“Unbelievable, unbelievable! I’ve never been so ashamed in my life!”

Marisa tried to pull her arm away but couldn’t. Her mother had a firm grip on it as she used her free hand to take another glass of champagne from a shackled and gagged slave girl, quickly drinking it.

“Mother are you serious! You’ve let these people harass me, joke about enslaving me, grope me for goodness sake! And through all of that I stayed calm and when some perv finally goes to far I’m in the wrong!”

Julie stared at Marisa, cupping her cheek as she looked at her with a disappointed expression. “Here you are.” She shook her head grabbing a hold of Marisa’s arm again. “Where you are manners sweetheart, I told you just ignore him. Now I have to do damage control.” She paused. “We both need to take deep breaths and-”

“Julie!” A voice cried. Her mother stopped, turning her head she forced a smile on her face, they were closer to the front of the room now.

“Mister Chainhill! So nice to see you.” She said pulling Marisa over to where they were standing face to face with an older man. Appeared to be around fifty, so in Dracon he was likely sixty. With greying hair that was still thick, a clean shaven face, dark eyes, with a strong jaw but soft cheeks. He was handsome no doubt, even at his age he could entice younger women. Marisa found him attractive no doubt.

“So nice to see you Miss Julie!” Chainhill replied. He looked at Marisa and put on a smile. A warm one as opposed to the other’s predatory looks. “This must be your daughter. Stunning truly Julie.” Julie nodded thanking him. “Heard she’s a spitfire, put a slap onto Alridge’s cheek!”

Julie blushed. “I am so sorry about that Mister Chainhill she should not have done that-” Chainhill waved her off with a laugh.

“Oh don’t worry about that Julie. Alridge is brash and arrogant. Do not get me wrong. He is smart, determined, and an asset to Dracon. But still young and can be a fool. I do not blame your daughter for giving him a smack he deserved.”

“Finally someone gets it.” Marisa muttered.

Chainhill laughed again. “Yes you have a privileged the other girls who are getting groped tonight do not. Cant blame you for using it.” He said, spreading his arms and looking around the room. Marisa actually had her stomach drop as she realized that. Chainhill still smiled warmly. “How are you enjoying the party besides Alridge, young Marisa?” He asked looking at Marisa.

He held up a hand as Julie tried to speak. “Well I must say I’m not a fan of slavery. I have to be honest, though my mother looks like she might faint.”

Chainhill stifled a chuckle. “Oh I’m head of the company her company is negotiating with. This is my party, my mansion.” He said with a smile.

“Oh.” Marisa muttered. “I-”

Chainhill waved her off. “Do not fret my dear. I enjoy these parties but its because I was raised with them since I was barely your age if that! I do not blame you for being uncomfortable. Still hope you can find some quality enjoyment from the evening.” He said, sounding sincere. Marisa was almost taken aback, this was a giant change of pace from the prior conversations.

“I- well. The views of the coast are incredible mister Chainhill. No one over rates that view.” Chainhill smiled and nodded as she said this. “And the decorations are- interesting.” She said, looking around trying to come up with something else. Eventually motioning to an X frame device on the wall near the piano.

Chainhill laughed. “Ah yes, the X frame, or St Andrews cross as the older generation might call it.” Marisa couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Oh my dear I meant older generation from when I was your age.”

Julie couldn’t help but intervene in the conversation at this point. Having been nervous with every word Marisa spoke. “It is very interesting Mister Chainhill. How does it work.”

Chainhill suppressed a chuckle and lightly shrugged in his two button suit. “Its simple, see those cuffs?” The two Americans nodded. “You strap a slave into them, then they’re helpless for a flogging, or cropping. Can be used to dish out punishment or for entertainment.”

Marisa now regretted pointing to it but her mother was intrigued. “Ah that is very interesting. I take it that it works quite well in that role?”

Chainhill nodded. “Oh no doubt about that dear Juliet.” He said.

Her mother paused for a moment. “I do wish we could see a demonstration.” She said, a grin creeping across her face.

Chainhill smiled back. “Of a slave being restrained or being punished?”

Julie’s grin was very broad at this point. “Oh I think both things are in order.” Marisa’s heart started to race, her stomach tightening at this point. “I mean I think I have the perfect volunteer here.” She said, this time it was her own mother popping Marisa’s bottom as she was pushed forward. Chainhill’s expression didn’t change.

“Interesting choice I do say.”

“Mother once again I have to say that you cant be serious! Ignoring that this party is full of people that also is-”

Julie held a finger to her lips. “You embarrassed me and acted rude, I think this is fair. Wouldn’t you agree Marisa?”

Chainhill chuckled. “This is an interesting conversation. To say the least, but Alridge already told me he was putting Andrea up there.”

“Oh no, certainly we can replace her with Marisa!” Her mother replied, Marisa’s eyes went wide, honestly more due to the fact she realized her ‘oh no’ wasn’t in response to the fact that Andrea would be tortured soon, but that it would be her and not Marisa. She had never seen her mother so callous before.

Chainhill raised an eyebrow. “I mean perhaps. Alridge is only doing so in order to blow off some steam from that little slap of her’s.” Marisa wanted to go pale, though her brown skin limited that. Knowing that her flare up in anger, however justified, was now going to be used to justify torturing a poor girl around her own age. She understood a bit more clearly what her mother said about the culture. “Granted I think Alridge wants to see a pretty latina flogged more than he wants to see one tied up.

Julie beamed at this. “That is fine!” Marisa was frozen in shock. “Trust me I’d love to see you do a demonstration on a flogging technique on Marisa! I’m sure her yelps will be lovely! Poor Andrea doesn’t deserve to be punished for my daughter’s outburst! However justified it might have been.”

“Mom.” Marisa muttered, her voice soft.

Chainhill meanwhile paused. “Well, I'd have to get Marisa here to agree to do it.” He said. “Being flogged on the belly and thighs can be quite painful depending on the force used. We have to figure that out as well.” Julie looked at him with an almost annoyed expression.

“This is a demonstration, the normal force is fine. Besides in a way she’s being punished for her own mistake so it shouldn’t be easier than a normal slave.”

“I understand, and you arent off the mark.” Chainhill replied.

“Mom.” Marisa muttered again.

Julie spun on her heel and looked at her daughter with a stern but calm expression. “Marisa, you caused a scene. And because of that that poor girl is going to be flogged raw!” Marisa didn’t notice how only now Andrea was a ‘poor girl’, for she felt a lot of shame herself. “So, you can either stand here with a front row seat for every lash or you can take her place.” She paused. “What is it going to be sweetheart?”

Marisa thought for a moment. Her mind racing. She didn’t want this, in front of everyone being flogged. She knew Alridge, Geoff, Ariel would all watch. No doubt in glee. But at the same time she was causing Andrea’s punishment, she could replace her. Fix her mistake. Andrea suffered plenty, and she had unwittingly caused her even more. She crossed her arms, rubbing them as she felt nauseous and nervous. “Okay. Okay.”

“What was that?” Her mother asked.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” She replied timidly.

Julie almost squealed, clapping her hands in glee. “Good! Now, we need to get her out of this dress right?” Chainhill nodded.

“Yes, though the bra and panties can stay on, the heels as well.”

Marisa’s shocked expression wouldn’t leave. “Wha- what?”