Chapter 19: Sex And The Single Girl

Course 8 / Day 26: Course Progress Meeting

Participant Notes: Fifty

Jo: The shibari demonstration that Ylena provided gave us the chance to explore Fifty's response to bondage. In common with her other reactions she was quick to sink herself in the experience and further shibari sessions could be beneficial. Overnight surveillance has also shown Jenny helps herself off to sleep by masturbation. It is probably time to start helping her to explore her sexual boundaries and the idea of being the sexual property of her Master or Mistress,

Jenny's Recollections.

It is after breakfast that Jo takes me to one side. She takes me up to where I can make my weekly exchange of e-mails. I'd almost forgotten that it was time to do this again. This time, I decide to drop a note to Angela - it's inconsequential stuff, but I feel obliged to say something. There are a couple of chatty mails from Joe. His trip seems to be having all the usual problems that he tells me about, but he seems happy enough. I send him an e-mail in reply. I finish well within my fifteen minutes limit and look up towards Jo.

"All done?" she asks. I nod. "I hope you find this helpful. We think it helps to have some link back to the rest of the world. We know it can be a bit of a pressure-cooker in here. You need a little time to de-stress."

I don't say anything, but it doesn't really feel like de-stressing to me. Whenever I think about the world back at the university and home, I'm just confronted by the extraordinary difference between my life there and my life here and that feels pretty stressful to me. Mind you, I'm supposed to be thinking about stress, aren't I?

Jo begins again, "Fifty, before you start today's work, we need to talk," she says. I'm puzzled. Normally, Jo waits until the end of the day before we have a discussion on what has gone on and how I'm feeling. Why didn't she talk about whatever it is last night?

Jo tells me to stand and then sits herself down. She logs in with a different ID and starts up a new programme on the computer.

"I want to show you something," Jo presses a key on the laptop. A media player window opens and a video starts to play. It looks like it's been shot in one of the cells, shot from high up, near the ... Oh, goodness! I realise that it's my cell; that it's me in the bed in the middle of the picture. I think of the little red light that blinks in the ceiling of my cell when they put the lights out. "I'm sure you remember my telling you that we keep participants under observation from time to time," Jo says, "just to ensure your well-being."

I bite my lip and shake my head. I know what's coming next.

The girl in the video pushes back the blanket from her bed. It's clear that she has her hands between her legs. She's naked; how could it not be? I know that it's me, but it's like watching someone else. The girl arches her back, pushing her crotch forward against her hands. It's worse, the camera zooms in, the girl's hands and her crotch fill the screen. Jo moves the mouse and the sound comes on, too. "Ylena, Ylena, Ylena," I am repeating over and over again. And then, "Joe, Joe, Joe." The girl in the picture gives a whimper. She, I mean I, obviously comes and then lays back exhausted.

"It's not like you think," I start. I'm embarrassed, but I'm also angry that they've been filming me surreptitiously.

"Isn't it? Why not?"

"Because 'Jo', isn't you. It's my husband. It's 'Joe' I'm saying, not 'Jo'. Look in my file, you'll see."

"And what was I thinking? You said, 'It's not what you think.' I wondered what it was that you thought that I thought."

"I, I, I," and suddenly I realise that I don't have the slightest idea. I suppose I expected Jo to disapprove in some way. To feel that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing. And, I've felt exactly the same way about Joe too; assuming that he was making judgements about me, guessing what he feels, when actually I don't really know, because I've never really asked him.

"Look," said Jo with concern, "we are very anxious to make sure that nothing prevents you from achieving the goals you set yourself when you came here. We know that it's possible for sexual urges to be heightened by the situation here and we want to be sure that you have every opportunity to act out any fantasies that you have as part of the programme. There really shouldn't be a need for secretive sexual activity."

"Oh," I say. "I see." I'm anxious for the conversation to end as quickly as possible.

"And if you must, Fifty, remember it's 'Mistress Ylena' and 'Mistress Josephine' just to be on the safe side." Jo is smiling in a friendly way.

"I said it wasn't you, it was my husband."

"OK, that's fine, Fifty." I'm not sure if she believes me, or not. I'm not sure if I believe me, or not. "But, we still need to talk about this. In your application form, when you were asked if you were prepared to be involved in sexual contact with your fellow participants, you said 'possibly'. I just wanted to check whether your views had changed since you got here?"

"Changed?"

"Yes. Whether you had come to the conclusion that you definitely were prepared for such interactions, or whether you had decided that you weren't, or whether you still wanted to keep an open mind? We won't do anything that conflicts with your responses on the application form, you know that. But equally, we wouldn't want you to miss out on experiences, because of a decision that you made earlier that needs to be updated in the light of experience."

"I don't know, Mistress," I say, biting my lip. That's certainly true. I'd forgotten about the application form. I filled it in so long ago, or so it seems now. I guess I owe it to the research to experience this, though. It's true that I have been fantasising about sex with the other participants and the staff - and Joe, of course. I haven't been with a woman since I married Joe, well since I broke up with Angela, but it's hard not to look at Ylena or Carrie or Charlotte without going weak at the knees. But, I want to do these things with Joe, I've always wanted to do these things with Joe. It's just that somehow I couldn't ask, or he wouldn't listen or, well, I don't really know. And, there's something about Gerry too, I could just imagine myself...

"Fifty?" Jo interrupts my daydreaming. I jerk my attention back to her questions.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Your mind seemed to have wandered off. I don't need an answer now, but I did want to give you the chance to reconsider your choice. All right?"

"Yes, Mistress." I make my decision. I have to say 'yes' for the sake of the research, I tell myself, and for Joe and me. Maybe, if I work this out of my system we can find a way back? Or, maybe I can work out how to get us both to where we're both happy. "I've thought about it and I think you should change that answer to 'yes'. Definitely."

"If you are sure, Fifty," Jo says, caringly.

I nod. "Yes," I say, "quite sure."

"In which case, there needs to be a change of behaviour. No more masturbating!"

I'm surprised by this, but I know I have to accept what Jo says. "No Mistress."

"Unless of course, you are specifically directed to by one of the staff. You will carry out any such sexual acts with the other slaves as you are directed. You will make your mouth, vagina and arse available, as required. You are the sexual property of your owners and you will behave as such. Do you understand?"

Jo says this so gently, smiling as she carefully enunciates the words. It sounds so reasonable and so natural. I am almost ashamed I held back when I made my original application. But, sexual property? Well, yes I, suppose that makes sense, a slave is property after all. My arse? I hadn't thought about that? I've never ... Well no, never. Apart from when Ylena did that with the electrical probe. Oh! I hadn't even thought about that before.

"I said, did you understand, Fifty?"

"Yes. Yes, Mistress."

Jo turns back to her computer. "All right, Fifty. I've updated your file on the system. The staff will be aware of the change in your profile."

"Thank you, Mistress Josephine," I hear myself saying.

"That's all right, Fifty. We want to make sure that you get everything you can out of your stay with us. Now, what is planned for you today?"

"I have to see Gerry, Mistress. He wants to check that I am shaving my head correctly. And then, there's domestic duties and..."

"All right, Fifty. Off you go."

I make my way up to Gerry's room. He's not there when I arrive, so I sit myself down in the chair to wait. Minutes later, I hear his laughing voice in the corridor and jump up out of my seat. It would never do to be sitting down when he came in.

"Hey, honey!" He exclaims when he comes through the door. "If it ain't my white Diallo! I may have two of you ladies to shave, but you sure have the cutest scalp."

I smile, pleased to be complimented.

"Here to have your daily smooth 'n shine?"

"Yes, Gerry," I say.

"You getting used to it now??? That tan stuff working out?"

I nod. Gerry turns to his lap top. I know that the staff always check the files before they start a session, but this time I know what he's going to see. He doesn't say anything about that though, he just says, "Hop up on the chair honey. Let's get this done."

I get back onto the chair. He swings me around and tips me back. He picks up his electric razor and there's a whirring sound behind me. There's hardly any stubble on my head, but Gerry insists I get the once over every day. Heaven knows how I'll explain it when I get home. "So, how are you settling in? Did you enjoy the garden party? Didn't you look cute with the straps across your scalp."

I hardly get the chance to answer. Gerry's chatter is as effective at keeping me quiet as the muzzle was. I'm barely paying attention.

" ... and you've owned up to feeling just a bit sexy, I see."

Now I'm paying attention.

"Well, that's pretty honest by my book. The way you move, you're every bit as sensual as Miss Ramatoulaye, believe me! So you should get the fun of it. Sex is the greatest game. You're not too bad looking, you know. For a whitey." I feel him reach down and brush the ring in my right nipple. "You'll have a lot of fun, believe me." He continues to stroke my ring gently. The teasing sensation convinces me that he is right. I give a quiet whimper.

He leaves the ring be and turns his attention to my head again. "Now, I ain't got no time to play with you - more's the pity — but, we'd better make sure your scalp doesn't dry out." He's rubbing some moisturiser in — it feels as sexy as when he was playing with my nipple ring.

"They got you working out yet?"

At first I think this is some sexual innuendo, but then I realise he's talking about body building again. I nod my head.

"I think that's a really good idea. You'll be surprised how much you can achieve with just an hour or so a day. I'll have a word with Jo and talk about how you are getting on. When your muscles start to stand out, you're going to look even better than you do now. And, they'll help your stamina. Gonna need that now you've put yourself on the sexual carousel."

I hadn't thought I was putting myself on any 'carousel' - surely he is teasing me, anyway? But, maybe I've misjudged things again. Gerry tells me I can go. I have housekeeping to do.

I get as far as the corridor outside some of the staff offices. I see George's back as I pass the door of one. I've only just gone by his office when I hear him call me to a halt. "Fifty!"

I stop and turn back to his room. "Yes sir," I respond, wondering how he knew I was there.

He gets up from his desk and walks over towards me. "I see that you've changed your status on sexual behaviours." I see that he's got the RFID Tracker window open on the screen of his PC, explaining how he knew I was passing by.

He's not really asking a question, but I reply anyway. "Yes, Sir."

"Good," he says. "You can help out with one of your colleagues. Follow me." He sets off down the corridor. I have to scurry to keep up with him. He leads the way into a room where Carrie is standing waiting submissively with her hands behind her back and her head bowed.

"Right, Fifty-two," George says to Carrie. "We'll try again now, but with Fifty here. Do you think you can do any better?"

"I'll try, Sir," Carrie responds. She doesn't sound very convinced.

"Well, then," says George, "you'd better start."

Carrie looks across at me shyly. "I'm sorry about this," she says in an embarrassed tone. I'm puzzled by her words. She takes me by the hand and leads me to one wall. There's a ring set up above head height. Carrie points to it and lifts my arm. I understand that she wants me to reach up for the ring and I do as she indicates. She takes my wrists and fastens the clips on my wrist, cuffs together, so that they are linked to the ring.

George is standing watching carefully. "Good," he says, "go on."

Carrie responds. "You know how difficult this is."

"Of course. That's not important. The only important thing is that you do as you are told. You are owned. You are property. You do as you are told. In this, as in everything else."

"But, I've never..."

"I know. That's why I'm asking you to do it. If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth doing. Would it?"

Carrie shakes her head disconsolately. I'm standing there feeling a little foolish. My hands are up over my head and my arms are aching already. I watch as Carrie walks across towards me. She's wearing the grey sweat top and short skirt that all the slaves that weren't dumb enough to get their clothing instructions wrong are required to wear. I take some comfort from the fact that her auburn curls were shaved the same day that my hair was taken off. She's still as bald as I am. As she gets to my side, she drops to her knees and turns to look at George.

He folds his arms. Waiting.

Carrie reaches out with one hand, stroking my ankle and I realise what it is that George has told her to do. As she runs her hand up my leg and on to the soft skin on the inside of my thigh, I wriggle a little. "Hey! What is this?" I call out redundantly.

Neither George nor Carrie show any signs of being interested in what I have to say.

Carrie uses her hands to part my thighs. Angela did something similar to me once. She tied my wrists to the head rail and kept me there for hours playing with me. Now Carrie's fingers are playing with my crotch. Running her hands across my belly, probing with her fingers between my moistening lips as I respond to her touch, aroused by the combination of her touch, my helplessness and George's dispassionate, appraising stare.

"Is she getting wet," George asks without concern for my sensibilities.

"Yes, Sir," Carrie replies. Her fingers probe deeper and bring a soft "Oh!" from me.

"Good," says George. "You're doing better than this morning. Continue."

I look down. Carrie is pushing my legs apart with her hands. She moves her head towards my crotch. I see only her smooth, hairless scalp but I feel her tongue beginning to probe at my sex. As she licks and probes with her tongue, I feel myself react, pushing my hips forward to press my crotch against her face arching my legs to lift myself up towards the ring that holds my wrists above my head.