“Camping with my folks when I was eight,” Shamira said, finally dropping the napkin and facing her gleeful dinner companions. I stumbled into a set of webs the size of Montana, and I wound up with a dozen of those evil little buggers all over me. I couldn’t think of a way to get rid of them, so I went charging into the creek, which was fuh-REE-zing.”
Clara started laughing so hard that she fell out of her chair.
“Some decorum, young woman,” Shane said, staring at the ground where his shaman was rolling around, thinking of a soaked, shivering, and arachnid-addled little version of Shamira.
“I’m scared to death of heights,” Raul admitted, that sexy Latin accent making even the admission of fear sound intriguing.
“Water,” Henry said. “Or at least any body of water big enough to contain a shark.”
“I love the water!” Renata said. “You know you’re more likely to be struck by lightning than attacked by a shark.”
Lillian seemed to be listening to nothing, which probably meant that the resident poltergeist Jeremiah was talking to her. “Jeremiah says he was afraid of closed spaces.” She looked perplexed. “I’m not even going to try and explain that to them.”
“Heights –”
“Not a damn thing –”
The midnight dinner was one thing that Shamira looked forward to everyday. Everyone was just who they were. No roles, no jobs, no hierarchy, and no rules. But towards the end of dinner, she saw people start to make eye contact. Lillian was probably going to go domme for the night and claim her longtime lover and girlfriend. Shamira had wondered how you “shared” your significant other, but they seemed to think it was perfectly natural. They took the top spot in each other’s personal hierarchy, but there were many branches in those hierarchies. Clara and Henry were going into town to hook up with regular donors.
Apparently everyone, including the subs, were not only allowed but encouraged to find willing blood donors and sexual partners outside of the house, seeing as vampires could only feed off each other for so long before their blood went stale. They could do blood pouches, but the thrill of a living donor was apparently too much to pass up. Shamira had yet to consume blood except via IV when she was injured.
Renata was going hunting up in the North Georgia woods for a few hours and Reaper was going with her. Banshee was going to “entertain” Bjorne for the evening. Being the last member of the in-house security staff, Raul was going to be on the job, meaning he wasn’t allowed to participate in the games.
People began to scatter, leaving Shamira to wander aimlessly through the house. She went to the lounge and tried to play some video games, but it failed to catch her attention. Work out? Why bother! She could turn on the lights and play another nine holes of golf. She decided against it. After playing with Banshee and Shane, she didn’t want to play by herself anymore. She didn’t want to do anything else alone anymore. That was when it hit her. She wasn’t alone.
She’d saved these guys, and they’d saved her. She ate with them, shopped with them, laughed with them, and shared stories with them. She’d been there for less than two weeks, and this place was more comfortable to her than anywhere else she’d ever lived. She wanted to be Shane’s enforcer and . . . and she wanted to tell him that. Yeah, that’s why she decided to go looking for him.
She found him in his office, staring blankly at a computer screen.
“Evening, Miss Carswell,” he said, looking up. “Or morning rather.”
“Hey boss,” she said, emotion caught in her throat. Not fear . . . not this time. Anticipation. Hope even.
He raised an eyebrow. “Boss?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry I’ve been so freaked out recently. I promise, I’ll get better. No more running off. I may not like or even understand why you do things the way you do, but how much right do I have to bitch if I just walk away and do nothing? You keep the peace. And these guys don’t follow you out of fear. They respect you and they like you. I’ve had worse bosses in my life.”
The research that he’d been working on now seemed like the most trivial stuff in the world. He’d been hoping she’d come around, and so she had. She was standing in his office, on her own two feet and without any coercion on his part. He got out of his chair and offered her his hand, which she shook. “You’ll stay on then?”
“Yes Sir. Just point me to the books on all this magical hoo-hah that you guys get mixed up with and I’ll study it.”
He grinned. “I hope you’re a fast learner.”
She glanced downward, forcing the next words out. “I learn quickly, given the right teacher.” She met his eyes again. “I’m your girl, Sir.”
His smile warmed, but his eyes twinkled diabolically. “Are you now?”
“I don’t do things half way. If I’m in,” she said, very aware of what she was saying, “then I’m in all the way. If you’ll have me.” She lowered her face again. She could handle just about anything except rejection at that point. She’d prefer being shot again to that.
He placed his hand under her chin and lifted that proud face and raised it. “I would be honored to have you,” he told her, “and I mean that in every sense of the phrase. You do know that if you do this, it begins now. I’ll expect you to obey all my rules.”
“Yes Sir.”
“And I promise you as I’ve told you before,” he said softly, “that you will not regret it. I and those who dwell within this house will meet those needs so long neglected by a world that never understood you.” He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her.
‘OhsweetMaryMotherofJesusthismanishot!’ she thought, her mind a jumbled mess of heat and longing. He picked her up and pushed her against the wall of his office, keeping her arms pinned to her sides while his tongue danced a luscious tango in her mouth. No one had ever kissed her like they actually meant it. She hoped that this would be just one of many firsts she experienced before sunrise.
Finally he released her, though with a certain degree of regret. “Stay here,” he ordered. He noted with pride that she didn’t move. She was disciplined, and that would make his job easier and her night so much more pleasant. He went over to an armoire and opened the top drawer. From it he drew an iron collar, which he quickly put around Shamira’s neck.
“By accepting this, you are now the property of myself and this house,” he said, standing behind her and kissing her on the neck. He felt her skin shudder. The poor woman was so starved for the touch of someone who actually appreciated her that it wasn’t going to take much. “You will do as I command. If I am not commanding you, then any other dom or domme may use you as they see fit. If none of them is using you, then the switches can. You belong to us and no one else.”
“No one outside of this house may take your reins without our permission, though you may still find donors as per the rules of the house. If you ever feel true fear or don’t feel that you can go on, say ‘Desist.’ This word will work with anyone here. You will be released and no one may touch you again until you have spoken to me. We take care of our belongings here,” he promised her.
He sat behind his desk, keeping an eye on her face. She was nervous, obviously, but not afraid. There was a difference. She probably just wasn’t sure she’d do this right. ‘Silly girl,’ he thought. ‘You couldn’t possibly do this wrong.’ “Sundays will be your days of reflection. You cannot act as a submissive on that day. You can choose an additional night each week if you choose.”
With a less domineering voice, he explained, “It is a mentally as well as physically taxing life sometimes, and you will need the rest. Any other days ‘off’ need to be arrange with me in advance, or with whoever is in charge should I be absent. You will dress according to your station. Tonight, Monique will fit you and provide you with uniforms. You will wear these uniforms at all times that you are on the property.” He smiled. “Even if we’re out golfing. However, you also have a job to do as my enforcer. If you are on a job, then the job is your primary focus. You will refrain from your submissive role until such time as the job is over or if you are in a lull and I say so.” He looked at her from head to toe. Reaching out with his hands, he ripped the clothing from her body.
“No more of these garments, even when you are off the property. You have the body of a goddess, and I want you to show it off. You belong to me, and this –” he started, running his fingers over her breasts and down her tight stomach, “will bring this house great accolades.” It seemed that everywhere his fingers went, goosebumps shot up.
He went over to his desk and hit a button. “Raul, I’m going to be in my personal work room. Hold all my calls unless it’s urgent.” He looked at the amazon standing nude and anxious in his desk. He hit the button again. “Damn urgent. You,” he said, pointing at Shamira, “follow me.”
She did as she was told, and her hands were shaking a bit. ‘Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtodothis Ican’tbelievethatI’mgoingtodothis!’ she thought frantically. She followed him through a door hidden behind his bookshelf. She thought that was supercool, but didn’t think that this would be a good time to point it out. She wondered how many other little secrets this not-so-little house.
He took her into a room that was more than a little intimidating. There was a set of metal shelves against one wall, and there were lamps in each corner providing gentle illumination. That was where the gentleness ended. The floor and walls were covered in tiles that were about one-foot by one-foot. In the center of each was a hinged ring, which were all currently folded down into circular recesses in the tiles. Hanging from the rings in the ceiling were pulleys, chains, and what looked like a power winch. She gulped. Shane grabbed her by the braid of her hair and yanked her head back.