The Owned Girl by Dominic Ridler Page A

been searching my mind to try to think why. What am I doing, or not doing, that they interpret as resistance?
         "I think, after intense self-examination, I may have the answer. When we were all out together yesterday, there was a boy I saw in the coffee shop. He was very cute looking, floppy brown hair that drooped over his dark brown eyes. He looked like a gorgeous puppy dog. I wanted to pet him and take him home. My owner caught me looking at him. He didn't say anything but perhaps he was annoyed. Ever since I broke up with Brian I am forbidden to date boys. My owner says I need to have my sexuality reformatted (he likes to use jargon like this). This sounds like a long, arduous process, and I confess I am concerned. Right now I wish to be owned; but not for ever. Eventually I want to have a normal life, like any girl, with a boy of my own. That is a natural instinct after all, and I can't curb my natural instincts just because my owner says I must.
         "Is that resistance? Perhaps. Maybe it would be easier if I was given some sort of schedule. How long is this to go on? When can I expect to date again? A month? Six months? A year? I don't feel I'm being consulted about this, although I am told it is in my own best interests.
         "I have resolved to have a little discussion. I'm not a whiny girl; I'm sweet natured and co-operative. But I'm passionate too. Of course I love my owner and my lady-owner too. But I don't think they always see how hard it is for me to obey. Give me some credit, I sometimes want to say. But I have to be careful. My owner is very strict on me if he thinks I am less than accepting. I got a hard spanking last week for being bratty. The marks are still there. I don't want another one just yet."
        I've tried to catch the mixture of querulousness and narcissism, combined with teasing glimpses of kinkiness and genuine psychological insights, which was so distinctive. Clearly, in writing like this Beth was sending us messages. Sometimes Matthew would simply ignore them. He told me it was good for Beth to have somewhere to sound off, but he wasn't going to take notice of every whinge and moan. She had to learn to knuckle under, as he put it. A lot of what she wrote did read like special pleading on her own behalf. I don't remember that she ever admitted any faults. I don't mean to imply it was all complaints. Some of it was entertaining and incisive, but it did often read as though she was rather put-upon.
        As regards to this particular complaint about dating, we did indeed discuss it with her, and Matthew made the point that she had not done very well with boys left to her own devices. He added that he and I had more experience of love and romance than she did, and could perhaps take a more objective view of what was best for her. Matthew assured her that we had no desire to suppress her natural instincts, but merely wished to make her better equipped to express them when we judged the time had come. She seemed to accept this, more or less. However, more or less was never good enough for Matthew. He would always push things with Beth, to the point when eventually she had to capitulate completely. Total and unconditional surrender was what he required. In this case, it was only after Matthew had given her a rather severe spanking that she accepted that we would be the ones to determine when dating was allowed once more. Even though physical discipline was the last resort for imposing his will on her, it was employed often, though not always as severely as on this occasion, when the spanking she feared in her blog was indeed administered, while the bruises from the previous one were still visible. Beth was literally beaten into surrender. This may seem cruel, but when it was over she wept (you have to believe me) tears of gratitude for being shown the error of her ways. And then when we took her to bed, her sweet little pink cunt was dripping from the perverse pleasure of