Authors: Loki Renard
Sarah giggled into her drink.
“You’ve got your hands full with that one,” Robert said to Austin.
“Oh, I know that,” Austin agreed. “I didn’t know about the incarceration, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
A few sips in, Sarah was beginning to relax. She had not at all liked the judge when she’d first met him. She’d found him particularly humorless and unresponsive. Now, however, he did not seem quite so bad. Part of it was the fact he had no ability to incarcerate her while standing in his kitchen, and part of it was the fact that he was actually smiling now, as he certainly had not done on that particular day.
“I knew I liked you,” Anastasia declared. “Robert told me about you when that happened. I couldn’t stop laughing in the restaurant. Scenes were made.”
Sarah’s smile grew to a grin. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Austin and Robert exchanged looks. “I think we should keep these two separate,” Robert said mildly.
“Is the party moving in here?”
The lady who had been caressing the younger man’s hair came into the room.
“No, Rebecca,” Anastasia said. “I brought Sarah in here to get her a drink and what would you know, the menfolk had to swap war stories about her. Apparently Sarah is a troublemaker.”
“Is that so?” Rebecca’s eyes settled on Sarah. “Yes,” she said. “I can see that.”
It seemed everyone at the party was immediately convinced of Sarah’s inherent deviancy. Sarah thought that might be because everyone in attendance was clearly some kind of deviant themselves. These apparently straight-laced people were far wilder than many of the free spirits Sarah was used to associating with.
“Have you met everyone?” Anastasia asked the question, shaking her head. “We haven’t introduced you properly at all, have we?” She looped her arm through Sarah’s and drew her back into the lounge where the remainder of the guests were.
“This is Chase,” she said, gesturing toward the young man now sitting on the couch. He was handsome, with sensitive eyes and full lips. Sarah recognized an artistic soul in him.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi,” he smiled.
“And this is Earnest and his partners Sybil and Hannah.”
Sybil was pale and blond, a beautifully languid woman who seemed poured into every pose she took. Hannah was also blond, but a strawberry blond. Her mouth was wide as were her eyes. There was something about her that spoke to cosmetic tweaking of her features, a certain lack of blemishes and lines, although she was certainly in her mid-thirties and surely she couldn’t have lived that long without ever smiling.
“Hello,” Sarah said.
“Hello, Sarah.” Earnest had a deep baritone and unsettlingly intense eyes. He could have played Heathcliff in a community theater production of
Wuthering Heights
. Though he was wearing relatively modest and modern clothing, she could imagine him in a high collar, plying a lash in his large, haired hand.
“Hello,” Sybil and Hannah chorused in turn, following their master’s lead.
Sarah had known several polyamorous triads in her life. In her experience it was usually a result of open minds and free hearts. That did not seem to be the case in the instance of Earnest, Sybil, and Hannah. She could tell that he ruled their relationship with an iron hand. The women made no movement without reference to him and glanced at him frequently with adoring gazes that spoke to a kind of rare devotion. Looking at the three of them, Sarah knew she was in the presence of something unusual.
As conversation moved on they were like three little thorns in her mind, strange in some way that went beyond their clearly unorthodox relationship. She could not stop glancing over at them, watching how they interacted. Sybil stayed to his left, Hannah to his right. They did not seem to have much to say to one another, but each hung on his every word as if he were speaking deep wisdom every time he opened his mouth.
“We’re all here,” Robert said, interrupting Sarah’s observation of his guests. “I think dinner is ready, isn’t it?”
Anastasia nodded. “I’ll see if Matilda has it ready.”
So they had a servant. That made sense, Sarah supposed. She’d never seen the appeal of paying someone to clean her home and prepare her food, but that was because she was the sort of person who believed that money didn’t make her better than other people, she…
Sarah’s somewhat self-righteous mental tirade was cut off as she drifted toward the dining room and saw Matilda. Matilda was not any normal maid. She was a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and pleasantly symmetrical features, wearing a collar as so many of the others were. That was where the resemblance ended, however, for she was naked. Completely and utterly naked.
Sarah shot Austin a shocked look.
“What,” he said, putting his hand on her lower back. “Nobody ever took their clothes off at one of your parties?”
“Well… yes… but…” There wasn’t really a but.
“Thank you, Matilda. It all looks lovely,” Robert said, pressing a brief, almost chaste kiss to the woman’s cheek.
“Did she cook naked?” Sarah whispered the question to Austin. “Isn’t that a health and safety issue?”
“I’m sure she wore an apron,” Austin murmured back.
The guests sat at Robert’s invitation. Well, some of them did. The two women with the stern man knelt on the floor on either side of his chair, so did the young man who had come with Rebecca. Sarah made darn sure she got a chair. Anastasia sat to Robert’s left, the maid Matilda sat to his right, her nipples pink and perky over white china.
Dinner was food. Sarah barely noticed it. She was far too distracted by the company, and the dynamics between the guests. It was obvious that the people they were with all engaged in the same kind of relationship she had begun to explore with Austin. Some of them clearly took it to a greater degree than others. The ones on the floor both made her curious and slightly uncomfortable. What made them sit down there? It couldn’t possibly be as comfortable as sitting at the table.
“Why are they on the floor?” She asked the question
sotto voce
as conversation rose around them.
“I’ll explain it all later,” Austin promised her. “Right now, let’s just say it’s because they enjoy it and it’s part of their relationship.”
“It’s got to be hell on their knees,” Sarah murmured under her breath.
The actual content of the conversation was fairly innocuous, though there were a few differences from a normal dinner party. Earnest fed his two companions from his own fork, which made the meal take quite a lot longer than it otherwise would have. When one was taking a bite, the other let out a whine.
“Sybil, quiet,” Earnest said firmly. “You will wait your turn.”
“If only she could operate a fork on her own,” Sarah muttered under her breath. “How sad for her to have such a debilitating condition.”
“Shh,” Austin replied.
“You shush,” Sarah replied. “You can’t take me somewhere weird and expect me to pretend it isn’t weird.”
“I’m not asking you to pretend anything; I’m asking you to be polite.”
“I’m not
not
being polite,” Sarah said in terse tones.
By this stage, other diners were starting to notice the little nexus of tension at their part of the table. Conversation was quelled as questioning eyes turned in their direction. Austin smiled somewhat grimly at his friends as Sarah took a defiant bite of her dinner.
She understood that some of the guests had entered into an agreement with their partners to take on subordinate roles. She understood that they enjoyed that too, but for some reason observing it made her feel prickly and a little bit rebellious.
“Is everything alright?” Anastasia was to Sarah’s left, a perfect position to overhear her grumbling.
“Everything is lovely,” Sarah said. “I especially like how I can put my own food in my own mouth.”
Anastasia gave her an incredulous half-smile and shook her head in warning. “Shh,” she said, giving in to a little giggle. “They’ll hear you.”
“They’ll hear me, but will they be able to do anything about it? I mean, they can’t use their own hands…”
“Oh, Sarah, no… shhhh,” Anastasia said, making a quieting motion with her fork. “It’s not like that. It’s a way for them to feel connected… you’ll understand when you’ve learned a little more about this lifestyle.”
“Do you have a question, Sarah?” It was Earnest who spoke, his clipped tones and the resonant, Gothic tone of his voice striking some form of existential terror into her breast.
“Do you need a spare fork over there? Seems to be cutlery rationing taking place,” she quipped.
Neither Earnest nor his companions found her little joke to be amusing. Nor did Austin.
“There could be some crate time in your future if you’re not careful,” Austin said loudly enough for everyone to hear. There was a series of little chortles in response to his comment, which she had not understood. Obviously there was some joke she was not getting. There was a lot she was not getting there in the judge’s house.
“Crate time?”
“Pets that don’t behave spend some time in their crates,” Robert said, gesturing toward what Sarah had first taken to be a large sideboard in the corner of the room. She now realized that it was no such thing. It was a cage of sorts, large enough for a human to fit inside quite comfortably, as long as they were content to sit or kneel or lie down.
Only then did Sarah make the connection. She was being threatened with being confined if she did not behave.
“Seriously?” She hissed the question at Austin.
“Seriously,” he replied firmly.
“You are out of your fucking mind,” she declared boldly, no longer bothering to keep her voice down. It was obvious that they were being listened to by that point. All attempt at polite discussion had been abandoned in favor of looking at her with unmistakable judgment.
“Come here,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Excuse me,” he addressed the rest of the group. “Sarah and I need to have a little talk.”
There was a smattering of murmurs as Austin led Sarah out of the dining room and up the stairs to a spare bedroom, which Sarah noted he knew the precise location of without having to look around. He shut the door behind them, and she unleashed before he could.
“You embarrassed me!” she accused him hotly. “Taking me out of there like some… like some…”
“Like a badly behaved little brat,” he said, sitting down on the bed. Sarah opened her mouth to respond to his comment, but all that came out was a squeal as he yanked her over his thighs without any warning at all.
Her dress pulled super tight over her bottom, stubbornly covering her cheeks but providing nothing in the way of protection against his palm. It hurt from the very first slap, a pain that not only stung, but embarrassed her further. Everyone knew what was happening to her. Half a dozen people were out there picking at their vegetables and probably listening to the sounds of her being punished.
Fine. If Austin wanted to make a spectacle, she’d help him. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, so loud and so piercing that he was forced to stop spanking her to cover her mouth for a moment.
“Stop that this instant,” he growled in serious tones. “I am not spanking you that hard.”
Sarah bit his hand.
Austin swore and shook his fingers, two of which bore the marks of her teeth.
There was a tap at the door. Sarah was sure that she had been saved, but all that happened was Austin slid her off his lap without a word, went to answer the door, and exchanged a few words with Robert. Sarah didn’t hear precisely what was said, but he soon shut the door and turned back with something in his hand. A length of leather with a round rubber ball in the middle. A gag.
“What the fuck is that?” she said, knowing precisely what it was.
“It’s what you’re going to have in your mouth for the rest of this session, and for the rest of the evening if you’re not careful.”
“I’m not putting that in my mouth,” Sarah said.
“I know,” Austin agreed. “I am.”
He had a look of quiet determination that made her stomach do flip-flops as he came toward her quite nonchalant, as if gagging women was something he did all the time.
“Austin! No!” She tried being firm, but it didn’t work on him. He was still advancing and she was running out of places to go. Finally, in an act of desperation, she threw herself face down on the bed and buried her head under the covers so he could not possibly put it in her mouth.
A very hard slap to her bottom made her realize the foolishness of that plan. Austin didn’t ask her to come out of her little hiding spot, he simply spanked her until not coming out was no longer an option.
“Austin!”
Sarah came up for air and to screech his name. Austin was lightning quick in taking hold of the back of her neck with one hand and slipping the ball into her mouth with the other. In seconds she was gagged, the leather straps secured behind her head.
Unable to speak, or scream, or do anything other than breathe heavily through the holes in the ball, Sarah gave Austin a wide-eyed look with no small amount of fear in it. She had never anticipated such treatment, and although she might have provoked it, finding herself unable to speak was very unsettling.
“It’s alright,” Austin said. “This isn’t going to hurt you one bit. It’s just going to ensure that you don’t scream the house down in your efforts to avoid a very, very well deserved spanking.”
Sarah let out a little whimper. From the moment she’d stepped over the threshold she’d sensed she was out of her depth. Now she was so far out of it she felt as though she were sinking. Tears began to well in her eyes as she looked into Austin’s eyes and silently begged him for some kind of mercy.
Austin caressed her cheek gently, then pulled her back over his thighs to resume the spanking. Completely powerless, Sarah could do nothing to stop the hard swats that landed again and again, painting nigh unbearable heat across her bottom.
It did not take long for her to start crying, and then sobbing. Waves of upset were crashing over her, emotional pain mingling with physical. She did not entirely know the source of it, but she knew that it was almost too much to handle.