The Collectors (18 page)

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 onto 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.

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.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“It’s just the two of you here with me,” Veronica said. “The other women will get ready in their rooms. Tonight’s all about the women being initiated. The doms won’t be touching anyone else until after the ceremony.”

Nan and I exchanged looks. I could tell she was tired from last night too. I suppose that’s why it was called an initiation. It was some kind of test of endurance.

There was nothing different about our preparations from the night before, and soon we were made up, robed, clean as a whistle and sitting around waiting for our escorts. The doms that sponsor us were to pick us up at six and escort us in for the cocktail hour. Jeanne was prompt and I took her arm as we walked the long hallway from the west wing.

“Did you have a busy day?” I asked.

“I would call it productive. But we have other things to talk about right now. Tonight, you will be given an oath to swear to, and I want to explain it to you so you have time to think about it.”

“But not too much time.”

Jeanne looked at me.

“I mean, I’m going to be taking an oath in an hour or so and you’re telling me what I’ll be swearing to now. That’s not much time.”

“Do you have some doubts on the matter?”

“No. I’m just observing. Never mind.” This wasn’t how I meant to start out our evening. I got into trouble every time I was on my way into a group setting with Jeanne.

“The oath states you will honor the confidentiality of the Society’s membership, you will never speak of its procedures and practices to anyone not a member of the Society, you will treat all members with respect and courtesy, and in the case of your interaction with dominants, you will obey them when you are asked to do something. By swearing the oath, you are granting your consent and placing your trust in the dominants of this Society. To your sponsoring dominant you will swear absolute loyalty and obedience. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Is any of that problematic?”

“No, not at all.”

We were at the door to the main gathering room and it looked like most everyone had arrived. Heads turned our way, and the feeling wasn’t completely one of welcome. Denise and Pat and many others I’d started to feel a friendship with acted genuinely glad to see me arrive with Jeanne. But there were others, Kevin and Heather first among them, who seemed to release a toxin in the air when we walked in the room. It wasn’t the best atmosphere for a newcomer on her initiation night, but I didn’t dare bring up my caution with Jeanne. Before we started to mingle with others, Jeanne leaned in and spoke softly in my ear.

“I’ll be watching after you tonight. Don’t worry about anything. But try to endure what you can. The initiation is meant to be intense. You might mistake it with something else, some ill intent from a member. It won’t be. Initiation can feel like punishment. But then, you have an extraordinary liking for punishment. It probably won’t make you think twice.”

If this was meant to be comforting, Jeanne had fallen short. But I had to trust her. I’d trusted her so far.

As we waded into the room I saw the other submissives were wearing dresses and heels, and that Nan and I were the only ones in robes. And it wasn’t just the doms who were reaching in our robes to take a breast or butt cheek in hand. The submissives seemed to get a real kick out of it, and it had the disarming effect of making me feel more like an object than when the doms helped themselves. I was hoping to make the emotional slip into my sub space, the state of mind where feeling humble would be a step up. Where the ego is completely dissolved and the only feeling left is sensation. Where I found the deepest relaxation possible, the deepest peace. But that journey seemed to be longer than usual.

At the dinner table there was a lot of talk about the delicious meal, but for Nan and me  it was an hour of crawling around at the end of a short leash held by a submissive. Occasionally, a dom would ask us to stop and then I would be fed a tidbit from a plate, sometimes having to take the food off the plate with my mouth. I didn’t take much notice of how it tasted. Other times, I would be stopped and a dom would check out the state of my pussy, which was wet despite my nervousness. I think even the other submissives were impressed.

As dinner came to a close, I found myself kneeling next to Jeanne’s chair at the head of the table. She rose to speak.

“If everyone’s ready, we will excuse the submissives and begin our vote on the membership for Laura and Nan. You’ve all gotten a chance to get to know them over the weekend, so you know how privileged we are they’ve agreed to apply for membership. They will be, in my opinion, wonderful additions to our organization. Ladies, if you’ll take yourselves back to the west wing, we’ll send someone in to get you when the voting is completed.”

The submissives moved as one out of the dining room and back to our headquarters in the west wing. As we sat in the living room waiting, the women teased Nan and I about what we had in store for us that night.

“Don’t plan on walking much tomorrow,” one said.

“No, walking and sitting are going to be a little difficult,” said another.

“If I’m not walking and I’m not sitting, what am I supposed to be doing with myself?” Nan asked.

“Kneeling?” Denise said, and everyone roared. It was kind of funny, but not that funny. Still, I appreciated it was good-natured. I could feel Heather’s stare on me, and I started to wonder what her problem was. Was she so devoted to Adele as a friend she was willing to focus her venom on me this whole weekend? There had to be more to it than that. I walked across the room and sat next to her. She looked surprised.

“What can I do to make things a little easier between us?” I said. I took a conflict resolution class as an undergraduate, but this opening line was about all I remembered from it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. She was staring at her hands.

“Really? Ever since you first saw me you’ve been shooting daggers at me. I guess because you’re friends with Adele and she’s been asked to leave the Society by Jeanne, who is the one bringing me in. I get that.”

“You don’t get shit.” She was looking right at me.

“Am I wrong? Is there some other reason you’ve been so nasty?”

“Nasty is as nasty does. Bitch.”

I felt for a second as if I’d been transported to the
Jerry Springer Show
and was about to be thrown down by my baby daddy’s girlfriend. I didn’t understand Heather, and I was starting to get pissed off.

“Okay. I’m going to walk away before we start rolling around on the floor scratching each other’s eyes out. I sure don’t get what I’ve done to you, but you’re going to have to get over it. I’m going to be around.”