F is for Fallacy

The spotlights continue to point at the fellowship of two in the front row: Aldous and Nick. I can’t see their faces from the stage, but I can tell it’s them. Something feels fake in their act. They both sit in the exact same position: hands propped on wide open knees. Both lift their left hand and start tapping on the knee, like an invitation. Tap-tap-tap, come here little girl, tap-tap-tap, bend over my knee, tap-tap-tap.

“Go on,” the Mistress Kat nudges me with the riding crop. “Your Sirs are calling you for a warmup.”

What warmup, I fret, already whipped enough by the feral Mistress. Warmup is a fraction of what follows. If they call me for a warmup, this night will last forever, until I faint or slip into the fairyland and then, nothing else would matter. But I’m here for a fateful lesson, to be taught despite all my freakish fantasies. 

Frisky and overwhelmed, I pause at the edge of the scene, frantically tugging at the festive see-through shirt that barely reaches my bellybutton. Two men had seen me naked before, but never like this, and I fear the countless spectators, invisible to me.

I turn to Aldous: his eyes feign empathy, while his lips stretched in a devious smirk. I turn to Nick: his eyes widen in sheer horror, mouth rounded in a silent no.

I walk up to Aldous and he yanks me over his lap, shocking me with an immediate frenzy of the stingiest spanks that feel not like a hand but a heavy leather paddle.

“Foolish little girl, you thought you will wiggle your way out?” He doesn’t lose tempo throughout the entire tirade. “Fussy and feisty no more, Mistress Kat will show you, who you really are.” 

I squeeze my eyes to keep the tears in. He’s making it all up: I’ve never had a chance to be fussy or feisty, not with him, not ever. 

“And whatever she doles out today, will be your Friday maintenance from now on.” Aldous lets me go with a finishing slap, when I’m already on my feet, staring at Nick.

“Don’t fall for the fallacy.” Nick pulls me over his lap, only to whisper into my ear. “You don’t need to go through it, your fetish.” He mindlessly rubs my throbbing butt in circles. “Wake up, and this fiction is gone. And I will take you home.”

“What home?”

“Our home.”

“But I need to learn my lesson, or I fail,” I mumble into the floor, still flailing over his lap.

“Fine,” Nick flings his palm at my ass with palpable frustration. “Fetch me a flogger, and I will teach you a lesson myself.”

“No,” a finicky protest comes from Aldous. “You cannot flog her; the festivities must come from the Mistress.”

“Then what is she doing over my lap?” Nick asks.

I just listen to the ridiculous exchange, like a ping-pong bouncing from one man to another. 

“For a little frisson,” Aldous flexes his shoulders. “Besides, flogging is not your forte.”

“You fucking fraud,” Nick jumps on his feet with his fists in the air, dropping me on the floor. 

“Filter, gentlemen!” hisses Mistress Kat. “Fair warning!”

Alice must have been proud; off with my head. And I open my eyes.