Chapter 25: "I Knew It," She Whispered

Angique looked down on what seemed like a nest of snakes. They were narrow straps, braided into a harness. The sturdy leather had been waxed and polished. There were gleaming steel eyelets, buckles, studs and rings — big round ones that connected the straps; well-worn D-rings that suggested limitless applications. Before laying the harness out on the rug, Angique had taken it to her face, inhaling the leather's arousing age-old scent. Then she rubbed it with her thumbs, kissing it, remembering...

"How I envy you, Anna," she murmured, letting her eyes roam from the wide collar at the top, down to the bundle of straps that begged to be filled out with naked flesh. She picked up one of the cuffs, testing its buckled strap before putting it down again. Her fingers caressed the lovely lace tops of sheer black nylons, and the curved instep of patent leather, high-heeled sandals.

"Everything is ready for you, lil Anna," she whispered. "But are you?" As if to answer her question, the door opened and Anna crept in on all fours, naked. Her hair had been tied into a ponytail; her copper skin shone with oil.

"You are right on time, honey," Angique said, smiling. She stepped aside to show the girl her wardrobe. "Let's get you into this."

It was still early evening, but the Salon was as busy as any weekend night. Most women were drinking and talking around the bar, but some were already dancing to canned music on an improvised dance floor.

Most of the unavoidable Clan sat in a corner adjoining it. Aura, dressed in shocking pink and white ruffles, was in the lap of an austere, black suited Lee. They whispered, hardly noticing the world around them. BB, wearing a silk blouse and a very tight skirt had brought a young, new girl. The child mostly blushed and giggled. Bridgette, athletic and blond, did her best to ignore an already tipsy Alicia who tried to kiss her at any opportunity. The long-legged Tara was there, seemingly alone. Gina was on the dance floor with an elegant, petite Thai girl.

Suddenly the music stopped, making eyes turn to the entrance of the Salon. In the hush Gina's voice resounded.

"Dear God, no! Not again!"

From the entrance approached a crouching, naked creature. She crawled on hands and knees, her body shining in the warm, low candlelight. It was wrapped in a labyrinth of leather straps. Rings and chains dangled from it, as did her free-swinging tits. Each time one knee slid in front of the other, a veritable carillon of tiny bells chimed. Her muscles rolled with ease; her high naked ass cheeks churned and dripped with oily highlights. There were gasps and little cries of amazement as some of the guests recognized the crawling woman.

"Anna," they hissed, their hands in front of their mouths. "My God, it is Anna. What on earth is she doing?"

The name ran through their ranks, sometimes accompanied by a short explanation for the few who didn't know her. Anna had never been a frequent visitor of the Salon, but she often lounged at the poolside or the wet bar which were also part of the Club, and open to men. Anna had a longtime reputation of being a dominant, self-assured businesswoman. She was well respected and known to be a morally impeccable wife and mother. She of course had her flings. What would be the point of visiting the Club if you hadn't? But she was always extremely discreet about them, condemning anyone who blatantly flaunted their affairs, calling them sluts.

No one would even in their wildest dreams have imagined her like this. Not Anna, surely not her?

But here she was, crawling naked. She dragged her oiled tits across the shining floor, shaking her ass to the score of merry chimes and ringing chains. Her wrists had been cuffed in leather, as had her ankles — whorish platform heels squeezed her feet. And from her collared throat hung a leather leash that ran between her knees to slither behind her.

The throng of women parted before her — staring, gasping. They were torn between disgust and intrigue, but totally spellbound either way. In passing, Anna's body issued a shameless cloud of whorish perfume. It was spiked with the musk of her arousal, the scent of virgin oil and ancient leather.

As the women closed their ranks behind her again, their backs turned to the entrance. That way they missed the appearance of yet another figure. It moved catlike, and as quiet as a shadow.

Angique leaned against a post of the wide-open entrance, folding her arms before her chest and chuckling. From chin to toes her body had been wrapped in black kid leather, supple and tight enough to show off her body's curves. Her hair was slicked back, her green eyes dramatized by the darkest kohl. Her lips shone with purple lipstick. One of her knees was over-stretched, the other one bent. The sole of her soft, flat ballet slipper rested against the paintwork. Her eyes followed the crawling woman with an unwavering gaze. One gloved fist held a braided whip, its tail coiled up in her hand.

Anna reached the low table at a corner of the Salon and crawled onto it — using it as an impromptu stage. She rose to her feet, folding her hands behind her head and pushing back her elbows. She spread her legs on teetering heels and arched her back. Her tits stood out, encircled by the leather straps. A bare expanse of shaven mound and shining belly undulated as she slowly churned her lower body. She looked around, taking in the stunned faces before her. At last her eyes found Angique, who still watched from the entrance — unnoticed.

"I am Anna," Anna said, her voice hoarse, but gaining in strength. "You know me ... or at least you thought you did." She chuckled and shook her head. "But you don't really know me now, do you?" There was a smile on her face. Her hands moved from her head down her cheeks and throat to her tits, kneading the oiled flesh, making the excited nipples slip in and out between her fingers.

"Noooo," she went on, stretching the "o's" into a low and breathy sigh. "You know me as the high and mighty, girl-teaching, would-be sophisticated, uptight hypocritical know-it-all prick — and now look at me!" She moaned as she pulled out her nipples with cruel fingernails. Her eyes never left Angique's.

"I am Angique's Anna now," she went on, almost whispering. "I am her slave and property. I am proud that she owns me and I am working my naked ass off to be worthy of her trust. I hold on to her hand like a scared child as she takes me down my road to perfection — a road I have always craved to walk but never dared to." Her fingers now traced her body, down to her crotch, where they disappeared between her baby-bare cunt lips. She shivered as she went on, while fingering her clit.

"I fuck and whore myself out for her, you know. I take the pain she deals me, and take it with a smile. I beg for it. It is my sole pleasure to please her. And today I am not ashamed to let everybody know who I am and what I ache to be — I want my family to know, my friends ... and you."

Her final words echoed into a breathless silence. The last syllable stretched out and turned into a sigh as she came hard, her knees trembling beyond control. It set off a muted murmuring. Women watched each other and started talking. A few turned around, following Anna's gaze. For the first time they saw Angique, who pushed herself off the post, unrolling the long whip. It slid across the floor like an uncoiling serpent, making the women recede — all of them but Gina.

The bitch could be blamed for many things, Angique thought, but never cowardice. Gina spit on the whip and looked up with contempt.

"So it's you again. You found a new victim," she said, her voice cutting glass. "And you can't suppress your sick need to rub our faces in it." Angique stared at her. A slight smile shaped the corners of her lips, quietly challenging.

"But it will be without me," Gina went on. "And without every sane woman still to be found in this Salon." She turned to the women, stating that she intended to leave. Then she grabbed the tiny Thai she had been dancing with. The two of them went past Angique to find the exit, but it was closed. Two huge security women blocked the way out.

Angique never took her gaze off the group of women gathered around Anna. They had halfheartedly followed Gina two or three steps, but stopped as they saw the guards. Angique knew it wasn't just the guards that stopped them; they were a welcome excuse, really. They just had to see, they had to know. They were human.

Angique looked up to Anna.

"Get down to your position, darling," she said sweetly, collecting the whip again and walking up to the low, improvised stage. Anna lowered herself on it. She went down on her elbows and raised her naked ass the same way she had prowled into the Salon.

Over the tinkling of Anna's chimes and chains, Gina's protests to let her out could be heard. She called some of the names of her Clan, but no one seemed to hear her. All eyes were on Anna. She had turned her naked backside to the crowd, both her hands reaching around her ass to grab the slippery cheeks and open them. Her cunt was on display, as was the tight star of her ass hole. Every inch had been oiled and smoothly shaven. The leather framed her exposed flesh, as did the lace trimmings of her stockings

"Tell them why you do this, Anna, a mature and sophisticated woman like you, a wife and a mother," Angique said. While talking she slid the whip's handle through the gaping crack, pressing the slick knob against her clit. Anna groaned. It took her a while to answer.

"I do this because it pleases my Mistress," she then said. "Pleasing her pleases me. She makes me forget the world and feel the way I always knew I should feel. She makes me feel nothing and everything. She makes me be myself."

Her last words were punctuated with loud, wet slaps, painting purple handprints on her ass cheeks. She cried out. Only the women in front understood that she said "thank you."

Angique stepped back and without taking her eyes off the bruised ass she yelled:

"Alicia!" The name stirred up a new storm of whispers that took a while to die out. Catlike, Angique turned on her heels, searching the group for the hidden girl.

"Show yourself, little traitor," she said. "I know you are here."

Two women shuffled aside and exposed Alicia who had been hiding behind them. The fierce wish to be elsewhere was written all over her face. Her hands tugged at the hem of her blouse.