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The sails billowed strongly in the wind, and flapped noisily. Quietly as I could, I crept onto the Upper Deck and started climbing to the Crows Nest. I was barely at the first platform when I realised this was a ridiculous idea. The wind, chilled my fingers to the bone, while nearly dragging me off the ladders when it got strong. The low light, meant I was searching for each step in the dark.In total it took twenty minutes to climb to the top of the Crows Nest and I gingerly opened the hatch. I could make out a figure knelt over the basket on the opposite side of the hatch and I hissed Tara's name.She jumped and looked.'John ... what the fuck do you want?''To speak to you''Do you have any idea what would happen if I told the Captain you were up here?''Yes, but you won't, will you?''I might', she told me. 'Now what do you want?''I'll be honest... ', I told her as I closed the hatch. 'I'm terrified of the Court Martial when we land'Tara snorted. 'Well I can't help you with that''Tara. Tori and David really had been too Vanilla, because under Margaret's harsher regime, I flourished.However, I was not permitted to remain a lady of leisure. Margaret quickly introduced me to a regime of strict training. First I learned to dress how she liked her femme to dress, and oddly I found that I very much liked it too, and quite apart from pleasing her I began to dress like that all the time. I discovered that the couture dresses and tailored suits she favoured looked fabulous on my figure. I could certainly afford them, and my delight in wearing her choices, and wearing them well, made us both happy. Beneath the tailored cloth, black lace, silk stockings, and old-fashioned suspenders all entered my wardrobe, occasionally as gifts from Margaret, more often as my gifts to her. Makeup too, which as a feminist I had almost entirely renounced, Margaret took a delight in delicately and with surprising skill applying to my face, darkening my eyes, reddening my lips, helping me to.
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