Chapter 20: The Problem With Research

Course 8 / Day 27: Course Progress Meeting

Participant Notes: Fifty

Jo: I conducted an informal progress review with Fifty this pm. I'm pleased overall with her progress. After worries early on as to how well she would respond to obedience training (given her initial presentation when she started the course), I consider that those issues need no longer give concern. Fifty appears comfortable (or at least acquiesces) with the regime and her expectations from the course seem to be being met. HOWEVER: I wish to raise the question of her motivation for joining the course, which may not have been entirely recreational. See attached transcript from an extract of the review meeting.

Jenny's Recollections:

It's Usefulness Time, the day's training sessions are completed. Earlier, Jo decided that she would practice some of the lessons she learned about shibari from Ylena. My arms still carry the pressure marks from the rope. Ylena stopped by as Jo was finishing and nodded her approval. "Soon I think you will wear the colours of the Russian flag for me, slooga," she says to me.

Now I am kneeling beside Mistress Jo's chair holding a tray with jug of water and a glass.

"How was your training today, Fifty?" Jo asks.

"I did my best, Mistress," I respond, trying, and not quite succeeding, to suppress a smile, because things did not go too well; I have quite a lot to learn about which plants in the flower beds are actually weeds and which are not. Jo must have heard about this faux pas, because she narrows one eye slightly as she takes the glass from the tray and sips from it before returning it to its position. Flippant comments are clearly out of place tonight

"I wanted to talk with you about how you feel you are progressing; how you feel about your stay here."

"I'm very happy, Mistress," I reply.

"You can call me Jo, for now."

"I'm very happy — Jo — really I am." It is beginning to feel quite strange to use someone's proper name. A bit like being back at school and being asked by one of the teachers to call them by their first name. I am almost more used to being called "Fifty" or "slave" than I am to being Jenny. Funny — how strange that sounds...

"In your application you said that you wanted to 'find out if this type of sexual trip is as exciting in reality as it is in my head'. Is that working out for you?"

I nod. "Yes, Jo," I say. "More than I expected. Some of it is hard. Well, a lot of it, really. Even my fantasies hadn't got into some of the things that I have been doing here and..." I notice that Jo is peering at me from beneath arched eyebrows and realise that I have let my self sit back on my haunches. She grins as she sees that I have recognised my mistake and kneel up again.

"This doesn't come easy to you, does it?"

"No, Jo. In my real life, I'm very used to thinking for myself. I have to be very independent and self sufficient."

"That's not something we encourage here. You will have had quite a culture shock. Here you have to try to think what is that we want of you."

"I know. Well, the, er, how should I put it? The change of lifestyle? That's what I wanted to explore..."

"So remind me what you did, what you do? In real life?"

"In real life? It's funny: in many ways what I am doing now seems more like real life. Officially, I'm described as a Research Student. I work in a university. My post has me lecturing, giving tutorials to the students and researching. And, being run ragged. The popular idea of university life is people drifting along rivers in punts past wonderful medieval colleges and occasionally doing a bit of work. In fact, it often feels more like being a slave chasing all these different goals. Priorities always shifting. Everything needed at once. And, I'm married and with my husband away quite a bit, that can be difficult, too. So, being here with one thing to do at once and being told exactly what to do — is really wonderful, for a change at least!

"Well, that's definitely not the reply I was expecting! So what's your research area?"

"You'd find it interesting," I say. I'm always pleased to talk about my work. Most of the time people just glaze over and while I've been here the only intellectual stimulus has been trying to keep track of everything for the paper I'm going to write when I get back.

Pleased to be asked about my work, I spill out more than I should say, really. "It's psychology. Mainly looking at people's reactions under stress. How increased stress affects judgement; whether the complexity of the stresses alters their combined impact on the individual; whether interpersonal relationships add to or reduce stress; what the impact of stress on sexual desire is; how much the environment contributes to psychological stress; that sort of thing."

"Well, you'll see plenty of that here. This would be an ideal laboratory for that sort of ... investigation." Jo is looking at me with a quizzical expression.

Blast! What have I said? It's best practice in psychological research to be discreet with your subjects about the questions you are really interested in. It's supposed to help them give honest answers. The Inward Bound people are my "sample" and I have let the cat out of the bag. Blast! Blast! I try to recover the situation:

"No, No. This is very different. Nothing like everyday life. You couldn't compare this with people's normal stresses. Even if you thought that there were similarities." Oh no, that's even worse. It sounds like I've been thinking about it. She looks like she doesn't believe a word I'm saying. I'm not sure what to do next. Perhaps diversionary tactics; "Would you like some more water, Mistress?" It's feeble, but it's the best I can do.

"No, thank you, Fifty," she says. I notice she doesn't ask me to call her 'Jo' again and she brings the discussion to a rather abrupt close. "We always ask at these review sessions, if you wish to end your participation, but I'm guessing that you don't?"

I shake my head.

"Good. Well that will do for now. This is still your Usefulness Time, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress," I say.

"Well go, and tidy my room, Fifty. And, when you've finished return to your cell for lock in."

"Yes, Mistress," I say again getting to my feet and bowing my head as I have been taught.

It doesn't take long to tidy Jo's room, but I know that I have to have everything placed perfectly. She treats me fairly, but she won't overlook any mistakes and I don't want the demerits. With luck, she'll forget about our conversation. I hope.

As I put the last of Jo's things away in her room, George appears. "Have you finished, Fifty?" he asks.

"Yes, Sir," I say respectfully. George seems preoccupied.

"Hmm. Good. Well I have a further task for you. Come with me."

I follow him down to a small room. He opens the door. Inside, Judy is standing, waiting.

"Here, you are, Nineteen," he announces to Judy. "Here is the treat I promised you."

Judy smiles, evidently in anticipation.

"Can I have her with her wrists cuffed behind her, please Sir?" Judy asks. I'm disconcerted. I'm used to being discussed this way by the staff at Inward Bound, but not by the other slaves.

"Of course," says George, gripping my wrists gently, but firmly and fastening my cuffs together. I don't struggle, naturally, but I do give him a puzzled look. "You've already shown your skills, Fifty," he says. "Nineteen here has earned a treat. You are to serve her for an hour, or so. Do just as she says. As if I, or one of the other staff, were telling you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir, but..." I begin.

"No, Fifty, no buts. Do as Nineteen orders. I'll return to collect you in due course."

As he is about to leave, Judy lays back on the couch that stretches along one wall of the room. "Come here, slave," she says, beckoning me.

I really don't feel that this is right. She is a slave, just like me. She shouldn't be giving me orders.

"Come here," she says, more insistently, "come here and kneel."

"Do as you are told, Fifty," George says. He watches as I reluctantly approach the couch and kneel beside it. He nods with approval, as I stay still allowing Judy to play gently with my nipple rings. "Good," he says, "keep that up." And he leaves the two of us.

"What's going on?" I say as soon as he has gone.

"Silence, slave," Judy orders, placing a finger on my lips to reinforce her point. She is evidently enjoying her newly given powers. "You heard what was said. You are my reward. You are to serve me. I asked for you especially." After they way that she groped me the first time that I was take to see Ylena, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. "Now, use your mouth on my feet. Kiss them!"