It was also obvious that the girl was receiving a little harsher treatment than she had. The girl's hands were untied and her raincoat removed before the woman pushed the chain button on the side of the wall causing the silver links to lower to the floor. The cuffs were attached to the girl's ankles, the button pushed again, and she rose upwards by her feet until they were close to the van roof. The girl swung freely, her. skirt falling down to her chest. The woman tied her hands to Pamela's ankles and Pamela found herself looking through the girl's legs.

"In case you're interested," said the woman, "my name's Jan. I will be your mistress at Avon- dale, which makes you two my slaves. You will be called slaves, for that is what you are until your parole."

Pamela digested Jan's words with a rather tongue-in-cheek acceptance. "Slave" wasn't a very modern word, after all. But Jan had said it without emphasis. It just rolled off her tongue like any other word. Well, thought Pamela, if she gets her kicks that way, okay.

"I'm twenty-four, like my job, like girls your age, am good at what I do! It won't matter wheth- er you like me or not, or play up to me, or make me angry. You'll get, the same treatment either way."

It was just that quick and she was out the door.

The van pulled away into the murky rain.

"Cor," said Pamela. "Something else, isn't she?

Well, at least she's not fat and ugly. Kinda cute in fact. But I think she's gonna be tough on us. I suspect she likes it. One of those kind! Hey hon, what the heck did you do to get hung up like that?"

"Sassed her in front of mum," said the girl.

"Sorry my voice is upside down. My name is

Donna Carson, what's yours?"

"Pamela McNee. Pam for short, obviously. Sorry we can't see each other, Donna," laughed Pamela.