Chapter 9
What a revelation it had been, and a learning experience as well. Warm,
sexy thoughts ran through my mind as I opened my eyes in the morning to see Beth
propped on an elbow beside me, looking at me pensively.
She reached out and touched my cheek with her hand, saying, "Well,
little slave girl, now I have some hope that I might not spend the next two
weeks hanging from the ceiling. The way the program works, however, we are
committed for a few days to a protocol that will be rough on both of us. Don't
be too worried. From what you showed me last night, I think you'll rise to the
occasion, and in more ways than one." Only later did I realize she had been
making a pun.
I started to speak, but then remembered the rule about talking without
permission. Pleasing Beth was suddenly the most important thing in my life, and
when I had a goal in life I strove for perfection. Sensing my wish to talk, she
said, "Unless I instruct you otherwise, you have my permission to speak freely,
but only when we are alone."
"Do you think I'm a lesbian? Last night was my first sexual experience,
and it's hard for me to imagine enjoying it so much otherwise. On top of that,
I've never found a man I could trust."
She smiled and replied, "I think you were so long overdue for sex you're
like the swan whose mother was away from the nest when she hatched. When a duck
wander by with a brood of chicks the little swan happily got in line, thinking
she had found mom. Don't jump to conclusions. In fact, we won't let you jump
to conclusions."
"If I may ask, mistress, are you one?"
Chuckling, she said, "I'm an equal opportunity kind of gal. I say why
limit the range of one's opportunities for pleasure. I go both ways sex wise,
and in other ways as well. I personally hope you find the same capacity, and if
last night was your first time, I think you certainly have the potential. The
big hurdle will be getting over your anger and distrust of men."
"You saw how I froze with Jerry. I can't even cope with a man who
exists to please women and is tied down to boot." I gave her a forlorn look.
"When the treatment team decides a trainer has failed, as in our case,
the trainer no longer participates in training decisions on that case. I no
longer know what is planned for you, or for me for that matter. In a sense I
have been sent to school for further training, no longer in charge, but more
like a classroom aid who observes, and in our case, acts as a surrogate."
"What do you mean, surrogate?"
"It used to be called a 'whipping boy' in the old days. I probably
shouldn't be going into this, but since I'm out of the main treatment loop I'm
going to wing it. I got whipped last night for two reasons. First, as
punishment for failing at my job assignment, which was to prep you sufficiently
to participate in the evaluation session. Second, as a way of putting pressure
on you to overcome your inhibitions and get with the program."
My cynical distrust overwhelmed me in a heartbeat, "So that''s what last
night was about. You seduced me so I would get emotionally involved, and that
way I would do any disgusting thing they want in order to save you from more
punishment."
She tried to placate me as we talked back and forth, but I was back in
familiar territory, assuming that other people would use me only for their own
selfish ends if I didn't keep them at arms length. I felt betrayed and used, and
I rolled away from her to hide the tears that were suddenly in my eyes.
She reached out to put a hand on my hip, but I brushed it away. "I
guess I've blown it again," she whispered, and these were the last words between
us for some time, other than curt orders delivered by a mistress to a slave.
