Saving Sara (Masters of the Castle) Read Free Page B

station boasted an amazing array of equipment: a spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s cross, a padded horse, then a table, a saddle, sets of stocks, poles, hooks on chains suspended from the ceiling, sex slings and rows, shelves and racks of implements of every material, shape and kind.
    “Oh. Wow,” she said again, looking around.
    “No kidding,” he agreed.
    At least two hundred people wandered the play area, but the equipment was just spaced out enough for it not to feel too crowded. An occupancy sign posted on the wall at the bottom of the steps claimed the space rated for five hundred, and Sara had no trouble believing that that many could be accommodated. From here, she could see four neon exit signs, the only hint of modernization in the place, apart from the music. Everything else felt like something right out of history. The grand inquisition is what came immediately to mind, and for a while she found herself watching as, straight ahead of them, a naked man was strapped onto a cross while his master selected both a heavy strap and lexan cane from the wall.
    “Come on.” Robert tugged her hand, drawing her attention away. They weaved a path through the crowd, past a well-spanked woman in medieval stocks being “forced” to attend her master orally. She was grunting, drooling, gasping for air whenever her master allowed it, her make-up so smeared by tears and other things that she could have stood as a female stunt double for the Joker. In an instant, Sara imagined herself in that woman’s place, with her face being held like that while her master thrust all the way in to the back of her throat. She felt her stomach tighten, a delicious sensation she hadn’t felt in such a very, very long time.
    “It’s right over here.” Robert glanced back over his shoulder, giving her another of those grins that transformed his smile into something so handsome and boyish. “You trust me, right?”
    Why did he keep asking that?
    She laughed a little. “Of course I trus—”
    In the next split second, she caught the unmistakable, acrid scent of alcohol, and the cluster of observers gathered just beyond Robert inexplicably parted, as if on someone else’s cue. It wasn’t by much, just enough for her to catch glimpse of the fire wand igniting. That burst of flame brought Sara’s entire world crashing to a stop.
    Her chest tightened, a painful spasm so violent and abrupt, it felt as if her heart had just stopped. Everything disappeared—the costumed crowd, Robert—only the smell remained and the sight of that burning wand being lowered to tap the back of the naked woman lying prone on her padded table. Yellow fire raced down her spine and though it was promptly brushed out again, in a flash every bit as quick, suddenly Sara was back in that club in California, burning in a pool of liquid fire.
    Everything around her jerked. Sara didn’t realize it was because she herself had moved that way, wrenching her hand out of Robert’s though he tried to grab her arm. She twisted to run, but her legs refused to follow her and she fell, crashing to the floor in a rip of costumed skirts. Pain shot from the impact through her hip and up her back. She must have screamed, though she didn’t realize that either, not until everyone around her turned to stare. She flailed on her back on the floor, every limb scrambling and clawing to get her uncooperative body moving, unable to tear her eyes off the sight of that flaming wand. Unable to stop screaming.
    Robert turned away from her, stabbing his fingers back through his hair , and something hard struck her back. A wall… no, a door… It yielded almost immediately and the next thing she knew, Sara was kick-crawling backwards across cool bathroom tiles. She stopped only when she crashed into the wall between two urinals, one of which was in use.  Zipping quickly back into his pants, the startled man jumped back from her and then fled the bathroom entirely.
    The most horrible noise