Ep4

There were a number of people standing or kneeling around watching. She recognized Monique, who was on her knees on a pillow nearby, and her look could only be described as envious. Kneeling next to her was another blond Caucasian male who was so Aryan it was almost scary. He was six feet tall and trim, more toned than muscled. He was dressed in black leather from his boots to his pants to his vest. Under the vest was a white silk shirt that would've looked at home at a renaissance fair, and an iron collar. Next to him was a Hispanic man who should have been on a Mexican soap opera. He had the "come-hither" eyes and pouty lips and everything. All he had on was a pair of leather shorts and an iron collar.

'Okay, iron collar means submissive,' she thought. 'Check.' There was an iron collar on the green-eyed redheaded female wearing a robe that Elvira Mistress of the Dark would have considered risqué. She also had those damn freckles that could drive men mad for no apparent reason, and her lips were full and inviting.

Behind those iron-ring clad folk that were kneeling were two men and a woman, and these had to be the doms (or dommes, if you prefer). One was dressed in black cowboy boots, leather pants and an ankle-length duster. The Marlboro Man face and unkempt brown hair was capped off with a wide-brimmed cowboy hat of which Shamira was jealous. When not on duty, she had a cowboy that she wore almost every time she left the house. It saddened her to think of what her folk might have done with it. They never liked it, considering it "unladylike."

Next to the cowboy was an Asian woman who looked as delicate as a flower, except for the black leather corset, black silk g-string and thigh-high stiletto boots, black lipstick, and hair done up with a skull-shaped tail-holder. The third standing man actually made her more nervous than the rest. He was a bald black male, and he almost filled the room with his presence. He seemed so much more solid than the others, and his muscles were almost as bulky and defined on him as Shamira's were on her. And he was still . . . so dreadfully still. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he knew she was there. This was the sort of guy nothing slipped by.

The man who was fucking the captive girl pulled out, his member pointing angrily at the place it wanted to revisit. He raised the leather strap in his hand and brought it down sharply against her ass cheeks. She didn't make a sound.

"Banshee," the man said calmly, "please remind me of Renata's title."

"Chief of Security," the Asian woman replied, almost purring the words.

"And yet five members of an opposing organization were able to approach me with weapons and, at least in their minds, get the drop on me." He slapped the girl's ass hard with his hand this time, then hit the other cheek. Next he grabbed the belt around her waist and pulled his length back into her pussy, pounding at her with little apparent regard for her wellbeing.

Shamira clenched a fist. 'So she made a mistake,' she thought angrily. 'That's no excuse to --' Suddenly, Shamira was not alone . Clara had appeared at her side, but covered the woman's mouth before she could screech in surprise. Clara's lips were very close to the back of her hand and Shamira's face when she whispered to the muscular woman to shush.

"In our world, not everything is as it appears," Clara whispered.

"He's basically raping her for screwing up on the job?"

Clara's eyes darkened. "Be very, very careful on how you use that word around here. Her face softened. "But again, there is no reason you would know. The dominant is Shane Stapleton, and he is your sire and founder of this House. The woman is Renata de Souza, Chief of Security, and she is far from an unwilling participant. She's a switch."

"Either dominant or submissive, right? But what does --"

"What happened the night you were killed was in no way Renata's fault and Shane knows this. He actually was more trusting than she wanted to be and ignored several of her suggestions by meeting his adversaries where he did. He does not hold her responsible for his own mistake."

"Then why is he doing this to her?" Shamira was really confused.

"It took her a couple of days to convince him that it was her fault and that she should be punished."

Shamira was floored. "She wanted this?!" was her heated whisper.

"Oh yes. She hasn't had an opportunity to be a sub for a while and wanted the experience again. Neither her life, health, or even job is in any danger. Shane was taking personally how bad things went, so she thought this might cheer him up." Clara smiled. "She's just a bit of a hussy. I suppose most of us are, but she's in heat most of the time. And she's perky too. It gets a little annoying after awhile." But Clara didn't sound all that annoyed. Her voice reflected genuine affection. "She's a werejaguar, by the way."

"She turns into a jaguar? That's so cool!" Shamira couldn't believe she said that.

"And a gorgeous jaguar at that. She's Brazilian, and werejaguars are more common down there. But the werecats are rare breeds regardless, and Shane is lucky to have her. So to speak." She placed a hand on Shamira's arm. "I promise you, this is about unwinding rather than punishment. She will be quite satisfied by the time he's done with her. She climaxed three times before I went looking for you."

'Three times?!' Shamira thought. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.

"Have you never experienced multiple releases in a single session?" Clara asked innocently.

Shamira blushed through and through. She'd never climaxed during sex at all.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," her companion said. "Shame." She looked at the muscular woman next to her. "If I had you beneath my thumb and heel, you'd be begging me to stop because you simply couldn't cum anymore."

The other woman had absolutely no response to that. So the two of them watched from the safety of the hallway as Shane continued his relentless assault, filling her up before withdrawing and laying leather against her exposed back. Shamira started to hear noises that made her think the woman was gagged. She was moaning, and not in a complaining kind of way. For the first time, she noticed that Renata de Souza's inner thighs were glistening with the remnants of those orgasms that Clara had eluded to.

Shane withdrew and replaced his dick with his fingers, probing her greedy sex while thrusting his thumb into her anus. With his other hand, he slapped her ass with the leather strip. She was moaning harder as pain and pleasure were meted out with equal enthusiasm, and soon she was cumming again. She wasn't so much standing on her legs as much as hanging from the belt and attached chain. Shamira watched the girl's body twitch and tremble.

"Normally I would punish you more for not asking permission," Shane said, bending down and brushing her hair away, "but I will forgive you that this time." The girl had a ball-gag in her mouth. And she looked utterly satisfied that Shamira was dumbstruck. Clara had been telling the truth.

Shane returned to his position behind her and plunged into her again. A few strokes later and he arched his back, sending his seed into her welcoming body. Shamira couldn't help but admire how cute his ass was as it flexed, encouraging every last drop of his sperm to find refuge inside Renata. After he was suitable finished, he donned a pair of dress slacks and tucked in his shirt. "You will remain here until eleven a.m. to think about your failure. You will then be released and allowed to join us for lunch."

Shamira checked a wall clock and saw that the Brazilian beauty would only be trussed up for another twenty minutes, so she didn't think it would be too uncomfortable for her. All Shamira could do at that point was admit that she had never had the look on her face that Renalta was sporting. Not even in those fantasies that even scared her.

"So you know Shane now, and Monique and Renata," Clara started.

"The Japanese chick is Banshee, right?"

"Correct. Renata is the Chief of Security, and I'm actually party of the security team. Monique and Lillian, the redhead, are also on the security team. No, I don't know why all the live-in security are girls. Shane has straight human security, but they don't actually live here. All of them know what we are, but none seem to mind. Big paychecks and benefits seem to help. Lillian and Monique were lovers before ever coming to work for Shane. Lillian's a switch too, but Shane's the only male she allows to dominate her. Oh, and Lillian's also a human necromancer."

"Necromancer?"

"She can raise zombies, talk to ghosts and other dead, and she can heal the undead. Useful to have around. She's our primary conduit to Jeremiah."

"Which one's he?"

"Oh, you can't see him. He's a poltergeist. Actually, he's part of the security team too . . . in a way. He's somehow attached to the land this house is built on, but don't worry. If you have permission to be here, he'll leave you alone."

Shamira gulped. "Great. Poltergeist."

"Yeah. So if you see a television on in the break room, don't turn it off. He loves soap operas." Then, as if that wasn't a weird conversation stopper, Clara continued. "Cowboy guy there is Henry. He's a dom. The ones standing are doms if you haven't figured that out, and the kneeling ones are submissives. Lillian and Renata are the only two switches. Anyway, Henry and the blond guy on his knees, whose name is Bjorne, are both enforcers. Means basically they run errands, interact with the public and help keep the peace. You and Henry have a lot in common. He was a sheriff back in his mortal days. Both he and Bjorne are vampires: Bjorne is a shadow and Henry is a fledgling, but only for another six months."