Harvest Moon

Voracious Reader: Have I mentioned I wish I could muster half as interesting of a plot as you seem to think me capable of? You’re brilliant, by the way.

IsaBella_Ravenhurst, Heidi191976, and angeles: So happy you’re enjoying this little story of mine.

Bluezauza: Really? I would have never guessed your first language wasn’t English. You write it very well.

Taz: Ask and ye shall receive.

If the bondage thing isn't your thing, I suggest you skip the next chapter or two even though it will be mild. At least according to my inclinations.

To everyone reading, I hope you enjoy.



***

Hermione stared around her in horrified awe. The Wicked Witch catered to specific proclivities, namely those with leanings toward pain. It was different from several other shops around for the simple fact the merchandise could be tried out before purchase. The owners much preferred it if one did so especially if the buyer was a novice to the scene. There were private areas where the staff could instruct any patron in the proper use of the various whips, floggers, paddles and other items the store sold.



“Arabella, what are we doing here? Rather what am I doing here?”



“You need to learn a few things before the party at the Gilded Lily, I told you that already,” Arabella said, sorting through various articles of clothing before tossing several over her arm. “Hmmm. No, that won’t do,” she said, holding a leather bustier against Hermione, who squeaked in protest.



“Really, Arabella, I hardly think this sort of thing is necessary.”



“Oh, it is, dear Mine,” a voice said from behind her. She jumped, turned toward the voice and turned a rather becoming shade of crimson when she saw the man behind her. “You should have waited for me, Ara,” Lucius said.



“I wanted to give you some cool down time once Taz told you about the plan. I wasn’t certain how hard you’d hit the roof, Luc,” Arabella said, tossing more clothing over her arm.



“I’ll have you know the ceiling is still intact. I’m not happy about this plan.”



“Of course not. You can be unhappy about it if it fails. Since it won’t, you’ve nothing to be worried about,” she said, shoving several things into his hands then Hermione’s. “Here, take these. I’m going to go look for a good beginner’s flogger for Hermione.”



“Wait! Why me?” Hermione said as Arabella walked off.



Lucius sighed heavily. “Because you’ll need to be seen with me at the party, Mine. Liren has you and Ara marked for the hunt. Since Ara has been with me on several occasions, it stands to reason you need to be with me there for this plan to work even remotely as it’s supposed to. Mind you, I’m not happy with putting the two of you in this kind of danger in the first place.”



Hermione shrugged. “If your house elf is right, we’re already in danger, Lucius. This is simply being proactive rather than reactive.”



Lucius frowned, even though he couldn’t fault her logic. “I still don’t have to like it, Mine.”



“Neither do I but it’s better than sitting around and waiting for him to make the next move.”



“True enough.”



Hermione started glancing through the clothing in her arms then the ones in Lucius’. “These wouldn’t be terribly revealing,” she said, looking puzzledly at Lucius. “I don’t understand.”



“You’ll be going as a Lady, an upper class Mistress, not a sub or slave. The costuming is different for that position as I’m certain you’ve noticed. Though I have seen a Master or Mistress dress their sub very well and have them wear only a collar to mark their place,” Lucius said thoughtfully.



Before Hermione could say anything else, Arabella came back to them. Lucius’ eyebrows went up because he recognized the walk as her Mistress in motion stride. One corner of his lips lifted because he had some idea as to what she might have in mind.



“I’ve secured a practice room for us, Hermione,” Arabella announced. “Are you up for helping train her, Lucius? Or would you prefer me to find one of the shop’s submissives?”



“Since it will be my back and bottom on the line. I think I shall do the honors, Ara,” Lucius said. “Which room is it?”



“Number four,” Arabella said with a smirk.



“Excellent.” Lucius walked on ahead of them, presumably going to the practice room.



Arabella took Hermione by the elbow and started steering her in the direction Lucius had just gone.



“Arabella, I really don’t think it’s necessary. Though there were times when I would have loved to have taken a whip to Lucius in the past . . .”



“Oh, you’ll not be taking a proper whip to him, Hermione. That takes years of practice to do properly without severely injuring someone. Remember that a heavy whip can flay the skin completely off, break bones, cause internal bleeding and a whole host of other things. It is a weapon, after all.”



“Why on Earth would someone get pleasure from something like that then?” Hermione asked, remembering the DVD in which Lucius had been bullwhipped and seemed to be enjoying it.



“If it’s done properly, there’s an endorphin high like you wouldn’t believe,” Arabella said. “Ah, here we are. Number four.”



Arabella pushed the door open and walked inside the room with a still very reluctant Hermione following her. She glanced around the room, taking in how odd it was that the room was done in soothing mint green instead of heavy, dark colors. There was a settee against the far wall of the room as well as a small wood and marble table, which Arabella piled the assorted clothing and floggers on. The only thing that marked the room as anything unusual was the solid bar hanging from double chains several feet overhead.



For his part, Lucius had already stripped out of his outer robes and the silk button down shirt he’d obviously been wearing underneath them. He was braiding his hair back as they walked in, presumably to keep it out of the way. Hermione seemed rooted to the spot for a moment, looking at the broad expanse of chest directly in front of her. She shook her head to clear it a little. In doing so, she missed the smirk on Arabella’s face.



“Well, Luc, what are your safewords?” Arabella asked him.



“The standard,” he said around the black ribbon in his teeth. He finished braiding his hair and tied it off before turning to reach up and adjust the bar to the right height.



“Tell Hermione what they are and what they mean while I’m strapping you up,” she said, going over to pull a low step stool from underneath the small table.



“Yellow is slow down or go lighter on whatever you’re doing. Red means stop everything immediately.”



“Why not just say stop or go lighter?” Hermione asked, frowning up at Arabella as she secured Lucius’ wrists to the bar with heavy leather cuffs.



Arabella shrugged. “Some people do. Safewords are generally a precautionary measure or if you’re playing the protest bit and denying a submissive any negatives like no or stop. Are those tight enough, Luc?”



Lucius pulled on the bindings, hearing the leather creak a little. “It’s fine, Ara.”



“Do you want warmed up first or for us to just start.”



“Just start.”