, was desired by all of the girls, and no one denied it. She, in fact, often became the subject of girl talk in bed. Every slave wanted to get in her pants without exception. It was not that Sabrina was more beautiful than the mistresses, although she was quite gorgeous. It was just that she was such a total woman. She was married and had children, unlike any of the mis- tresses, yet she was openly lesbian as well and not one bit ashamed of it. She was not trying to hide anything; Girls were to play with and she knew it.

She didn't come on heavy in the lab or medical room, but just simply and naturally fondled a girl's breasts when they happened to be available, and on occasion had kissed a girl on the mouth, and once in a while ate a girl if in the mood. She demanded no return love, for she was not a mistress, but any girl would have given her right arm to bed with her. She just simply lived in a girls' world at

Avondale and acted accordingly. At night she was a dedicated wife and mother,

Sabrina dressed excitingly, because she made no obvious at,tempt to do so! She wore her mini- uniform beautifully and naturally, which exposed all of her long legs. She neither made a production out of the little skirt nor tried to let it show more than it should. She knew that it allowed her panties to be seen when she walked or sat but she simply didn't worry about it, and didn't concern herself with selecting white pants to wear under the white nurses skirt as most nurses would. She wore pink or yellow or whatever panties came out of the drawer in the morning. This attitude of neither trying to conceal her feminine sexuality nor exhibiting it purposely was terribly attractive to the younger girls, and they desired her greatly.

They had also heard that Sabrina often was permitted to try experiments and tortures on the girls in her lab. Somehow, this only seemed to make her even more attractive!

Even though Pamela and Donna loved each other deeply, they often played silly girl games in bed, pretending that each other was Sabrina, and calling each other by that name. But then, young girls were allowed such liberties.

Pamela and Donna splashed happily in the shower making girl-talk and squealing when the slippery bar of soap squirted to the floor on occasion.

"I just love being a slave, Pam," said Donna.

"It's so… sexy!"

"It is rather fun," answered Pamela. "Makes a girl feel all tingly it does. Sometimes when Jan leads us around on our leads I pretend it'-s ancient

Rome or something. Must have been great in those days for a girl! Too bad slavery isn't allowed today."

"You silly bird," laughed Donna, "There is slavery today. What do you think it's all about here at Avondale?"

"Well, hon, I mean real honest to goodness slavery… y'know, where girls are sold 'n' everything!"'

"Might have a surprise for you, angel face. Know what Maryl. told me? She says that Ravan has a file in her office of women in England who will pay to have a slave girl, either for summers on school vacation or full time! Most of 'em are graduates of Avondale themselves. Maryl says that when we leave here Ravan talks t,o us about all this, shows us the names, photos and stuff and lets us decide.

Good money, I gather. 'Course it's a matter of talking your mothers into it."

"Cor! Wouldn't that be smashing! Imagine spending summers at some nobby mansion in the country as a real slave… and earning money, too!

I'd pick a pretty woman, I would. We'll have to really do some talking with our moms, though."

"Know what else Maryl told me, Pam? Says we get branded before we leave here."

"Well, I knew that. Kathy told me that last week. So?"

"Right on both tits!"

"Cor, Well, I've read history books about slaves, and I guess that's where girls are branded. Seems logical to me."

Donna laughed. "You really are something, hon!

That's why I love you!"

After a brisk toweling of each other, Pamela and

Donna sat on their bed to put the rings back into each other's bodies. You simply didn't wear your rings in t.he shower. Pamela never ceased to be intrigued with the intricate nipple rings, and enjoyed putting them in Donna. With the rings out, as they were now, the nipples looked quite unusual. The clean open hole at their base was interesting, and the sensual hole down through their length for the locking pins left precious little of the nipples remaining. The nips looked like little hollow straws.

Pamela inserted the rings, centering their openings, and put the locking pins through until she heard them click into the rings. She pushed Donna gently back upon the bed and nibbled a nipple. She was constantly amazed about girls' nipples, for even though nearly stuffed with rings and locking pins, they still erected beautifully to a girl's mouth! It felt rather odd to suck Donna's, for instead of the soft normal feel, Pamela felt the hard locking pin within them. Well, at least it prevented one from biting a nipple, they had reminded each other jokingly several times!

What probably would have been a lovely romp in bed was interrupted by the entrance of Jan. Their mistress wore only a brief red bikini panty, much to the delight of the embraced girls on the bed, but it was what Jan was carrying that grabbed their attention at once. In one hand was an old-time whipping cane and in the other was a strap-on dildo.

Pamela and Donna squealed like children opening presents on Christmas, and came bouncing off the bed. They knew that there were such sex toys, but had never seen one. Its intended use was obvious and it brought the tingly feeling back, for although they were totally girl-oriented now they were definitely not off of boys… or at least boys' phalluses, either real or substitute!

Jan stripped off her panties and flung them across the room before sprawling on the bed.

"Eating time, slaves! Pussy dessert for you."

"Yes, mistress," said Donna, "we're hungry anyway. Might just gobble you up tonight!"

The girls had already planned their action. It was an idea they had discussed for a day or two, and there was no time like the present to try it out.

Both fell between Jan's spread legs and their twin tongues began an eager licking simultaneously.

Jan gasped. "Super! Never thought of that bit of action! Mmmmmm… I like it, I like it. Do it! Do it! Oooh, good slave girls!"

Pamela and Donna were most pleased with Jan's compliments. Mistresses didn't make any, if at all.

They flushed with pride that they had elicited her praise, and attacked her sex with wild abandon. It was fun, they discovered. Besides, they could play tongue games with each other at the same time, inside of Jan, and steal a quick kiss or two. Jan's wetness became pronounced and it was delightful to taste her cream on each other's mouth when they kissed. Jan arched and moaned in orgasm, nearly drowning the girls with her liquid.

Jan's hands were all tangled up in the hair of

Pamela and Donna, but naturally they hadn't minded. It was always a sign that a girl was enjoy- ing it when she put her hands in your hair.

"Know what I'm going to do with this?" asked Jan.

"Quite obviously you're gonna fuck us," said Pamela happily.

"Ever been fucked by a girl, slave?"

"No. But we wanna be," said Donna.

"Well, you're going to have to earn it," promised Jan.

"Yes, mistress. Anything you say," said Pamela.

Jan whisked the cane through the air, and the girls gasped at its sound.

"We still keep one of these old canes around here," said Jan. "Used to use 'em all the time on girls in the old days, even before the turn of the century. You'll each take three strokes from me, and one from each other, bending over and holding your ankles. If you let go your ankles, you don't get a fucking."

"Crikey," said Pamela. "Thing looks like it cuts a girl in half. Geez!"

"Stop bitching, fluff," said Jan. "Girls in the olden times used to get a dozen or more cuts, even in public schools. And I'm not talking about seven- teen-year-olds like you either. I'm talking about little moppets. Now let's see that butt, slave Pamela!"

Pamela bent over and grabbed her ankles, immediately feeling terribly vulnerable to the cane. The cane swished and made a loud "thwacking" sound when it reached Pamela's flesh. Her hair swished upwards and her lips peeled back baring her teeth, before a gurgled cry came out. Her bottom felt on fire. It took every bit of resolve to not lose her position when the second cut came, and the third cut made her do something she'd never done before. Swear terribly. Jan handed the cane to 'Donna.

"If you go easy on, your lover-girl, you get double."

Donna's stroke brought tears to Pamela's eyes for it had been harder than Jan's. She stood up and explored her bottom with her fingers.

"Cor, that thing hurts! Geez, look at those welts whip isn't hear as bad!" whined Pamela.

"Okay, Donna girl, your turn."

Like Pamela, Donna found this new whipping very different. It wasn't just the awful hurt of a cane. It was being whipped untied, and forced not to move. It was against a girl's nature to take it unbound. It was so much easier to be tied helplessly… but just to accept it took every bit of a girl's willpower. Donna did well, however, and did not break her stance for the three. Every girl's whipping reaction was different, like fingerprints.

Pamela moved her hips when the cane struck her.

Donna lifted her right leg. It had been rather cute.

Pamela accepted the cane, measured her distance, and sent it slashing across her loved one's rear. Before this stroke, Donna had only gasped, but Pamela's stroke was a bit much,

"Owwwwww, my ass!" she howled;

Pamela laughed. "Thought I could get some- thing out of you, darling."." Just you wait,". promised Donna. Bat she had smiled and kissed the tip of Pamela's nose.

Jan had strapped on the dildo meanwhile. and the two threw themselves happily on the bed. They lay open-legged, side by side, like two baby birds waiting to be, fed. Pamela's brown hair was short and somewhat curly, while Donna's pubic fur was black and silky. Made a nice contrast. Jan took hold of Pamela's pussy rings and pulled her entrance apart nicely, before guiding the phallus in with her hips. Pamela threw back her head in plea- sure. It had been some time since she had had a "boy."

Jan alternated back and forth between Pamela and Donna, giving each about a two-minute turn per time. Both were delightfully wet, and things did become quite messy. Pamela and Donna held hands, and squeezed when they climaxed.

"This isn't all for fun, y'know," panted Jan. She had worked very hard in her thrustings, like a boy would, and was perspiring. "In a couple of weeks you're gonna begin fucking boys on Saturdays.

Boys' school up the way, I'll make some good change off you two cunts. Custom here, you know.

Part of your training and punishment. So… got to keep you two slaves opened up a bit. Been awhile since you got laid, I imagine."

The girls were not surprised. Ravan had told them to expect such activity on their first day, and they had often discussed it. Better than that, they had accepted it as proper punishment for young ladies. If girls were bad, they should be made to screw, they had said. Yet, now that Jan had said it, it made them have the old tingly feeling again, for it just wasn't making it with boys, it was prostituting themselves to make money for their mis- tress! The girls knew of the pimps in Piccadilly and of the street girls who worked for them, but their own situation would be quite different. They would whore for another girl — Jan! Yet both knew that indeed that's what slave girls were for. To obey their mistress and do anything for her. If indeed they were to go on into slavery-hire after Avondale there could be nothing that they wouldn't do.

Jan had ordered the girls over on all fours. Vaseline wasn't necessary since the dildo was quite wet from the girls themselves. Pamela closed her eyes as Jan moved her loins forward, forcing the phallus into Pamela's anus. Nothing was said. All three females on the bed knew that females were taken in that manner, and had been since Adam and Eve.

Pamela was quite tight, and Jan slapped her bot- tom with a message from one girl to another. Pamela understood; and spread her thighs wider apart in a time-honored reaction to forceful entering of the rear orifice. Pamela's move helped, and Jan felt her shaft enter more easily. When she felt her own pubic hair touch Pamela's flesh she knew it was fully within the girl. She gave Pamela a good scene which brought forth some wild squeals, and withdrew only when the girl had simply collapsed on her stomach, flat out, in orgasm. Donna was just as much fun.

The two were exhausted, satiated and satisfied, and slept for an hour before awakening. The weals on their bottoms had long since been forgotten.

"Hey, look what Jan forgot," said Pamela, spying the dildo on the dresser.

"Silly loon," laughed Donna, "she didn't forget it! She never makes a mistake. Left it with us on purpose. It's ours! Heard her say so before she left.

You were out like a light, you were. Think with our boy-fun coming up she's left us a message?"

"Yep! Get in practice!"

"You want to go over and get it, darling, or want me to?"

"I love you very much."

"I know."

It was very true. Pamela and Donna were falling very much in love. Not just for sexual reasons, but for real and meaningful reasons. Pamela had never been really in love with a boy before, but she knew that she would fall someday and she always thought about just who it would be. It had never dawned on her that it would be, in fact, another girl! Their love came as no sudden surprise, for love just doesn't work that way. It came slowly but steadily, and they were very much aware of its progress. They did not know, of course, the century of past loves at Avondale, and at other girls' training schools. If they had, they would have known that it was very common and very natural for girls to fall in love under such circumstances. It wasn't the sleeping together and the shared sex. Most girls have lesbian flings with others. No, it was not that. It was instead the sharing of punishments, degradations and slavery used to change their lives. When two girls live together and share together under the whip and the chain, the emotional tie between them becomes very intense.

Boys do not share this unique situation, even if they too would share such bondage. But girls, and women too, are instilled with a mysterious sister- hood which is fully brought forth by the sharing of punishment. No one has tried to explain this phenomenon, and of course, it really isn't necessary to do so It is just accepted, like the ocean and the sky, and it holds true now as it did in the days of prehistoric society,

It is recorded accurately that when Joan of Arc was held in the dungeon along with another girl, a total stranger such feeling took place. Joan had been flogged, then the other girl, and upon their release from the post, they had fallen into each other's arms and they had shamelessly kissed at length, unmindfull of the surprised jailers.

Thus it was, most of all, the sharing of the punishments which had brought Pamela and Donna to their present love for each other, just as it was for thousands of other female couples undergoing the rigors of training schools in the past. Girl room- mates, or cellmates as it may be, were totally different than boys. Because of the peculiarities of females due to their unique bodily functions and conditions, their intimate part,s suffering the same punishments, and their beautiful concern and caring for each other, they were totally unique. These things came about each day at Avondale among all the girls. One minute they urged the whipping of a loved one, the next they applied lotion to her with tender loving hands. Boys did not concern themselves with each other's hurts and wounds. Girls kissed, and rubbed, and licked each other's hurts away. Pamela and Donna had often used their tongues on each other's streaked bottom flesh after a whipping. What further act of love and caring was there than for a girl to actually lick another's whip stripes to ease the hurt? Like kittens with one another, In Arabian harems it was said that slave girls licked the whip stripes of another, even though she may be complete stranger. Females were endowed with a mysterious desire to care for one another, for men did not tend to their hurts. Is it any question then why females fell in love with one another?

Yet, along with this feeling for each other, females knew that they were created for punishment, and thus who could punish a female better than another female? In medieval times, females were hired and used to torture women and girls in

Inquisition chambers and castle dungeons, for they better knew how to hurt another girl, sharing the same bodily parts and emotions. In Roman times slave girls were often ordered t,o whip another of their sister slaves, and the resulting flogging was far more terrible than if given by the master. It was as if females had a secret agreement to respect each other's pride, and thus one should always punish another harder than a man would.

Or, possibly, it was because a female who had received punishment herself knew just how much another could and should accept.

Pamela and Donna had talked about many of these things in bed far into the nights, as their love grew for each other. One thing they definitely agreed upon. Girls had as much right to fall in love with each other as they did with a boy! Anyway, who made the rules that say a girl must fall in love with a boy? Why? Why do girls have to marry boys? Why can't a girl marry whom she pleases, be it male or female?

These questions were not unusual. They had been asked over and over by Avondale girls since the middle of the nineteenth century. They were recognized by a whole line of staff and head- mistresses as being honest and meaningful concerns. And since the beginning of Avondale, it, had been a custom to answer them in a most beautiful way. In the early days of the school, girls were permitted to be "engaged" to one another, and the

"engagement" was recognized and respected by all the other girls. In the olden days, "fiancees" could be challenged and the two girls who desired the same girl had to settle the question by bare-fist fights in front of all. The fights were bloody and brutal, but in their way, most beautiful because of what they represented.

In modern times, girls at Avondale who fell in love were permitted to be "married" by the head- mistress. It was not a legal thing, of course, but it was recognized by staff and girls alike. Many graduates of Avondale had remained "married" after leaving school, and continued to live together in London and other cities, going through life fully carrying out the marriage vows just as if it had been with a man.

Thus it was that Pamela and Donna had gone to Ravan's office one lovely afternoon and announced t.hat t,hey wished to be married. She had kissed them tenderly and hugged them, and they had a date for a week hence.

The ceremony, being held on a delightful July afternoon, was held in the rose garden. Avondale's grounds were well walled in, and outside glimpses just were not possible by passers-by. Nude or partially nude young ladies had been Ied on leashes, whipped and bound all about the lovely lawns and gardens for a century while carriages and automobiles had passed just outside the ivy-coated walls.

All of the girls and staff naturally attended the ceremony, with appropriate weepy eyes on the.occasion. Pamela and Donna looked simply ravishing as they stood on the lawn in front of Ravan.

Each wore bridal white panties, white garter belts, white stockings, and white heels. Their heads held lacy white veils with knee-length trains in back.

White delicate chains of exquisite workmanship were connected to each other's nose rings, one nipple-ring, and one vaginal-ring, symbolizing the uniting of each other's most intimate parts. Their faces were beautifully made up with eye shadow and rouge, and their nipples and aureolas had been dusted with rose-colored powder.

The ceremony was not long, containing nearly the same wordage as would have been given by a minister, and at the end the ultimate questions. were asked by Ravan.

"Do you, Pamela Jean McNee, take this girl to be your lawful wedded wife?"

Pamela looked in Donna's eyes. "I do."

"Do you, Donna Patricia Carson, take t;his girl to be your lawful wedded wife?"

"I do."

"You may kiss one another," said Ravan.

The veils were lifted and the two embraced.

Tears ran down some cheeks in the audience. There was yet another task, however, as customary at

Avondale. Long ago, a headmistress had determined that such a love, and such a marriage between two girls, was indeed very special. And because it was, the two newlyweds should prove their love for each other. The idea had been well received, and down through the years each married couple had desired to follow the meaningful custom. Pamela and Donna had been told what it was, and agreed heartily to its use.

The custom was sometimes performed indoors, sometimes outside, depending of course on the time of year and the weather, Today was excellent for the outdoors, and a large oak tree would be used.

All watched as Jan, who had stood beside her two slaves at their wedding ceremony, tied ropes around the hair of both of them after first removing their veils and shoes. The ropes were hoisted over a large branch and the girls were pulled upwards until they hung totally by their hair. Both gasped audibly, for it was a most discomforting bondage. Nothing else was tied. Their legs and arms were free, and they hung face to face in intimate closenes.

For a girl to be hung by her hair, with arms and legs unbound, might often produce some frantic kicking and arm flailing. Unless, like Pamela and Donna, the occasion called for dignity;y and love, and they remained still. The problem of what to do with the arms was very simple. They simply put, t,hem around each other!

Another mistress assisted Jan with the use of the cat, and the simultaneous lashes echoed throughout the garden. Pamela and Donna knew their requirements and their lips met and held, not to be released until the whipping of their bottoms was over. What could be more binding and meaningful than for two wedded girls to share a whip- ping together while kissing? The symbolism and dedication was magnificent! It was true love, and neither girl would dream of breaking the kiss no matter how much the eat hurt them, for they knew that each shared the exact same hurt in exactly the same way. They would not spoil or degrade their dedication to each other by breaking the kiss, or moaning.

As the lashes cracked across their firm young bottoms, the heat rose like fire, and streaks and welts soon appeared through the thin panties. The force of the cat naturally. caused each girl to hurl her hips and loins into the other upon each stroke, and in very short time, the thrusting together of vaginas produced a lovely wetness. The kiss was held, and tongues found each other and entwined.

Arms gripped each other harder. Each girl found that she could actually feel the force of the cat when it struck the other girl's buttocks. They also could feel the whip-induced heat in each other's thighs.

Neither girl emitted a sound of pain as they normally would in the whipping suite. Not a gasp, not a cry. Just the kiss unending. Yet, they could tell when the other had been hit. The tongue would flinch just a little, or the mouth would open in a silent cry, quickly returning to its task of kissing.

The dedication and love could not possibly be measured during these moments, nor described.

The human body wanted to cry out in hurt, but they did not do so, and would not do so. Each drew heavily on love from each other. It has been said that a girl can withstand ten times the punishment given her alone, if she shares it with another girl.

Especially one that she happens to he in love with.

It was only when the punishing cat began to tear off Pamela and Donna's pretty wedding panties that it became very, very hard to remain silent.

Now each made tiny soft gasps into each other's mouths, unheard by the onlookers, and when these gasps occurred each tried to comfort the other by squeezing her arms tighter around her. Pamela felt Donna's panties finally drop off to the ground, at least what was left of them, and her own quickly followed. It was over! And it was probably one of the most beautiful love scenes in history! But it was not unique. It had been acted out again and again, ever since the first two girls fell in love!

Everyone left and the two girls, very much in love, were left to hang by their hair. They would hang all night, and they would comfort one another and they would kiss and speak lovely things to each other. When the hurt became too much they knew ways to deal with it, too. They would say sex- al things to each other, and they would thrust against one another. And they would have orgasms together.

In the morning they would be released and allowed to spend a day and night together in their room, unviolated by anyone, including Jan. And their passion, intensified by the long night of abstinence from each other's tongues, would be beyond describing, for they had shared!

In the following weeks and months they would belong to each other totally, yet, such is the beautiful nature of females, they would not be possessive or jealous. They would bed with the other girls just as often, and with the same passion and love that they showed each other.

Mrs. Marienne McNee,July 22. 1972

46 Queen's Road

Hammersmith

W.3 London

Dear Mrs. McNee:

This letter won't be long, as I want to get back to

Pamela, but it has been some time since I wrote, and I do apologize. The enclosed photos should speak for themselves. You certainly- have a delicious daughter. There's times I could just eat her up, but that will come later, if and when she earns it! You will be pleased to learn t,hat Pamela and

Donna have gotten married. Only legal at Avon- dale, of course, but who knows, it may last. You and Mrs. Carson may want to get together and drink a toast, to your youngsters. In fact, I'd suggest it. after all, it is a singular event in their lives.

The first photo shows Pamela and Donna making love in their bed. This is called a "sixty-nine" position, and is quite common among today's modern girls. They suck each other at the same time.

Quite nice feeling. The second photo, taken by Donna, shows me using a strap-on dildo on Pamela. She took it very nicely, both vaginally and anally. The third shows Pamela's bottom after four strokes of a cane. We don't use canes anymore like the olden days, but we have this old one around, and occasionally we let the girls feel it just to let them know what youngsters took in the old school days. Very nice marks, aren't they? The fourth shot is a close-up of Pamela's face with her nose ring and lead. I think nose rings are so sexy. (She loves it.)

I thought you would love having an 8x10 of Pamela and Donna hanging by their hair together, as is customary after the wedding ceremony. I've also sent one to Mrs. Carson. Aren't they-precious in their white wedding things! They're so in love, just look how they have their arms around each other! We whipped their pants off, per tradition, but I thought you'd rather have the photo with everything intact before the whipping started. I think it's a truly gorgeous photo. I know you must be proud. We will be starting the second month of

Pamela's term soon, and her punishments will increase greatly, but of course she requires it. I'll write again soon.

Yours very truly,

Jan Nelson

Marienne McNee read the letter three times, and thumbed the photos over and over, The enlargement went on her mantel. For several weeks she had been fighting a strange emotion which she simply couldn't place, until a walk in a delightful soft rain one morning enabled her to put, things in perspective. In truth, she admitted, it was jealousy of her own daughter. Well, not jealousy maybe. Perhaps envy was a better word. At night Marienne had fantasized that she were young again, and in a school such as Avondale. Pam's face had looked so serene and happy in the photos! Marienne McNee had not felt a whip or loved a female, and she regretted it more and more, as Jan's letters arrived. There was no question that the photos and letters hod begun to arouse her. It all seemed so natural the way Jan had put things.

Yet, she was only a lovely thirty-eight. Certainly still an attractive woman whose passions were still stirred. Perhaps… sometime soon… it may not be too late. If only… just once… she could feel a whip. But she had shrugged it away. It was 1972.

She had taken Jan's advice and called Donna's mother after some trepidation. Perhaps Lila

Carson felt much differently about what her daughter was accepting at Avondale. Yet, when Marienne had called, Lila Carson had received her nicely, and admitted that the enlargement had also been put, in a place of prominence in her parlor.

Marienne was extremely pleased, and had been invited out to Shoreham for the day. The place was only a village, and the Carson home was a quaint assemblage of frame house, carriage barn, and gardens.

She had found.Lila Carson a delightful woman, perhaps just about the same age, and most attractive. Well, of course she would be, from what Marienne had seen of her daughter in the photos.

The two had kissed at the door, just a welcome kind of thing, but yet just a little longer than normal. It was most apparent what it had meant.

They had daughters sharing the same school, the same training, the same punishments, and the same bed! It was obvious that Marienne McNee and Lila Carson would share feelings that another pair of mothers would not.

They had sat on the settee for an hour complimenting each other on their daughters, the "marriage" and their own acceptance of Avondale.

Marienne had begged to see the photos of Donna which Jan had sent, and had brought her own of Pamela. Both found each other very honest, and very open, and admitted without shame that they both shared some new and mysterious emotions.

They talked about them at length.

It was the apricot brandy which made it easier.

"Do you really fantasize about being whipped,Marienne?"

"Well… honestly, yes. Sometimes," Marienne had replied. "Do you?"

"I… don't know. There have been times… but then I think about the pain."

"Pam and Donna are only seventeen, and take the whip nicely," said Marienne.

"Maybe, I'd like to try it, sometime. Just once, to know that I have been whipped," said Lila wistfully.

"Yes… just once," said Marienne. "1'd like to share what Pam feels."

"Perhaps… sometime… we could try…" said Lila.

"With each other?"

"Well, who else would we dare involve?"

"I'll phone," said Marienne. She thanked Lila for her hospitality and brandy.

Neither said much more until Marienne's hand was on the doorknob. Both knew that when the door was opened their little fantasy would not ever happen.

Marienne released the knob and came back into the room. She said nothing.

"There is the old carriage barn," said Lila, blushing. "I do believe that there is an old carriage whip in there somewhere. And some rope."

Marienne had not replied, but, took Lila's hand.

"Come," Lila whispered.

The moment that Marienne McNee had felt her hands tied high to a barn post, she experienced the remarkable sensation that thousands, perhaps mil- lions, of females down through the centuries had felt. It was really indescribable for anyone, except a female who had experienced it, to try and ex- plain. It was… the tingly feeling. It was the helplessnees, and above all… it was the thought of what was to come.

Lila had suggested that she bare herself to the waist, but Marienne's fantasy had oft been treasured. It might well be her only whipping, and it would be like she had once seen in a movie at the Odeon, exactly!

"Tie me, and tear my dress down the back like they did at public whippings," she had asked.

"Don't pamper me, Lila. Just tear it and whip me.Twenty times."

Lila had brought the brandy bottle and held some to Marienne's lips before taking a swallow herself. Her hand trembled.

Marienne's blouse ripped easily to her waist, and her wrists twisted in their ropes in emotional response. A thirty-eight-year-old female was not old in any way, and her body, although mature, still curved nicely and her skin was still smooth.

Probably nothing is lovelier than a female's bare back, and it was not lost on Lila Carson. In front,Marienne's breasts were full and ample with long nipples. Lila thought of many things at that moment, but most of all, and perhaps rather strangely considering the scene, that pretty Pamela had come from this delightful body.

She was about to ask, but decided better of it.

After all, why spoil things? Marienne was her prisoner in their game and why not play the role? So she didn't ask, but reached around Marienne and held her warm breasts. A soft gasp escaped Marienne, and she let her head fall back onto Lila's shoulder.

The carriage whip made a frightening crack, and left a long red streak across the top of Marienne's back. Her hands clenched. As the lashes fell, Marienne did not cry out, surprising both of them. But she did jerk and her head flailed. Lila could not see that Marienne was clenching her teeth.

Lila was unaware of the sudden change in herself that the scene was creating. She also did not realize that each lash she put across Marienne's back became harder than the one before. The play had been duplicated thousands of times by thousands of females and was unexplainable. Even the timidest female who might have been forced to whip another, found her excitement and sadistic femininity grow with each lash she applied. And also her dominance. Marienne soon found that her courage of silence was meaningless and foolish, and began to respond to the lashes with vocal in- tensity. Lila found her moans most arousing, and whipped harder.

Lila was truly not the same woman she had been a few moments ago. The change was noticeable and very exciting to her. She ripped Marienne's skirt to the floor. Marienne's white panties immediately made her look very much younger. The last seven lashes left weals across the still-lovely bottom cheeks. With trembling hands she untied Marienne, who fell to her knees on the dirt floor in obvious emotion. The whip marks were terrible upon her flesh, and tears welled in her eyes as she whispered to herself.

"Oh, Pamela. My darling daughter Pamela. It was wonderful to share with you. I envy you now that 1 know. Be whipped, my daughter, hard and often… for I know now that females were meant to be punished so."

Lila Carson had not heard Marienne's soft words. She stood at the post with her hands raised to be tied.

"But you have seen what the whip did to my skin, Lila," said Marienne. "You wish the same?"

"No. Not the same. Thirty Lashes."

Lila's dress tore with a rip. Marienne's first lash made her cry out. Marienne McNee did not go home that night. Nor the next. In the Bed, the two women loved, and Marienne and Lila both gasped their daughters' names at special moments, and thought of them in each other's arms. Perhaps at this very moment!