**Rachel wore a black latex bodysuit with cutouts for her breasts and crotch. Her feet were locked into six inch stilettos and a spreader bar which kept them a yard apart. Chains bound her ankles and arms to a St. Andrew’s Cross. She was bound on the stage at The Chained Triangle, a leather dyke bar. She looked out on a sea of faces, all there to watch Mistress Jane work.
Jane stood behind her, and leaned forward, reached around and gripped her right breast. “I know you fucked him,” she whispered in Rachel’s ear. She knew. Rachel felt her stomach churn; she pulled on the chains to steady herself. She scanned the women in the crowd – her community. “Lesbians don’t fuck men, do they Rachel?” Jane whispered to her.
“N-no.” She felt her nipples harden.
Jane continued to caress her breasts, tweaking her nipples. “Look at them, Rachel. They know you and me, the know us. We’re part of their family. Think how betrayed they will be if they found out.” Her hands slid from Rachel’s breast to her crotch. “Want me to tell them?”
“No!” Rachel cried out.
“What will you do for me to keep them from knowing you’re bisexual. To keep them from knowing how you cheated on me, and with a man?”
Rachel looked out at them. Now, they weren’t just a crowd, she could pick out her friends: Alysa, Janet, Mo. Mo, who had been raped and hated all men, and women who deluded themselves by liking them. What would they think of her? Of her secret? “Anything,” Rachel whispered. “I’d do anything to keep them from knowing.”
“I’m going to cane your breasts,” Jane said. Jane knew how she felt about caning. No permanent marks, not on her breasts, ever. Jane had whipped her with a crop once on her breasts and that was much too much. She shook her head back and forth.
“You said ‘Anything’, Rachel, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to strike them over and over until your pretty, perky breasts are covered with red welts.”
“But our agreement…”
“The one you broke, when you slept with Richard? That agreement?” Jane tweaked her breasts, hard as she spoke. “I could tell them, could dump you, leave you alone. Maybe I should.”
“No,” Rachel said.
“That’s what I thought,” Mistress Jane said and picked up the cane.**