"Sondra, however can I read my magazine when the bed is bouncing so?" said Stacy.
Stacy was propped up on her pillow reading
Fashions and Designs while Sondra caused read-' ability problems beside her. It wasn't all her fault, however, since John Palmer was giving her a mid- morning humping in a fairly energetic manner.
"Sorry, angel. Mr. John will be through in a moment by the feel of things."
Stacy smiled at her friend, and went back to trying to make sense out of the jiggling magazine.
Her hand found Sondra's and they held.
"Whoops… gettin' the syrup now, hon," said
Sondra as John completed his pleasurable task with the tan servant. John disentangled his lean body, recovered his composure and clothes, and withdrew from the room in satisfaction.
"Miss Victoria wishes to take us on a picnic this afternoon," said Sondra from the shower.
"Oh, good," replied Stacy happily. "Sounds like fun."
Victoria drove to a lovely little glade, deep with- in a stream-crossed stand of Southern pine and birch. Within the serenity and isolation of the setting, the fresh smell of pine was pleasant. The girls had prepared lemonade and sandwiches, and .they ate upon a spread blanket.
The girls had become more and more excited about Victoria Palmer as the weeks had gone by. It was, most of all, her age. At twenty-four, she wasn't all that much older than her two servants and, because this was so, she was barely more than a girl herself and still had occasional returns to girl games. Her punishments were accompanied by cleverly erotic teasing and wordages rather than just the simple issuance of physical discomfort.
She ordered Sondra and Stacy, at times, to call each other very naughty things and cheer on each other's punishments. These subtle delights were not lost on the two girls, and it made punishment very exciting at such times. During the sexual romps with their mistress, they were most aroused to witness the very girlish responses of Victoria. It was such fun to have so young a mistress, indeed!
"How about a game?" said Victoria, helping the girls put the picnic items back into the basket.
"Of course, Miss Victoria," said Stacy. They would have been disappointed if there had not been a game. Some of Victoria's ideas were quite good.
"It takes two people with breasts to play the game," said Victoria quite seriously. "Naturally only girls have breasts, and boys do not. Not know- ing what you are makes the game only a possibil- ity. I simply can't see what you are because of your clothes. I would say that unfortunately you prob- ably are boys who I have picnicked with. Oh well.
Shame."
Stacy and Sondra smiled in appreciation at
Victoria's happy little come-on. Both girls immedi- ately pulled off their blouses.
"See! We're girls, Miss Victoria! Real honest-to- goodness girls!" said Sondra.
"Well, I do declare, so you are! What a lovely surprise. I suppose then, being girls, that you wear' panties."
The excited girls stripped off their little skirts.
"Indeed. How sweet!" said Victoria, enjoying the charade. "Well, it looks like you definitely are girls and can play the game. Stacy, tie Sondra's hands to that high branch over there."
Stacy, happily, had her friend strung quickly in the age-old and ultimately favorite position of cap- tivity. Victoria took the narrow whip from the picnic basket.
"You must aim for a nipple, Stacy. This whip leaves thin but distinct lines. You must earn five points, and a point is given each time a line crosses the nipple or aureola. Those strokes which miss do not count, of course, so it is up to you to aim well to save Sondra a simply awful time of it. You'll find, because of the very pronounced flexibility of the whip, that it is not easy to aim accurately. Quite hard, indeed!"
"Oh, no," said Sondra, realizing the ramifica- tion. "Stacy, honey, for gosh sakes, take your time and aim carefully! "
"Do my best, lover," replied Stacy. "Hang on, girl, here we go."
The first swishing attempt was far off the mark, and streaked the bottom half of a breast.
"Golly, Miss Victoria, you're right! Harder than heck to hit her where I aimed. Bet you chose this whip on purpose!"
"Well, I just may have, Stacy. Come on now, buckle down and aim."
It took five strokes before one was even close to a nipple. The last one barely edged the pink-brown aureola.
"A point, Miss Victoria?" asked Stacy. Victoria, bent closely to the target area.
"Afraid not, Stacy. Just barely missed. See, look close yourself."
"Hmm. Guess you're right. Sorry, Sondra. No point."
"Well, for gosh sakes, Stacy, get with it," said
Sondra. "Golly, my nipples are big enough, how can you keep missing 'em?"
"It's hard, honey. The whip is so damn snaky. I doesn't hold its line. You'll see when it's your turn on me."
"Damn right I will," complained Sondra.
"Sondra," said Victoria, "it might be easier for
Stacy if you just lay your head back as far as it will go and just let her whip your breasts, rather than jerking around and trying to see where the line was. made. It doesn't help."
It made sense, and Sondra obeyed. Stacy set her lips and concentrated on the points. The eighth lash struck a nipple squarely. Sondra gasped.
"I know that was a point," she moaned. "Golly!
Hurt like hell."
The five points were finally garnered. It had not been easy, and were at the expense of a pair of breasts which looked like road maps, and a pair of pain-erect nipples which pointed like two fingers.
"Took you long enough," smiled Sondra, relieved now that it was over. "Now, girl, your turn!"
"Oh, oh," said Stacy. "I don't like the way you said that!"
Stacy lay her head back and offered her lovely targets to the whip. Victoria, happily aroused by the excitement of the game, sat upon the blanket and reveled in the sight of a pair of full breasts bouncing and jerking under the whip. Sondra was obviously more accurate than Stacy, and had four points in but just half the time. The fifth point was strangely hard to come by.
"Hey, Sondra, what's taking you so long to get the fifth point?" whined Stacy. "Geez, that's seven or eight now that you missed. Hey, you're not missing my nipples on purpose, are you?"
"Oh, of course not, darling. I wouldn't dream of such a thing." Sondra winked at Victoria, and her employer winked back. Victoria was delighted with the lovely little idiosyncrasies of girls. Eventually,
Sondra caught a nipple.
Stacy looked down at her criss-crossed breasts.
"Geez, just look at those tits! Just look at 'em!
Oh, Sondra, if I ever find out that you were miss- ing on purpose…"
"Oh, Stacy. How could you ever think of such a thing?" laughed Sondra.
"Why, you little bitch," said Stacy. But she smiled when she said it, and the warm embrace and kiss showed that neither really minded.
"Oh, my," sighed Victoria. "I am so turned-on, it seems. I'm so sorry I am with a couple of boys right now. If you were girls, I might just this once forget I am the mistress, and see what my tongue could do. But…"
Stacy and Sondra actually squealed in delight at
Victoria's little act.
Two panties hit the ground.
"See!" said Stacy. "We're girls. Look, real pussies and everything!"
"I do declare," smiled Victoria. "Well, how sweet. Come here."
The issuance of physical affection by a mistress is not common. It is a rarity, and certainly not something to be expected. If it occurs, it is. a most significant event, and one to be remembered. A , domestic so honored can consider herself rather : special in the eyes of her mistress. Sexual favor by a mistress to her servant did not mean that she was falling in love with the girl, although there are :,'isolated instances where indeed mistresses and
',"servants do fall in love. But the very fact that a mistress would tend to a servant is significant, for :,it is not done without some interest in the girl per- sonally. Indeed, it might well be the beginning of a love affair in its early stages.
Thus, Victoria's tongue was meaningful to the two girls whom she favored. The emotion and seri-
'ousness of the moment was not overlooked. There were no words of happy chatter or clever asides from the mouths of Stacy and Sondra. They be- came perfectly serious in recognition of the unique and privileged event, such as the stoic and earnest silence of a student upon the stage who receives his diploma. The occasion was dignified and rare.
It was not the feel of Victoria's tongue down there… it was the knowledge of who the tongue belonged to that was emotionally shattering. To :have your hands in the silken tresses of your :mistress as she administered her tongue was, in essence, Shangri-la. To actually climax and realize that your mistress drinks of the wet emission… a 'domestic could nearly faint.
Such were the thoughts of both Stacy and
Sondra, who were not asked to return the ministra- tions! It had been a unique and singular occasion where a mistress wished to give her love in appreci- ation for the many times that she had, and would have, received pleasure from them. Victoria palmer was a perfect mistress. They would fall in
love with her probably. Indeed, when the car ar- rived back at Briargate, both girls gave her a nice kiss before getting out and said the same thing to her, individually. I love you. What else could they possibly say?
It was during the second month when the girls actually saw their mistress get her first punish- ment from her husband. Not that she hadn't re-' ceived such punishments, it was just that such things were fairly private. Servants weren't called to witness in the South. If the servants were around it wasn't avoided, of course, but a special point of them being there wasn't initiated. Stacy' and Sondra had been in the pool when they had heard the unmistakable sound of whip-upon-female emanating from behind the house.
The curiosity of young girls is quite well known.
It was just simply impossible to have to hear such things without seeing. Stacy looked at Sondra, and
Sondra looked at Stacy, They nodded. They crept carefully to a spot behind a lilac bush.
Victoria was tied by her thumbs to a tree branch and her backside was nicely striated already from the top of her back to her thighs. John was concen- trating now on the swelling buttocks. The lovely young wife, well brought up in Georgia tradition, took her whipping beautifully. She had made- no sound as yet, but the consistent lashing now of her slim bottom, finally forced her to begin her opera of sound. When it was over, John passed quits close by the lilac bush on his way back to the house.
"Enjoy it, girls?"
Stacy and Sondra blushed hotly, Mister John had been aware of their presence all the time!
Would they lose their skin? But John was not annoyed at all.
"Girls, please fix your mistress so that she hangs by her thumbs. Give her… let's see… half an hour… no, make it forty-five minutes… before you let her down. I must get to the club for my golf game."
"Yes, Mister John." They breathed a sigh of relief from the thoughts of terrible punishment.
Snooping was a serious offense. Good thing Mr.
John had his golf game.
"Sorry, Miss Victoria," said Sondra as they shortened her thumb ropes. Sondra adjusted the ropes properly while Stacy held Victoria up off the ground momentarily. Stacy released her armful, and their pretty mistress swung slowly by her thumbs.
"Ooooh," said Victoria, softly. "Gosh, thumb- hanging hurts so. Oh, that's o.k., girls, you're only following orders. How long do I get?"
"I'm afraid forty-five minutes, Miss Victoria," said Stacy seriously.
"Ouch," laughed Victoria. "That's a lot. Oh well,
I'm a good strong Georgia filly. Guess it won't kill me. When you come back to untie me I must have another penalty. Tell you about it then. Bye."
The girls left, somewhat unhappily. After all, it was delightful to see their lovely mistress in so elegant a hang. It did wonders for her already per- fect figure. The time elapsed quickly, however, and they bounded back into the yard. Victoria's eyes were wet, and she rubbed her aching thumbs upon being released.
"Gee, we're sorry about your punishment, Miss
Victoria. Have you been crying?"
"Oh, just a little. It does rather hurt the thumbs.
Anyway, I certainly deserved what I got."
Stacy admired Southern ladies so. They never moaned or complained about punishment. Just admitted that it was deserved. Neither Stacy nor
Sondra had any misgivings about daring to ask what their mistress had done to be punished. Ser vants simply don't ask such things. Victoria went into the house and returned in white shorts and ridiculously tiny, white tank-top. The top was really quite worthless, for her nipples showed rather' erotically through the flimsy material, and the back fell so low that it was as nothing at all
"John has ordered me to go in and get groceries at the supermarket like this, so everyone can see the fresh whip marks on my back. And look that. had to put'on the back of my tank-top with a ing pen." She turned around. Stacy was unabling' stifle her gasp of sympathy.
I WAS WHIPPED NAKED AND HUNG BY HER THUMBS, said the humiliating printing.
"Oooh," said Sondra. "Gee, Stacy… rather rough for Miss Victoria."
"Never mind, Sondra, but I appreciate your sympathy," said Victoria. "John often says the degradation hurts more than the whip. It really does, you know. Well, let's get it over with. Why don't you come along to bolster my spirits.
The girls really wanted to. It was a rather cruel punishment. Perhaps they could help her over the rough spots.
The supermarket was crowded, but Victoria held her head high. It was not a unique punishment in the South. It was called "showing" and most everyone had seen a female "show" before, but it still wrenched the desired embarrassment from a misbehaving wife. The glances of appreciation
followed Victoria as she tried to ignore the situa- tion by selecting her groceries. The blazing, red streaks on her nearly bare back were almost elec- tric in appearance under the store's fluorescent lights. Other females pointed in pleasure. Females are not known to be sympathetic to one another, and the comments of Victoria's acquaintances were teasing and sharp as intended.
Beautiful stripes, Victoria."
"Must have been just an hour or so ago."
"Bet your ass is really something, Victoria. Will you show us in the washroom?"
And your thumbs, darling?"
John catch you fucking someone else,
Victoria?"
Jeanne, I'll bet John caught her with that girl, Julie, over at Martha's store. Everyone knows that Victoria wants to get in the pants. Really, Victoria, the girl is only teen."
Victoria flushed under the audible comments
– -aisle to aisle. The last one had stung. Victoria indeed mentioned to a friend once at the Coun- club that she thought little Julie rather sexy.
How such off-handed comments do get around in a little town!
If I were John Palmer, I'd have whipped her quite a bit more indeed."
Looks hardly more than a token whipping, :-"These young wives today just don't know what a gal whipping is." .Victoria, do you know that just everyone in here can see your nipples?"
"These modern wives wear such obscene things,
Harriet."
Gonna show her nipples like that, she ought to have rings. put in 'em to teach her a lesson. Make her come to the store wearing rings, I'd say."
"I'll tell you what I think, Mary Lou. I think she ought to serve another six months in slavery. Bid on her myself, and she'd find out what real punisb ment is."
The comments were not really made in serious ness, but part of the penalty of "showing" was humiliating the recipient. Obviously the town ladies were quite expert at sharply barbed tongue lashings. They were very good, in fact. Victoria's red misty eyes attested to her feelings. Stacy turned to Sondra.
"I think she's gonna cry. I feel sorry for her
Sondra. This is rough. Look at her poor back golly."
"Really, Victoria, I…" began yet another ver- bal attack from a rather stuffy-looking woman.
"Shut up!" exclaimed Sondra to the flabber gasted woman. "Shut up! Leave her alone!" One could have heard the proverbial pin drop in the store. Sondra took one of Victoria's hands, Stacy the other.
"Well, I never!" said the gasping woman. "Ser vant girl speaking up like that! Well, it's obvious that Victoria has two very dedicated little sluts in bed with, the way they defend her. The one who mouthed off looks like a half and half. Tell me
Victoria, do black girls eat pussy fantastically,like
I've heard?",311
Victoria's head snapped up. The game was over
She slapped the woman hard across the jowls.
"Don't you ever start that race stuff, Mildred
Van Gill! Sondra's a very beautiful and wonderful girl!"
A strange thing happened after the silence for lowing the confrontation. The teasing adversaries became allies. Applause broke out. Mrs. Van Gill left in a huff.
"Mildred's had that coming, Victoria! Good for you!" said a woman. "And we all think Sondra is precious. The other one too!"
It was a happy ending. The only further com- ments were nice ones. In the car, Victoria took a moment to embrace Sondra. The kiss was extra special, with tongue and all.
"Wow. That was some kiss, Miss Victoria," squealed Sondra.
"You deserve it, Sondra. Thanks for trying to help. I appreciate it."
"Well, one penalty to go yet," said Victoria on the way home. "John says that I must choose my own tonight. One that punishes me nicely."
Stacy and Sondra wondered what Victoria's fer- tile imagination would come up with. They found out when they were called to the employers' bed- room at ten. Victoria was chained by her wrists to the bed and wore a blindfold.
"Tell the girls what you decided upon, dear," said John Palmer.
"John is going to fuck you both right alongside me. I won't be able to see, just hear. I'll have to listen to your sexy moans and John will not fuck me tonight. It shall drive me crazy just to listen and feel everything near to me knowing I can't have any myself. A good punishment for a naughty wife.
The girls were stunned at Victoria's punisment decision. They had expected some sort of physical administration. Victoria was fantastic! The pun- ishment was going to be far worse than any whip or rope discomfort. Their admiration for her reached an all-time high
"Furthermore?" said John.
"Furthermore, I shan't be allowed to have you girls eat me tonight either," sighed Victoria. "Just spend the night chained like this, wanting to get off so badly. As you see, I can't even use my fingers on myself."
John took Stacy first, then Sondra. It was, of course, unavoidable that feminine arms and legs brushed against Victoria, or that she felt the bed bouncing… or that she heard the familiar cries of passion… or that she heard the terribly wet sounds of male organ plunging within female sex
At times, Victoria was caused to lick her lips un- knowingly, and her squirming and writhing in her chains never ceased. At times she made "ohhs" and "aahs" in desperate want. The bed sheet was soaked at the apex of her legs. It was indeed a most significant and punishing torture for a full-bodied young wife.
In the darkness of their bed, much later, Sondra and Stacy tossed and turned.
"Sondra, are you awake?"
"Yes, angel."
"I feel sorry for her in there. Chained and hotter than hell. Think we could get away with helping her out? He's probably asleep by now."
"Yep. If we're careful and quiet about it. Lost our tits if he catches us."
The two snuck quietly into the master bedroom
Sondra lay her finger on Victoria's lips. The blind fold was gone, but she was still wrist-chained to the bed.
"Shhh," whispered Sondra. "Want us to eat you?"
"Ohhh, God, yes," whispered the frustrate Victoria. "Oh, do be quiet."
"Can you orgasm quietly, without squirming or making a noise?" asked Stacy in Victoria's ear.
"I… I… think so… yes, I can."
Sondra took her first, then Stacy. It was near pantomime in effect. The eating had to be done softly, quietly and efficiently. Victoria had the hard job. It was unnatural to come in silence. Yet, somehow, she got the job done by clenching her teeth and making tight fists of her hands. Her only offering was the unavoidable emission of her sex cream at the moment of victory. It had been, once again, the age-old love story among girls who would do anything for each other. It was one of the world's most mysterious and hauntingly beautiful philosophies. Females were ultimately unique.'
Victoria Palmer motioned the two girls to put their ears close to her face. She whispered very softly.
"This is the second time today you've shown your love for me. I never knew two girls like you. I want to tell you something which I've only said once before… to my husband… I love you,
Sondra… I love you, Stacy. Also… I'm going to take you to the slave sale this Saturday, for being so damn nice to me today."
"We love you very much too," whispered Stacy.
"Have a nice night… darling."
It was indeed a presumption and a transgression for a servant to call her mistress by a word of en- dearment. Perhaps Stacy had gone too far in the emotion of the minute.
"I… like you to call me… that," said Victoria.
"I like it very much… and since I declared my love for you… you may use it… but be careful
… not around John… or anyone else."
Stacy and Sondra both kissed Victoria lightly on the mouth. "Good night, darling," they both said.
"Good night, darlings," said Victoria. "And… thank you."
The words had come sincerely from a mistress to her domestic help. It was as rare as a comet in the sky or a sun eclipse. Most domestics would never hear such words in their lifetime.
Slavery had existed since the beginning of time.
It was something that the world had always known, and always wanted. Humans of both sexes had been slaves, but, for the most part, it was the female who served in staggering numbers in every corner of the planet and in every age. Perhaps it was because male captives rebelled, and even died, in their fight against the chain. Females, however, were found to be receptive to captivity and thus created fewer problems for their owners. A male had constantly to be watched and guarded against escape and rebellion, for it did not suit his being.
Females fought capture too, with their limited capabilities, but once roped or chained became at once adaptable to their fate without much further rebellion. Unlike males, the female adjusted nicely to the rope and chain, and was quickly trainable.
Within a short period of time, a female slave could easily be left unfettered and unguarded without fear of escape. It was, in truth, as if they relished captivity once shown its virtues. Males hated cap- tivity, while females not only accepted it but seemed to thrive upon it. Punishment, too, did not suit the male species, but the female accepted it without question.
It was so in the court of the Roman emperor
Vitatus in 56 B.C. when Cyros of Athens and his wife Lelia were sentenced to double whippings for treachery. Upon application of the first, and during a move to another post, Cyros made a break for freedom and had to be speared by a guard. Lelia simply went to her assigned place, raised her hands to the shackles, and took the second whipping without complaint. Indeed, Vitatus proclaimed that she should accept the lost second flogging of her slain husband. After a short respite, she walked again to the post with upraised wrists, and took a third lashing. History records many identical stories of fact.
Slavery, then, existed in full glory from early man to the late nineteenth century. A veritable eon of time. For some reason then, society decided to abolish the practice for well over a century. This was, however,.only a short, brief respite as com- pared with the countless centuries before. It was a respite which was ill fated, for it returned again in many places in many nations with the full sanction of society. It was so in most of the Southern states of this nation, where it was deemed advisable and helpful for each young lady to serve a brief stint as a slave. It was found to round out her womanhood and improve her natural charms and capabilities.
Few people objected. Most of all, the females who had served.
Victoria chose to wear a lovely yellow summer dress to visit the slave sale at the county seat, and granted Stacy and Sondra the privilege of also wearing dresses rather than their maid's costumes.
It was a special day of fun for the females of Briar- gate, and the two servants weren't bound together as usual. Indeed, Victoria had suggested that they go as three girls rather than mistress and maids, an exception which produced excitement for all three. Thus the three were happy larks as the car
wound its way through the bottomlands of the
Bigbee River. Girl games were sure to be played before the day was over.
"Wanta exchange panties, Sondra?" asked
Stacy near Brownville.
"Sure, honey. Sounds like fun," said Sondra.
"I'd like to play too," said Victoria.
"Gosh, darling. You're our mistressl" said
Stacy.
"Well, not really for today, Stacy darling. We're just three gals today."
"Super!" said Sondra.
Victoria pulled into a roadside spot, and the three went into the woods. Skirts went up, white and pink intimates flashed and changed hands, and found new bottoms to cover.
"Sondra, your pants are wet. Shame on you," laughed Victoria.
"Sorry, darling. I've just been thinking a lot about what we're gonna see."
"That's o.k., honey. Feels rather sexy on me."
It was a rather meaningless little diversion, but who can rationalize girl games? They thought it was cute, and that was really all that mattered.
Stacy had thought considerably about slavery during most of her teen years. There had been a modicum of concern and objection from some quar- ters when slavery was re-initiated a decade ago, but a national ballot had given the states authority to either introduce it or reject it as they saw fit.
Twenty-three states initiated some form of slavery provisions, all varying in format and requirements.
No two states were exactly alike. Other states took a wait-and-see approach, and several of them added the provision over the years.
The initial objections from certain groups and legislative bodies were easily overcome. After all, most states required only a very short term of slavery service and, in addition, a young lady could choose her own time. Thus, it was not like the olden days when persons were cast into lifelong slavery against their will. Surprisingly, it was the women's groups who had manifested approval of the legisla- tion, and therefore the objectors had little ground to stand on. If females themselves approved of their own slavery, who could possibly object? In addition, it was a matter of equality of service. The equal rights legislations of the 1970s had brought military service drafts to both male and female.
This travesty failed in short order, for the military life and the loss of several thousand young women during the short conflict in the Near East raised a hue and cry of protest. Young ladies should not be killed as soldiers. Thus, military service for women was eliminated but social doctrine and equality called for service of some type. Short-term slavery was suggested, and approved.
In Stacy's home state in the north, slavery was not as yet adopted, but naturally the application of it in other states was most familiar to everyone. It would only be a matter of time before it was national. Even in Stacy's home state, however, provision was made for voluntary slavery. If a young lady wished to go into slavery she could.
Many placed ads in the papers in the same columns as domestics. Stacy knew several who had served.
The difference between slavery service and domestic service was basic. Domestics need have a well-trained ability in housework, cooking, social amenities, child care and family orientation. Pun- ishments, although sometimes issued for the em- p1oyer's pleasure, mainly occurred as a result of
sloppy work, mistakes or other household errors.
Too, domestic work was a paid position, and a well- paying one at that. After all, if a young lady was expected to accept the discomforting feel of the whip, her salary should be commensurate with the obligation. Lastly, she could quit her position at any time.
Slavery was somewhat different. A girl could not quit until her term was up, and naturally there was no salary involved. It was, more or less, purely captivity. Obviously, slaves were not expected to be domestics. Their task was to provide pleasure and to be available for punishment delights. Sex- ual requirements were roughly the same for both domestics and slaves, although domestics did have a choice to refuse such obligations. Few did, how- ever, for it normally resulted in loss of position.
It was natural, then, that most young women preferred to go into domestic service over volun- tary slavery, for it was a well-paid profession.
Those who went into voluntary slavery in non- slave states were those who had no domestic train- ing and merely wished to derive the inherent bene- fits that a woman reaps through serving. A self- improvement program.
Domestics could begin at fifteen, slavery at twenty-one. In the slave states, domestic service did not preclude the required slavery term before marriage, and when of age, they must also accept their slavery term.
In a definite sense, a domestic was a much higher level girl than a slave, such as a secretary would be over a female truck driver. On the other hand, the proof of slavery was the ultimate compliment for a woman. Her esteem was great in the eyes of others, for she had accepted the ultimate submission that
a female can make. The permanent mark of slav- ery, seen by virtue of low-cut blouses and swim- suits, was a badge of honor and respect. A girl who had served in slavery did not cover her brands, she showed them with pride.
In Stacy's new state, Georgia, a six-month slav- ery term was required before marriage of all young ladies. Some waited until the year before their marriage, some got the requirement out of the way as soon as they were twenty-one. A young lady who desired to marry before twenty-one, as many did, had a choice. She could serve her term at the younger age immediately, or she could marry and serve when she reached twenty-one. It was a fair doctrine.
As Stacy grew in her years she became more and more proud of being a girl, especially as she learned about their unique talents in respect to domestic and slave service. Could boys accept the things that went with it? Hardly. Naturally the cane and the whip hurt. Who said it didn't? But females accepted the hurt beautifully. They had accepted it since Eve, and always would. Stacy remembered her first domestic position, and her first whipping.
Slightly trembling, bound over a chair, panties exposed. She would of course die. But twenty strokes of a crop later she arose from her punish- ment, looked about, and went on to other things.
Just like her domestic teacher, Miss Cummins, said a girl would do. Of course it hurt quite a bit during the application, and it stung for a day after- wards but, heck, there she was, still in one piece, and surprisingly happy, and actually quite proud of the whole thing. A boy certainly wouldn't have reacted the same!
And slavery! That made girls extra special.
After all, the branding iron and rings put through the nipples? Wow. Yet, Stacy had never heard of a girl having to be dragged kicking and screaming into the preparation room. They just took it as a natural part of slavery. Was it any wonder then that girls felt so special towards one another? Was it any wonder that they made love with each other at any chance they got? No, definitely, girls had something special going for them.
Victoria parked the car near the county court house and the three of them entered the stately elm-cloaked old building. Others too were arriving" and Stacy was immediately aware of the dignity and good taste which was apparent in the people.
She had thought perhaps, not having been to a slave sale before, that people would be lined up for hours to get in, bustling and shoving for good seats. It certainly must be a very sexual thing.
Yet, slavery was not that new anymore, and the well-dressed people were calm and polite. If there was excitement, it didn't show in their leisurely pace and conversation.
An attractive court page met the people as they came in, trim in her pretty blue outfit. Victoria asked her the pertinent questions.
"Well, the slave sale starts at three, ma'm, in the assembly hall downstairs. The branding and nipple- ringing of the young ladies will be at 2:30 in Room
B, adjoining the assemby hall. If you wish to' attend that function, you must apply for a pass from the County Clerk, Room F, right over there.
Room B holds only thirty people, so we must limit the number of passes to the preparation of the, young ladies. Also, children aren't allowed for the preparation, but they may attend the actual sale and see the completed branding and ringing there, of course. You are early enough, however, and I'm sure that all the passes for Room B aren't gone yet."
"Thank you," said Victoria. "How many females are on sale today?"
"Seven, at last count," answered the page.
The necessary passes were obtained and
Victoria, Stacy and Sondra made their way to the basement room where they selected a first row trio of seats. None of the slaves had arrived as yet, for it was just after two, but slowly the audience grew and one by one the various young ladies arrived and sat in a special row of chairs on one side of the open floor at the front. Stacy studied the young women. All seven were in their early twenties, per- haps not more than three years apart from the youngest to the oldest. Obviously on this day there did not happen to be any young ones in their teens who planned early marriage. Stacy had hoped that perhaps there might be one or two her own age today, for Victoria had mentioned that two months ago she had seen a sixteen-year-old sold and Stacy had visions of seeing a young one with her rings and brands. No matter, the seven that were here were quite nice, and young enough. It would be fun.
Shortly before 2:30 a young nurse arrived with her carrying case and laid out her equipment on a table. There was the branding iron, electric, with a long cord, which she plugged into a wall socket.
The piercing needle and a small case of shiny rings followed, and then her application of cotton dabs, alcohol, burn ointment and towels. Stacy started to tingle.
"Sandy Bennett?" asked the nurse. A young lady with medium-brown hair stood up. She wore glasses and was extremely attractive.
"You may hang your clothes on the rack there,
Sandy, and pick them up after the sale," said the nurse.
The young lady reaffirmed Stacy's love for girls.
She undressed without hesitation, no particular blushing apparent, until only her white panties remained. She put her clothes on the rack, and her glasses on top. She was lovely! She came over to! the nurse and put her hands behind her, for the handcuffs, without being told. Stacy sighed in admiration. After all, the branding and ringing could be done in private without an audience. But why waste such an exciting event on just the nurse? It would be done to a girl either way; so why not let others enjoy it? Women voters had ap- proved of an audience. Stacy sighed again. Weren't girls wonderful!
The young woman was handcuffed, and brought to the center of the room to face the spectators
Her panties showed the triangle of brown hair. The nurse worked as much from the side as possible so as to not block the vision of everyone. The modern piercing needles were quite efficient. Unlike the old days where piercing was a laborious probing and thrusting, the current tool was spring-operated
The nurse centered the tip at the base of a fine looking nipple, flipped the tiny button, and the needle shot through with a loud click. The hole had been clean, large and perfect.
No one expected the young lady to show no sign of discomfort or reaction, of course, and she did so.
It was more of a gasp, or hiss, than anything else but all in all very beautifully accepted. The second pierce was made quickly, and the nurse dabbed
away the tiny trickle of blood. Various states used various size rings. It really didn't make much dif- ference to the recipient whether the holes were large or small, probably. Victoria had explained that in Georgia rings of one-inch diameter and of one-eighth-inch thickness were used, a fairly com- mon variety of good strength and showability. A pair was inserted by the nurse.
The magnificent sight of the shiny rings was most arousing to Stacy, and she held Sondra's hand in excitement. The young woman looked gor- geous with her rings!
The branding, of course, was more discomfort- ing. The young lady, knowing this, closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. The nurse held the glowing
"S" to each breast top for the required three sec- onds to produce a permanently deep mark. The bottom loop of the "S" was placed only a sixteenth of an inch above the top of the pink aureolas. The young lady screamed, very naturally, without res- ervation or shame. What else was she to do during the burning?"
It was expected by all, and delivered. It didn't make her any less a woman. False courage was not very feminine at all. Females are supposed to yowl.
The quickly applied ointment all but dulled and eliminated the girl's hurt, and she re-took her seat.
Her branded breasts were lovely!
"Joan Beckett?" said the nurse. Another arose.
The preparation of the seven young women was even more arousing and exciting than either Stacy or Sondra had anticipated. In fact, it was down- right a turn-on! It was no less for Victoria Palmer, for although she had seen it several times before, such delights never became any less arousing. The seven were led out to the assembly hall, and the spectators in Room B followed them.
For Stacy, the pleasures of the sale were every bit as exciting as the administration of the rings and brand, although quite different in nature from one another. The viewing of the preparations had been purely quasi-sadistic in the pleasure it brought. It was simply a matter of receiving voy- euristic delight from seeing physical application of hurt and punishment given to the young ladies' bodies. It had been a meaningful experience for
Stacy as well, for she was well aware that in the near future, somewhere, someplace, her breasts, would receive the same insignias of slave service.
In a strange sort of way, she looked forward to it very much.
The slave sale's enjoyment was just as exciting, but in a different way. It was actually more men- tally satisfying than visual. It was initially the display of the first young woman at the two post.
The binding was quite simple, for the female was shackled by each wrist high to the top of the spread posts forming the well-known Y. Yet, was there any more perfect way to display a female than the Y position? It enhanced every line and every charm delightfully, and had been used down through the ages.
But it was not really the sight of the girl that mattered. It was the very knowledge of what the scene meant that was so terribly erotic. Here was a perfect specimen of young womanhood being sold as merchandise! With her full acceptance! It was not a furtive, clandestine sale in some basement
Here were men, women and children present with full knowledge and acceptance of the offered girl
Indeed, for possibly some of the children in the seats, it was the first time they had seen a lovely young woman stripped to just pants for display and sold like items in the store. More than that, it was the marvelous philosophy of the ones sold, which was so tremendously erotic. Before specta- tors, they had accepted the hurt of the piercings and the brands without shame. Now, spread and displayed before families, they awaited their sale, inherent in which was the knowledge of many whippings and sexual perversions to come. It was the ultimate emotion for a young lady to be dis- played, nearly naked, realizing that everyone in the place knew how well and how often she would be sexually used very soon. Stacy marveled at the very being of females!
The slaves themselves were required to announce their own statistics from their binding posts.
"I'm Sandy Bennett, twenty-two years old, sin- gle, not previously married, no childbirths, five- foot-two, one-hundred ten pounds, 35-23-34 in mea- surement, bisexual, first sex with male at age thir- teen, first sex with female at age fourteen. My term of slavery is six months of total captivity and obedience. I hereby agree to any and all punish- ments I may receive, and sexual usage. I agree to my sale at this time and place."
To some it may have been a bit much, but the law required such specific statements so as to pre- clude any misunderstandings, and Stacy thought the required sentences were quite erotic. The bid- ding was enthusiastic, but unimportant to Stacy.
Some of the merchandise was sold to men, others to women, some to families. Upon completion of the sale, the owner bound the item, and took her home. It was as simple as that. But, oh the very idea of the whole thing was so lovely!
"What did you think of the whole thing?" asked Victoria on the way home.
"I thought it was super!" said Sondra.
"I think I'm in love with every girl in the world," said Stacy.
"Suppose we should stop again, and get our own pants back on?" smiled Victoria.
"Might be rather sloppy of an affair, darling," laughed Stacy. "I'm sure I can't have any cream left in me after all that back there."
"So?" smiled Victoria, pulling into a dirt lane.
June was wonderfully warm that year in Georgia, and the pool at Briargate was well used by all three females in residence. Victoria was a marvelous enigma during these weeks. In the pool she splashed nakedly with her two servants, playing the cute girl games in a manner far below her age of twenty- four. In bed, too, she squirmed and squealed more befitting a teenager than a married woman. She was careful not to forget her station outside of bed and pool, however, and played her mistress role with ever-increasing efficiency. She applied the whip firmly, and often, lest the triangular love affair becloud their relationship. Being in love with the girls did not in any way release them from their domestic level, nor earn them any less punishment.
In truth, Victoria's punishments were harder than normal because of the love affair. She knew that they would understand, and they did.
There were the occasional delightful afternoons at the Country Club pool as well, an event which
Stacy and Sondra eagerly looked forward to. It gave them a chance to meet other young female domestics, as well as some handsome young boys.
The latter were pleasantly looked forward to, for the life of domestics tend to be very lesbian oriented and boys are rather missed at times.
Thus, the Club pool gave Sondra and Stacy a chance to meet some boys, arrange some dates on off days, and of course get nicely laid by someone their own age. They quickly learned to play the game at the Club, as did the other servant girls who might be there.
You wore your sheerest underpants for one .thing, making yourself as desirable as possible ,when swimming. Secondly, you picked your "tar- gets" early. A handsome boy for a date, a cute domestic for hand games under the water. One obviously did not go after daughters of club- women. That was a no-no, unless one of them ap- proached you for water fun or a secretive later date. Many of the club daughters did approach and ask for dates, wanting to make a servant girl. But you didn't go after them. It was impossible to make a mistake, for club member females wore swimsuits and the servants wore panties only.
Club member boys, on the other hand, were permis- sible game.
I Victoria, Stacy and Sondra lay sunning on the pool deck at the Club when approached by little
Julie Moreland. The tyke wore a bikini, and like everything else she wore, it was tiny. Julie was i,eleven, but looked like nine.
"Hello, Mrs. Palmer. Hi, Stacy. Hi, Sondra."
"Well, hello, Julie," said Victoria. "Where's your mom?" :, "She's over playing tennis with Mrs. Bonner. I
Iike tennis, but I'd rather hang around the pool and look at the dreamy boys and pretty girls. Gee, the servant girls are an eyeful, aren't they? I mean… gosh, you can see just all of them!"
"Why, Julie," smiled Victoria, "you mean you're starting to think about boys and girls now?"
"Sure, Mrs. Palmer. Gosh, I am eleven."
"Been out on a date with a boy yet, Julie?"
"No, not really. Mom says I'm still too young.
Parents, yuchh! See that boy over there? Tim
Hillary. He's kinda my boyfriend. Got kissed by him, once. Gee, I liked it a lot. We swim here to gether quite a bit, and sometimes he kinda holds me by the waist in the water. He's dreamy!"
"Have any… girlfriends, Julie?"
"Well, no, to be honest. Boys are my big interest now. Kinda like to look at the servants here though
… I mean, all but naked, you know. Have had some thoughts about girls lately. Maybe that means I'm growing up. Then again, I know what boys and girls do together, and I'm not really sure about girls yet… you know… I mean… what they do together and all."
"Well, they do have fun, Julie, believe me," said
Victoria, fantasizing about the moppet. Victoria simply' couldn't help it. There was just something appealing about young Julie Moreland. For the last year, Victoria had visited Martha's Boutique more than necessary.
"Well, anyway, Mrs. Palmer, I have been mean- ing to ask you, how were the wrist and ankle fit- tings on the chains for Stacy and Sondra?"
"Oh, Julie, I have meant to tell Martha what good job you did on them. They fit the girls per- fectly, don't they, girls?"
"Just perfect, Julie," said Sondra. "Miss Victoria uses them on us quite a bit and you really can't to they're on. No squeezing, no chafing. Just right
"Oh, I'm glad. I try to be so careful with the measurements. Martha is going to let me stay making whips this fall. I'm very good with leather
Would you buy my first one, Mrs. Palmer, to use on.Stacy and Sondra? I'll make it perfect!"
"Of course, Julie. By the way, your mom and I are very close friends, so would you mind calling me Victoria?"
"No, if that's what you wish. Better tell my mom you gave me permission, though. Tells us young ones to respect our elders."
"That's very correct, Julie, but heavens, you make me sound ancient when you say 'elders.' I'm only twenty-four… still a girl myself."
"Yes… I can see that… Victoria."
Victoria tingled. Julie had not meant anything by the statement, but Victoria read a fantasy into it. The tyke didn't know the least thing about les- bianism. Maybe somehow, she the spider, could lead this little fly into the trap. Someday.
"Getting spanked by Martha, Julie?"
"Not as much anymore. Don't make as many goofs as I used to. Guess I got tired of sitting on pillows." Julie laughed. "Oh, heck, 'bout forgot to ask you what I came over here for, Victoria. As you know, Mom is in charge of the Plantation Charity
Day coming up a week from Saturday. Be held at
Bush River Plantation, you know, the Wilson's place. She wants to know if you'll volunteer your services again this year, Victoria."
"Of course I will, Julie. Do you get to come?"
"No, darn it. Have to be fourteen, us kids. What a gyp! Anyway, Mom wants to know what you'll do this year."
"Doesn't matter, Julie. Tell her whatever she wants I'll do. Does she have any preference?"
"She said you served as one of the whipping girls last year… took an awful lacing most of the day
… Mom thought maybe you'd like a change this year and serve in the whore tent."
"You can tell her I'll be glad to sell my pussy for charity, Julie."
"Thanks, Mrs. Palmer… I mean, Victoria. I'll tell her. Bye!"
The Plantation Charity Days were held in June and October. They had begun several years before and were one of the highlights of the local higher society echelon. Indeed, only the top-register socialites and families took part in the affairs. The general riff-raff of public certainly were not in- cluded in the exclusive sophistication which took place at one of the immediate plantations. The invitation-only events brought perhaps a hundred and fifty of Georgia's finest blueblood lines to- gether, twice a year, in what was certainly appeal- ing circumstances.
The young ladies who volunteered their services to provide the interesting entertainment were, of course, also wives of this same social register, plus some rather lovely debutantes within the family structures. Considerable funds were raised for charities and organizations, thanks to the willing- ness of these blooms of Southern womanhood to suffer the trials and tribulations for good cause. It was indeed a credit to these fine young ladies, and volunteers were never lacking. To be asked and refuse was certain to cause repercussions and a rather prompt deletion from the social lists as well as a nonrenewal of Country Club membership. This as yet had not been necessary. The willingness was unanimous. It might be mentioned that the Char- ity Day affairs were not covered by the media. In fact, media personnel were not invited at all. It was an exclusive, discreet and private function. However, it was not a secretive function. Charity Days were quite common in the South in most areas, and the public as a whole was well aware of the activi- ties which took place, and naturally was envious of being excluded by lack of social standing.
Victoria, Stacy and Sondra arrived at Bush
River Plantation at noon as required, parked, and began to mingle with the many guests, most of whom already carried mint juleps in frosty glasses.
The "entertainment" girls were readily obvious among the crowd, for, by tradition they wore lovely Civil War period gowns of taffeta and silk with shiny bodices and full, flowing skirts. They looked marvelous and delightful, and could have stepped from the pages of Gone With the Wind.
They were the South's greatest treasures. There were, perhaps, a dozen of them.
Victoria Palmer looked stunning in lavender taffeta, her lacy bodice revealing the majority of her fine breasts with their perfectly centered "S" brands. Stacy and Sondra had gasped at her beauty when they had helped her dress earlier.
Victoria mingled, her two servants tagging along, with many friends and acquaintances who properly fawned over her costume and her two employees. Of course there were also those few who were not particularly friends. Pretty young women within the same local society occasionally had their differences of opinion, normally initiated by some petty jealousy between them. Such was the case of
Nancy Lee Smythe, a particularly ravishing bru- nette and wife of the Country Club manager. It had started in the pool over the attentions of a new member, an elegant little blonde from Carolina, who seemed unable to make up her mind between the obvious attentions of Victoria and Nancy Lee.
In truth, the newly married flirt, happily and craft- ily, encouraged the ongoing tussle over her, hoping to reduce her two admirers to combatants. She suc- ceeded. The fight took place one evening in, of all places, the Country Club parking lot in front of an ever-increasing audience of delighted club mem- bers. Even the husbands of the two were not about to stop the excitement. Nothing like a good old- fashioned Southern catfight. There had been hair- pulling, fists thrown, biting, scratching, clawing, snarling, cursing and yowling. Lovely clothes were reduced to shreds and, by the end, they were both in their skin, still swinging away. Victoria had given Nancy Lee a frightful pummeling. Ironically, the mischievous instigator from Carolina turned her attentions to another young lady the very next day. The fight, however, had not been forgotten, especially by Nancy Lee Smythe, and the two ladies had not spoken at the Club since.
Victoria saw Nancy Lee approaching with a tall drink in her hand.
"Why, Victoria darling! How nice to see you."
The words were cooler than her mint julep. "I understand you'll be in the whore tent today. How nice, and how very fitting! I was rather hoping you'd be a whipping girl today. I was prepared to write a rather large check to see you get your skin peeled off, inch by inch. In fact, I might have underwritten the whole afternoon of it. Wonder if a girl ever took a thousand lashes?"
"Why, Nancy Lee, aren't you sweet! How nice to see you. My, your black eyes have healed nicely, haven't they? How come you're not on the enter- tainment committee this time? Cold feet?"
"Not at all, darling. Agatha Moreland put me on finance. I did volunteer for entertainment. I'll serve there in October. Well, it's a shame I won't see you get hided, but the whore tent is just your style anyway. I'll buy your services, believe me, and you'll earn every dollar of it!" Nancy Lee left, smiling smugly.
"I'm afraid I'm in for a rough time with her when she lays down her money," laughed Victoria to her two girls. "Oh, well. By the way, girls, it's almost one o'clock. Have to get my pussy over to my work station. You're on your own until five when it's over. Walk around, see the sights, enjoy yourselves. Here's fifty dollars each for you. Spend it wisely. Come get me at five to go home. Might have to carry me to the car!" Victoria laughed sweetly. In the eyes of Stacy and Sondra, she was the ultimate woman. How they loved her!
"Bye, darlings. I'll miss you," she said.
The festivities started soon, and Stacy and
Sondra walked around the large lawn and gardens, dotted by several tents, mint julep stands and booths.
"Hey, look, honey… a kissing boothl" said
Stacy.
"Oooh, she looks nice," said Sondra. "Five dollars a kiss. Want to try her out?"
"Sure. Let's go."
"Hi!" said the dark-haired Georgia peach within the booth. "First customers!"
The girl could kiss. Her arms went around them in turn, her warm body pressed delightfully into theirs. It was a money's-worth kiss which lasted well over a minute, and included some fancy tongue acrobatics. The day was starting out fine!
The whipping posts were arrayed along the row of forsythia bushes near the rock garden. There were five posts, and naturally, five young ladies.
Each, in her colorful gown, stood in front of her own post, generally smiling and trying to look as pretty as possible. As the afternoon wore on, the smiles would be harder to come by.
The rules were very clear and simple. Each lash sold for ten dollars. The contributor, however, did not perform the exquisite punishment. As the day went along, and copious amounts 'of juleps were consumed, to allow the contributor to apply the strokes became rather risky. The girls were to be flogged, not peeled into bits. Thus, college girls who volunteered themselves for many county works without pay, were rewarded by doing the whipping. Sober and enthusiastic, they did the task efficiently and delightfully. There was no charge obviously for onlookers, so one could enjoy an afternoon watching the world's oldest punish- ment for free. However, this was not taken advan- tage of. It was quite undignified to stand around without contributing. One whipping, or two, was allowed without eyebrows raised, but then a by- stander was expected to move along, and not return until later perhaps, and then definitely con- tribute. One who expected such delights for free was not invited back next time. There was cer- tainly no money problem among the guests, how- ever, and most watched only when they paid.
Stacy and Sondra arrived to find the second girl in line peeling off her gown. A donator had chosen her, and had written his check in behalf. A donator paid only for the number of lashes given, and he or she had no privilege in selecting where the lashes would be placed. This was determined by the col- lege girl who applied the lash, and she obviously placed them in equal ratios on back, bottom and breasts so that the poor girl wasn't used up in one
spot.
If one spot was well used, the college girl avoided it the best she could. Additionally, if one or two particularly interesting girls were being selected more than the others, it was the right of the college girls to choose another. This was to be avoided if possible, for the contributor was expected to be able to select his or her choice, but sometimes it was necessary if one girl became obviously over- whipped.
Indeed, this was a further reason for using the college girls. Sober and alert and efficient, they were able to determine when a girl had had enough for a while. Not that they were fooled by tears and yowls and entreaties. Not at all. Being females themselves, they knew well how much each girl could and should take. Screams, moans and bawl- ing of tears meant nothing. The marks on the skin were the telling criterion. Thus, the college girls were excellent choices to handle the task. There was one college girl for each recipient, and they talked and chatted together while awaiting cus- tomers. To a passing person, one would never think that one would soon be whipping the other. Girls were so unique.
Stacy and Sondra watched the girl undress. It was lovely as she peeled off bodice, skirt and petti- coats on the lawn. Only the girl's modern panties deviated from the period costume. Pantaloons would have been a bit much, and not very sensual.
Her whipper, dressed in white shorts and T-shirt like all the college girls, carefully took her clothes as they were handed to her and lay them carefuly on the grass, for they need be put on again each time. The stripping was part of the delight. The recipient stretched her slender arms upwards to the top of the post, where the hands were tied with good old-fashioned rope,
To Stacy and Sondra, the exciting scene could have been right out of the middle nineteenth cen- tury on a provincial plantation. In truth, that was the general idea of the whole thing. A period whip- ping in the old tradition. If only the college girl wore a silk blouse and riding breeches! In fact, such costumes for the college girls were being con- sidered for the next Charity Day.
The girl at the post could have been from any century or history book. They had varied little from Eve. The slender back, creased with its de- lightful narrow valley, the swelling bottom, per- fectly devoid of any unintended lines, the firm thighs and calves, the well-nippled breasts panting slightly in anticipation of the whipping to come, the soft face of submission and acceptance, the pouting mouth, the flickering eyelids.
The first lash was always the important one to a recipient. The anticipation was great, and the gasp or hiss which it brought was more a gasp of relief than pain. From then on, it was a matter of work- ing into the hurt until the yowls came easily and often. The contributor had paid two hundred dol- lars, so it would be twenty for the girl. The college girl was very good with her whip, lacing the back and the bottom about equally, before asking the girl to turn around. She did so nicely, and took the last portion upon her breasts which bounced prop- erly under the well-applied strokes. She was un- tied, and her punisher sweetly helped her with her clothes. The girl licked her lips to eliminate the dryness there, and took her place at her post again to await further selection.
It had been exciting for Stacy and Sondra, and without realizing it, they joined hands somewhere during the whipping. When they were aroused they had an unconscious habit of holding hands.
"I want the fifth girl whipped," said an attrac- tive debutante type of rather tender age. "We're roommates in nurses' training and very, very close friends."
The onlookers murmured their approval. The girl's meaning was delightfully clear. Well, why not, thought Stacy. I'd have Sondra whipped if she were there.
The recipient was under twenty-one, and was the only one of such age. She was, perhaps, eighteen or nineteen. Even Charity Days were governed by a few regulations, and by law only females over twenty-one could be whipped totally nude in "pub- lic" functions. In private, no such regulations applied, of course, and no age rules. So, unlike the first girl, this one left her panty on. The regula- tions, of course, only pertained to the beginning of the whipping. If the poor girl lost her underpants piece by piece as the day went on, well, that just couldn't be helped. Couldn't expect a girl to bring along extra panties just to abide by a regulation.
"Three hundred dollars," said the young contrib- utor. "Twenty-five lashes."
The recipient turned her head back from her bondage at the post, and stuck her tongue out at her purchasing friend.
"Vetta, you fink, you said you only had a hun- dred dollars!" It was said with a smile, however.
"Surprise, Judy! All of this week's wages!"
"Oh, I'll get you, I will!"
The girl howled nicely under her lashes, which were urged on to greater force by the prodding requests of her cheering friend. Since it was early
in the day, the college girl obliged and lay the whip on heavily, especially in front, where.two rather swollen nipples testified to their punishment.
When it was over, the girl once again stuck her tongue out at her satisfied friend.
Stacy and Sondra decided that they had used up their welcome at the posts, at least for now, and partook of a julep near the fish ponds.
The "special" tents were scattered about the lawn. Here, a onetime punishment would be offered and spectators were charged admission. The fees were set according to the scope of th.e "punish- ment" and signs on the tents indicated the punish- ment, fee, and time of performance.
The girls decided to spend ten dollars at two thirty to watch a long-haired beauty have her hair cut off. Surprisingly, Stacy became very aroused, dampening her panties quite well, at the punish- ment. There are punishments and there are punish- ments. Some hurt, physically, some hurt mentally.
Some of the latter are actually more exciting as
Stacy soon realized. The college girl clipped with scissors, sheared with a barber's electric razor, and the dark-brown tresses flew everywhere. Lastly, there was shaving foam and a razor until the squirming girl was beautifully bare on her lovely head. Her hands had been tied to the back of her chair to add eroticism. The girl was obviously aroused by her punishment. Stacy and Sondra stood in front of her and the girl just couldn't keep her legs from squirming apart occasionally. By virtue of her widely spread skirt and petticoats at . times, Stacy and Sondra could see back to her panties once or twice and the pink nylon crotch was wet.
"Now," said the college girl, "it will be ten dollars more if you wish to stay and see this lovely girl lose her pussy hair as well. She'll be tied naked atop that table. Ten dollars for shaving it off, twenty dollars if you would like to see it pulled out with pliers."
The spectators murmured and babbled together.
"How much hair is she gonna lose?" asked a woman.
"All of it," said the college girl. The decision was unanimous. The fund would be excellent from this tent!
The college girl did it slowly and expertly, and it took nearly twenty minutes. It hurt the bound girl very much, it appeared. She was plucked, strand by strand, tuft by tuft, with pliers, and her screams were extremely forceful. She cried quite a bit.
At the end, she gave a terribly deep sigh and pro- claimed, "Oh my God."
The performance had taken its toll. Several of the men made their way to the men's room to re- pair themselves with paper towels.
"Sondra, what's the matter?" asked Stacy.
"You're standing there all funny-like."
"Came in my pants, hon. Gee, that turned me on!"
Stacy took a minute to talk with the depilated girl as she dressed.
"Miss, I think you're wonderful to go through
… that. You had such a beautiful head of hair. . That was a fantastic sacrifice for the fund."
"Oh, thanks. It'll grow back. I appreciate your nice words."
"I just think girls are fantastic!" bubbled Stacy;
"Aren't we, though."
"Gosh, we've spent thirty-five dollars already!" said Stacy. "Thirty dollars in that tent. But it was worth it!"
"You know it, angel. We'll have to go easy though."
They walked around for a while, making one brief foray back to the whipping posts. It was now three thirty, and the toll of the whips was obvious.
The girl who was just finishing was a zebra from neck to thighs, on both sides. Her punished breasts were covered so perfectly that one could not really make out her nipples anymore. The girls had long since stopped putting on their clothes, so disco- forting were they now, and stood naked. The young fifth girl had lost her panties to the whip, only a ragged waistband remaining, and she revealed now her furry triangle like the rest of her compatriots.
"Gee, look at 'em," sighed Stacey. "And an hour and a half to go yet!"
"Yeah. I'm in love with them all," said Sonar.
"Are they ever getting it."
The girl who had just been whipped was selected again, but her whopper was sympathetic, and sung- gusted another choice.
"It's o.k., Betty," she said softly. "I'll go again."
She put her hands up to the post. The college girl tied them. The lash was half strength on her bottom.
"Do it right, Hon," sighed the girl. The next sounded like a gunshot across her quivering but- toques. The girl was bowled out by now. She merely slumped against her post and took the lashing in silence. The college girl had to turn her for the breast lashes, and the hapless girl merely looked down and watched her breasts bounce. Stacey and
Sonar left with a sigh of admiration for all females everywhere. ."Wonder how Miss Victoria is doing," said Stacy as they walked along.
"Probably pretty good," said Sondra. "She's a real woman! Hey, look over at that booth! Breast milk, ten dollars! Geez, we just gotta try that, angel!"
"Holy cow, I'll say. Come on, Sondra. Gosh, al- ways wondered about how it would taste! It'll be super sexy. Did you ever see Lanya of the tungle on TV?"
"Sure have, hon. Marlene Parkins is some classy chick. Gosh, I used to just diewhen she spurted her milk all over. That girl is like a faucet! Made me have a climax once even. Just on TV! Let's go…
I'm tingling."
"Hi!" said the two young women in the booth.
"Going to buy our wares?"
"You bet!" laughed Stacy. "Gosh, have you two been here since it started? You must be regular dairies! "
"No… of course not. We come on at three. Four shifts of us creamers. Well, how do you want it, in a paper cup or straight from the tap?"
"Paper cup?" laughed Sondra. "Blah, that's no fun at all."
"Well, some of the stuffier customers don't wish to lower their 'dignity.' But it's a lot more fun natural. Get our bodices undone… there… o.k., hop up on our laps and slurp away."
Stacy and Sondra nearly squealed in joy as they plopped themselves on the lovely laps.
"How much do we get for our ten dollars?" asked Stacy.
"Well, within reason, you know. There are other customers to come along."
It was magnificent! Utterly magnificent. Stacy actually squirmed as she nursed. The sensuality was marvelous, helped along nicely by the young lady's arms which encircled Stacy. In time, the girl's response to Stacy's feeding became rather obvious, and her hands twisted and toyed with
Stacy's tresses.
"Oh, that was super!" sighed Stacy. "You taste delicious!"
"Better for you than mint juleps too," smiled the volunteer. "You're the youngest I've suckled so far. You were fun, honey girl. Got me turned on a little. Well, thanks for your contribution, girls.
Bye, and have fun."
Stacy and Sondra walked in a happy daze across the lawn.
"Aren't females just wonderful?" bubbled
Stacy. "There's just so much they have to offer, golly!"
"Yeah, and we're down to five bucks, angel," said Sondra.
The sign at the tent proclaimed: BRANDING – FOUR P.M.- MELANIE WILLIAMS – TWENTY- FIVE DOLLARS.
"Oh, gosh, and we're right of funds, darling!" pouted Sondra.
It was still fifteen minutes early, and no one was at the branding tent as yet except the college girl.
She poked and prodded the red coals within a port- able camping stove wherein the iron rested.
"Maybe… just maybe…" said Stacy.
"What idea has struck your naughty head now,
Stacy?"
Stacy went up to the attractive student with her sexiest smile. She couldn't have stood any closer to the surprised girl.
"We do want to see the young lady get branded, but we only have ten dollars between us," she pouted prettily.
"Sorry, honey. It's twenty-five apiece. The girl has her hide on the line and we want to take in a lot of funds here."
"Oh, I see… darn it… we're only servants… and we don't earn much."
"Servant girls? Hmm. Gee, I don't know…"
Stacy flattened herself against the girl. "We could make it… worth your while, darling."
If there were any full-bodied young females who could resist a Stacy and a Sondra, they would be rare. The college girl surrendered easily. She looked around the area quickly.
"We have fifteen minutes. Close the tent flap and latch it."
Stacy and Sondra did a job on the girl. It had to be brief, but it was highly efficient. They got in for ten dollars.
The tent was full. The recipient was tied face down on a table and the college girl gave one last shuffling of the iron in the fire. Branding was fairly common in the South these days. All slave-service girls and a few servants were adorned, the former with the "S" on their breasts, and the latter with . employer's marks on various bodily choices. As in the court house sales, branding was done with a modern electric iron. Here, however, it would be done in the old tradition with coals and iron. It fit the format of the Plantation period theme, thus it was very exciting to anticipate.
A great show or performance was not necessary by the college girl. It was just a simple matter of pushing up the full taffeta skirt, pulling down the wispy panties, and laying the brand on one lovely buttock. When it was over, the recipient bore
' "C-D" for Charity Day on her right cheek. The oral response was satisfying but unusual, for it came forth in the form of a gurgle of sound, uttered prob- ably by the unexpectedly terrible hurt involved.
The girl's strange cry was almost as if she didn't believe the pain could be so intense. But, of course, it was. She had swung her hair back and forth and hissed like a snake before the college girl applied the relieving salve. But then she lay quiet like a good girl, and people applauded.
"The slave girls we saw at the court house took their brandings better," mused Stacy afterwards.
"And they got it twice."
"Yeah, hon, but don't forget, this one was a
'high-society' filly and probably a little spoiled as compared to those 'real' everyday chicks at the slave sale. Give me a working girl anytime. Be- sides, give the gal credit. That old-time branding iron must hurt more too."
"Suppose you're right, Sondra. Hey, it's almost four thirty. Why don't we check out Victoria?"
The girl at the whore tent advised the two that the viewing of the sexual gymnastics inside was not free.
"But one of the whores, Victoria Palmer, is our mistress," pointed out Stacy.
"Oh, sorry. Go ahead in."
It might have been an Arabian harem or a
Roman bed chamber. Six young ladies lay on six cots, au naturel. All were in various poses of rest and weariness. It was most obvious that they had worked hard since one o'clock., A sign on the main tent pole proclaimed the various fees involved in. using any one of three possible delights that a female could offer to a man. The smallest female" entrance was the most expensive. There were no: customers at present, for it was near day's end and
the well-juleped male customers had all, by ni exhausted both their funds and abilities. The s. also offered ministration to female customers for moderate fee.
Victoria was sprawled out full length on her as an obviously tired young woman. Her face, cl and thighs all bore wet evidence of the sweat animal, a thick mess which Victoria was simply 1 tired to bother about anymore.
"Hi, Miss Victoria," cooed Stacy. "Gosh, you a mess. You should see yourself. Sondra and I would clean you up a bit."
"Thanks, girls. Wooee, I'm bushed. This petti- cot hasn't stopped bouncing since I got here! Be took a quart of gunk in every hole I have. Not or that, but it seemed like the 'biggest' men used my smallest hole all the time. Oh well, that's what i am there for, I guess. Been so wacked out the last ha
I didn't know whether I was eating a male or a female at times. I even said, 'thank you, sir' to girl customer once! Made a lot of money, thought
Had just as many girls as guys, I'll bet."
Stacy and Sondra cleaned up their employer with love and tenderness, hoping that there would in- deed be no more customers for their loved or
Unfortunately, there was one more. Nancy L
Smythe.
"Well, look at the lovely slut,"
"Aw, isn't that sweet to have your two love children clean you up. Looks like you've been ravished quite well, darling. Hope you get preg- nant, of course. I came last because I wanted you tired and submissive, my dear. Tell me, slut, what can you offer a female?"
"It's on the sign, Nancy Lee. Twenty dollars for female customers."
"I don't like to read, bitch, tell me what you will do for twenty dollars."
Stacy and Sondra shivered. Victoria was paying the price.
Victoria gave a sigh of resignation. "I'll eat your pussy, Nancy Lee."
"That's better, slut. I've waited a long time for this, believe me."
The beauteous young woman stripped and handed Stacy a camera from her purse.
"Take a shot of her sucking my pussy, Stacy dear. I'm going to put it up in the women's locker- room at the Country Club where even the grade- school girls will see it."
Victoria did not blush often, but she did now.
Terribly.
"O.K., slut, on your knees in front of me. I'll take it standing."
Nancy Lee was in her glory of revenge. As Vic- toria ate, she grabbed her hair painfully and shoved her face against the target.
"Eat it, bitch! Eat it! Make some noise down there!"
Victoria burbled and slurped shamefully at her wet meal. Stacy took a photo.
The photo definitely was put up in the locker- room at the Club the following Monday.