Return to Avondale

Jan with sudden seriousness. "We'll try a little thumb-hanging for an hour or two, and then I think you'll be ready to show me how much you… appreciate me."

"Thumb-hanging!" exclaimed Pamela. "You've gotta be kidding! That went out with the Inquisi- tion!"

"Did they hang girls by the thumbs in the Inqui- sition?" asked Jan.

"Guess so," said Donna.

"Are you girls?" asked Jan.

"Yes."

"Do you have thumbs?"

"Yes."

"Well?" smiled Jan.

"Geez!" gasped Donna. "She means it!"

"Look, Jan… I'm sorry… I mean, mistress

Jan… you don't have to do that to us," said

Pamela. "We're not kindergarten kids and we know the score. We'1l go down on you if you want."

Jan's hand bounced off of Pamela's face, bring- ing tears to her eyes.

"Go down on me?" she yelled. "What kind of baby talk is that? Say it right, bitch!"

Jan's words stung and Pamela blushed.

"We'll suck your pussy, mistress. But look, you don't have to string us up, do you?"

"You're damn right you will! Whenever I say

'eat' you'll eat! Stringing you up has nothing to do with it at all. This isn't a country day school for kids, you know. You're here to be punished, and that you will be. In a few days, hanging by your thumbs will be third-grade stuff to you! Now stick out, your thumbs. I don't want to hear another word."

Joke time was indeed over, and the girls knew it,!

They offered their hands to Jan's cords. She tied them with loops and threw the length of the cords over the heavy ring which hung on the end of the ceiling chain. Jan secured the cords to the ring and flipped a wall switch. Pamela and Donna rose slow- ly into the air until they swung free of the carpet, their bodies flat against each other, Their shoes fell off with a clatter.

Donna just gasped. Pamela said, "Geez." Jan left.

How can one portray the first utter and total shock of strict bondage? At first, it is supposed, it must feel unreal to a girl Then she knows it is very real! Neither said a word for some time. They had imagined that such torture would probably break their thumbs. But it didn't. The pain and discom- fort were there, and it was intense at first, but as the minutes ticked by, somehow a girl acclimated herself to such things. Indeed, girls had acclimated themselves to such things since time began. The mystery of girls is yet to be solved.

Sweat began to trickle along the armpits of

Pamela and Donna, and their normally full.and curving breasts were now flat and tight against each other's! Pamela felt Donna's nipples harden against her own, and in response, her own erected.

"Hurt?" said Donna.

"A little."

"This is stupid," said Donna. "Here I am strung up like a medieval witch. I should be yellin' my head off but no, not Donna, my nipples are all long and sexy like I enjoyed this bit!"

"You think mine aren't?" laughed Pamela.

"Maybe girls just like this kinky stuff!"

"Anyway," said Donna, "it's nice to feel you against me. Takes away some of the hurting."

"Feeling is mutual, honey," replied Pamela.

"Does seem easier when we share it together. Hope we always get punished together."

"I'd like that, Pam."

An hour dragged by without, a sign of Jan. The girls found that it was much easier not to squirm or move, but,just to hang quietly.

"Wanna kiss a little?" asked Donna. "Maybe it'll take our mind off this bloody thing."

"We can try it," said Pamela.

The kissing did help, but it also caused some other problems.

"Hey," said Pamela, "my pants are gettin' wet from kissing you, girl. Maybe we better ease off and cool it!"

"I know. I can feel you down there," said Donna.

"Right you are, Pam. We'll just get ourselves all in a lather."

In the long run, it was better to do nothing. Idle chatter for awhile was helpful, but that soon ran out too, and thus the two girls followed the pat,tern of a thousand girls before them. They hung silently and naturally from their cords. The Romans knew it and the Egyptians knew it. Girls could hang for- ever if required, such was the mystery of a female.

History made no difference, or age of a female as well. Babylonian females hung by their thumbs in silken skirts. London birds of 1972 hung in skin- tight panties and stockings. Girls had not changed, only the clothes.

Pamela and Donna hung for three hours before their mistress returned. Jan found what she had expected on their faces. The flippancy and humor were gone, replaced with a strained reality, and the observable signs of submission. The first real truth was there, unmistakably, in their eyes. They knew that they were indeed slaves, regardless of the time in history.

Jan was pleased, but not surprised. Girls were all the same. That's what made them so deliciously beautiful and desirable. She ran her hands tenderly over both moist silken backs, and felt the slight tremors of pleasure that her caresses had caused in the girls. Girls responded so wonderfully to girls.