“Sarah, you will obey.”

“No!” Silence reverberates through the parlor. “Please, Sir, not her.”

The woman’s smile sharpens. “Exciting, her defiance.”

“Vexing at times. Sarah?”

“As you wish, Sir.” She unpins a sapphire brooch; silk falls.

“Outrageous,” an older gentleman protests, rising; his wife’s dissuading hand clasps his arm.

“Exquisite.” Stiletto fingernails caress naked breasts. “She’ll mark beautifully.”

“As your pleasure demands.”

"Ma'am?" Sarah clutches the fallen silk.

“No." The woman seizes her wrist. "Come.”

Sarah lingers before the gentleman. “Thank you, Sir, but I am his to give. To anyone. Even this ... cunt.”

Hunger twitches the woman’s lips.