They were standing on the step outside Laura’s front door; her in the slutty top and shorts, Sasha and Jake in the standard student uniform of jumper and jeans. The late afternoon air was chilly and Laura shivered.
Sasha held out the red vinyl shoulder bag. “Find the front door key and give it to me,” she ordered. Laura did as she was told, hunting in an internal side pocket and handing over the key. Sasha turned the key in the lock and opened the door. It felt weird, being let into her own house by someone else, but Laura didn’t object. She tottered down the hallway on her high heels, leading the way to the kitchen.
There were tins of cat food piled up in a cupboard. Laura opened one as a large ginger cat clattered through the cat flap. It trotted over and rubbed itself against her legs, mewing excitedly.
“Hello, Freddy,” Laura said, bending down and giving him a tickle behind his ears.
“Just feed the fucking thing,” Sasha said impatiently. “We haven’t got all day.”
Laura emptied the tin into a plastic dish and put it down in front of the fridge. She refreshed a bowl of water and topped up a plate of dry food. “He’s not a thing,” she said resentfully. “He’s a living animal and he’s entitled to affection and kindness like anyone else.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jake said, as he wandered round opening cupboards and looking inside. “You’d better get the clothes you need for work tomorrow and anything you need from the bathroom. If you’ve got a case, you could take a few other clothes, if you’ve got anything we like.”
They found a small suitcase and Laura was allowed to fill a sponge bag with toiletries and makeup. She collected the clothes she would need for work and a few other pieces that the doms approved of, ironically some of them things she’d been given by her old master.
It was Sasha, investigating the contents of Laura’s dressing table, who found the old wooden hairbrush. She held it up so Jake could see. “She was insolent downstairs, I think an old fashioned spanking would do her good.”
Laura gasped and almost lost her balance. She was eleven years old. There were four of them: Clare, Sandy and Jane were the real gang, or so it seemed to Laura. They let her tag along, on condition that, if anyone was going to be captured and tied up, it would be her. She was an only child and didn’t have other friends, so these would have to do.
Clare was the bossy one, the leader, and the others followed along with whatever she wanted. She liked to play schools and was always the teacher. They played that game in Laura’s bedroom, because she had the perfect hairbrush for spanking. Sandy and Jane would find a way to get her into trouble and then she would get a licking, as Clare called it, until her bottom was red and she cried.
It turned out, as Laura discovered later, that Clare’s parents believed in physical discipline. She would get the hairbrush from her mother and, if that didn’t have the desired effect, her father used his belt.
Laura slithered out of her shorts and lay across Sasha’s lap, with her hands on the floor. She felt the cold, smooth wood against her skin as her mistress measured the stroke. Laura braced herself for the first impact. She remembered too well what it would feel like, but at least she was prepared.
It was worse than she remembered. Now the blows were being dealt by a fit young woman and not a slightly overweight child. Afterwards she was allowed to fix her makeup and put on a dress that Sasha selected, instead of the slutty top and shorts. It was a knitted fabric with long sleeves, which would be warmer outside, though still short and skin tight. They didn’t allow her any underwear.
She had to stand on the step while Sasha turned the key in the lock. To Laura it felt like being shut out of her home, like she no longer lived there. The loss of security frightened her, but she followed the doms up the road, the cold air making her nipples stand out under the dress. She dragged her case to the stop on its small wheels and stood between Sasha and Jake, waiting for the bus.