The barn was only one of the many outbuildings and, despite its name, was nicer than most people’s homes, with brushed concrete floors, air conditioning and teak doors on the ten large stalls. Las Palmas was a beautiful property north of Los Angeles, named for the twin rows of palm trees that lined the drive and circled the mansion. To outsiders it might seem like nothing more than an upscale adobe-style barn, built to match the massive, sprawling mansion a hundred yards away. They were assembled in the barn, the only space in Las Palmas large enough to house everyone. Some prowled the edges of kneeling men and women like predators circling a heard of prey. More were in the seating area in the converted hay loft, leaning forward to look down at the bounty of flesh on the ground floor. The Masters and Doms lounged on couches or in chairs along two of the walls. Still others sat cross-legged with their hands laced together behind their backs. Some sat back on their heels, others were kneeling up, their bodies straight from head to knee. Slaves and submissives knelt in various states of undress in the center of the large open space. She wanted to raise her head and look around, but she didn’t dare.
Anna’s legs hurt too-they’d been waiting here for over half an hour, and the concrete was hard against her knees and toes.
The submissive kneeling beside her shifted, wincing a little. Drawing attention to herself right now would be like a mouse squeaking in a room full of hungry jungle cats. She craved both.Īnna kept her breaths slow and even, trying to make as little noise as possible.