“Fuck, please! I need it!” Sage had been dripping wet. Her cheeks flushed and her damp hair hung down over her face. She leaned her forehead against the tile and used both hands to coerce something more than the pittance of an orgasm that had disappointingly come and gone with little fanfare. “No, no, no… please… Don’t be done already! Don’t… fuck!” She tried for another minute using her fingers and the small bullet vibrator in tandem between her spread thighs. She pouted and turned off her toy and the shower which had disguised the telltale buzzing.

She wrapped a towel around her body and stepped in front of the mirror. She couldn’t concentrate, her head leaping from one fantasy to another before she could dig her teeth into any in particular. Lucy’s tan lines, the stern librarian scolding her, Maxwell opportunistically feeling her up… all of it at once was overwhelming. The results were lackluster, leaving her more frustrated than when she had started.

She frowned, wishing she had more time to play. But she had already been in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time. She wiped off the silver vibrator and returned it to its discreet case packed with her toiletries. She returned her glasses to her face. The steam clouded the lenses in moments.

Her mind turned to Miss Shear and her warning. The more she had thought about it, the angrier the implications had made her. She must have known her husband’s proclivities. He had been the one to make a move, not her. Yet Miss Shear had treated her as if she had arrived solely to seduce Lucy’s Dad. Was Sage really that much of a threat?

She thought on this, and a mischievous smile spread across her face. She let the towel slide to the ground and wiped the steam from the mirror. Then realizing she still couldn’t see she dried her glasses and looked again.

‘Damn right, you should be worried.’ Sage posed in front of the mirror, popping a hip forward and giving her best sultry look. She ran her hands down her tantalizing curves and rested them on her luscious ass. Sticking out her chest, she needlessly accentuated her already decadent rack. ‘You should be very worried,’ she mused as the fog overtook her glasses again.

She was preparing for a night out with Lucy, bar hopping and hopefully finding someone fun to take the edge off. Playing with Maxwell could prove to be a delicious little appetizer. For Lucy’s sake, she would stop before things got out of hand, but after the way Miss Shear treated her like a home wrecker the least she could do was act the part.

She thought of Miss Shear and herself. Maxwell certainly had a type, one that would be easy for her to exploit.

‘Oh Maxwell, I’m going to get you into so much trouble.’

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Wow, what smells so amazing!” Sage proclaimed as she entered the kitchen. Miss Shear was locked away in the library and Lucy had always taken a notoriously long time to ready herself. This meant she had Maxwell all alone, right where she wanted him.

He faced the stove, stirring a boiling pot. Asparagus was being kissed by the flames of the small grill installed into the counter. His hands moved quickly around the stove, sprinkling salts and measuring ingredients that were set aside. “Thank you, wait till the sauce comes togeth… to… together.” He froze, his eyes practically bulging at the sight of her. She had chosen well.

“What are you making? I am ravenous.” She asked with an air of innocence. Sage walked with a methodically slow sway of her hips toward the stove. She wanted Maxwell to have plenty of time to look her up and down. She felt powerful and sexy when men had that beastly look in their eyes.

Her little schoolgirl uniform was low-hanging fruit, to be sure. Her blouse was tight and nearly sheer so that the strapped red bra that barely contained her tits was on display. She wore high-heeled Mary Janes that oh-so-innocently tightened her thighs and ass. Cheap knee-high socks were tied with a plaid ribbon that matched her skimpy skirt. Even when standing upright, her ass peaked out the bottom.

Maxwell realized he was staring. This by no means made him stop, but he realized he was doing it. “I’ve got something that will fill you up. Gnocchi, with a truffled cream and Parmesan sauce. It may be a little heavy but I thought…” he trailed off into a whisper as she pressed her body next to his.

“I could do with something heavy. Hold this for me!” She handed the end of the coordinated plaid necktie to him and leaned forward and examined the contents of the boiling pot. Her ass hung out the back, purposefully revealing her red thong. There was an art to it, the feigned act of innocence she performed. Dropping the double entendres, the physical contact as the side of her breast brushed against his arm, her big doe eyes batting as she hung on his every word. “When can I taste it? I want to try your sauce!”

“I would love to give it to you. Would you like to help? There’s a lot I can show an eager young woman like yourself.” She pretended not to notice the beads of sweat running down his forehead. He was staring at her pigtails now. Men always liked having something to hold onto. Deep down boys never outgrew wanting to pull a girl’s hair. “Perhaps if you drain my gnocchi I’ll show you how I make my sauce.”

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her collarbone. It was almost too easy. “You would do that for me?” The sensation of his fingertips traveling up the back of her thigh was all the answer she needed. He raised the back of her skirt and nibbled her earlobe. “Mmmm, oh!” His hips pressed an unmistakable bulge against her.

“Sage is a guest, my love.” Miss Shear once again managed to sneak within arm’s length without notice. Maxwell had jumped nearly out of his skin as he tried to make space between the young student and himself. “You should leave the little girls to play among themselves. Your wife will be happy to assist you.” She strongly emphasized ‘little girls’ and ‘wife’

Sage wrinkled her nose as the excitement fell away. She turned to give a nasty look to Miss Shear and regretted it immediately. Miss Shear was smiling, an absolute saccharin expression plastered on her face. Yet her eyes were pure venom. Sage instead looked to the floor.

Maxwell was not particularly skilled at hiding his guilt. “Th-thank you, always happy for the help.”

“And I’m always happy to be of help. After all, what is a wife for if not to drain her husband’s gnocchi?” She kissed him on the cheek and took a pair of potholders from the drawer. “Maxwell, would you run upstairs and grab my purse? I’ll hold things down here for a minute. I wanted to give Lucy some money to cover their taxi rides tonight.”

“Of course, M’lady!” He answered with a dorky flourishing gesture. He seemed anxious to leave. “Don’t let my asparagus burn!” He gave her a peck on the cheek and ran up the stairs, leaving the two women alone.

Miss Shear marched the pot over to the sink. She stirred it with a large wooden spoon before pouring it into a colander. “That’s a cute little outfit. It’s too bad they didn’t have it in your size. Pretty tight, isn’t it? Maybe you should shop in the grownups section.”

In that moment any guilt she felt dissipated. Sage Silvers had one tremendous pet peeve, and that was being talked down to. “I can see why you might think that. Maybe you’re just a little old-fashioned to get it.” She had leaned on the word ‘old’, a low blow now it was said. “I would say it gets exactly the reaction I want.”

“Oh! Is that so?” Her fingers gripped a wooden spoon, her knuckles white around it.

“It is so!” Sage gloated, getting carried away with herself. She bent deep over the dining room table to present how amazing her ass looked. She added “And might I say, your husband is an excellent cook. I can’t wait for him to give me his cream sauce. Maxwell seems so eager to give it to me, maybe he’s gotten a bit bored of…”

The librarian was as quick as she was mean. Sage hadn’t even seen her move when her pigtails were snatched and yanked. An elbow from the same hand that held her hair dropped onto her spine. Never before in her life had Sage been manhandled like this, and by such a small woman. What she lacked in size she made up for with calculated leverage and decisive viscousness.

Sage’s neck ached as she arched backward, her body contorted to relieve the sudden onslaught of pain. Her feet flew up in the air as she fell fully onto the table. Her first instinct was to scream, but she found the wind had been knocked out of her. Sage’s lungs tried to gasp for air when the sting of the wet spoon struck her backside. Her legs kicked as the shock of the sting erupted through her body.

Miss Shear spanked her twice more with ferocious strength. Sage cried out as the librarian dropped the spoon and climbed onto the table, straddling the student’s back. Miss Shear’s manicured hand cupped her mouth and she hissed into her ear. “Little girl, this will be your last warning. Now you go upstairs and change these slutty little clothes. You will behave in my home!”

Sage was surprised to realize she was sobbing. Scared and humiliated she trembled under the oppressive control of the older woman.

Miss Shear pulled on Sage’s hair harder. “Do we have an understanding?”

Sage couldn’t have answered even if her mouth wasn’t covered. She nodded her head desperately with what little motion she had left in her neck.

“Good girl.” Miss Shear slid her body across Sage’s and stepped back onto the floor. With one last snap of Sage’s pigtails, she pulled her to her feet. “Now go and dry your eyes. Aren’t you going out for some fun tonight!”

Sage’s head slunk and she wiped her eyes. She simply answered, “Yes Ma’am,” and tried to control her erratic breath.

“Off with you then, hurry up. Dinner is soon.”

Sage passed Maxwell in the hallway up to the stairs. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Lucy was out of the bathroom so she decided to lock herself in there until she calmed down. She didn’t want anyone to know Miss Shear had gotten the better of her and made her cry.

From downstairs she heard Maxwell exclaim, “You two burned my asparagus!”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Sage angrily stuffed the schoolgirl outfit into her laundry bag and took one of her more conservative dresses off its hanger. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks flushed. Miss Shear had punished her, made her whimper. Then Sage had just run away from her with her tail between her legs.

Turning her hip she looked at her butt cheek. The bright red mark lingered. She tenderly touched it and jumped, it was tender. Under different circumstances Sage may have been impressed, but as she slipped on the shin-length black dress all she could feel was shame.

She cleaned up her makeup and combed out her tangled hair. As she tidied herself, she collected her thoughts.

She could do as Miss Shear commanded. She could be a good little house guest and do exactly what her friend had planned. Then Sage could do her best to forget what had just happened and move on with her life.

But she had cowered. She had crawled away to weep in the bathroom like a punished child. The humiliation washed over her and it burned.

There was another option, of course. Revenge. She sniffed one last time and wiped her nose.

She would bide her time and play the game. She had the whole week after all. And before the end, Miss Shear would be broken.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Lucy was so happy everyone was getting along. After all there really had been nothing to worry about. Her parents were a bit boring, but they were kind and smart. Sage would naturally get along well with them. It’s not like she couldn’t keep her more lurid behaviors in check. And now they were all sharing a happy meal.

“Mmmm, oh my god. This is exactly what I needed! Please, may I have more!” Sage smiled in contented satisfaction, side-eyeing Lucy’s mother to see if she reacted.

“Sage, you have a little something on your chin.” Miss Shear gestured to where the white sauce had dribbled. Much to Sage’s annoyance, she smiled contently.

“Oh no, could you please pass me a napkin? I got it all over myself. Oh no, it’s all over my chest!”

Maxwell dropped his fork on the floor.

“Of course! Lucy, I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record but I am so glad you brought home someone so polite!” Miss Shear reached out, put her hand over Sage’s, and gave it a grateful squeeze. Sage quivered but fought the urge to pull back. “There you are, my dear,” Miss Shear said as she handed her a napkin.

Maxwell looked pleased with himself as finished retrieving his utensil from the ground. “That’s your third plate! Have you girls eaten at all today?” He had been avoiding looking either at his wife or Sage.

Lucy was beaming. “This is our first real meal. We’ve been sustained by road snacks alone.” Her father dramatically feigned horror. It was so nice to be with her family and best friend.

“Lucy, don’t you look beautiful.” Miss Shear brushed a hair behind her daughter’s ear and looked her over. “You’ve grown to be such a wonderful young lady! I’m so proud of you.”

Lucy stood up and took her plate to the sink. Her good table manners hid her slight embarrassment about being doted on in front of her friend. “Thanks, Mom. I mean, I may not look as elegant as Sage over there. Damn girl, I would tell you that you were overdressed but you’ll certainly turn heads.”

“Oh please, look at you in that little black dress. It’s always a pleasure to see you in it.” And it was at that. It was a tight garment that could have been painted on. She currently wore a leather jacket over the top, but Sage guessed it was for her parents’ sake alone. She knew this dress well. It was low cut and Lucy never wore a bra with it.

“Oh, this old thing?” Lucy joked. “Old faithful, it’s never let me down. This dress has its own body count.”

“Hey, girls!” Maxwell spoke up. “I consider myself a very open and understanding parent. I pride myself in letting Lucy do whatever makes her happy and not trying to constrain her sexuality. That being said, as her Father I would rather not hear about her ‘body count’ if that’s OK with you.”

“Sorry, Dad. just excited about tonight! It’s going to be an absolute blast!”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was in fact, not a blast. The girls were home by ten and Miss Shear hadn’t even gone to bed yet. “Back already?” She had been in the library, reading again. She wore a silk black nightgown that was both classy and quite sexy if Sage was honest.

Lucy answered, dejectedly. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been away a while. I forgot that Monday nights in small-town bars are generally just… sad.”

Sage had hoped not to return to the Shear’s home tonight. She could have used a good distraction as she worked on her game plan. Miss Shear’s presence did little to make her feel any better, and her unattended horniness just made matters worse. “OK, now that we’re back home why did you chase me away from that one girl, Caitlin? She seemed nice and was into me!”

“Oh yeah, she is very nice and was definitely into you. But her nickname in High School was Crabby Cat. Was sort of the disease vector of the county.” Lucy shrugged.

Sage wanted to levy a clever response to this but was just too tired. She sighed in disappointment and wanted to run upstairs, shower, and go to bed.

“You girls can try again tomorrow,” Miss Shear said. She seemed so natural and supportive in the presence of her daughter. Sage wondered how she could so casually mask the fury that had to be bubbling. “I’m glad you’re both back safe and sound. I should get some sleep, I have work tomorrow. I love you, Lucy.” Miss Shear hugged her daughter.

“Love you, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

Sage flinched as Miss Shear pulled her in for a hug. “It’s so good to have finally met you, Sage.”

As she walked up the steps, Lucy went to the kitchen to heat up some of the leftover gnocchi. “Wow, my Mom really likes you a lot!”

Sage shivered. She was resentful. Scared and, much to her discontent, so very aroused.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Sage had always admired Lucy’s dedication and work ethic. She was constantly training and succeeding. She had a full ride for swimming but had also found success competing in triathlons. Despite her fun-loving attitude she always found time to study and do quite well in school. Yet on mornings like this, when Sage was so incredibly exhausted, she found no fondness in her friend’s early morning schedules.

Lucy had gotten up at six in the morning for a run. Since Sage was sleeping on a small cot right next to Lucy’s bed this meant she was also awake at six in the morning. “Why! Why are you like this!” Sage pleaded as she stuffed her head under a pillow.

“You could join me, it good to start your day by getting your blood pumping.” She threw around her unfolded clean laundry until she found the pieces she needed.

Sage peeked out from under the pillow. “I have much more fun ways to accomplish that. Would you like me to show you?”

Lucy slapped her friend’s ass and headed to the door, “Get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it.” With a wink, she set out for the bathroom.

The window was starting to glow in the early morning light. There probably wasn’t much time until it would be too bright to allow sleep. She threw the blanket over her head and closed her eyes.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Sage fell out of bed, startled by the howling sound coming from down the hall. ‘Who the fuck vacuums at…’ She scanned the room for a clock. It was only 6:30. Apparently her roommate’s early bird tendencies were a family trait.

The house was soon filled with noises. The laundry machine was running, and the sounds of feet scuttled through the hallway, even the birds seemed to be screaming for her to wake up.

Defeated, she headed to the bathroom with her satchel of toiletries in hand. She wore an extra-long t-shirt that had been taken as a trophy from one of her previous conquests. Lucy’s Father was dusting a painting in the hallway. “Good morning, Maxwell.”

He froze, his eyes traveled from her bare thighs up her delicious curves. “Good morning, young lady. Sleep well?” He asked her breasts, at least that’s where he directed the question.

Sage indulged his stare as she interlocked her fingers and stretched her hands into the air. Of course, she made sure her tits were pressed outward with the fabric of the shirt pressed against her skin. “I did until you woke me. Naughty boy.”

Maxwell looked over his shoulder. He listened for his wife’s shower, which was still running. “Maybe you need put back to bed. I could tuck you in.”

Sage smirked, “Can you? When you seem so scared of your own shadow.” She popped an eyebrow and pressed. “Or at least your wife’s.”

He was irritated, Sage was beginning to understand how to push his buttons. She enjoyed this part of the game, playing armchair psychologist and trying to understand how best to seduce someone. It wasn’t just about being fucked, it was being fucked well. This was a skill she prided herself on. He shrugged and suggested, “She’ll be gone soon enough.”

“Oh, the big, brave man! So bold when the little woman steps out.”

He grabbed her by her messy bedhead and pulled her into his daughter’s room. He was getting irritable and rough, just how Sage wanted. She didn’t quite understand the Shear’s dynamic, but she was starting to get the general idea. He was doing his wife’s laundry, cooking her meals, and cleaning the house. Miss Shear never lifted a finger. She hid in the library and read her books. Was he resentful? Unfulfilled? It was hard to say.

He pushed her onto the roll away bed and the springs screamed with their impact. “Is this what you want? To get fucked while she’s looking the other way?” His hands hovered over her breasts. She realized this was not simply dirty talk, he was asking for permission. He awkwardly squatted, he was above her but made sure she didn't’ feel trapped. He was playing the bad boy, but he was being so respectful as he did so. Sage had no interest in being treated with respect.

“Fuck me then,” she said with a demure smile. Then she raised her head next to his. He was shaking, bristling with nerves and horniness. “She turned the shower off a minute ago,” she whispered into his ear. His eyes went wide with this realization. He pulled back, but Sage wasn’t done. She wrapped her arms under his and bit his earlobe. He struggled half heartedly to leave, a conflict between two of his heads raged. “C’mon, big man! Give it to me quick!” She opened her legs wide. The shirt bunched upward over her thighs. The smell of her cunt enticed him.

The sound of his bedroom door might as well been a lightning strike. He jumped up and pushed her off him. Maxwell bolted for the door, but looked back longingly to Sage. She adjusted her glasses and winked, leaving her thighs parted wide so he could see her wet cunt.

“Fuck,” he whispered longingly and shuffled out the door.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Mr. Shear, may I please have more sausage?” Sage gave him hungry eyes.

He shot her a desperate look, pleading with her for mercy.

“Dear, what are you waiting for? Give it to her!” Miss Shear instructed her husband.

He had cooked breakfast by the time Lucy had returned. The whole family had been eating together though it seemed Maxwell had lost his appetite.

“You OK, Dad? You’re mind seems to be elsewhere.”

“Just been feeling a little under the weather,” he mumbled. His face had turned red and he seemed to be trying hard to look anywhere except at Sage. Perhaps she had overdone it.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The next few days were uneventful. Maxwell served the family meals. Miss Shear left for work while he pecked away at the keyboard in his office. Sage studied in the mornings and spent much of her time with Lucy who took her around the house and woods.

Maxwell was avoiding her. He was always pleasant, funny, and affectionate around his family. But when Sage tried to turn his head he either stayed annoyingly focused on his work or buzzed away to complete some chore or ran off for an errand.

This didn’t mean she didn’t catch him staring. They were often alone in the office as she studied. When that keyboard fell silent she looked from the corner of her eyes to see him glancing in her direction. When they talked at meals his gaze always seemed to linger a little longer than needed.

“Maxwell, I never did thank you for that delicious sausage,” she said with a wink.

“You’re welcome.” He turned back to his keyboard and resumed his work.

Perhaps she misjudged him. She assumed with how fast he had been to act that he was a hound dog. Maybe that wasn’t quite it. Maxwell had a type. His wife was a librarian, Sage was in no uncertain terms a nerd. Big glasses, short women. Oh he wanted her, but he had become quite flustered when the opportunity was available.

Sage wasn’t about to admit defeat, but this was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. When Miss Shear was home, he was always dutifully by her side. For her part, Maxwell’s wife showed no more of her hidden self to Sage. She was kind and funny, supportive and caring. They made innocuous small talk at the dinner table, all the while the serpent kept her fangs tucked away.

Yet Miss Shear gloated. She shot Sage knowing looks and devilish smiles. She seemed proudly aware of her husband’s persistent loyalty. Miss Shear was feeling quite superior, and Sage burned.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The club they went to on Tuesday was worse than the day before. The girls had the full attention of everyone at the bar, everyone being three heavy-set men in their sixties who spoke in voices slurred by an abundance of alcohol. They came home even earlier.

Sage had grown increasingly frustrated as her libido went unquenched. The Shear’s collective attractiveness only made the issue more pressing.

They agreed to take the night off on Wednesday. Lucy had been training for a triathlon and had only been doing light workouts during the visit. She had planned on a long, intense training day on Thursday morning that would have her out of the house until late in the afternoon.

Her parents on the other hand had their weekly Wednesday date night planned. One that would be concluded with a bracing night of board games when they returned. The girls had been invited to join, but both declined politely. Sage had grown bored, and an evening of Miss Shear’s smug glances did not seem enticing.

She hoped to find something to entertain herself within the library before they returned. Lucy would be going to bed early and she desperately needed something to distract her from what was sure to be a painfully boring night.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Sage’s foot bounced against decorative dry reeds in a large ornamental pot that sat next to the chair she lounged in. There was something tacky about them that seemed oddly out of place in the library. The fact that she was giving so much thought to a bunch of dried sticks was a testament to how little the book in her hands was holding her attention.

She closed it and threw back her head to scream. “Ahhhh!” The soundproof door was closed so she felt free to let out her frustration. Time was passing quickly, they were supposed to leave on Friday afternoon. Maybe she could join Lucy in the gym tomorrow. Not to work out of course, but to hopefully find someone to work her out. Her mind wandered to Lucy’s naked body, thinking how the sweat dripped from her nipple as she got ready to shower. “AHHHHHH!”

She scanned around the shelves for something more satisfying to read when an anomaly caught her eye. On the top shelf dedicated to romance novels, a book seemed out of place. It was thin and tall, nothing written on the spine, and it was not tucked in flush with the other books. It was a journal, and finding something misfiled by Miss Shear, the perfect librarian, gave her a bit of a stir.

She slid one of the shelf ladders, climbed up, and retrieved it. The cover was black leather, and the pages bulged. It seemed to be some sort of scrapbook with pictures glued to the pages. Intrigued she took it back to her chair and opened its pages.

With immaculate calligraphy, the journal was full of notes, collected data, and pictures from decades of research into one particular subject. Sage sat on the edge of the chair and turned to a random page in the middle.

June 22nd, 2015. Red failed to have the floor mopped upon return home. Subject received seven lashes before begging. Consistent with past experiments, Red’s resolve and pain threshold plummets when lashed across nipples. Far below the average of twelve lashes before begging. Upon release his performance was fair. Future tracking to include performance quality in relation to number of lashes.

The accompanying picture shows the extent of her work. Maxwell’s white chest was decorated with the seven perfectly spaced red lines.

She tried an earlier passage.

December 13th, 2009. Red woke me in the night to fuck. He did so without permission and his performance was sloppy. The Subject was denied access to my body for two weeks. On the last night, I brought home an unnamed stranger from the bar to partake of me while Subject watched. Stranger then fucked my Subject’s ass while I observed. Subject then was allowed to fuck me while Stranger watched. Performance of stranger was lackluster. Performance of Subject was phenomenal.

She flipped through and found notes on choking, slapping, flogging, pegging, scratches, and whipping with notes on almost every day rating his ‘performance’.

“My, my, my… What a nasty lady you are,” Sage found herself musing with respect. She was leafing through the book, finding a particularly interesting passage on ‘testicular compression’ when she was startled by the shine of headlights as their car pulled into the driveway. She stood up and slammed the book shut, running to return it to its place.

The library door was closed which meant she couldn’t hear outside. She had no idea how much time she had, but ‘board game night’ was supposed to follow their dinner. She frantically climbed the ladder. Stretching high to place the book to the gap it belonged in, her comfortable wool socks suddenly proved a liability. Her toes slipped. Sage grabbed the ladder and the book fell back behind her, hitting the ground along its spine. Pictures flew across the floor in different directions.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Sage chanted as she scrambled to scoop up all the elicit photos. The last one was by the desk. She grabbed it and looked around. There was no time to put everything back. The best bet was to hide it for now.

The closet! She opened the slatted door. She could stash it here and retrieve it later. Tomorrow she might be able to fix it. A few winter coats were pushed to one side and stacks of board games went from the floor up to her chest. The library door opened and she heard a hissed scolding.

“Get the fuck in here!” Miss Shear was livid. Something on the date had evidently not gone well. When Miss Shear was angry, she was terrifying. Sage was not going to be caught holding her secret journal, especially now. She carefully and quietly closed herself behind the slatted door and pushed herself back into the coats.

She realized she could quite easily surveil the room by peeking between the slats. Maxwell drug his feet with his head slumped. Miss Shear shut the door behind him and slid the deadbolt into place. His shoulders slumped. “I told you, I was just being friendly!”

“You are being an embarrassment, Maxwell! She’s a fucking child, the same age as your damned daughter.” She wore a long, black trench coat that reached her knees. Even this hugged her figure, the bespoke cut hugged her chest and tapered into her hourglass waist.

“What am I supposed to do? Tell her to fuck off and be rude to our daughter’s guest? She’s been coming on to me! I haven’t done anything…”

When Miss Shear’s hand struck her husband’s cheek, Sage swore she could feel the shock wave. The room fell dead silent. So quiet that Sage put her hand over her mouth, fearing her breath would be heard. Miss Shear spoke in a calm and hushed tone. Yet she spoke with authority and conviction. Her quiet words carried more weight than screaming ever could. “Red. Down.”

Maxwell, or Red as he now was called, complied. He dropped to his knees before her. “You think I don’t know my little Red dog? That I wouldn’t know what sort of bitch catches your eye.” She caressed his red cheek lovingly. “For the past three days, she’s all you’re filthy little mind has been thinking about. Is this not true?”

He didn’t speak. There was no point. The answer was obvious. He tilted his head upward and met his wife’s gaze. And he nuzzled her hand and waited.

“Oh, Red. My poor little pup. You know I do this because I love you.” She grabbed him by the hair, holding his face in place. She held back her other hand, threatening several times to hit him. He remained still, waiting. She nodded approvingly before clapping her hand across his other cheek. He held her eyes, not looking away. She hit him. Again, and again, and again. Even when Sage thought she spied a trickle of blood run down his lip, their eyes remained locked.

Finally, when Miss Shear reached her hand back he flinched. She held her hand, nodding in satisfaction. “Shirt off, boy.” He stood up and removed his sweater vest. Then he began to work the buttons. To Sage’s horror, Miss Shear began walking toward the closet. She pressed into the corner and pushed herself behind the coats.

“Pants on or off?” Red asked. Sage couldn’t see a thing in the coats, but could only hope.

“Lowered. I want to see your cock. It tells me the truth when your all your mouth does is spit lies.” She turned her attention to the closet. She suddenly whispered, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sage nearly opened her mouth when Miss Shear turned to address Red. “I told you to have the winter coats cleaned and put into storage. This is exactly the lazy behavior I’ve been talking about!” She ran her fingers down the stack of board games and selected one, closed the door, and set it on the desk. “This household is falling apart because you are distracted. And tonight, I will fix that problem. Go to the ladder, that one along the far wall.”

Sage breathed a sigh of relief, her heart pounded. Now she watched in fascination as the box was opened. There were no pieces, dice, or cards. Instead, she produced a silk cloth and unwrapped two shiny pairs of handcuffs.

“Hands up, Red!” She grabbed the handcuffs and marched to him. She sauntered over, twirling the cuffs around her finger. His cock was engorged and his muscled arms were held high as he gripped the top rung of the ladder.

In a moment of extreme curiosity, Sage delicately lifted the lid of the closest board game. Shoots and ladders turned out to be a disconcertingly thick strap-on. ‘Oh Lucy, and here you thought your parents boring. They hid everything in plain sight.’ She was impressed with the elegance of their solution.

Miss Shear straddled her husband as she climbed the ladder, dragging her tits roughly up his chest and pushing them into his face. Sage was suddenly stricken with the urge to touch herself, to imagine being in his place. Lucy’s mother took her time, deliberately moving slowly and letting Red grow more and more agitated as she tightened his bindings.

He didn’t dare give in to his urges. He wouldn’t bury his face and let his mouth explore her chest like he longed to do. He had not been permitted to do so. Instead, he waited. His eyes watching her face in desperation. He shifted his feet and the engorged cock bounced.

Miss Shear climbed back down, the coarse fabric of the coat scratching her husband as she did. “Red, we will now talk about your shortcomings and how you can correct them.” She walked over to the vase with the dried reeds, selecting one.

“Yes Ma’am.” His breath was ragged, already being held in as he prepared to endure the stings to come.

“Today I came home to dirty dishes, the dust has collected on my books, and the bed was not made.” For each transgression, she cracked the switch across his chest. Muffled grunts with each strike echoed through the silent library. Bright red horizontal lines raised from his pale chest, placed evenly with almost military precision.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he said through gritted teeth.

“In my own home, you fraternized with that pathetic little girl.” This offense carried the penalty of three whippings. “You let your beastly little mind wander in front of your daughter. You made me watch my husband eye-hump my daughter’s little friend.” This whipping seemed to be the hardest yet and the switch snapped upon impact.

“Sorry, Ma’am.” He held his head up, but his back began to curl. He was starting to break. The line across the top of his stomach turned a deep purple. The room had grown hot and Miss Shear had begun to sweat as she picked out a new switch. Still, her coat remained on.

“Yes, you are sorry.” Sage watched eyes wide, her mouth had gone dry and her cunt was wet. She bristled with excitement as Miss Shear grabbed him by the balls and squeezed. She rolled them around her hand and contemplated, “This was all my fault. I’ve been far too lenient on you, I’ve let you regress.”

He raised a foot and stepped it onto the ladder. His hands struggled against their bindings and he pathetically whimpered while being roughly handled. “Yes, Ma’am,” he affirmed.

Her hand clenched and he whined like a hit dog, unwittingly stumbling into the trap that had been laid for him. “My fault? This is my fault? I am to blame for your pathetic failings?!”

“N-no!” He stammered and stuttered, trying to roll back what he had said. No mercy was given, four more lashes and the lines were getting dangerously close to reaching his erection. She released his pouch and teased him with the switch.

“Who’s at fault, Red? Who’s to blame?” She turned the reed around in her hand, brushing his member with the prickly dried stalk and inviting him to think hard on his next answer.

“It’s my fault, Ma’am.” He slumped his head and looked downcast.

"Oh, Red, my poor little dog. Look at you.” She dropped the reed and touched his welts, her fingertips running from the lowest line upward and relishing the fresh topography of his flesh. “How could I blame you? After all, you’re just a dumb beast. It’s your nature.” She kissed his chest and leaned close, her body against his as her hands reached the first lash he was given at the top. She almost seemed tender as she pressed against him.

“AH! God!” He writhed and wriggled. Sage didn’t understand what was happening until she noticed her fingers moving down leaving red streaks and a cross-hatch pattern of pain. Her nails dug into his flesh and scraped downward. He gasped loudly every time her claws ran over the welts from his beating.

“One last time. Who’s fault is it that you are being punished?” She lovingly gazed into his eyes as her nails scratched down his belly.

“SAGE!” Sage cupped her hand over her mouth as she gasped, surprised to hear him scream her name. Miss Shear’s fingers stopped. “It was Sage who did this to me!”

She embraced him. Hugging him tightly she let him hang his head over her shoulder. “Good boy. That’s right. My darling, Red. Look what she’s done to you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” She held him and comforted him as his body trembled. Then she ascended the ladder again, this time, releasing him from his bindings.

“Don’t you just hate her?” Miss Shear asked him as he rubbed his wrists. She stayed close, her hand starting to move downward and taking his cock in her hand. She played with it as he looked at her with a curious smile.

“I do.”

“Don’t you want to punish her?” Miss Shear suggested.

Sage squirmed.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Sliding down to her knees, Miss Shear looked up at her husband commanded him. “Tell me how you would do it.”

“I would display her to you. Ravish her slutty little body.” He said, watching as she took his shaft in hand. “Oh….” His eyes closed as she gently kissed the tip, the sticky cum clung to her lip.

“Details, details. Tell me what you would do to her, Red.”

‘What would you do to me, Red!’ Sage echoed the thought excitedly.

“I would grab her by the hair, bend her over right in front of you.” Miss Shear smiled and rewarded him by sliding his cock into her mouth. “I would… I would pull her hair, so you were face to face... Oh god!”

Sage marveled at her technique. The librarian’s head moved in one smooth, steady motion. Her lips started wrapping around the tip of his cock. Then she took it all in, her tongue sliding down the bottom of his shaft as she opened her throat to accommodate all of his swollen dick. Without so much as blinking, Miss Shear’s spectacled eyes watched him.

Red desperately tried to speak through the pleasure. “I want you to see the look her in the eyes when I… when I fucked her in the… ahhhHH!”

‘God damn, that was fast,’ Sage thought, though she couldn’t blame him. Miss Shear drew back, giving him the space in her mouth to completely empty himself as she milked every drop from him. Not one bit of spit or cum escaped her. It was clean and neat. She rose to her feet, and in an almost ritualistic response, he fell to his knees.

She held him by the chin and treated him to a sweet kiss. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, opening it. And she returned his seed to him. Miss Shear forced his cum into Maxwell’s mouth, then pulled away. She let gravity do the rest of the work, and the remainder of his semen dripped down from her into his throat. He swallowed as the moonlight sparkled across the sticky strands that connected them. As he consumed the last of her gift she kissed him again.

“Red, you are simply terrible with words. You may show me what you would do to her,” she said as she began to untie the belt of her coat.

Sage ached with desire. What did she mean, show her? What did they have in mind for her? Were they going to have her join them? Would they look for her? She wanted to burst out of the closet and show them she was ready and that she could take it. Then as Miss Shear opened her trench coat Sage’s chest welled with anger.

The coat fell to the ground around her high heeled Mary-Janes. She had black knee socks, tied with a ribbon that matched the plaid skirt. Sage’s ribbon. Sage’s plaid skirt. Sage’s tight button-up shirt. Sage’s plaid necktie. The clothes had been stolen from her laundry, the very outfit Miss Shear had beaten Sage’s ass for wearing in front of her husband.

“Mr. Shear, what are you doing? Wh-wh-why aren’t you wearing any pants?” Miss Shear removed her hairpin and the dark black hair spilled down her back. She used two small ties she had kept in the coat pocket to replicate the twin pigtails that Sage had worn with the outfit.

“Sage, you nasty little girl? Do you think I’m going to just let you wear such a cheap, slutty outfit and not punish you?” Red asked his wife, clearly excited about what he saw.

Sage sneered from the closet. Miss Shear was curvier than she was. Her thick ass and thighs made the micro-skirt simply decorative with no functional coverage. The few buttons on the shirt seemed strained, ready to give up. Miss Shear had mocked her for wearing an outfit far too small, then squeezed into it to get fucked by her husband.

“Mr. Shear! What are you doing?” Miss Shear answered. Her cadence and tone were a half-assed parody of Sage. And at this, a hatred began to take hold of the college student. Was this their game? Role-playing… her?

“What’s the matter? I thought you were a big girl. You were such fucking tease.”

“I was just playing! I didn’t think you would…”

Red pounced on her, dragging her to the ground. “Fucking dumb little whore!” He ripped the shirt open, the last strained buttons flying to the corners of the room as he buried his face into her tits. She moaned and ran her hands through his hair and lightly tugging in a feigned escape attempt.

“Stop, oh please stop! I’m a virgin!” His wife cried, grinning from ear to ear as Red indulged in her breasts.

‘Of course you are. You venomous bitch!’ Sage wanted to spit in her face.

“You won’t have to worry about that for long!” He slid his thighs under hers. She playfully pushed him away, sliding back on the floor until he roughly grabbed her necktie and held her in place.

“Oh, please! It’s too big! I, I can’t take that!” She kicked her legs wildly in the air as he mounted her, pushing into her cunt. “AHHHH! Oh god! Why does it hurt so good! Mr. S, what are you doing to me!” She wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her shows digging into his ass and dictating the pace as he fucked her on the floor. She moaned dramatically, giving a performance that could best be described as a low budget porno crossed with community theater. “Stop, please! I can’t help it! You’re going to make me cum!”

Sage watched, and she raged. It was insulting, humiliating! She didn’t know what was worse, Miss Shear’s portrayal of her as a dumb airhead or what a lackluster fuck she was. Red came in her quick enough, but by Sage’s experience making a man cum was never a challenge. They screwed like an old married couple. She lay there, he humped her, swap positions, and repeat.

And every time Miss Shear found a new half-baked role play. The scenarios got progressively more insulting.

“Are you sure this will help my sore throat,” she asked before being taught how to suck a cock.

‘Bitch!’ thought Sage as Red carefully mouth-fucked his wife.

“I can’t afford food! I spent all my allowance on toys!” Miss Shear said as she wiped the cum from her chin.

“Well, I’ve got ten dollars for the first girl to bounce on my cock!”

‘Bastard!’ Sage stewed in her fury at the lowball offer. ‘At least you’re getting what you paid for.’ She thought as Miss Shear rode her husband with all the skill and enthusiasm of a flopping fish.

“Mr. S! Mr. S! I was trying to do laundry and I got stuck in the dryer!” Using the space under his desk as a dryer stand-in, she stuck her ass in the air and bounced it desperately until Red began to fuck her. “What’s happening? What’s going on!”

Sage wanted to throw open the closet door. She wanted to tell them both what pathetic fucks they were. But she bit her tongue and waited.

For an hour and a half, Sage seethed. She let the white-hot rage wash over her, yet she smiled. She had learned a lot tonight, after all. She watched their kinks and dynamics. She watched as ‘Red’ fucked his wife how she wanted, always holding something back. Sage could do so much better with him.

‘Have your fun, Miss Shear. Enjoy him tonight. In the morning, I’m going to fuck your husband, and I’m going to wreck him.’