Return to Avondale

She had learned quickly that girls were lovely things to make love to, and that that province needn't be reserved for boys alone. Girls were anyone's fair game and provided extreme pleasure for boys and girls alike. Boys used different, bodily parts to love a girl with, because girls just simply have that part, but made do nicely with other parts which a girl recipient enjoyed just as much. The word lesbian, once a nasty word, now was adored and honored. All girls were lesbian if given the chance to find out, and if they didn't, it was a terrible loss. Pamela had found that girls could fall in love.with girls, and that it was very natural.

She had learned the basics of slavery, a female's ultimate joy whether she served master or mis- tress. There was no other emotion so satisfying to a female as to serve and obey.

She had learned about the whip, in a moderate way, and knew that that delightful rear portion of a girl was intended and designed to be whipped.

She knew also that she had but, begun to know the whip as yet. There were many places yet to be whipped, and she must learn to accept and enjoy it, there if she were to become a woman. She must also learn to wield the whip herself and derive arousal from its use upon another female, for females loved to whip or be whipped. Either way was pleasant. Most of all, like rope and chain and lesbianism, whips were part of being a girl. Girls required the whip simply because t,hey were girls.

It was needed, the same as air or food or water, and needed regularly.

And of course, Pamela had learned about rings and their mystifying gratification. Where having rings put through various and sundry body parts might seem to the uninitiated as a punishment, or torture, they were in fact a joy! The sharp hurt as a girl was pierced was wee worth the price for the beautiful symbolism and excitement they returned ten-fold. The unique and modern locking pins in the nipples were of course not needed, since the nipples already held rings. Yet, a girl felt a sense of pride that those punishing items had been added even though they nearly ruined the nipples. It made a girl feel like a real girl!

Yet, all of these things were elementary during the first two months. The other girls, who had been there longer, had told Pamela and Donna what they could expect during their remaining term, and the two loved ones had talked about it in bed many times, Strangely, they were not apprehensive, though some of the things would hurt very, very much. It was, of course, due to Avondale. The punishments, no matter how terrible, were given with a love and a purpose, rather than brutality and anger. Pamela and Donna knew this, and it made it very different indeed. No matter how intense the hurt, no matter how many screams and tears, they knew that it was for their own good in the long run if they wished to be true young ladies.

All things had been done before, and accepted by their past sisters. It was part of being a girl. The true philosophy of Avondale had begun to appear.

Girls were not punished here for being truants, or shoplifters, or bad girls. They were punished be- cause they were girls. They needed to accept this openly and completely first, then they in turn could begin to find arousal themselves in involving themselves in punishment of other girls. Pamela and Donna walked nicely down this trail.

"Hi, Pamela," said Sabrina. "Your day, is it?"

Jan had brought Pamela to the nurse's lab short- ly after lunch, and had taken Donna to the pool for a nude swim. Pamela and Donna had begun t.o be separated occasionally now by design. Some things would be done together, some things not,. It was up to Jan, of course, and she thought it prudent that they not share everything all the time. It was good that they thought of each other when apart and wondered what the other was experiencing.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so Jan was not being cruel

"Hello, Sabrina. Jan brought me. Swimming with Donna, she is. Geez, I miss that. girl when we're apart. I can just see Jan all stretched out on the diving board with my Donna eating her puss.

Oh, well, You look nice in pink!"

Sabrina laughed. She was sitting in a chair with her legs slightly apart, her mini-nurse's skirt far too short to cover the strip of pink underpants be- tween her thighs. That was why every girl liked her so much. She didn't spread her legs purposely or consciously. Yet she didn't worry about silly legs- together modesty. She just sat naturally and com- fortably with legs slightly apart. If her panties showed, they showed, that's all.

"I like pink pants, hon. Mind?"

"No. It's very feminine, y'know. I might as well tell you that I'd like to get into your pants,

Sabrina."

"Really?" teased Sabrina. "Well, maybe some- day, darling. But what would my children think?"

"Oh, Sabrina. You're a right corker, you are."

Both girls laughed.

"Come sit on my lap, Pam, and I'll tell you what's on the docket."