Chapter 6

It was two weeks later and Cindy was making a remarkable recovery. She was out of bed and moving, although gingerly. A week earlier Jan had removed the stitches from her crotch and found the most serious cuts were healing nicely. Now Jan was out of the house running errands. She had a lot to do that had been let go during the time Cindy needed constant care. It was early afternoon, and Cin was taking a nap. She awakened when the doorbell rang and then she heard the door open.

She heard a woman call out, "Hello, Cindy. It's just me. I'm Anita Collins. May I come up?" Without waiting for an answer, she heard light footsteps coming up the stairs and then a young woman came into her room smiling. "Hi, Cindy, as you heard from my parade-ground bellow, I'm Nita Collins. I'm the Editor of Everything Else for The Deerfield Times. Can I do a story on you? It's not every day I get to interview a real live slave." She was grinning and her hand was extended in greeting.

Cindy eased herself up in the bed and stuck out her hand. She took Nita's in a firm grip. Her dead-fish handshake was a thing of the past. In sitting up she exposed her breasts and some of the cuts across her chest. She grinned and said, "Nita, I think you're just the person I wanted to see. You should know who's the local chairman of the Society for the Prevention of Unnecessary Cruelty to Slaves. You do, don't you?"

Anita had gone pale when she saw the cuts. She asked, "Cindy, do you mind if I look at you all over?"

"Of course not! I'll need some help, though. It would be a lot easier if you could lift the covers off me. That would save me a bit of pain."

Anita carefully lifted them off exposing Cindy's body at full length. The cuts were all healing, but were still very prominent. "Would you roll over? Can you?"

"Of course," Cindy replied, and carefully rolled over on her belly. She let out a little gasp as pressure came on the abdominal cuts which were the worst of them all. Her back and buttocks, while clearing up, were still crisscrossed with lacerations. Carefully, Cindy rolled over on her back again. Anita, now looking very pale, carefully lifted the covers up after first plumping up the pillows and getting Cindy another.

Cindy leaned back and sighed. "That feels so good. Thank you so much. Now, aren't you going to ask me about the cruelty? But you better pull up a chair, though. This is going to take awhile. Would you like some refreshment? There's iced tea, cookies, cake, candy ... almost anything." Anita looked puzzled. "It's right behind you. There's a tiny refrigerator there. Please help yourself." Anita found a pitcher of iced tea and poured glasses for herself and Cindy.

She took out a pad and pencil and said, "Now, about that cruelty?"

Cindy savored her iced tea and then said, "Thank you very much for pouring. The cruelty: Well, do you know what Jan did last night?" Nita shook her head. "She served tournedos Rossini again. She really did. That's three times in two weeks. Where's my rice? Slaves are entitled to their daily rice ration, but she won't give me any," she said as she shook her head sorrowfully. "Slaves sleep on the floor, right? Ask anybody. It's our right. I ask you, Mrs. Collins, does this look like a floor to you? Just because I'm weak and can't object, she takes advantage of me. Bathroom privileges? We get to use an outhouse, right? I don't. I have to use a private bathroom, for God's sake."

She looked at Anita who was amazed to see tears rolling down the girl's beautiful cheeks in spite of her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Can't you use the power of the press or something to make sure I get my rights?"

Anita grinned and said, "I'll try, Cindy. But seriously, what about those ... souvenirs you're wearing?"

"The stripes? That's me. What's the question?"

Anita looked puzzled. "But I thought Jan did that to you? She told me she did."

"She lied then. I did them to me."

"I don't understand," the reporter said.

"Nita, there are twenty-two on my fat ass for disobedience. There are six on my back for gross arrogance, and the rest are for unbelievable egotism and stupidity. It's all me." She then told Nita the story of what had happened.

Finally she asked, "How's the weather outside, by the way? I'm getting cabin fever stuck in this room."

"It's a glorious May day. I guess the temperature is already over 80."

Suddenly Cindy looked like a little girl planning on playing hooky. "Anita, if you give me a hand, we can go out to the pool. Will you? Please!"

Anita was genuinely shocked. "Cin, get serious. You almost died. You can't get out of bed!"

"The hell I can't! Just watch." With that Cindy carefully eased her long legs over the side of the bed. She sat on the edge and waited for her dizziness to pass, then carefully stood up and made her way towards the door.

Anita realized she was serious and jumped up to go with her. She was utterly astonished to see the girl carefully making her way downstairs. Leading the way, Cindy went through the kitchen, grabbed two big towels from the laundry and then carefully padded out on the path to the pool.

The reporter followed, watching in amazement. When she got up to the pool deck, Cin brought over two mats and gingerly lay down on her back. Hearing Anita come up, she said, "Nita, could you do me a huge favor? I forgot the suntan cream. I would really appreciate it if you could get it. It's in the laundry on a shelf right by the door. Do you mind awfully?"

Anita Collins went back and retrieved the lotion. She had been to a businesswomen's luncheon and was wearing a blouse and a linen suit and now found the sun very warm.

When she got back to the pool deck, Cindy opened one eye. "You're not going swimming in that are you? I suspect it'll shrink. And even if it doesn't, the chlorine in the pool will do some very nasty things to the color."

"Are you suggesting..." Anita began with a grin.

"I'm not suggesting, I'm telling! Strip, lady. Take it all off. I suspect you have a passably fair body under all that armor. Since I haven't worn any clothes in weeks, I'm something of an expert."

Anita grinned and quickly took off her clothes. She was only five feet four but her body was magnificent. Her breasts were remarkably full and firm. She took the suntan lotion and very carefully began to spread it on Cynthia's body and then applied it to her own. Incredibly, even with her wounds, Cindy came over and put lotion on her despite the pain her movements caused her.

The two women lay in the sun idly talking. After a while, Cindy propped herself up on her elbows and just looked at the pool.

Nita looked at the girl and knew what she was thinking. "Oh, no you don't, young lady! Jan will probably take off my hide for letting you get this far. If you go in that pool..."

Before she could finish, Cindy, in an astonishingly smooth and quick motion, was diving head first into the pool. The chlorine burned her cuts as she knew it would, but she didn't care. She started to lazily swim up and down. The cuts in her cunt were tortured by the movement of her legs, but she ignored the pain and just kept going. In a moment she heard a splash as Nita dove in. Cindy just kept going easily up and down the twenty-five meter pool.

Moments later she heard another splash and the water was churned to a froth. A hand came up and drove her head under water. She came to the surface coughing and saw Jan beside her. From the sound of her entry, Cindy had known it was her.

"And what in hell do you think you're doing, young lady?" Jan demanded.

Cindy stuck out her tongue and said, "I decided to leave that prison you have me locked up in. And I complained to the authorities about the abusive treatment you're giving me. Nita is writing an exposé. It will tell how I've been systematically denied my rights as a slave. Boy, are you going to be sorry!"

The girls got out of the pool with Jan giving Cindy a hand. Jan went for a towel and Nita pulled up another mat for her. Before lying down Jan carefully smoothed more lotion on Cindy's body as the girl moaned with pleasure. In addition to providing protection from the sun, the lotion felt very soothing on her cuts that were now so irritated from the chlorine.

When she was finished, Nita got her notebook and read Cindy's list of complaints. "Now, Mrs. Stewart, in the best journalistic tradition of trying to get both sides of the story, I'll review Miss Martin's accusations — I guess the story should read Slave Cynthia, though. First, she claims to be denied her ration of rice. She is right, you know. Every slave is assured a scoop of rice every day. She claims you're forcing her to eat tournedos Rossini. Do you have a comment?"

"Of all the ungrateful ... Mrs. Collins, I'll have you know I serve a bowl of rice. She chooses not to eat it. I can't be responsible. What should I do? Force-feed her? Of all the nerve! What's next?"

"Well," Anita continued, trying to control her giggles, "Slave Cynthia claims you don't allow her to sleep on the floor. She is right, you know. A slave has the right to sleep on the floor."

Jan just shook her head. "Well..." she said thoughtfully, "there is some merit to that one. But have you looked at her body? Do you realize how hard it is to get blood off a vinyl floor? On the other hand, we just drop the bed linen into the washing machine. However, I'll take that complaint under advisement. What else?"

"She claims she's deprived of outhouse privileges. She's forced to use a private bath?" Nita's face was in a frown, although her eyes were dancing with laughter. "What about that?"

"That's unfair!" Jan protested. "It's not my fault. It's the damned EPA! They have some problem with outhouses and water tables and junk like that. Anyway, they made us take it down. I asked if she could just fertilize the flowers, but they didn't like that much better. Anyway, this is what they made us do. If Slave Cynthia has a problem, it's not with us!"

The exchange continued. As it did, Anita realized the depth of Cindy's love for Janice and the extent to which it was returned. Finally, she said, "Except for about one inch difference in height and the length of Cindy's hair, you two look like twins."

"Twins! Of all the nerve," Jan exclaimed. "Have you ever seen my skin look like that ... that library paste? Look at those tits! They flop all over the place. Mine are firm. A twin, indeed!"

They all laughed. Then Cindy came over and kissed Jan softly on the lips. "Library paste, indeed! I can't help it if I'm kept locked in a cell all day."

Then she whispered, "Jan, I love you."

The girls had a very enjoyable afternoon in the sun.

On Saturday afternoon, a young man wearing khaki pants and a tee shirt came up the drive. He was holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand as he rang the doorbell. Janice opened it, smiled and said, "Hi! May I help you?"