‘What did you have to do?’ asked Jasper, with that slightly cruel glint in his eye he sometimes got. He knew the question would be uncomfortable for Rosie to answer, and that was why he was asking.
‘Well … I’m sure you can imagine …’ she said.
Dimitri came to her rescue.
‘I had to spank her,’ he said. ‘Over my knee. Rosie was fantastic, amazing. She was so brave. Of course, I find out later that she likes it.’
Jasper laughed and looked into the neck of the empty red wine bottle.
‘Good God, is this gone already? I’ll get another.’
When he returned, Rosie resumed the story.
‘So, we were in,’ she said. ‘And that meant we had to get the dynamic right before we were rumbled. So Dimitri and I used to meet once a week for … well …’
‘Good times,’ he said with a sly and devastatingly sexy grin. ‘And to me, it looks like we are lovers, OK? I kind of get that idea. It is happening. But Rosie is a little bit insecure and she starts to think I am more interested in Trix.’
‘I don’t know … it was just all so strange,’ said Rosie. ‘It was hard to know whether we were really lovers or it was just a product of what we were getting up to at those meetings … and I didn’t feel I had the right to exercise any kind of claim over him. I mean, if he wanted Trix, that was his prerogative. I wasn’t his girlfriend or anything. I was just the woman he met up with for kinky activities on a Saturday afternoon. And who happened to be hopelessly in love with him.’
‘And it is returned!’ exclaimed Dimitri, taking her hand and kissing it extravagantly. ‘But you know that now. All this misunderstanding – it works out in the end. Trix is just helping me with my career. And is a happy ever after. The end.’
He made a half-bow that ended with a long-armed reach for the red wine bottle.
‘That’s a lovely story,’ said Jasper. ‘It would make a great film for your friend, wouldn’t it?’ he said to Trix. ‘I’m fascinated by the bit where you spank her in Mal’s office when you’ve only just met. I’d love to film that myself. But I suppose I have enough on my plate just now.’
‘And Rosie, she doesn’t perform,’ said Dimitri. ‘Except for me, right?’ He laughed again and put an arm around her, pulling her closer so that she nearly tipped off her chair. Uh oh, I thought. He really needs to ease off that wine.
‘Except for you,’ she repeated, looking fondly into his eyes. ‘For God’s sake, Dimitri, don’t you think you’ve had enough?’
‘Do you think?’ He pressed his lips to Rosie’s and they snogged like crazy hormonal teenagers until I was so turned on I didn’t know where to look. ‘OK,’ he murmured, breaking off. ‘Only for you, I will drink water from now. Because I don’t want to disappoint you later.’
‘You never disappoint me.’ God, you just knew it was true. Wow.
I think Jasper could sense my illicit pleasure in their dynamic, because he leaned to whisper in my ear. ‘Somebody’s got big eyes.’
‘It’s just … interesting.’
‘Hmm. I’d say “exciting” was nearer the mark, hmm?’
I swallowed. I couldn’t deny it. Something about the way they were together fascinated me. It wasn’t anything to do with my own feelings for Jasper – they were completely unchanged. I was blissfully happy and fulfilled in our relationship. It was just … I don’t know. Just because you’ve written the perfect historical drama, it doesn’t mean you never want to read another.
But I didn’t want Jasper thinking I was desperate to get underneath Dimitri.
‘Like you say, it’s a great story,’ I said. ‘Trix, your glass is empty. Let me top you up.’
She laughed. ‘I’d rather you just topped me,’ she said. Oh, dear. Another one three sheets to the wind.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t know how. I’m not good at that side of things.’
‘I bet you’ve never tried it,’ she said. ‘I’ve done it now and again, but I’m wretchedly bad at it. I keep laughing at the vital moments.’
‘I think I would too.’
Dimitri and Rosie finally stopped fooling around and took some notice of the rest of us. They were bleary-eyed and flushed. They looked like sex on a plate. All of us had suddenly lost interest in the food.
‘So, go on then,’ drawled Rosie. Her lips were full and red, and not just from the wine. ‘How did you two work things out? Sarah?’
All eyes were upon me.
‘I came here to work, as you know,’ I said. ‘And one day I, uh, happened upon some of Jasper’s private collection.’
‘Private collection?’ Trix’s eyes lit up.
‘Jasper has the most amazing collection of historical and modern BDSM paraphernalia,’ I said. ‘Like I say, I stumbled across it …’
Jasper snorted.
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘All right, I was shown it by a third party. A man who used to work here. We thought Jasper was away filming, but while we were looking at it, Jasper just happened to …’
Rosie squealed. ‘Caught red-handed!’
‘I bet that wasn’t all that was red,’ said Trix. ‘You naughty girl.’
My stomach flipped with shame and arousal.
‘So, it was a bit like our story?’ said Rosie. ‘It all happened by accident?’
‘Oh, I don’t think it was any accident,’ I said, with an arch look at Jasper. ‘He knew exactly who he’d hired. He’d read an article I wrote about Victorian BDSM practices and implements.’
‘Oh, my! So he drew you in. It was all part of the plan.’
Rosie’s eyes questioned Jasper.
He shrugged and returned a tight smile.
‘Perhaps I had something like that in the back of my mind,’ he confessed. ‘I thought it was a chance worth taking.’
‘It paid off,’ said Trix.
‘Absolutely,’ said Jasper, and now it was his turn to snake an arm around my waist, bring his fingers up into my hair and tickle the sensitive area behind my ear. This never failed to produce a stunning effect, and he knew it.
My breathing was suddenly erratic.
He buried his face in my neck and kissed it.
It was quick, over in a moment, but I was so wet between my legs now that I feared for the seat of my Chippendale chair.
‘And when you found Jasper’s kinky stash,’ Rosie continued, ‘did you know that you would be kindred spirits?’
I bit my lip. ‘I guess it was something I had an interest in – I’d written that article, after all. But I’d never thought it would actually happen, in my real life. Jasper made it so easy for me, though. He just knew. All I had to do was trust him.’
‘Goodness, easier said than done,’ exclaimed Trix.
‘I know, but I can’t explain it … it was just easy.’
‘Love at first sight,’ suggested Rosie.
‘Maybe. Something like that.’
‘Trust is a funny thing, isn’t it?’ mused Trix. ‘I’m such an old hand now that I can almost read a new dom straight off. I know what to look out for, I suppose. My instincts have served me very well – it’s been years since I made a mistake on that front.’
‘Did you make a mistake?’ asked Rosie.
‘In my early days,’ she admitted. ‘But this was before Kinky Cupcake, before I was on any kind of scene. Just blundering through, trying to negotiate my sexuality without having much of a clue how to do it. My curiosity was several steps ahead of my common sense back then.’
‘What happened?’ Rosie put her wineglass to her mouth and a bit sloshed out and spilled down her top. ‘Shit.’
‘Nothing dramatic. Just a couple of guys I met through contact ads. Had to call the scenes off halfway through. Well, one was halfway through. The other was right at the beginning, when he produced the knife …’
‘Yikes,’ I said with feeling.
‘But it was partly my fault. We hadn’t talked about limits, and I should have insisted. I’ve been much more sensible
since then.’
‘And now you’re the belle of the BDSM ball,’ cried Rosie, flourishing her glass.
Trix laughed. ‘Sweet of you to say so.’ Her features settled into sobriety. ‘But I have to say … although I know in my heart that monogamy will never be for me, seeing people like you guys sometimes gets me right here.’ She put a hand to her chest. ‘What you have … well, I have to tell myself quite sternly that it’s not better than what I have. Just different. Seeing the way Dimitri looks at you, though … But I’m a free spirit, and always will be.’
‘To free spirits,’ said Dimitri, raising a glass then emptying it down his throat in one quick, rather uncoordinated move.
‘So,’ said Jasper, rising from the table to indicate that the meal – or rather the boozy blether – was over. ‘This website, Trix. Shall we move to the screening room and take a look? I’m very interested to see your work.’
‘Oh, sure,’ she said. ‘I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. I’ll pass them on to Persephone.’
In the screening room I shuffled up next to Rosie and Dimitri while Jasper and Trix messed about with computers at the back. Trix fed her password into the site and a big, bright, colourful screen came up with the Spanking Dreams logo and lots of tantalising photographs. Unlike so many of the fetish sites, it wasn’t wall-to-wall bare bums, displayed without much reference to aesthetics, but people dressed in various costumes, re-enacting different fantasies. The effect was alluring and made me want to explore.
‘So, this pirate film, then,’ said Jasper, and Trix scrolled down the page until she arrived at a still of a man with impressive flowing locks in a big shirt, brandishing not a cutlass but a flogger.
‘Here it is,’ said Trix. ‘Are we all sitting comfortably? Because my character won’t be.’ She laughed and clicked the “play” button.
Jasper came to sit beside me, keyboard on lap, while Trix perched herself on the other side of Dimitri. I heard his bangles rattle in the semi-darkness, then the film came to life.
A room had been decorated to look like the interior of a pirate vessel, with various props on display, although closer inspection revealed it to be someone’s garden shed with a velvet curtain over the window. Still, it had been cunningly and lovingly transformed and I was impressed. Most spanking films I’d seen paid little attention to detail and focused on the bare bones – or bottoms – of the scene.
Two piratical gentlemen strode on to the scene – the aforementioned owner of the flowing locks, followed by an older man with an eye patch and a silk scarf.
‘Stowaways, you say, Preece?’ said the hairy one – the Captain, I presumed.
‘Aye, sir, in the empty rum barrels in the hold.’
‘We’ll do what we always do with such vermin,’ said the Captain. ‘Have ’em walk the plank.’
‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ said Preece, but he hesitated instead of turning to carry out the order. ‘But before I do … I should mention that the pair of ’em are women.’
The Captain stared and tossed his mane of hair.
‘What’s that you say? Lasses aboard a vessel of mine?’
‘I fear so, Captain.’
‘Bring ’em up,’ he growled. ‘I’ll show these wenches what it means to cross Captain Jake Pegg.’
The scene ended, and the next one opened with the Captain seated behind a big old desk while a pair of women in white camisoles and petticoats stood before him, heads bowed. Preece lurked in the corner, holding a rather ominous-looking sack. One of the women, the fuller-figured one, was Trix.
We all turned to smile at her. She avoided our attention and stared straight ahead at the screen.
‘Strange cargo we’re carrying,’ remarked the Captain in opening. ‘I’ve had all kinds in my hold, but never wenches. What the devil do you think you’re about? Eh?’
Not-Trix dropped to her knees.
‘Please spare our lives, sir,’ she begged. ‘We are running away from unwelcome marriages and seek only to make new lives for ourselves in the colonies. We are willing to do anything you ask, if you will only let us sail to Barbados with you.’
‘And what do you think my crew will make of that?’ demanded the Captain. ‘Poor beggars don’t see a pretty piece of female flesh from one month to the next and now here it is, right in front of them. Didn’t you think of what might become of you?’
‘We hoped for your protection,’ she said, and the Captain laughed heartily.
‘My protection? You’ve heard of me? Or no?’
‘Your reputation is alarming, I’ll grant you,’ said Trix, still on her feet at this point. ‘But we judged the danger to be worth facing, in order to avoid the fates that awaited us at home.’
‘Bold wench, aren’t you?’ said the Captain softly. ‘I have a remedy for boldness in wenches.’
‘And I have spirit!’ declared Trix, and, from somewhere out of shot, she lunged to grab a long pointy sword, which she swiped about in front of the Captain while her companion screamed and hurried back into the corner with Preece.
The Captain swore a piratical oath – ‘God’s wounds,’ or some such – and leaped to his feet, pulling his own sword from its scabbard.
‘I had to take a fencing course before shooting this,’ said Trix.
She was quite impressive, jabbing and parrying away while the Captain circled her menacingly. It was pretty clear from the outset that the Captain would win but was granting her a chance to show off her prowess because it amused him.
In the meantime, Preece had one arm closed around the other woman, while she did that kind of bosom-heaving struggling so popular in this kind of movie.
The swords clashed properly at last, and the Captain got hold of Trix around her neck, forcing her to drop her weapon. She cried out in defeat and let herself be pressed close to the Captain’s chest, her eyes still defiant as she looked up at him.
‘I would my crew had more of your mettle, woman,’ said the Captain, his lips now close to hers. ‘But you know I can’t let this pass.’
‘What are you going to do to me?’ she asked.
‘Preece,’ said the Captain in reply. ‘The bag.’
Preece stepped forward and handed the sack to the Captain.
He released Trix from his grasp, taking care to remove her sword first and put it beyond reach, and stepped back beside his desk.
‘The pair of you,’ he ordered. ‘Get those petticoats off.’
Trix and her friend made big, frightened eyes at each other, but both untied their drawstrings and let the cotton skirts fall to their feet, revealing linen knickerbockers and white silk stockings.
‘Do you mean to deprive us of our honour?’ asked Trix’s friend.
‘No, at least, not yet,’ replied the Captain uncompromisingly. ‘But I mean to deprive you of your dignity, and your rebellious spirit. Over the desk with you both.’
There could be but few purposes for a stance of this nature, and the wenches seemed to realise this, giving each other panicky glances and standing rooted where they were.
The Captain clarified matters by drawing a pair of floggers from the sack and passing one to Preece. He ran his fingers through the leather strands of the other.
‘You mean to flog us?’ blurted Trix.
‘I think I do. Now didn’t I give an order? Or will you add to what you’re about to get?’
They scurried over to the desk and arranged themselves as required, elbows on the wooden surface, backs low, bums out. The linen drawers were slit from the crotch upwards and they slid apart like curtains, revealing two round plump bare bottoms, ready for whipping.
Trix put her hand over her friend’s in support and they wound their fingers tightly together, both gritting teeth ready for the ordeal. Another camera picked up their faces and the scene cut from their agonised expressions to the rear view for the rest of the film.
The Captain and Preece commenced the flogging with slow, steady strokes. It was a little odd, perhaps even a little uncomfo
rtable, to watch Trix taking her punishment while she sat so close to us. She certainly had a lovely arse for it, though, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her trembling hips and slowly reddening buttocks as the Captain took his time to make sure she felt every ounce of sting.
For someone as seasoned as Trix, though, a flogging with a little leather thing like that would be nothing special.
‘She hasn’t even made a squeak yet,’ said the Captain in disgust. ‘Preece – the straps.’
Preece reached inside the bag and brought out two sturdy lengths of thick leather.
The strapping was quicker and harder than the flogging, the implements making very satisfying cracking sounds as they landed on the unfortunate bottoms. Trix’s friend was soon in difficulties, squirming and moaning as Preece laid on the strokes. The Captain worked Trix more vigorously still, but she gritted her teeth and kept silent, implying that it was a matter of pride not to show weakness.
Their behinds and upper thighs were soon a deep sunset red.
Tears were visible in the other woman’s eyes and they rolled down her cheeks while she gasped and pleaded for mercy.
The Captain laid his strap aside, the signal for Preece to do the same.
‘She’s had enough,’ he said to Preece. ‘Put her in the corner with her hands on her head – but facing out. I want her to watch what her friend still has to come.’
There was the faintest of mewls from Trix, suggesting that this was not a popular plan, but she said no more, concentrating on regaining her breath while her friend was removed from the scene of the ongoing punishment.
‘Now, my lady,’ said the Captain ominously. ‘What will it take to break you, I wonder?’
‘Do your worst,’ muttered Trix, and the Captain laughed.
‘Ah, that I certainly shall. Let’s see …’
He upended the sack, and a flat wooden paddle fell out on to the desk.
‘This’ll test you,’ he said. ‘But let’s have you over my knee for it.’
He pulled out the desk chair and made Trix take her place on his lap. She protested at first, but he drove her onward with several smart smacks of the paddle and she soon complied, though not without many a cry of pain.
Her World of Submission Page 7
