‘Okay,’ Shamira thought as she prepared to face a brave new day, ‘I need to get some cotton sheets. This silk stuff really isn’t that comfortable.’ Earlier that night (or morning), she had done things that she never would have imagined herself doing. She had been chained up, physically manhandled, had hot wax tripped all over her, and had been violated in every orifice that she could think of.
The man who had made Shamira a vampire, one Shane Stapleton, had introduced her to a world that had only existed in her fantasies before. He had told her to call herself a whore, and she had. She had enjoyed it. She had enjoyed all of it. Now, she was wondering what the hell she’d done.
After a set of mind-blowing orgasms and wild sensations, Shane had unchained her and brought her back to her bedroom. Shane always slept, and in reality slept, alone as a security precaution. He was an important vamp and the head of this house, so she understood the precautions. But waking up alone made her think. Was she really ready for this? Yet every time she thought about those moments where she had become an item of sexual pleasure, it made her feel warm inside. So much so that she wanted to touch herself in —
“Buyer’s remorse?” came a soft voice next to her.
Shamira’s eyes shot open and she sat up rapidly in bed. Clara Yellowtail was lying in bed right next to her. “What the heck –”
“I don’t think so,” came a sexy Latin voice behind her. “She smells horny.”
“Gaugh!” Shamira jumped out of bed completely nude. Raul was lying on the other side of the bed, looking very nice. “What are you two doing in here?”
Clara gave her a wicked grin. “Word’s already out about what happened with Shane last night, and you’ve got the collar on.”
Shamira had forgotten about the collar. For something made of iron, it seemed surprisingly non-intrusive. “I . . . uhm . . . yeah.” ‘Crap,’ she thought. ‘Clara is a domme.’ “I’m sorry . . . Mistress –”
Clara laughed. “We’re going to have to work on your reflexes,” she said, clambering out of bed. She was just as nude as Shamira was, and Shamira found herself checking out that lithe, soft, beautiful form. Clara continued. “But Shane said that everyone is to give you breathing room today until after midnight meal. First, he wants you to start researching magical creatures, bring yourself up to speed on the sorts of things you’ll be dealing with. Renata will give you the codes so you can access the server and Mysti-pedia.”
“Mysti-pedia?” Shamira asked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. It’s had other names of course, but when the magical community met the web and started translating the old documents and texts into digital formats, they changed the name. Anyway, it’ll have all the data you need. Also, Shane wanted to give you an evening to relax and make sure you didn’t have any regrets. You don’t, do you?”
Shamira looked at her feet. “I . . . no.” Straightening her shoulders, she reiterated, “No. I guess, it was just a big step. I can’t really believe I actually did it.” She cocked her head. “Why exactly are you in my bed? And him? Not that I’m not pleased to see you, Raul.”
“No sweat. Damn,” he said, looking her over, “I can see why everyone’s been so gung-ho to claim some time with you.”
“No they . . . they’re not really . . . they have?”
Clara grinned. “Oh yes,” she said. “In answer to your question,” she purred, tracing a finger across Shamira’s collarbone, “I’m a dominant. I can wake up with any sub that isn’t already claimed.” She tried to pout, albeit unsuccessfully. “But today, I just thought you might like to have a friendly face when you woke up. Big changes shouldn’t happen alone, and I know Shane’s policy about sleeping alone. He let me know what happened after putting you to bed. I was teaching this young wolf here,” she said, pointing at Raul, “some new tricks, so we finished up and I brought him with me. So here we are,” she said, her fingers drifting down to Shamira’s suddenly erect nipple, “naked and with some time to kill –”
“Except,” Shamira started, her body betraying any attempts to control it, “that Shane wants me to . . . uhm . . . research?” she said.
“Yessssss.” Clara was only half-listening as her fingers made their way down that rock-hard abdomen.
“Mistress Clara,” Raul said, trying not to smirk, “Shane’s instructions –”
“I’m well aware of Shane’s instructions,” she replied, then grinned at Shamira. “I’ll deal with my insolent pup in a moment,” she cooed. “Maybe even in YOUR bed,” she said to the other woman. “But first –” She went over to the intercom and summoned Monique, who showed up in record time with a measuring tape. She examined every inch of Shamira, including some “places” that seemed irrelevant. “For your uniforms,” Clara explained. By the time Monique was done and vacated the room, Clara had retrieved a bag from the hallway. “Presents for you!”
Shamira took the bag and looked inside. A brand new Alienware laptop!
“Reaper said that if you’re a gamer then that’s the kind you’d want.”
“Sweet! A wallet?” she said, pulling out a svelte little black leather wallet. It came complete with three credit cards, a gun license, and a new driver’s license. “Shamira Stapleton?” she asked.
“Yeah, it makes it easier on the paperwork. You know we get medical and dental, right?” Clara’s face remained stoic for a few minutes, then she broke out laughing when Shamira looked perplexed. “Just kidding. But you do have a new history, including a college degree, work history, etc. Just in case you get questioned by authorities.”
“Crap!” Shamira said. “What if it’s someone I know?”
“One, I doubt any of those guys would recognize the new, more confident, highly sexual babe that is you. Two, people will laugh it off as deja vu.” She patted Shamira on the ass. “Now get dressed, according to Shane’s instructions. No more sweats.” She bit her bottom lip. “Something with a thong. Unless you want to wander around naked.”
Shamira grumbled as she pulled on some black boy short panties, blue jeans too tight and too low-riding to be decent, and a black tube top. Then she noticed three boxes in her closet that hadn’t been there yesterday. “My boots!” Shane had apparently ordered her two pairs past the ones she had asked for. Custom-made leather boots that felt like a dream. Rugged, stylish, and far too comfortable.
“Oh, I got you one more thing,” Clara said, almost sounding a little nervous. She pulled another box out from the top of the closet. “I knew you said you used to have a lucky hat,” she continued. “Maybe this one will be lucky too.”
It was gorgeous in Shamira’s eyes. It was a black leather cowboy hat with a laced leather band with concho accents and tails, and a gold center concho with some writing on the front. It read, “Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical.”
“Shane thought you’d like the inscription.”
Shamira put the hat on, and it fit as well as everything else. Clara put a hand on her comrade’s shoulder and turned her to face a mirror. Shamira had never seen that woman before. The clothes showed off the body, and the body looked good. The boots and the hat . . . ‘Damn, I look good!’ she thought, actually turning a bit to get a better look at her ass. ‘Damn good!’ The hungry look on Clara’s face showed that the girl was in complete agreement.
“You’re off the sexual clock until midnight,” the smaller woman said, “so let’s go out this evening. Grab dinner out. What do you think?”
“I think I know just the place,” Shamira replied. She smiled at her friend. “See you at nine or so?” Then she went off to the lounge with her new laptop, ready to do some research while Clara played with Raul in Shamira’s bed.
———- ——————–
That night . . .
———- ——————–
“So what is this place?” Clara asked as they walked into a bar just a block off of Marietta Square. It had an Irish folk band playing in one corner, and there were a bunch of tables lined up next to each other.
“McCarens,” Shamira replied, looking around. “They’ve got good fries, and speed dating on Saturday night.”
Clara, Henry, and Raul all stopped and looked at her. “Speed dating?”
“Hey, I was here a year ago and . . . and I left without any numbers,” she said with a growl. “I want to see if this vampire mojo actually works.”
Henry raised his hand as if he was going to say something, but Clara waved him off. They’d let Shamira do this her way.
They sat down and waited for things to start. “So, you do this sort of thing a lot?”
She shrugged. “I did, but I realized it didn’t seem to work for me.”
“So what’d you do with your free time?” Raul asked.
“I dunno. Did a lot of hiking and backpacking. North Georgia is great for that sort of thing.”