The "Sarge" wasn't really active any more in the service. He did some consulting now and then, and he had a favored group of cronies that he played poker with. All in all, almost a stereotypical, brusque, older military man type.
With a few "quirks," as Dan had noted.
Things were staying quiet at the Winnebago's site, for which Anthony was glad. Anna seemed calmer, and with Mama San and Auntie K gone most of the time now with new friends to play MahJong, it was peaceful. Anthony had started fishing at times now. Anna sometimes left with Mama San, sometimes went into town for hours. He suspected that at times she drove to Atlanta and talked to Them. He never asked.
Dan and Roger had brought Sarge with them the next time they were free to visit, and the Sarge seemed taken by Shawn. After she'd had sex with Dan and Roger, the Sarge had played with her, getting her to sit on his lap facing him, roving his hands over her, pinching here and there, stroking. He was quiet, but smiling. Dan frowned.
A few days later Anna entered the Winnebago with Bambi and Bunni in tow, furious. She waved a note at Anthony, demanding to know why he hadn't been watching and paying more attention? She'd gotten a note from the Sarge, a pleasant note. It was an invitation to his small farm, on the outskirts of Savannah. He had a few horses, a small acreage really, an isolated quaint, lovely old home.
The invitation mentioned his friendship with the local sheriff, and how careful the Sarge would be NOT to mention the little group's private SM demos.
Anna was fuming.
"Now we have to go!"
"But honey-"
"Don't you `honey' me! You should have been watching!" She smacked the table with the note, the envelope flying. She paced, thinking. They couldn't draw any more attention to themselves. They didn't dare let the sheriff bring in an investigation. She sighed. They would have to go.
Anna let Mama San punish the twins. She couldn't afford to let her do anything more to Shawn at this point. So she let Mama San loose on the twins to vent her anger, and Anna told Auntie K to make sure the girl was ready.
Mama San, Auntie K, and Anna drove with Shawn to the Sarge's house a few days later. When they arrived, he met them himself. Two men were nearby, working on a tractor. The women went inside to a large, cool room, pleasantly decorated. The Sarge was eyeing Shawn.
Sarge was tall and bulky, still wearing a crew cut which showed gleams of sunburned white skin through its graying thatches; he favored wearing short-sleeved t-shirts and his fatigues and boots when he was in what he thought of as his "hunting" mode. Today, he was definitely hunting. He'd had ideas, several of them, and he was excited. He knew something was wrong, something needed to be kept quiet about the black-haired young woman, and he had used that to bring them to his home.
He was, Anna thought, like a great white spider, drawing them into his web. She hated the whole thing. She was the one who should be in charge.
They had a light lunch, but Sarge insisted that Shawn remove her skirt. He had her to stand near him before they ate, and he looked at her, turning her this way and that. Even Mama San was quiet, her black eyes suspicious and sharp.
Sarge was finally satisfied with one of Shawn's usual outfits, this time the black leather: boots over the knees, very sheer silky thigh hi hose with a darker band that fitted snugly at the tops of the thighs. Collar, wrist and ankle cuffs. He nodded. Gold waist chain, he liked that. He insisted that Mama San fit a clit clamp to the end of the chain and hook it to the base of Shawn's clit, so it tugged and pulled when she straightened up. Nipple nooses, he liked that. He had lots of ideas about those. He flicked one and watched it puff up a little more, and he asked Mama San to tighten the little nooses. She did. He let Shawn keep on the little half-jacket of black leather during lunch.
They ate, the two men who had been working on the tractor entering later and joining them. They goggled at Shawn but said nothing.
When they were done, he led the women and two men outside to a small barn. They entered, and one of the workers brought out a tall horse. The Sarge explained.
"I want her to ride on this horse's back," he said. He pointed at Shawn. "I want to see if she gets off." He was excited, and his voice quivered slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked annoyed at that.
A thin blanket was put on the horse's back, then Shawn was hoisted up and astride. They took the horse outside to a small corral, one of the men leading it. Shawn clung to the horse's mane. At one point, Sarge had the man to make the horse break into a trot, and Shawn bounced gently on the horse's back, but it was not quite the reaction Sarge had hoped for. He stopped them and had them to pull her off.
"You," he said, pointing at Mama San. "The guys told me you had something you could put on her. You bring it?" She was angry, but looking at Anna, Mama San nodded.
"Here," said the Sarge. He pulled a small box off a shelf near him. "Put these in her, too." Mama San snatched the box and stomped off into the house, dragging Shawn with her.
"And make sure you don't stint on that pussy juice, old woman!" shouted the Sarge. He grinned at Anna. Auntie K had gone into the house, panting and waddling after Mama San.
