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   PET

   8.  THE TANTRUM

   After the day of Cissy's dinner party, I thought that life would be
totally different and totally great for me at the House.  Of course that
wasn't true, but it was better, much better.  I got along with Lucy and
Vivian, slowly getting to know and like them and earning their trust.  Now
that I was suddenly and inexplicably getting interested in all the "girl
stuff" that had made me so uncomfortable before, I needed their help all
the time.  Lucy, particularly, seemed to have the answer to every question
about every girl thing from nylons to night sweats, and I began to wonder
how I had ever gotten along without her.  I saw Nicole at the pool and we
made arrangements to do our workouts together, and she was really sweet and
fun.  I did better at getting to my class musters on time and cleaned up
properly and with my reading done.  The other girls seemed to accept me
more, and I kind of became the girl with the necklace, and I was so proud
of it.  It represented the difference between the old Pet who hated
everybody and couldn't do anything right, and the new Pet who was pretty
and did okay and got along with people, and whose Lady was proud of her.

   Some things I was still not so good at.  One was keeping my room picked
up.  I just couldn't seem to think about it.  Fortunately Lucy and Vivian
were patient with me and helped keep it straight, but I could never find
anything when I wanted it, and it was frustrating and I got mad sometimes.
Mostly at myself, and I tried so hard not to take it out on others, but
that didn't always work.  It seemed to be just a part of my personality
that I lost it when I was frustrated.  The big difference now was that I
was so sorry afterward that I would hate myself and get depressed and cry.
At those times, Cissy could have been gentle and supportive and caring, but
she wasn't.  She expected me to do well at everything, and now that we had
a better relationship she started to push me more and I didn't like it. 
Vivian said I was like a very well-bred horse, fast and beautiful but
high-strung and willful.  I supposed it was kind of true, but I said horses
were supposed to be broken and girls weren't.

   One other thing I had trouble with was my sexual relationship with
Cissy. She called me to her suite sometimes, and even more often she came
to my room for an hour or two before she went to sleep.  She seemed to
insist that we spend that time together, as if there were some kind of
schedule.  I was willing, I really honestly was.  Cissy gave me chills when
we were together, her magical fingers and superb beauty and endless
imagination and understanding of my body gave her a power over me that went
far beyond our "official" relationship.  But I wasn't content.  I was
happier, but I couldn't be content sleeping with Cissy even when I honestly
tried.  In a strange way, no matter how Cissy wore me out, it always seemed
as if, emotionally, there should be something more.  I thought about it a
lot and even asked Lucy what could be wrong.  She didn't know.  Finally I
decided that it was because, in bed, I served Cissy.  Of course I did, she
deserved it and demanded it as her right.  It was natural for her.  But now
that all these feminine emotions seemed to be waking up inside me, what I
wanted was to make love.  To have a lover I could learn along with, share
my feelings with and sometimes take a little initiative with in bed, just a
LITTLE.  Cissy understood that, she always understood everything.  But
without really discussing it she gave me to understand that I had to be
patient, that a relationship like that was in my future, not now.

   I didn't WANT to be patient.  I continued to welcome Cissy and I did
everything she said.  She even sent me to two other Ladies over the next
couple of weeks, and I did everything that was expected of me without a
complaint.  One was Mademoiselle Shannon.  She was demanding and strict,
with a very narrow range of tastes that were really hard for me to get
into, but I performed the best I could, for Cissy, and Shannon seemed
reasonably pleased.  There was nothing that Cissy could point her finger at
and tell me I was doing wrong.  But after we had sex, I was kind of remote
and thoughtful as we lay together and when she left, I didn't mind.

   She almost always tied me lightly when we had sex, my wrists behind my
back with a soft linen cord that she favored because it didn't leave marks.
It was a reminder that our sexual encounters were at least partly training
exercises, and she was in complete control of them.  She didn't like me
using my hands unless she gave them a specific purpose, and it had never
really bothered me.  She did everything anyway, and when I came it even
felt kind of exciting to be a little more helpless in her hands.  It wasn't
even awkward for me any more.  After she was gone, Vivian would untie me
and put me to sleep in her sweet, caring way, massaging my shoulders and
dressing me in fresh nightclothes and stuff before turning out the light.
At Cissy's, I would sleep tied.  It made me stiff but not so much that I
couldn't loosen up when I worked out later that day.

   My life went on that way, improved but hardly perfect, for a couple of
weeks, and then I had a bad day.  I had stayed at Cissy's and she had
worked me pretty hard and late in bed before going to sleep, and I had
slept next to her with my wrists tied.  It wasn't anything new or that I
couldn't handle, but it was uncomfortable and when I woke up with a
headache in addition to my sore shoulders, I was in a very dangerous mood.
Cissy was gone as usual; she went to work early at her office in the south
wing.  Her personal maid, Sylva, came in and brought me a washcloth along
with Cissy's instructions, and she said I was to stay at Cissy's, skip my
workout and get cleaned up, and then be tied again and ready in bed because
Cissy had invited Mademoiselle Shannon to come and spend the afternoon with
me.  Sylva told me this as she was untying my wrists, so she couldn't see
my face, which turned out to be a mistake.  When she was finished I turned
around and pushed her away and told her I wasn't going to do anything of
the kind.  She gave a startled yelp and backed away from me and I went
after her, screaming at her to call Cissy right now, that I was going to
tell her the same fucking thing.

   I had forgotten my shackle, and it brought me up short a step or two
away from the bed.  That made me even more crazy.  Lucy might have been
able to calm me down, but Sylva had no idea how to handle me and she tried
to insist that I should be good.  You can probably imagine what kind of
effect THAT tactic had.  By the time Cissy arrived I had had a full-blown
tantrum and everything near her bed that wasn't nailed down had been thrown
at Sylva and the day maid, and they were cowering by the door out of reach.
I had slept in a satin camisole that Cissy had given me, and I had ripped
it to shreds and fought my shackle so hard that my ankle was badly bruised.
There was broken stuff everywhere and I was lying face-down across the bed,
nude, weeping with frustration and exhaustion and shame.  Cissy walked
calmly in and sat next to me as the maids went wide-eyed with apprehension.
Sylva said, "Mademoiselle..." in a choked voice, but Cissy silenced her
with a raised hand.  She touched me gently and I raised my tear-streaked
face and moaned, "Cissy, please, please no...I can't..." and started
sobbing again, burying my head.

   She stroked my back, slowly, slowly, calming me and after a while I
stopped crying and got a better idea of what was going on and what I had
done, and I put my face up against her thigh and whispered, "Oh, Cissy, I'm
so sorry, I didn't really mean it.  I'm so, so sorry."

   "I know, Pet," she said softly, with a real compassion that was rare for
her.  She put her hands on my shoulders and got me out of the bed, and then
guided me down onto my knees next to it and stood in front of me.  I
automatically laced my fingers behind my bottom, and she put her finger
under my wet chin and lifted my head up and looked into my eyes, her lovely
face sad and resigned.  She pulled a tiny key from inside her bosom and
bent down and unlocked my necklace and took it off.  As my tears welled
again and I started to make a high, soft keening sound, she said, "It
belongs to you, Pet, and I am not taking it from you.  But it is my
responsibility to decide what you will wear, and I have decided that Lucy
will keep your necklace for you for the next two days.  Today you will rest
in your room.  Tomorrow you will go to class without it."

   I thought I might as well just die.  I wished I could die.  In my room
later, bathed and powdered and in my bed with Lucy holding my hand, I tried
to think of ways to die.  I would not be consoled.  I couldn't eat, and
Lucy and Vivian didn't have the heart to call Cissy and force me.

   The next day, I learned the price of pride.  None of the other girls
said anything, maybe no one even noticed.  But it didn't matter.  Walking
down that hall without my necklace to join the other girls for class was
the hardest thing I'd ever done.  All the terrible punishments I had
endured seemed trivial compared to that one perfectly normal afternoon at
class.  I paid attention and even answered the one question I was asked,
but when I got back to my room I walked past Lucy without even seeing her.
I put my books back on their shelf and my purse on the bureau, took off my
uniform, put it in the hamper, set my pumps in their proper place on the
closet rack, turned down the covers and crawled into my bed, gathered up my
best and most favorite Teddy bear and sobbed as if my heart would break.

   I never had another tantrum at the House.  I've never had another
tantrum in my life.  Cissy let Lucy put my necklace back on me that night,
early.  I think Lucy went and begged her.  As I knelt on my bed and Lucy
locked it on, I took hold of her wrists and kissed her hands.

   *****

   In Episode 9, Pet has a strange, inexplicable encounter.  Could she be
falling in love with someone, when she doesn't know who they are or what
they look like?