The Collectors

by Gowan, Lesley

  Soon, the women were walking toward the wide staircase near the entryway to head down to the dungeon. Jeanne held me back until everyone was gone. I was back sitting at the foot of her chair.

  “Do you have any questions?” she asked.

  “I have a million questions. How many can I ask?”

  “One.”

  I thought for a moment, but there was only one pressing question.

  “Do I have to do whatever a dominant says, even if I don’t like her?”

  “Yes. Most especially then.”

  I resigned myself to some unpleasantness with Kevin. I had no doubt she would put me through something that pleased her a lot and me not at all. And if Heather forbade Kevin from approaching me, I thought Kevin would send in Murphy as her proxy. As these thoughts danced around in my head, Jeanne sat quietly.

  “Is there someone in particular you don’t like?” she asked after a bit.

  “It’s Kevin. I’m a little afraid of her.”

  “Why?”

  If I bring up Heather, I bring up Adele.

  “I don’t think Kevin likes me, and since she’s the one holding the whip, so to speak, it makes me nervous.”

  Jeanne sighed. “It seems we had a similar conversation in Paris, only there you thought you would be in danger simply because the dominants were French.”

  “No, I—“

  “Quiet.” Jeanne took hold of my collar and turned my face to look up at me. “Are you saying you don’t want to participate this evening?”

  “No, not at all. This is completely different.”

  “It sounds like you are declining to do as I wish, once again, out of an unfounded fear, maybe a ruse for you to get your own way. It’s clear you have no interest in being submissive to me. This is not a gray area, Laura. You aren’t submissive sometimes and not others—not at your own discretion, anyway.”

  I could see Jeanne’s frown, etched deeply in her forehead and around the corners of her mouth. I felt nearly panicked.

  “I want to go down there with you. I’ll do everything you want me to do.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Jeanne was now unbuckling the collar. “You can go back to the west wing and stay there until I arrange for you to be sent home.” She stood and walked away from the table. My neck felt naked and vulnerable.

  “Jeanne, please. Wait.” I scrambled to my feet and ran to her. “There’s something about this situation you don’t know. It’s not like Paris at all.”

  She stopped. “You’ve kept something from me, in other words?”

  “Technically, no. You said once you didn’t want to know anything about submissives squabbling over you, though the definition of squabbling is a little fuzzy.”

  “Just tell me what you’re talking about.”

  I took her arm and dragged her back to the dining table. I sat in a chair next to her.

  “The reason I’m fearful of Kevin is because of her relationship with Heather, and I’m afraid of Heather because of her friendship with Adele.”

  “Adele?”

  “You told me we weren’t to talk about Adele, so I didn’t tell you when she threatened me on campus one day, or when she sent me a threatening drawing.”

  “I saw the drawing. Pat brought it to me.”

  “Just prior to that she saw me on campus and told me to stay away from you. When we arrived home from Paris I found my apartment trashed and my collection of lesbian BDSM completely ruined. There was paint thrown over it. I’m sure it was Adele.”

  Jeanne looked stunned, but she didn’t say anything. She got up and walked back to the window, staring out at the black lake and sky.

  “I probably wouldn’t have told you anything,” I said, “but since I first met Heather, it’s obvious she hates me and I’ve learned she and Adele are best friends. I’m sure Adele has poisoned Heather and Kevin against me. That’s why I didn’t want to submit to Kevin.”

  She turned to look at me. She looked stricken.

  “I have failed you,” she said. “I should have followed up after Pat gave me that stupid drawing of you stabbing Adele in the back, but I thought it was just a childish act on Adele’s part. I’d grown a little tired of Adele, frankly, and used the drawing as the pretext for sending her away.”

  “Was she a member of the Society?”

  “Yes, but I exiled her after the drawing incident.”

  “You can do that?”

  Jeanne looked at me as if I were questioning her abilities. “Of course. If someone breaks the rules, their sponsor can unilaterally revoke their membership.”

  Jeanne took my hands into hers. “I never imagined Adele would actually be dangerous, but I think we have to take her seriously if she, in fact, did trash your apartment. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

  “Is that your job, to keep me safe?”

  “If you have put your trust in me, as you have so many times now, you need to trust I will protect you. I am so sorry I’ve not done that.”

  She was so sincere I felt like crying. I loved being a damsel in distress, as silly as it seemed. I hoped Snidely Whiplash would burst through the door so they could fight over me.

  “I feel completely safe with you. I trust you, and I don’t expect you to know things you can’t know. But what do you think about Kevin and Heather?”

  “I don’t know. I think we should go down and keep an eye on them. Are you ready?”

  We went downstairs arm in arm.

  This was the first dungeon I’d seen in person. My Internet searches had been extensive, so I’d seen the variety within the fairly narrow scope of possibilities. Short of recreating a medieval version with dripping walls and stained flooring, a dungeon was just a basement version of Jeanne’s fully equipped playroom on the second floor of her house. As we reached the bottom of the stairs a short hallway brought us into a large room already teeming with activity. It was twice the size of the room in the city house with twice the equipment. A sling was only one of the many things hanging from the ceiling—slings, swings, chains, ropes, pulleys. On the walls were fixtures where submissives could be chained up in countless configurations. Benches, crosses, frames, and horses were placed in different areas of the room, and a good number of them were occupied. Jeanne held me close by the collar as we took a seat on a sofa near the bar area of the room. Unbelievably, Mrs. Kirchberger was tending bar. Did this woman never get a moment off? I vowed to bring this up with Jeanne when next I was allowed to ask a question. Mrs. K. poured us some wine.

  Straight in front of us was Denise strapped to a bench about to be spanked with a wooden paddle by one of the older doms in the group, a gray-haired, stunningly beautiful woman. She had several paddles to choose from arrayed on Denise’s back. When she saw us sit, she brandished one of the paddles.

  “What do you think, Jeanne? The traditional wooden?” She picked up another. “Or the leather studded one?”

  Denise did not crane her neck around to see what was being discussed, but kept her eyes to the floor. I found that impressive.

  “I think you know which one you want to use,” Jeanne said.

  The woman grinned. “You’re right.” She tossed the wooden paddle aside and stepped behind Denise. She spent a few minutes rubbing Denise’s ass, moving down and up her thighs, reaching under and feeling her sex. Denise expelled a breath and Terry dried her wet finger on Denise’s flank. Then she stepped back and brought the paddle down, the slap loud in the already noisy room. There seemed to be a slight hesitation, almost like the delay in a sonic boom, and then Denise cried out as the sting of the blow caught up to her. From then on I would be hard-pressed to match her cries to Terry’s blows. They both came rapidly and were soon all mixed up together. Welts in the form of dots and lines appeared all over Denise’s ass, and soon Terry stopped to give her a break. She soothed her ass cheeks with her hand, checked on the state of Denise’s excitement (she was dripping), and started up again. I was mesmerized.

  Jeanne suddenly took my co
llar and pulled me down to my knees, between her legs. I was surprised to see her yank her pants off and pull my head to her, surprised she wanted relief so early in the evening. My experience with her so far, with a few notable exceptions, was she built up excitement for quite a long while before allowing herself an orgasm. I dove eagerly in, for going down on Jeanne was my greatest pleasure, my strongest connection to her. I could feel every need of hers in the tip of my tongue. It was as simple as feeling the most powerful person in your life become the most vulnerable.

  I took my time and tried to give her the most pleasure I could, but soon she wouldn’t wait. I was drenched by her wetness and her thighs were trembling. She gripped my head to her as she moved to meet my tongue, to simply use my tongue, and when she came she sounded like she was swallowing a scream. She held my head against her thigh as we caught our breath. I felt as if we were alone in the room, but when I opened my eyes I saw Heather about fifteen feet away from me. She was on her hands and knees being fucked by one of the doms, and she was staring straight at me. If you just looked at her face you wouldn’t know she was being vigorously rogered by a very muscular looking dominant. Her face was set in an expression I can only describe as hate. It was unsettling. I looked up at Jeanne to call her attention to it, but Heather was in full submissive mode a moment later, her eyes facing the floor.

  I was moving back onto the sofa when Kevin came up to us. I glanced back at Heather and she saw Kevin approach me. She was still getting it from behind and not free to meddle.

  “Jeanne,” Kevin said.

  “Kevin.”

  “I’d like some time with your lady.”

  I felt a little sick. I saw a cane hanging from Kevin’s belt, and Kevin had the singular ability to make the things that excite me seem frightening. I moved a little closer to Jeanne.

  “I’m sorry, Kevin. I’ve promised Laura to Pat next. We’re just waiting for her to finish up.”

  All of us looked across the room where Pat had a woman stretched out against the wall, chained at the ankles and wrists. She was putting clamps on her nipples and had a pile of equipment at her feet. It looked like she was just getting started. Kevin turned back to Jeanne.

  “I’d say there’s plenty of time. I’ll be quick.”

  I tried to hide the shudder down my spine.

  “I’m sorry. There’s really not. I’d like to keep company with Laura until Pat is ready for her. But thank you for asking for her. I appreciate your interest.”

  Kevin stared at her for a bit before turning and walking away. Jeanne held a neutral look on her face, as if she and Kevin had just set a date for tennis. She pushed me down to the floor again so I’d be kneeling at her feet. I glanced over at Heather on my way down and saw her looking over to Kevin, slightly exasperated. Now my guess was she’d instructed Kevin to give me the tanning of my life, and once again Kevin had failed her. I almost felt sorry for Kevin.

  Jeanne managed our movements over the rest of the evening so it seemed she was generously sharing me, but I was never far from her side. We had a three-way with the other new girl, which was delicious. When Pat was finally free, Jeanne handed me over to her and watched as Pat put me in the sling and gave me a long, slow fucking. Pat had smoldering eyes and a very earnest approach. If Jeanne didn’t have such a powerful effect on me I could become very attached to Pat. And I sensed the feeling was mutual.

  When Jeanne saw Kevin was occupied with someone else and wouldn’t try to interrupt, she gave Murphy her chance to make me scream. She accomplished this quite handily by caning me fore and aft while I hung straight up and down from a hook in the ceiling. Even though Murphy seemed to be a friend of Kevin’s, I was able to disassociate them while I hung there, finding myself slipping into a feeling of acceptance and excitement, the one following the other, over and over as the cane made thin stripes on my skin. I was trying to be quiet, but it’s impossible with the cane. I don’t think it can be done. And I don’t think it should be. As I cried out I felt yet another level of freedom and thought I must be a beautiful sight. I understood the riveted looks on the faces around me, especially Jeanne’s. I wondered at the change that had overtaken me in such a short time, the journey from shame over who I am to whatever this feeling was—pride, freedom, love.

  When Murphy took me down and handed me back, Jeanne excused us for the evening and we went up to her suite on the top floor of the house. We sat by a fire in the sitting room that was cheerfully ablaze when we entered, courtesy of Mrs. Kirchberger, no doubt.

  “Thank you for staying close,” I said. I was sitting next to her on the sofa, leaning against her. “I know there were other things you might have been doing if you weren’t watching over me.”

  Jeanne had her arm around me, but she was staring into the fire.

  “I don’t care about that.”

  She did care about something. The furrow on her brow was deep, a tip off to me she was unhappy. She moved over to the fire and started poking at it.

  “There’s something going on in the group, and I wouldn’t have even noticed it had you not told me about Kevin and Heather.”

  “And Adele.”

  “Especially Adele. But Adele was asked to leave the group. She should not be a consideration at all regarding what goes on here during a society meeting. That she exercises some influence on present members concerns me.”

  I sat quietly and watched Jeanne mull things over. I’d hardly presume to understand how things normally worked among this group of people. I did know, though, there is inevitable conflict within any group.

  “I’m not naïve,” Jeanne said. “I know not all of the doms are crazy about my leadership. But I hadn’t sensed any organized dissention before this.”

  “I don’t think Kevin and Heather rises to the level of dissension, does it?”

  “It’s more than just Kevin among the doms. I could see the various conversations taking place tonight. Doms putting their heads together and nodding in agreement, as if the time had come to storm the Bastille.”

  I didn’t dare respond. I figured she was just thinking out loud.

  “Do I sound paranoid?” She returned to my side. “I’ve always been the head of this organization. It’s never occurred to me I wouldn’t be.”

  “Try not to worry about it tonight. Why don’t we just go to sleep and let the thoughts and feelings settle a bit? You’ll feel better.”

  I was running my fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to soothe her. She turned her eyes upon me and I could see the fire in them. In a flash she flipped me over so I was facedown, on my knees. My robe was an easy thing to get rid of. She spread my legs as far apart as she could and pushed my face down into a pillow, holding it there.

  “I’ll feel better when I decide to feel better. Do you understand that?”

  I tried to nod, but she had a firm hold on my head. With her other hand she began slapping my ass, which was plenty sore from the caning I’d gotten not an hour earlier.

  “I don’t need a sub to tell me about my ‘feelings.’”

  Slap.

  “Or to help me assess the politics in my organization.”

  Slap.

  “Or to make me feel guilty.”

  Slap.

  Her hand found my pussy, feeling inside for moisture and finding plenty of it there. She got her fingers slicked up and then started to work two of them into my ass. Despite all of her efforts over the previous weeks to stretch my opening through long hours of dildo wearing, the feeling was still uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and profoundly exciting. She fucked me for a long time, and not particularly gently.

  “You won’t forget who’s in charge, will you?”

  “No.”

  “Or who you will be pledged to obey, absolutely?”

  “I will not forget, even for a moment.”

  We rocked together for what seemed an eternity, until finally she pulled out and flipped me over again, onto my back, and straddled my face, pushing her wet pussy ont
o my tongue, riding me to a quick and furious orgasm.

  I lay under her, exhausted and a bit cautious. Jeanne got off me and walked toward the bedroom.

  “I’m going to sleep,” she said. “You can join me if you want to.”

  I did, but nothing more was said between us. I slept like a stone.

  Chapter Eight—The Vote

  Jeanne was gone from her rooms when I woke up the following morning. My body was sore from the caning, the spanking, the ass fucking, the various contortions it had been tied into. I slipped on a T-shirt and went into the sitting room. There was a thermos of coffee and a plate of rolls on the coffee table. As I picked up the thermos I saw a note from Jeanne.

  Off to take care of business today, may not see you before the evening’s events. Stay close to the house. Call Pat with any questions/concerns.

  I had no idea what she meant by business, but I was fine with the idea of spending the day in her comfortable rooms, soaking in a tub, napping, and maybe, just for the novelty of it, doing some work on my dissertation. I was growing seriously behind schedule. When I grew restless mid-afternoon, I went down to the beach, thinking a brisk walk would feel good. But it was cold and windy and spitting rain. I came right back up and pulled the covers over my head.

  At four, I went to the west wing for the pre-evening rituals with my fellow subs, only to find the spa empty except for Veronica and Nan, the other initiate. They were drinking tea in the kitchen area.