Free Sybil Disobedience by Brynn Paulin Page A

Rob, stern-faced, with two of Kellon’s security personnel behind him.
    “Sybil Anderson,” he announced, “you are being taken into custody for your unacceptable actions toward your Dom and breaking the rules of this club in regard to befitting behavior. You will be judged by a panel of your peers and submit to punishment as we see fit.”
    Butterflies took off inside her. She didn’t want someone else deciding her fate. That was only up to Kellon. Before she could stop this, the guards stepped forward and grasped her arms. She soon had chains secured around her wrists.
    “No, let me,” Kellon interjected when one produced a blindfold. Taking the cloth, he stepped before her.
    “Don’t let them do this,” Syb begged. “You own me.”
    Holding her gaze, he lifted the black silk. And that’s your answer, she thought as he fastened it in place, his face her last sight before the world went black and she was roughly yanked away from him. She stumbled along with her captors, damning the fact she’d worn the five-inch pumps today.
    But then…
    These shoes had been Kellon’s idea, as had all her clothes today. She’d emerged from the shower this morning to find him on the phone, all the garments he’d picked for her placed on the bed beside him—a black and white halter and a micro-skirt that zipped up the side and barely covered her. No panties. No bra of any sort.
    She’d stood for inspection as he’d circled her, running his fingers over her body. She’d shivered as he circled the bruise from a bite on her upper breast. He never bit hard enough to break the skin, but she liked how he marked her. His.
    You’re Kellon’s, she thought reassuring herself as her heels clicked on the stage’s wood flooring. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. He won’t let anyone touch you. No one will hurt you.
    Hadn’t he proved that even when they’d been parted? Even when she’d claimed to have a new Dom, he’d exerted his possession. Now that she had recommitted to him, not even their boss could step in to let anyone else touch her though she’d seen it happen. Sometimes, subs were subjected to punishments for their public transgressions, and their Dom’s let others do the whipping. It seemed harsh, but she knew the people in question and understood that was their thing. It wasn’t Kellon’s or hers.
    Trust Kellon, she thought, trying to calm her apprehensions.
    Soft fabric brushed her body as she was brought to a small dais in the center. She’d seen this enough times to know what was happening even without her vision. She stood on an octagon platform, sheer, white chiffon drapes surrounding her. The stage’s heavy green velvet curtain blocked her from view.
    For now.
    “Ladies. Gentlemen,” Rob announced out front. “You’ve been called here for the trial of Sybil Anderson. You’ve heard the charges—”
    “I’d like to hear the charges,” she muttered.
    “—and the testimony presented by me, Peter McBride via video conferencing and Kellon her Dom via phone.”
    Kellon had taken an active part in this? Outrage vibrated through her until she remembered he’d promised delayed reparation for Peter and her treatment of her real Dom. It had never come up this weekend, and she’d thought she’d dodged that bullet.
    And Peter. Just see if she’d ever make him another costume or repair one he’d damaged in a display of virility.
    She heard the heavy main curtain pull back, leaving her shrouded only by chiffon.
    “Sybil,” Rob said. “What say you to these accusations?”
    “I haven’t heard them,” she snapped. A low murmuring rumble rolled through the audience gathered.
    “I think that says it all,” he replied. His voice raised a note. “I call for the vote. How find you, friends?”
    “Guilty,” they cried. “Guilty!”
    Had she expected anything else, she wondered as the calls continued. She’d never witnessed anyone found innocent. Club members and staff liked a show.
    She heard the