Chapter 6

"How could you be so enormously stupid?" Myrna screamed furiously at Joan.

They were in Myrna's trailer and the woman had just told the weeping girl what the consequences of her act were. The lion was a killer now and would have to be destroyed. There might have even been a possibility of hope had not the fight ended in Mae's death. Then both cats would have been put in zoos. But once a tame cat became a killer there was nothing else to be done but destroy him. And it was all Joan's fault. She had overstepped her authority and the results were disastrous.

Myrna's act was ruined. The two lions that she had trained to allow her to stick her head into their mouths were gone. Where could she find such animals again? And the time to train them? She was ruined because of an impulsive, unthinking child.

There was nothing Joan could say. So she wept.

"Here I am with your collar round my neck!" Myrna continued to fume. "My cats are gone and a spiritless bitch sits sobbing in front of me. It's too goddamn bad that it would kill you or I'd cut you up like Mae, you dumb little bitch! And I've got your collar on!" Myrna shook her fists at the heavens as if her rage were inspired by the gods of fate.

"Please, Myrna, please," Joan burbled. "What can I do? What can I do?"

"I don't know yet," Myrna's eyes glowed with contempt and rage. "But you can be sure you will pay. For a start, you can put this around your neck." Myrna's hands fairly tore the mink collar from around her throat and threw it at Joan.

It was the same kind of collar that Amanda wore, and Joan knew that if she placed herself into submission to Myrna, she would become like Amanda. Myrna would have won again.

Even though Myrna had allowed the collar to be fitted around her neck she had struggled continually. Now the roles were reversed.

As if the guilt Joan felt were not enough, Myrna was now insisting the path to forgiveness for the havoc lay in enslavement.

Darkly, a secret thrill rushed to Joan's womb. She had never played that role before!

She imagined what the collar would feel like as it surrounded her throat. Suddenly she wanted to know and at the same time she felt the heat in her crotch spread like a flower through her hips. She wanted to submit! A whimper escaped her lips.

"Pick it up and put it on." Myrna's voice was like thunder in the small room.

"As you wish." Joan felt the words pass her lips and was surprised at how easily they came out. That is what Amanda always says, she thought and felt as if she were gently relieved of a great burden.

She got down on all fours from the chair in which she had been slumped and crawled to the collar. Her tears had become whimpers and she seemed to cower like a dog.

"Please, please." The tiny sound was surrounded by Myrna's heaving breaths.

"Put it on," Myrna commanded. "From this moment on you are mine to do with as I choose. Do you understand that?"

"Please," said Joan whimpering as she put the collar around her slender throat.

The leather was hot and pliant as her fingers struggled to fit the tongue of the belt through the buckle. But the mink fur was sensual and soft.

"And cinch it tight. I want you to feel it."

Joan's fingers trembled as her mind whirled in a jumble of conflict. She was submitting to Myrna's will and the feeling thrilled her. She wanted to grovel at the other woman's feet.

"Punish me, please," Joan whispered. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her cunt grow hot with the thought of what Myrna might do.

"Here. Let me do that." Myrna strode to her side and seized the buckle from the girl's fumbling fingers. Joan felt the band tighten until she choked. But the only sound she uttered was a submissive whimper. Myrna tightened it farther, and despite herself, Joan choked for air.

"Don't want to kill you," snarled Myrna cruelly through her teeth as she ran her fingers between the leather band and the girl's tight throat.

"There, that should do it," Myrna said as she hooked the buckle. Joan felt the blood in her neck swell around the leather band. But she had enough room to breath, barely. Her eye watered and her head throbbed from the sudden surge of blood.

"All right, get the rest of those clothes off," Myrna commanded harshly through the rising din in Joan's ears from the pounding blood.

"It's too tight..." Joan gasped.

"Shut up, bitch," Myrna snarled. "You can breathe and I want it to leave a scar. Just get your clothes off fast." She strode across the room and took a cluster of leather thongs from the wall.

She's going to whip me, Joan thought and something thrilled her until it showed in her eyes and Myrna saw the glow.

"So you think you'll like it, do you?" Myrna's voice was a rasp. "We'll see. And if you do--I may not use it where you like."

Joan was hypnotized with the whip and slowly her fingers unbuttoned her leather vest.

"Please," she mewed as she felt her pussy throb with desire. She imagined the lash on her bare breasts and her nipples stiffened with blood. Myrna saw her lick her lips and that familiar cheshire expression take its place on Joan's face. It infuriated her and she threw the whip away in disgust.

"You can't turn everything to sex," she shouted and slapped the girl in the face with her hand. The effect was like cold water on Joan. Her mind cleared instantly.

"What does this collar mean then?" she demanded to know as loudly as her voice was able.

Myrna was taken aback. In a sense, slapping Joan refuted everything bestial in Myrna's life and the woman was startled by the unconscious admission. But she recovered quickly.

"I don't want to hear anything but your whimpering," she said in a voice as cold as stainless steel.

"As you wish," Joan assented by lowering her eyes and crawling to Myrna's knee.

"Stupid bitch!" Myrna muttered as she tangled her finger up at the back of Joan's head and forced the girl's face up to behold her rage. What she saw in Joan's face was so compelling, however, that she felt pity take the place of her rage.

That Joan was a pagan slave to bestiality was obvious. She could not help her condition. What her actions had caused was as much Myrna's fault as Joan's since she had known of Joan's nature from Amanda.

Joan placed her face in Myrna's crotch and sniffed like a nuzzling dog. Then, despite her pity Myrna was quickly aroused.

The beautiful girl was as base as a dog and the comparison fired Myrna's imagination to a raging boil. If her nature took to submission as compulsively as it had to bestiality, Myrna knew she would have a nearly perfect body slave. Did she want the girl like that? The responsibility was great. And she wanted the girl right now and with every breath her loins grew more aware of Joan's hot tongue.

"Take them off me," Myrna commanded as she looked down on the auburn top of Joan's head. The girl's face was pressed into the sweet smelling goat leather of Myrna's crotch; without raising her head to look, her hands fumbled over her head and unbuttoned the buttons above Myrna's leather covered cunt. Her mouth breathed heat into the taut coverings while her tongue wet it to make it soft and hot. But then her fingers were finished, and with a tug at both sides of Myrna's hips her hands rolled the pant tops down.

Myrna was naked beneath her outfit. Joan plunged her nose into the lush forest of hair about Myrna's love lips while her tongue licked through the foliage for the slit. The tip encountered the tiny wings of flesh at the top of Myrna's clit and she twirled her tongue. Myrna moaned and Joan mewed.

"Stand up and take off my top," Myrna commanded and Joan rose.

Her fingers toyed with the buttons down the front of Myrna's leather shirt and the smile on her face was kittenish.

"Why did you want to be whipped when you've told me how you feel about cruelty?" Rather seriously Myrna asked the question even though she was panting for breath.

"I want to be broken," Joan replied simply as her fingers moved lower on Myrna's front.

"I will not whip you," said Myrna with control. "As you wish." Joan then nuzzled between the globes of Myrna's now exposed breasts. Despite the effort she was making at reserve, Myrna gasped as Joan licked her tongue across one plum-colored nipple. Joan's mouth moved to the other nipple and Myrna felt the cold air on her aroused bud.

"Do you know that Andy was licking your pussy when I came up?" Myrna's voice was passion laden, her breath heavy as she questioned Joan.

"Ummmm... so that's why my stomach and thighs were still wet when I woke up." Joan's words mumbled on Myrna's velvet breasts. "What made him stop?"

"Mae finished eating and was prowling nearby. Andy is very protective at times."

"Oh Myrna! Can't we save him somehow?" Joan looked up to the other woman's face with abject eyes while her voice pleaded.

"Quiet," Myrna commanded and pushed on the girl's shoulders so that she was forced to kneel with her nose only inches away from the woman's lush crotch.

Joan grasped Myrna's naked ass with both hands and pressed her face into the heavy growth. She was intoxicated by Myrna's musky scent and a mew of pleasure came from between her lips. Her pink tongue tip followed it and licked up Myrna's labia. The soft lips opened for Joan's tongue to dip into the honey pot and spoon the hot juices of the woman's pussy into her avid mouth.

"Let's move to the couch," Myrna moaned passionately.

"As you wish," Joan's muffled voice replied.

Myrna curled her fingers between the leather backed collar and the girl's neck and led her like a dog to the couch. Joan coughed at the pressure.

"How does it feel, dear?" Myrna asked with hard bitchery in her voice as they reached the couch. Joan did not bother to answer but instead nipped with small bites on Myrna's fleshy ass. The woman yelped and pulled on the collar until Joan choked for air.

"Don't play games, bitch!" Myrna's face was an angry, threatening snarl even though she was full of self-doubt.

When Joan had admitted her willingness to undergo the whipping, it was as if Myrna's last resource had been taken away. She felt as though she was about to fall off a tall building. How long before Joan knew of her failure? But Joan truly deserved to be punished if only Myrna could find the strength in herself. Why was it absent? From a lifetime of empty words such were the thoughts running through Myrna's head when the phone rang.

Joan flashed, "I'll bet it's Amanda," and she looked upwards at Myrna. She could see the lush swelling gourds of her beautiful plum-tipped breasts looming above the woman's thatchy ebony covered mound.

The bell shrilled once more and Myrna started to answer it, then seized the opportunity of the moment and bent it to her will.

"Answer it," she ordered Joan.

"As you wish."

"And don't be so damned submissive, bitch!" Myrna exploded in utter exasperation. Then she slapped her forehead with disgust. "Stupid," she muttered to herself as Joan went to answer the phone.

"Hello, Amanda." No! thought Myrna, she couldn't have known. What if it was...

"Yes," the girl replied into the mouthpiece, all the while eyeing Myrna levelly. "Yes," she went on.

"Give it to me," Myrna spat out and snatched the phone from Joan's hand. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Your sister, dear." Amanda's melodious voice floated through the receiver and found Myrna's mind in a fog of disbelief. "Myrna, are you there?"

Amanda's voice expressed concern at the growing silence.

"Yes. I'm here," replied Myrna from a void. It was as if she were suddenly alone in the room with her sister's voice coming from a shoe held in playful pretending at her ear.

"Myrna, what's wrong?"

"Oh Amanda! I don't know what to do. This child has cost me my act and yet I can't tame her. I don't know what to do."

"I know about the lions, dear; and I'm grief stricken. But just hold on and I'll be there shortly. Oliver called--" Myrna cut in.

"You're coming here? Oh, thank God! But what should I do with Joan until you get here?"

"How is she?"

"What the hell do you mean how is she? The little bitch just got Mae killed and Andy destroyed. How is she, you ask. Well, I wish she were dead!"

"No, dear, you misunderstand me. What I mean is what state is her mind in? What ever she feels shows all over her face. She is such a simple child, really."

Myrna glanced at Joan for the first time during the conversation and after a moment said, "She looks like either a zombie or a maniac--I'm not sure which. But in any event, the main thing in her face is sex.

"Is Eric with her?"

"Who's Eric?" Myrna asked, her exasperation starting to churn within her again.

"Eric is Joan's king snake. He acts like a sedative sometimes on the girl. He soothes her if you understand and, of course, you must."

Myrna chuckled slowly in response. "Will other animals besides the snake do?" Myrna felt an idea taking shape in her head.

"Well, Prince for one; and from the letters I've received from her I'm sure that pony of yours is another. But I thought you understood about Joan from the first. She is not to be held responsible for her desires where animals are concerned. She is a free agent."

"I understand. It's nearly impossible to act against, however. How do you ever manage?" Myrna asked trying to remember what they were talking about and suddenly very aware that the subject was just across the room. Joan stared up at her with the glazed expression of a dumb beast and for a moment Myrna was disgusted.

"I have no wish to subject the girl, or anyone else for that matter, Myrna. You should know that. You trained me," Amanda said quietly.

"When are you coming?" Myrna changed the subject curtly.

"Tomorrow morning first thing."

"What do you suggest I do with Joan in the meantime?" Myrna asked rather sarcastically.

"Why not entertain her with the pony, dear?" Amanda suggested glibly.

Myrna had the feeling that she had already thought of that, but since it was a rather good idea she said nothing. Yet, there was something else bothering her. What was it? Ah, yes. Somehow Joan had known it was Amanda calling.

"Amanda. Joan answered the phone with your name. How did she know it was you?"

Amanda chuckled. "Yes, I know. It was probably a hunch on her part, but I do have a habit of interrupting Joan with phone calls at inopportune moments. That was what she replied 'yes' to: I asked her if she was making love with someone and she said, yes, she was."

"I see," answered Myrna even though she did not really follow the entire trend of behavior between the strange girl and her own twin sister. "Well, I'd better go."

Joan was restless. She prowled between Myrna's legs like a pussycat and licked the woman's creamy snatch while she was talking.

"See you tomorrow," said Amanda.

"All right. Goodbye," returned Myrna hurriedly replacing the phone on its hook.

"Jesus, girl! Nothing turns you off, does it?" Myrna exclaimed.

"No." Joan's voice came silkily from below and she nuzzled her nose for Myrna's clit.

Myrna was incredibly disturbed. It was as if she wanted to be eaten softly by the kittenish tongue of the girl, but at the same time she wanted desperately to punish her. And it was evidence she could not do it with sex. The dilemma was ponderable but not while Joan licked between her legs. All right. The girl wanted submission. There was no better time to begin than right now.

"Stop that," Myrna ordered and Joan obeyed with a woeful moan.

"Put some clothes on. I want you in the ring with Clyde. And you are going to perform!"

"As you wish." Joan nodded her compliance and thought of what Amanda would look like saying the same words: As you wish.

Myrna saw the resemblance to her sister pass across Joan's face as the tone of the girl's voice took on a mimicking sound.

"Think you know all the tricks, don't you, chickadee?" Myrna taunted Joan sarcastically.

"Not necessarily," Joan said in a placid manner. "I haven't got any pants to wear."

"Here." Myrna took a silver-studded, goatskin wrap-around skirt out of her closet. "Put this on and hurry it up."

Joan took the leather garment and slipped it on. The feel of leather on her bare skin made her squirm the wet lips of her pussy together, and she became anxious to know where they were going.

"What are you planning?" Joan inquired. She knew she was taking more liberty than her role as slave allowed.

But Myrna surprised her. She did not give the conventional response and shut her up but instead answered her honestly. "I don't know."

"Well, aren't you going to get dressed as well?" Joan asked innocently.

"Apparently I've forgotten myself," Myrna answered bemused and took a light weight raincoat from the closet. "Get your top and let's go." She slipped the raincoat on and crossed to the door.

"Don't you want your whip, Myrna?" Joan taunted as she shrugged on her calfskin shirt.

"Bring it if you wish," Myrna snapped and swung the trailer door outwards, motioning Joan to go before her.