by Loki Renard
“It looks good on you,” he said as he turned her back around to face him.
“I can’t wear a leather collar to a party,” she objected.
“Yes, you can. The party we’re going to, it’s practically part of the dress code.”
She shot him a questioning look, but he just smiled. “Come on,” he said. “We don’t want to be late.”
They drove to a very nice part of town, to a place with a sweeping half-circle driveway, Grecian columns, and other such trappings of wealth displayed in a moderately ostentatious manner.
Sarah looked out the car window, feeling somewhat dubious about the whole affair. “So these are your friends? Are they all military handlers like you? Dog trainers?”
“They’re trainers of various kinds,” he replied.
“So… cat trainers? Horse trainers?”
“Something like that,” he smiled.
“You’re not very good at hiding secrets,” Sarah informed him. “I know you have something up your sleeve. Something about this party isn’t quite right, is it?”
“It’s very right,” he replied. “But I admit, it is going to be a little bit of a surprise to you, I think. Nothing you can’t handle.”
“Is everyone there going to be a weirdo? Because you know I love weirdos.”
“Nobody will be so weird as to mistake a dog for a purse,” Austin said.
“So you’re taking me to a party full of odd straight-edged people. They’re the weirdest of all. People who are weird, but don’t know it.”
“Is that right?” Austin seemed amused by her musings.
“It is,” Sarah said. “It’s very correct.” She was nervous. The weight of the collar on her neck was not significant, but it was a constant reminder of her carnal relationship with Austin, a relationship that was now displayed boldly for all to see.
They came to a stop outside a very nice house in a very nice suburb, the sort of place that would be used in real estate commercials, or life insurance, or incontinence, with white-teethed people with perfect hair running around in sprinklers and such. There was even a sprinkler operating when they arrived, watering a perfectly sown lawn where not so much as a dandelion dared rear its head.
Sarah’s first reaction was to instinctively recoil. The sorts of people who lived in homes like these were not her sorts of people. They were the sorts of people who looked at her art, frowned ever so slightly out of a sense of consternation, and went and purchased something that looked like something recognizable. A nice picture of a chair to hang above their chair, perhaps.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Sarah said, her hand going to her neck so she could touch the tag with her and Austin’s names on it.
“You’re going to enjoy yourself,” he said reassuringly. “I promise. Let’s go in.”
He took her hand and they walked up the path on which no tendril of moss dared grow. Sarah’s sense of foreboding rose as they got to the front door. She couldn’t hear anything inside, none of the usual sound she would have associated with a party. There was no drumming, no singing, not a whiff of incense to be scented.
Austin knocked on the door. It was opened promptly by a very nice-looking man wearing a tidy cable-knit argyle sweater, pressed pants, and shined leather shoes. He was not as tall as Austin, but he was taller than Sarah. His hair was brown and cut in a floppy but professional style, sort of swept over toward his left ear. He was older than both she and Austin; Sarah had him picked as being in his early fifties judging by the way his hair was graying at the temples, salt mixing with bland pepper through the strands. His face was one of those faces that one forgets to remember and remembers to forget, or at least it seemed that way to Sarah, who was struck with the odd feeling that she’d met this man before in some incarnation or other.
His eyes were slightly narrowed and slightly angled downward at the outer edges, intelligent but more than that too. Something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked at each of his features; his mouth was slightly thin, his chin slightly pointed, his cheekbones high. He seemed like an intellectual, but not just an intellectual… why was he making alarm bells ring deep in the recesses of her memory? And why was he dressed like a catalog model for a preppy website stocking clothes for the modern professional?
Sarah cast a quick glance over at Austin. It was at that moment she realized Austin was dressed fairly similarly. Strange how she judged strangers for superficial qualities that she appreciated in someone she cared about.
“Robert,” Austin said. “This is Sarah.”
“Hello, Sarah, please, come in.”
The interior of the house was tastefully decorated, more eclectically than Sarah would have expected. There were small soapstone statues depicting Greek mythology, and several modern paintings that also took their roots from history. Not Sarah’s style at all, but hauntingly beautiful. The painting hanging at the back of the foyer took her attention immediately. It was a naked woman, plump after the style of Rubens. She was sitting by a stream with a half-smile on her face, her long dark hair swept to the side to reveal a collar of gold about her neck.
Robert saw her looking at it. “Do you like this piece?”
“I love it,” Sarah breathed. “I mean… the depth, the texture…” She failed to mention the subject, but that was what drew her most. The woman in the painting exuded calm, grace, and contentment, even though she was quite clearly owned in some way.
Austin’s arm looped around her waist. “Let’s go and meet the others.”
The moment Sarah entered the lounge she knew she was not attending any normal party. Some of the guests were sitting on the couches as might be expected, but others were curled up on the floor. And several were attached to one another by merit of leashes clipped to their collars.
Sarah stopped dead and stared in a way that was probably quite rude, but that she could not help at all.
“Everyone, you know Austin, of course,” Robert said, coming around them to make the necessary introductions. “And this is Sarah.”
“Hello, Sarah,” a series of voices responded. Sarah was still trying to take everything in. There didn’t seem to be any particular gender bias to things. One young man was sitting on a cushion on the floor between the thighs of a very beautiful woman with raven hair and long red fingernails who was gently scratching them across his scalp. Next to them a man was sitting with a woman, though she was curled up next to him on the sofa, her leash firmly wrapped around his hand.
On the other side of the room, two women were kneeling on the floor on either side of a very tall man with sideburns that were almost their own entities. He looked rather severe and Sarah avoided meeting his gaze.
“My wife,” Robert said as a pretty woman entered with a drink in her hand. She was wearing a gorgeous silver sheath dress and brilliant diamond earrings. She could have been the wife of a president, if perhaps not for the fact that she was also wearing a very thick black leather collar around her neck. It was trimmed with lace, which softened it just a little, but it was certainly the most striking element of her outfit in spite of the sparkling taking place above and below it. “Anastasia, this is Sarah.”
“Hello,” Sarah said politely. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Anastasia said. “Austin has told us all about you; he says you’re an artist.”
“Yes,” Sarah agreed. She was an artist. An artist wearing a collar in a room full of other people some of whom were also wearing collars, all of whom apparently subscribed to the same notions Austin did, notions that were still somewhat new to her.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Please,” Sarah agreed. “The stiffer, the better.”
“Would you like it in a glass or a bowl?”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Uh… a glass.”
Anastasia smiled. “That’s just a little joke. We save the bowls for dinnertime.”
“Oh…”
“Another joke.”
Anastasia smiled more broadly. “Oh, you’re sweet,” she said. “Come to the kitchen with me and we’ll find you something.”
Sarah glanced at Austin, then nodded. She was not so much nervous as she was intrigued and a little off guard. She had seen many strange things in her time. Stranger, even. But this she had not expected. She had expected a pleasant if somewhat bland evening, but that was clearly not going to be the case.
Anastasia led Sarah into a frankly cavernous kitchen and to a wet bar that was stocked beyond any expectation.
“This is your first time anywhere like this,” she said.
“In a kitchen, no,” Sarah deadpanned. “I have one of my own.”
Anastasia smiled. “I mean a party like this, but you knew that.”
“You mean with the collars and such? It’s a first,” Sarah said. “I’m so glad I didn’t forget mine.” Her fingers went to the little tag at her neck. “Imagine how embarrassing that would have been.”
“It’s okay, we have spares for anyone who forgot,” Anastasia played along with the joke.
Sarah smiled. She liked Anastasia. The woman was obviously smart, witty, and accomplished.
“So what can I get you to drink?”
“There are bars with fewer choices than you have here,” Sarah noted.
“I’ll make you my special drink,” she said. “I call it a B n’ H.”
Sarah took a sip, discovering that the drink was tangy and a little bit spicy and had a kick that made Sarah’s eyes water for a moment. “Wow,” she said. “That’s good. I mean, that’s really good.”
“I make it for Robert sometimes when he’s had a really hard day.”
“What does Robert do?”
“He’s a judge,” Anastasia explained. “I’m a barrister. I used to come up before him a lot.”
“But you don’t now?”
“Nowadays I go down more than I come up,” Anastasia joked with an exaggerated wink.
Sarah let out a laugh.
At that moment, they were interrupted by the arrival of Austin.
“What are you two ladies getting up to in here?” Austin made the inquiry with a particularly pointed look at Anastasia.
“I’m just helping Sarah settle in,” Anastasia said. “You didn’t tell her what she was in for, did you? Shame on you!”
“I knew she’d adapt,” Austin replied with a devilish little grin. “I thought it would be an interesting surprise.”
“Oh, so that’s what we are to you, hmm? An interesting surprise?” Anastasia was teasing, her eyes flirtatious. Sarah didn’t mind. Anastasia struck her as the sort of woman who probably flirted with most men.
Austin slid his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “I’d hoped you’d be a good example, but I’m not sure of that anymore.”
“Is there a problem in here?”
Robert had followed him in. Sarah looked at him properly for the first time and saw a borderline handsome, perfectly charming face, dependable, responsible, trustworthy… and familiar.
“Oh, my…” She murmured the words under her breath.
“What?”
“We’ve met before,” Sarah said, speaking to Robert while pressing closer to Austin. “You probably don’t remember me.”
“I meet so many people,” Robert said apologetically. “I can’t imagine I’d forget you, but I’m afraid I don’t quite…”
“I was dressed like a bush when we met,” Sarah interjected.
Light dawned behind Robert’s eyes. “You were one of the young ladies determined to save a tree, as I recall. Arrested for causing a disturbance on private property.”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “That was us.”
“It’s coming back to me now,” Robert nodded. “You did three days, didn’t you. Contempt of court.”
“That was what you thought it was,” Sarah agreed, biting her lip so as not to smile at the memory. It was three years hence, but the scene in the courtroom had in many respects been her finest hour. “I didn’t think a demonstration of photosynthesis constitutes contempt.”
“A half an hour interpretive dance of photosynthesis that prevented other cases from being heard did. You didn’t stop even when the bailiffs intervened, as I recall.”
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 t
o 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.
