Chapter 2

Tula, eyes still on her stomach, swiveled her torso from her waist, making her breast jiggle under the thin rag that covered them. "No, it's not my belly, is it?" She said, and then paused, uncertainly. The slave girl seemed to change her mind. "Yes, you maybe right." She touched the twisted ties that held up the rag around her belly, caressing and then raising the slipknot over her left hip with her thumb. The clingy cloth didn't quite meet at her left thigh; it was just rectangle, it was up to the girl to keep it tight on her hips.

"Yes, my belly rag feels really tight." Tula said nodding.

"That's what I told you, girl, " said Mira, smoothening down her own rag over her slim hip and thigh.

Trying to ease the tightness of clinging rag on her right hip and upper right thigh, Tula lifted her backside off her knees an inch, and arching the small of her back, thrust her buttocks quickly, yet fluidly backward, spreading her knees wider, for a moment, flipping the rag on her hips out over and behind her soles. When she rested back on her heels again the ragged edge of the belly cloth was no longer caught between her spreading buttocks and feet.

"She does that rather well-- the little slut, " thought Mira, as she noted the subtle, but perceptible belly grind that accompanied the settling back of Tula's buttocks on her heels. I must copy that thought Mira, wetting her lips, thinking Master must like that. Wordlessly she resolved to watch Tula with extra care until she had learnt the rhythm of the motion.

"No, it is better now." Tula was still uncertain. She felt confused by Mira. "Wasn't a belly rag supposed to be real tight?" She thought to herself. She always pulled her chords really hard in the mornings -- so much so that the red marks of its grip were visible when she stripped at night. She did it to narrow her waist, and emphasis the flare of her hips and buttocks, but also to stretch the old, clingy cloth tight over her ass, because she knew the butt twitch in her walk looked so much better with a hip hugging rag, than with a loose one. Master had told her she should beg him for the strappy-sandals, the ones with the thin, high heel at the back, and the fine leather straps that tied tight on the girl's ankles and calves, that would really make her butt jiggle and ass cheeks quiver nicely when she walked. She had been touching her collar, and begging for months now, every time he let her, but he'd also said were real expensive to get for a cleaning-filly like her. So until then, all she could do was to tie the butt-rag real real tight. Also, then, it flapped open a little less when she walked. Still, of course, it did open, if there was a breeze, or some thing, exposing her dark pussy-patch, making the contrast with her teased, styled, dyed blond hair so obvious, always embarrassing her. Master had her hair really really light! What the other girls called bimbo-blond. She kinda hated her hair being sniggered at, even though she listened carefully when another girl asked her about her hair on street like "Oh does your Master have you dyed in the kennels?... Or is that color hair bimbo-blond, girl?" and then always answered with a giggle like she had been taught to, not forgetting to touch her collar, but she always felt a itch in her slit, that made her want to slap those flat chested, mousy haired bitches, when they acted like some how they were better than her.

Of course, wearing the butt-rag tight didn't help stop the cloth from riding up her ass-cheeks all the time. If her hands hadn't been tied behind her back, then she could keep pulling down the bottom edge of her butt-rag, just a little lower, as she ran quickly on tip toes, like she had been trained to. Often she stumbled a little, because a girl of course wasn't allowed to stop running an important errand for a silly thing like pulling down her butt-rag, and then her hair got on her eyes, and she couldn't toss it off.

At a time like that, on a narrow, crowded street, some times she felt a quick pat on her butt with a strong hand, and then, more often than not, a quick fingering. At first, that had really tensed her up, because she would feel the press of the unknown Master's fingers, thick and rough between her thighs, after, for awhile, but now, she was used to it. Still, she so wished her belly rag was longer at the back; that it covered her ass cheeks more completely, instead of leaving them half hanging out. It made her feel... so... low! Lots of other girls were allowed actual slave skirts by their Masters, real tight and clingy, but long enough to cover the ass at the back. She sighed softly, imagining how nice that would be. But even those skirts were real tight, Tula considered, fingering the knot of her rag again. "Was her belly rag too tight? But Mira said... " Tula looked up, helpless. She couldn't decide one way or the other--but she was used to that, knowing that she quite stupid at deciding things.