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I’m sure KC knew exactly what would happen bringing me here. I’m sure he wasn’t surprised at all by my request. But still, he played it cool.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I want you to have one,” he finally said and he sounded serious.
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure you’re ready.”
“Ready for what? You think I can’t handle it?” my voice was rising. My turn to be indignant.
He started to snicker.
“Are you toying with me, KC Gable?” I suddenly backed off.
“I don’t know, am I?”
Oh, I could see he was. I shook my head feeling very sassy seeing the irreverent look on his face. Damn! He made me horny. “Ah, KC, how about screwing my ass?” I asked. I moved up on my knees, leaning into him massaging his crotch through his leather pants where his cock was stiffening against my hand.
“Nope. Not until after you’re collared.”
“And when will that be?” I played more—hoping enough fondling would change his mind.
“Whenever I decide.”
“Oh, make it be soon, please.”
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“No.” He said abruptly. “I plan to make you sweat.”
I’m sure it wouldn’t be too long; he was horny too, and wasn’t likely to wait long to satisfy himself.
***
That evening was an off night for the calling down of naughty wenches. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a randy show for the company to watch at dinnertime. I thought the meal would proceed as normal; it showed all the signs of adjourning early until Davis waltzed before the crowd and quieted them with his gavel.
“It’s come to my attention that we have a ceremony to perform.”
I shuddered, believing it was my time, and so it was.
“The Maid Galen,” he called to me, and I shivered so that I could hardly rise from my seat. “Get up now, we won’t hurt you—at least not yet,” he turned and chuckled devilishly under his breath.
I couldn’t even look at KC. I bit my lip, and grasped the seat of my chair as though there was glue I had to pry loose. Finally, rising to my feet, my poor thighs felt as heavy as lead. Somehow, I managed to make it to the front of the room where Davis was waiting with my collar.
“Kneel,” he ordered, looking very officially into my scared eyes.
“For the duration of this Faire do you agree to all the requirements that wearing this collar will mean… that you will submit to the rituals that we hold dear… that you will conduct yourself submissively to all the company men at this gathering…and that you will graciously accept any punishment earned? Do you agree?”
“I do,” I answered with a faltering voice.
“Do you agree to wear this collar as a sign of your submissive status?”
“I do.”
“And if ordered by a male member of this company to pay with punishment or sex, do you agree?”
This element was new to me—the sex, now clearly spelled out when before I was only guessing.
“I do,” I answered, hardly faltering this time.
