Only Consenting Adults Ch. 11

Cassie didn't take the implement. Instead, her hand settled on the cross. With a tug, she rotated it until Quinn's naked body was displayed in the spotlight. His bottom was reddened, striped with the marks of the cane. She ran her hand over his tortured flesh, feeling the burn of his skin against her fingers. She rotated the cross once again, turning it until it was side-on to the room, with Quinn's tortured body bound on the far side. Ally stood next to her, the cane offered. Cassie looked down at it, feeling suddenly remote. She looked back to the cross, to Quinn's face between the wooden arms.

Wordlessly, she kicked off her heels and then reached down to the hem of the latex dress. Focusing only on Quinn's eyes now, she began to pull the tight white latex up over her head, exposing the nakedness of her taut, slim body. Stepping forward, she positioned each foot against the feet of the cross and bent over to secure her ankles to the wood. Cassie reached up and slipped her hands through the loops on the tops of the arms of the cross. Her face was close to Quinn's, close enough to kiss.

"I guess I'm the guilty too," she whispered, closing her eyes beneath the unbearable honesty of his gaze.

She heard Quinn clear his throat. "The paddle," he said, "It's easier."

"Yes," said a woman's voice behind her. It was Syn. Of course, it would be Syn.

She waited, straining to hear the sound of heels on the floor approaching her. They stopped and a cool hand brushed her neck, grooming her hair to one side over her shoulder. The hand lingered over the ripe curve of her bottom, cupping the soft skin. Then it withdrew. Cassie braced herself.

"Relax," Quinn whispered, so close that only she could hear, "Don't tense up. Accept the pain, don't fight it, or it will hurt more."

In response, Cassie tried to relax her body, forcing the tension to dissipate in her muscles.

The pain came out of nowhere, searing across her flesh, and she screamed in shock and rage: Syn had not given her a warning. Her buttocks clenched tightly, but the agony lingered.

"Thank her," Quinn murmured.

She opened her eyes again. Quinn's expression was soft, compassionate. He nodded encouragement.

"Thank you, Madame Syn," Cassie called out.

The second blow struck, again without warning and her body arched in agony. Cassie gritted her teeth as she waited for the burning pain to subside.

"Well done," Quinn whispered.

Cassie braced herself for the next blow and flinched when she felt contact with her bottom. But it was a hand touching her rather than the hard paddle.

"Are you okay?" Syn murmured from behind her.

Cassie nodded, glad that Syn had shown concern, but dreading the next slap of the fearful implement in her hand. Instead, she heard the click of heels as Syn walked around the cross to the other side. Cassie could see her now, over Quinn's shoulder. Her face was stern, unreadable. She turned to face the crowd.

"Who else is guilty?"

From the corner of her eye, Cassie saw movement. A petite woman with long dark hair and skin the colour of coffee stepped up onto the stage. Cassie recognised her immediately.

"I'm guilty," said Eve.

Syn handed her the paddle and she stepped up to the cross behind Quinn. From close quarters, Cassie was able to read every line in his face, staring directly into his warm, brown eyes. Fascinated, she watched as he prepared for the blow, the way he focused and finally let himself relax. Eve drew the paddle back and then delivered the blow. Quinn grunted, but didn't cry out. As Eve stepped back and handed the paddle back to Syn, Quinn actually smiled at her.

"The paddle is easier," he whispered, "All you have to do is not tense up."

"I'm guilty too," said a man's voice.

Cassie turned her head to see Eve's wiry, taller companion. He took the paddle from Syn but then walked around the other side of the cross. With a jolt of apprehension, Cassie realised that the next blow would be for her.

"Breathe," Quinn hissed, "Relax."

Cassie drew in a deep breath. She could sense that Adam was waiting for her, choosing his moment carefully, making sure she was ready. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she had strapped herself to a cross for the very first time and was surrounded by people who had been doing this all their lives. It seemed that all the teasing, the blindfolds, the ropes, all of that had been an introduction, an on-ramp to a different world. Naked and helpless in the glare of the spotlight, Cassie felt like she was finally part of it, past the point of ever going back.

The blow landed on her bottom and she gasped at the shock. Instantly, she realised that Adam hadn't hit her too hard. He could have, he certainly had the strength. He stepped back.

"Next?" Syn asked.

The minutes that followed were surreal for Cassie. A steady progression of men and women made their way onto the stage, choosing either Quinn or Cassie and delivering their punishment. Cassie endured the assault, because that's what it was. That was Quinn's point. Her eyes never left his as they both chose to endure the pain.

It was always the paddle for Cassie, but for Quinn, occasionally Syn would hand the cane to the next in line. Quinn endured the agony, thanking those people by name, so that Cassie began to understand the relationships playing out in front of her. At the last, a man she didn't recognise with dark curly hair and ebony eyes laid into him powerfully with a full six until Quinn howled. Syn made no attempt to restrain his actions.

Sobbing, Quinn shuddered in his restraints afterwards. Cassie saw Syn nod to the man again but instead of stepping away he leaned close to whisper into Quinn's ear.

"For Alena," was all he said, before stepping back and striking Quinn again, raining the final blow down viciously on the sobbing man. As the blow landed, Quinn's body gave out, his legs giving way and leaving him dangling by his wrists, weeping freely.

"Are you okay?" Cassie whispered, distraught herself at his suffering.

Quinn drew in a long, shuddering breath and finally raised his head. His face was red, creased with grief, pushed now somewhere way beyond the cross, the stage, the club, out of the present moment and back towards a memory.

"Oh my poor, sweet love," he gasped, his eyes unfocused, "May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

---

Upstairs, in Syn's office, Syn uncorked a bottle of whiskey and placed four glasses on the table. She looked around the room. Quinn and Ally both nodded, and then Cassie did too. In response, Syn poured out four measures and handed them out.

"A wild night," Syn announced, raising her glass, "To absent friends."

Each person took a sip, then Syn went over to a shelf to collect a small white jar. She handed it to Ally.

"Thanks," Ally said, kneeling down behind her man. Like Cassie, his nakedness was covered by a flannel bath robe. Cassie watched as Ally gently pulled the fabric aside to reveal the angry red and purple landscape of his buttocks.

"Yves was severe, there at the end," Ally murmured as she unscrewed the top of the jar and dabbed her fingers into the white cream. "You even allowed him another go."

She began to dab the cream across Quinn's buttocks. Quinn winced as she touched a deeper weal where the skin had been split.

"Sorry, honey," she muttered.

Cassie watched in silence, her own bottom still throbbing from the paddling she had allowed others to inflict upon her. She was still trying to process it, shocked at how it had felt so right, offering herself as another victim rather than taking up the cane and inflicting more pain. She felt a hand snake around her waist and looked up from the tender scene before her to see Syn's arms encircling her.

"You were quite a revelation tonight," Syn told her, "Are you feeling okay?"

The blue-grey eyes were kindly, concerned.

"Yes," Cassie replied. "It hurt, but I'm okay."

She sipped her whiskey, feeling the tightness in her chest subside as the adrenaline left her body and she relaxed into Syn's embrace.

Ally finished smoothing the ointment onto Quinn's tortured rear and screwed the lid back onto the jar. She placed it on the floor but made no move to get up from her knees. Quinn turned to face her.

"Ally, what's the matter? Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Ah, that's right. I'm supposed to be the one asking you that."

Her head drooped, her fingers twisting around themselves in her lap. Quinn placed a hand on her head.

"I'm the one supposed to be taking care of you," she continued.

"You just did, Ally, and I'll be right as rain in a few days."

Ally shook her head. "I fucked it up though, didn't I? Syn understood, but I was just oblivious."

Quinn cupped her chin, tilting her head back so she could look at him.

"Alena would have known," Ally whispered.

At this, Quinn knelt down in front of her, cradling her head in his arms.

"You know what this is, Ally. You're just in the drop, it's not real. You were wonderful."

Cassie watched the two of them in silence, seeing how Ally's shoulders trembled.

"It was a lot to ask. I should have been clearer, but I hadn't planned a scene. It just happened," Quinn continued, "And I have to say, your aim was superb."

Quinn chuckled and Ally responded in his arms.

"See? All good."

Quinn looked up at Syn. "Could you call us a cab? I need to get someone home."

Syn nodded and brought out her phone. While she was ordering, Quinn got Ally to her feet and then began to dress himself, wincing as he pulled his boxer shorts up over his discoloured buttocks. When he was finally dressed, he came over to Cassie and gave her a hug.

"You never cease to surprise me, Cassidy Hayes," he murmured into her ear.

"Cab's downstairs," Syn announced, "By the rear entrance."

"How apt," Quinn laughed, threading his arm through Ally's and leading her out.

When they were gone, Syn and Cassie stood together in the middle of the office in silence. Cassie's thoughts drifted, recalling the way that it had felt, to be so completely exposed and vulnerable. It had been so unlike the night she'd exposed herself on that same stage in front of Damian and his friends, the potency she'd felt in commanding their unwavering attention with her nakedness.

Then, she'd been high on the power trip, out for revenge on her cheating husband for humiliating her. It had been so raw, her revenge so savage. It had been so wrong. She had cut her own husband, the father of her children, to the bone. Cassie had abandoned her ethics and had lost herself in the moment. It had taken a very long time to even have a basic conversation with him again.

Here, once more, the stage had wielded its power over her, pushing her beyond herself, as if the Lost and Found itself was playing the master, and all the occupants its puppets. She remembered the intense connection she had felt to Quinn, as if he had carried them both through it all by sheer force of will. She remembered watching it up close, in such intimate detail, in every line of his face. She remembered the pain also, of the strangers' blows, but unlike what Quinn had been made to endure, hers were only symbolic rather than severe: people who had come forward to declare themselves part of it, a parade of the guilty.

"Come home with me tonight," Syn said.

Cassie shook her head, "I'm too sore."

"I didn't mean for anything more than to share the bed."

"I have to collect the boys in the morning. I have to go to Damian's and, uh, Lily's."

Cassie shuddered a little. It was still so hard. Syn paused, assessing.

"Cassidy, you've just been through something. I want to give you some love and attention."

The way she said it seemed business-like, almost formal, but Cassie could read beyond the words to the intention behind.

"Would you let me take care of you?" she asked, lowering her voice. "I make excellent hot chocolate."

Cassie smiled. "Now you've got me just where you want me," she said.

---

[Next chapter: Adam takes Eve on a weekend away. Eve takes the opportunity to pry into his mysterious past.

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