 
Scarlet's Game

Copyright © 2018 by J.S. Wayne  
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof  
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever  
without the express written permission of the author  
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or as

permitted by law for academic or critique purposes.

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition Copyright 2018

ISBN 9780463535066

Smashwords Edition

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Scarlet's Game

On a rainy October night, Scarlet and her succubus concubine Deidre set out to undermine the preternatural power structure of Portland, the Bridge City on behalf of their shadowy Master. Their intended target: the Hunter, Derek, whose mysterious and powerful Order polices the supernatural community. If they can entrap him with Deidre's sexual sorcery, he will become a potent puppet in their bid to ascend to the apex of power within the city. If they fail, they may provoke a war among the supernatural factions of Portland. A single roll of the dice can maintain the status quo or herald its downfall, and determine the ultimate winners or losers of Scarlet's Game...

Scarlet's Game is not intended for decent people, minors, household pets, livestock, household appliances or anything whose name contains any vowel sound. This book contains graphic depictions of BDSM, roleplay, kink and fetishes among and between consenting adults above the age of majority. Some readers may find this material triggering. Readers are cautioned to expect anal play, bondage, Dominance and submission, simulated nonconsent, religious roleplay, post-orgasm play and FF/MM encounters.

Content Warning

This story is a work of fiction. It contains graphic depictions of BDSM dynamics between consenting adults, including but not limited to simulated nonconsent, bondage, impact play, anal sex, lesbian, gay and heterosexual sex acts, religious, vampiric and demonic play.

Readers are strongly cautioned to use their own best judgment as to whether any of the content described above might offend or trigger them in any way. This story is intended for the enjoyment of legal adults over the age of majority in their own jurisdictions and should not be provided to, shared with or viewed by minors or any person under the age of majority at any time or for any reason.

BDSM IS A HIGH-RISK ACTIVITY! It should never be undertaken without rigorous negotiation, explicit and enthusiastic consent, willingness to accept personal responsibility for the results and consequences of such engagement and appropriate training on the part of all parties involved. In the interest of your own health and safety, please do not attempt to replicate anything you read in this story without proper training and safety protocols in place.

# Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Dedications

About the Author

Other Books

# Chapter One

As Deidre scuttled ahead of her, holding up the hem of her violent purple cloak to avoid stumbling over it or dragging it on the ground, Scarlet reflected the succubus could have been wearing a garbage bag and her ass still would have looked like a masterpiece sculpted in flesh. Suppressing a flicker of jealousy, she steered Deidre to the bar.

The bartender, a young guy in faded jeans and a plain white tee, long, dark hair pulled back and up in a messy man-bun and sporting the _de rigueur_ hipster neckbeard, squinted up at them from behind Buddy Holly glasses. His expression melted from hopeful to sullen as he took them in.

"What can I get you?" His tone suggested he'd rather they both dropped stone dead than actually make him go to the immense effort of taking their order, underlain by an even less subtle subtext which all but shouted, _Freaks!_

Suppressing the urge to rip the dudebro's face off, Scarlet produced her debit card. "I'd like a glass of the house red, and she—" She inclined her head to Deidre. "—would like Amaretto on the rocks."

"That be all?"

Scarlet nodded. "Please keep our tab open. We're expecting someone soon."

"Twenty percent gratuity on tabs," the guy said, his expression daring her to make an issue of it.

"Fine," she said with a dismissive air.

The bartender picked up the card as though it was made of depleted uranium rather than plastic and shuffled over to the other side of the bar. In the relative quiet, she could hear him muttering to himself.

"Damn weirdos come out earlier every year, I swear."

He continued to grouse to himself as he poured the drinks, Scarlet watching intently to make sure he didn't do anything untoward with their beverages. Then he slouched back over to them and set the drinks down unceremoniously. "Here you go."

Scarlet took her wine, sniffed at it, raised it in a small, ironic salute, smiled to show her fangs, and took a dainty sip. Next to her, Deidre followed her motions, her sullen expression mirroring the bartender's. "Thank you," Scarlet said.

"No problem," the bartender answered, the jagged current of irritation in his speech and posture suggesting precisely the opposite.

Deidre opened her pert little rosebud of a mouth, undoubtedly to give the jerk a dose of his own poison. Scarlet shot her a warning look and shook her head meaningfully. Deidre subsided, taking another drink of her almond liqueur, and fell in behind Scarlet as she made her way to a corner table in a currently deserted part of the broad, open room. The two women sat, shoulder to shoulder so they could watch the comings and goings at the entrance.

"What an ass," she murmured.

"Remember our rules, Deidre," Scarlet said warningly. "If a scene needs to be made, Master will see it gets made. _We_ are sworn to take no action which might reflect poorly upon him or the House."

Deidre reached up to stroke the leather choker at her throat, almost but not quite a proper collar, supporting the cunningly made black glass rose emblem of the House. Scarlet wore one as well, the leather more worn but otherwise identical in all respects. "I know," she said petulantly. Her face and tone faded to neutrality. "It's sometimes hard to remember."

Scarlet gave her a light peck on the cheek, relishing the warm smoothness of Deidre's skin. "I know, my sister. But we have to trust Master's judgment and ensure our conduct reflects well upon Him at all times. It's not just His honor we hold, but our own."

Deidre sighed, shook her head and smiled.

"I'm hungry. It's making me a little irritable."

The low, sensual hunger in her eyes made Scarlet smile as well. "I know, little one," she said, stroking two fingers lightly over Deidre's free hand on the table. "I am too. But you also know we will feed well in the Master's own good time." She shook her head, indicating now was not the time for _that_ conversation. "Tell me. What do you think of my plan to grow the House?"

Deidre giggled, her abrupt sunny disposition such a swift departure from her sullenness of only a moment before that Scarlet did a double-take. "I can't believe Master is going along with it. You know how He likes to be in control of these things. If the dice had fallen the other way, this evening would probably go very differently. As it is, I'm curious to see how this will play out."

Scarlet responded with a full-throated laugh. A group of college kids in green-and-yellow shirts and hats proclaiming their alma mater huddled around a pool table in the opposite corner turned to look at them, their mouths suddenly hanging slack as they took in the view of the women. She noticed, gave a dismissive little shooing wiggle of her fingers and adjusted the broad crimson strap over her left breast, careful not to let the underlying nipple play peek-a-boo so the boys could see. One of the boys, a portly young man with a broad, good-natured face, made a theatrical gesture as if shot to the heart, accompanied by snickering chuckles and low conversation. Scarlet had no need to hear the words to guess the content.

"This ridiculous outfit," she muttered to Deidre. "Remind me _why_ I thought this was a good idea?"

Deidre took another mouthful of her drink, swallowed thoughtfully, and started ticking off points.

"First, we hunt tonight. Attractive bait always looks better. Second, it pleased Master when you suggested it." She paused. "Aren't those reasons enough?"

Scarlet frowned. "They are. I still wish I'd thought this through a bit more." Her ensemble consisted of a broad V of crimson satin which slashed down across her torso, between her thighs and back up again. She wore black pantyhose beneath, so as to minimize the chances of giving anyone an unexpected show of her more intimate bits, fuck-me heels the precise shade of her "clothing," and a black woolen cloak. Other than the collar, she looked the next best thing to nude. While she was thankful for the heavy cloak and the protection it offered from the late autumn chill, she wished it warded prying eyes as effectively.

"You wear it well," Deidre said. "I almost wish I'd done the same."

"My outfit screams 'vampire,'" Scarlet pointed out. "Yours allows a bit more mystery."

Deidre thought that over for a moment. "Secrecy is key, right?"

"Exactly," Scarlet said, reaching over with her wineglass and giving Deidre's highball a clink. "Besides, with your curves, I'm sure you'll be attracting plenty of stares of your own." She leaned in close and whispered in Deidre's delicate-looking ear, smoothing away a tumbled strand of blonde hair. "I'd like nothing more than to eat you right here and right now."

Deidre blushed. "Would Master mind?"

Scarlet giggled. "I very much doubt it, but the bartender might." She tilted her chin back to indicate the man in question, who was leaning against the bar, peering in their direction as if waiting for them to give him a good reason to usher them into the street, gently or otherwise.

Deidre pouted. "Killjoy."

Scarlet reached over and tipped Deidre's chin up with one finger, turning her head to face her fully. She pecked Deidre on the lips and said, "Don't worry, little one. Before this night is over, I'm sure we'll both get our fill." Scarlet licked her lips. Deidre's cornflower eyes widened, and she shivered a bit in anticipation.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Scarlet asked, her imperious facade slipping a little with concern. She held up one hand, fingers crossed. "I can still call the whole thing off."

Deidre shook her head. "No. I want this. It will please you and Master. And...I really do want it, Scarlet. I trust and love you both."

Scarlet opened her mouth to reply, but a cool blast of air rushed into the tiny alcove as the outside door opened and shut again. Footsteps sounded, drawing closer with the steady, precise cadence of the inevitable.

Scarlet grinned, uncrossed her fingers and drained her glass, laying her free hand on Deidre's exposed forearm.

"I think our dinner just arrived."

Deidre's eyes widened in panic. "Do I look okay?"

Scarlet leaned close enough to brush her lips against Deidre's ear and whispered, "To die for."

# Chapter Two

Scarlet watched as a man, clad from head to toe in black, prowled into the room, his posture erect and his carriage wary but relaxed. He wore a heavy leather coat with a flared cape depending from the shoulders, a hoodie, cargo pants and boots polished to a mirror finish. A large, broad-brimmed hat, pulled low over his ears, largely concealed his head and face.

Every line of his body projected the idea that danger walked in human form tonight.

The man strode to the bar without hesitation and had a murmured conversation with the bartender, whose face reddened and then quickly paled. He pointed over the newcomer's shoulder directly at their table. The hat bobbed in a curt nod. In contrast to the way the bartender had acted toward the women, he hurried to pour the man a generous glass of amber liquid, into which he plopped two ice cubes. The men exchanged a few more words, and the man in black raised his glass and took a sip.

Nodding his approval, he turned.

His face was largely unremarkable: square, with just a hint of middle-aged softness about the jawline. His nose was straight, with a slight bump as if it might once have been broken. A neatly trimmed beard framed his mouth, lending his face an angular aspect it might not have had otherwise. One might almost have called his face unprepossessing, had it not been for his eyes.

Even across the twenty-five feet of open hardwood between him and them, his blue eyes sparkled with a dangerous intelligence. Scarlet felt those eyes rake over her, then Deidre, leaving delicious heat in their wake.

He took a long look around the room, punctuated by quick double-takes, giving the impression of cataloging the precise position of everything and everyone in the room through the lens of a sniper's scope. It wasn't exactly a hostile look, but she nevertheless felt a shiver of warning skitter up her arms as that impersonal frosted-fire gaze swung back to her.

As he came, the panels of his coat fell open, revealing a hint of a belly. He wasn't particularly tall, or heavy, or anything which would make him stand out in a crowd if he had been wearing regular clothing. But his bearing made him appear several inches taller and a good deal broader than he actually was, and he moved across the floor an oncoming storm sweeping over plains, implacable and unstoppable as the icy hand of Eternity made flesh.

_If I had only my own appetites to consider, I could feed on him all night and drain him with the dawn's first light. But with Deidre involved, he would have to be preternaturally fortunate to survive until three a.m.,_ Scarlet thought.

He stopped two paces from the table and gave a low bow while still keeping his eyes on both of them.

"Mistress Scarlet," he said formally. "Who is your lovely companion?"

Scarlet smiled. "This is Deidre, the most recent addition to my House. Deidre, this is Derek, Portland's Huntsman in residence, who should really need no introduction."

Deidre raised an eyebrow, the movement exaggerated enough to be visible even from the corner of Scarlet's eye. "And what does he hunt?"

Scarlet laughed. "He hunts _us,_ dear Deidre."

Deidre's face collapsed into a tightly closed mask. "He doesn't _look_ all that formidable."

"Deidre," Scarlet chided. "No need to be rude." She nodded regally at Derek. "After all, this is a peace summit."

Deidre murmured a halfhearted apology. Derek pulled a free chair out with a neat, economical motion and sat. At the pool table, one of the boys groaned loudly enough to reach across the bar. Derek's head swiveled around, finding the gawking man and pinning him with a cold gaze. The boy blanched and turned back to his game, his hunched shoulders telegraphing the idea he wouldn't dare look toward that table again even if the entire building caught fire and passing the Hunter was his only way out. His friends followed suit, uninterested in testing whatever they saw in Derek's face, no matter how attractive his table companions might have been.

The bartender rushed over with two fresh drinks for the women, set them down and departed without a word. Derek watched until he was back behind the bar, then turned, took a thoughtful sip of his whiskey, and said, "You know why we're here, Scarlet."

She laid her hand palm up on the table. "I'm not sure I do, Hunter."

He scowled. "Don't play the innocent with me. There are _bodies_ turning up, Scarlet, a few too many of them in your own backyard. The authorities are asking awkward questions." He took another drink. "You know as well as I do that the peace treaty can only hold as long as everyone behaves themselves. You, or someone near to your House, hasn't been doing so."

"Proximity does not prove I have anything to do with it," Scarlet snapped. "I feed on my retainers in a rotation, spreading around the burden of my appetites so as not to risk leaving bodies, exactly as agreed. Whoever is doing this, they are sloppy and gauche." She drew in a breath, making sure his eyes fell to the cavernous cleavage her attire showed off. _Men. So predictable._ "I am neither." She took a sip of her wine. "Besides, dead retainers are of no use to me or mine. It's far better policy to keep them breathing."

Derek considered that long enough for classic Aerosmith to start playing over the club's sound system. "It's true. Sloppy isn't your style," he conceded. His eyes flicked to Deidre. "But you just said you added someone new to the House. That's against the rules too."

"It would be, had I turned her," Scarlet purred. "You know perfectly well the letter of the treaty terms prohibits only _turning_ others, not recruiting them."

With a tilt of his head, Derek studied Deidre silently, his lips flexing at one corner. Suddenly he sat rigidly upright in his chair.

"You're not a vampire."

Deidre shook her head. "No."

"And you're not human."

"Right again," she said, her mouth pursing into a moue of disgust as she shot Scarlet a glance. "Perceptive, isn't he?"

"Not a shifter." Derek continued, musing aloud as if Deidre hadn't spoken. "The aura and scent are all wrong. Too much 'come hither,' not enough predator. And not a Fae. No offense intended, but you don't seem prancy or flighty enough for that. Clearly, you have a physical form, which means you're not a ghost or other kind of spirit." His mouth twisted as if he'd just bitten into a particularly tart wedge of lime. "Which means you must be a succubus."

Deidre shot a panicked look at Scarlet. "How did he know?"

Scarlet offered back a chilly little smile. "Hunters are known for their quick minds and discerning natures. In addition to white combat magick, he probably has some innate mental talent for detecting supernal creatures, honed by both training and—" She lifted an eyebrow and dragged one finger over his clenched hand on the Formica tabletop. "—denial."

Derek raised his head, giving Scarlet the full force of his laser gaze. "Remove your hand, vampire. _Now._ Or I will do it for you permanently."

"You will do no such thing," Scarlet purred, ignoring the storm cloud of menace gathering in the atmosphere around the Hunter. "Unless you wish to break the truce and start a brawl, which would leave all these unfortunate, breakable mortals standing at ground zero."

"Might be worth it," Derek retorted, keeping his eyes resolutely fixed on the bridge of Scarlet's nose. "After all, taking you and your House out of the equation would make my job a good deal easier. Not to mention quieter."

"Ah, yes, the sanctity of silence," Scarlet said. "But have you ever considered perhaps we were never _meant_ to skulk in the shadows? I know it pleases those of your Order to do so, and it must be so fulfilling to know you have the power to impose your rules upon the rest of us at swordpoint. Still, some of us still remember when we ruled this world."

"That time is long past, Scarlet. And you know that. The world has moved on. Be satisfied with what is left to you."

Scarlet looked to her right, trying not to be obvious about it. Deidre had her left hand poised suspiciously near Derek's glass, but she was looking around the room, seemingly bored. A moment later, she relaxed her hand and took another sip of Amaretto.

"Perhaps you are right, Hunter. We can hardly afford a war in the streets, now, can we?"

"That would be up to you, Scarlet. That's why we're having this little chat."

She smiled. "Then I propose a toast, to a unified effort to seek out and apprehend our common foe." She released the Hunter's hand, picked up her glass and lifted it, raising her eyebrows in invitation. "You wouldn't keep a lady waiting, would you?"

Derek raised his own glass and clicked it against hers, then Deidre's, and drank two deep swallows.

"So, where shall we begin?" Scarlet said.

He frowned. "You say you didn't do it, and I believe you. You have enough retainers to not risk turning them. There would be no need, and the more vampire mouths you have to feed, the more likely it is to draw attention. Deidre could have done it, but the kills are all wrong for a succubus, and I suspect she's feeding off your retainers the same way you are, only on a staggered schedule and in rotation so as not to drain them out and leave them... _useless._ " The subtle emphasis implied he'd meant to use a cruder term, such as "dead," but had thought better of it.

Scarlet nodded slowly. "Perceptive, as I said. Go on."

"Then that means you have a turncoat, someone who's making nice with you in the open while trying to make you the focal point of a hunt."

"Perhaps. There are many in Portland who chafe under the restrictions of your Order and would be quite pleased to see my House fall, so as to step in and claim the territory for themselves. You are aware we are the largest House on the West Coast?"

"I know. It's one of the reasons the Order sent me to speak with you first. You're too entrenched in the power structure to have no connection at all to this. Logic dictates you're either involved yourself, or you know who is."

"Is _that_ how you think it works?" She laughed mockingly. "My people are not always ruled by logic, nor do they always consult me before they act, Hunter. And if, as you say, I am being betrayed by my own, they would hardly dare reveal themselves before they reach endgame for fear of retribution from the House of the Black Rose, yes?"

"True. Anyone you've pissed off lately?" He drained his glass and held it over his head without turning around for a long count of five, then returned it to the table and folded his hands.

"I can think of no one," Scarlet said truthfully. "There are mutterings of a new House which has been seeking to enhance its influence in the area, up from San Francisco. But those are mere rumors, nothing of any substance, and no one has presented themselves to me as emissaries or potential enemies. If so, they are in breach of several of our laws, and it is our right to deal with them according to our ways."

Derek shook his head. "That won't work. You ca—" He stopped and groaned a little.

"Are you all right, Hunter?" Scarlet asked.

"I feel—strange," he said. His head came up again, and this time he looked Scarlet squarely in the eyes. "What did you do?"

"I have done nothing, Hunter. Your senses would have perceived any move _I_ made," she said, allowing a slow, venomous smile to spread over her lips.

He caught the emphasis immediately. "Then what did _she_ do?" he asked, jabbing a finger at Deidre.

"You're much too uptight and stuffy," the succubus said, grinning winsomely at him. "You need to relax. You need...leisure." Reaching over, she put a hand on his. "How long has it been since you've known the touch of a woman?"

"Irrelevant," he snarled, jerking his hand away. He narrowly missed elbowing the bartender, who was just coming up behind him with his fresh drink. The bartender set it down.

"Everything okay here?"

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. Deidre continued to smile. After a moment, Derek nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're okay."

"May we have the check, please?" Scarlet asked.

"Sure," the bartender said, walking away quickly.

"Are you going somewhere?" Derek said, his tone slightly dazed but nevertheless steely.

"No," Scarlet said. _"We_ are. Now be a good boy and drink up."

She watched him raise the glass to his lips and gulp down the contents in a few lusty swallows. The bartender came over with a tiny plastic tray bearing her card, a pen and two slips of paper. She filled in the tip on the top copy, signed it, retrieved her card and receipt and passed the remaining items back to him.

"Thank you," she said, leaning forward and giving him a wide smile. The calculated movement offered a prime view of the deep cleft between her breasts, and the bartender's reaction did not disappoint.

"Uh. No problem," he said, looking around the table frantically as a bulge formed in the front of his jeans. "You, uh, have a good night now."

As he scurried off, Scarlet turned to Deidre with a grin. "Come, love. Let's get him into the car."

# Chapter Three

Scarlet drove through the glistening, rain-soaked streets. The hour had grown late enough for traffic to be fairly light, but early enough for navigating safely to require the majority of her attention. Deidre sat in the back with Derek, and Scarlet adjusted her rearview mirror just enough to ensure a good view of what was going on.

Derek slumped in his seat, eyes open but slightly unfocused. Given the brightness of his gaze earlier, the effect was a bit unnerving, but Scarlet knew it was just a side effect of the web Deidre had cast over his drink. Deidre stroked her hands over his thighs with a light, whispering whoosh which was all but lost in the sounds of the tires on the wet pavement and the gentle thumping of the wipers.

"How long will your web hold?" Scarlet asked.

Deidre scrunched up her face in thought. It was an awfully cute expression, which made her look childlike and slightly mischievous. Scarlet's pussy clenched a little, and she felt a bead of moisture drip from between her thighs. _What I wouldn't give to have her on her knees in front of me right now!_

"About twenty minutes," she said. "Plenty of time, if we use it wisely."

"Then I suggest you do," Scarlet said.

She stifled a gasp as Deidre lowered one hand to the fly of Derek's cargo pants. The succubus fumbled for a moment and then revealed his cock, half-erect but growing visibly harder under her touch. Deidre began to massage his flesh lazily, whispering into his ear just loudly enough for Scarlet to hear.

"Does that feel good, Hunter? Do you like my touch? I want to put my mouth on it, you know. I want to suck you until you cum deep in my mouth, and then get you hard all over again so you can fuck my pretty little cunt. Or maybe even my tight asshole. Would you like that?"

He groaned, and his cock swelled to full length and thickness. Scarlet's angle of vision allowed her to just make out a tiny teardrop of moisture atop the crown, illuminated by the various lights on the road. Deidre quickly scooped it up with her fingers, using his own juices to lubricate his flesh as she stroked him.

"Maybe you can even have _both_ of us tonight, if you're a good boy. I know Mistress Scarlet is as hungry as I am. We might even let you live—but even if we didn't, you couldn't ask for a better exit from this life, could you?"

Derek moaned. "You're...not...going to...kill...me," he panted. "You...can't...afford the...Order...to come...down...on you...like...that."

"Oh, the only thing which is coming down right now is my mouth on your cock," Deidre said. She undid her seatbelt and wriggled, arranging herself so she could bring her face to his groin.

"Move a bit to the right," Scarlet said. "I want to see." Gritting her teeth, she struggled to focus on the road and the Hunter's seduction simultaneously, the scent of her own arousal filling her nostrils. She would never have described herself as a voyeur, but the liquid heat between her thighs served as incontestable proof that the scene in the mirror entranced her. "We're about fifteen minutes away from our special place."

Deidre scooted a bit.

"No, the other way. Good. A bit more—perfect," Scarlet said.

Deidre leaned down and gave the side of his cock a long, slow lick, from the base all the way up to the crown. She swirled her tongue around the edge as if licking a lollipop, and Derek groaned again. His hands twitched as if he was trying to raise them to clutch at Deidre's hair, but they stopped a mere inch off the leather seat.

"Ah ah ah," Scarlet mocked. "You can't move until we say you can, you naughty, naughty boy. You can only sit back and enjoy, or endure, what she's going to do to you." She thought for a moment. "Can he break the spell?"

Deidre lifted her head away from the Hunter's cock. "It depends," she grumped, miffed at being pulled away from her treat. "A formidable enough will could theoretically do so, but it would probably take more time than he has. As long as I stay in physical contact with his skin, it shouldn't be a problem."

Scarlet nodded. "Carry on, then."

Without hesitation, Deidre returned to her self-assigned task, licking his shaft and smoothing her fingers over his length with gusto, Scarlet drinking in the sight through the mirror. To her surprise, she felt the first clawing stirrings of jealousy mingling with her rising erotic hunger as Deidre worshiped Derek's cock, teasing and pleasing the Hunter.

She knew her response was irrational. This had been her idea, after all, and Deidre was only following instructions. Besides, the succubus knew how her magick worked, and how to sustain its effects, far better than Scarlet could. But a tiny, petulant voice in her mind wanted _her_ to be the one on her knees, tasting and touching his cock and enslaving him to her will. Even though she understood the necessity and the fact she knew where they were going whereas Deidre didn't, she could not deny her anger as she watched Deidre take him deep into her mouth, then pull back, only to push forward again even more greedily.

Scarlet's lips parted, the word which could end all this trembling on the tip of her tongue. With an effort of will, she bit it back and down, feeding it into the furnace deep in the pit of her stomach, using it as fuel. Still, knowing she had the option, the choice and most importantly the _right_ to end this if it became unbearable helped ease the awful pressure and drain some of the sting from watching Deidre suck Derek's cock, leaving only a slight frisson of pique in its wake.

Derek, for his part, was powerless to do anything except enjoy Deidre's talented lips and tongue on his sensitive flesh, although he stared into the mirror and Scarlet's eyes with a dangerous intensity. _My body may be paralyzed for now, bitch,_ his look seemed to say, _but my mind is still my own, and you're both going to pay_ dearly _for this._

Deidre did something with her mouth Scarlet couldn't see, but it coaxed an audible moan of pleasure from Derek. For Deidre's part, she was making happy little coos as she swallowed and released him, over and over. Then she parted the wings of her cloak, revealing her perky, firm breasts. She hunched on the seat with her ass in the air and pressed her breasts together around his hardness, bouncing up and down as best the angle would permit. Derek shuddered and his eyes slid closed as she tit-fucked him, his hands forming helpless claws against the cloth upholstery.

Distracted by the show, Scarlet nearly missed the turn for the club. Swearing, she cut the wheel sharply to the left. A horn blared behind them, and she raised her middle finger without looking back. Deidre cried out as the car jostled, pitching her off Derek and sprawling her unceremoniously in a heap on the spacious floorboard, her breasts shining in the glow of the streetlights and her expression annoyed.

"What was that?"

"I—got distracted," Scarlet said. "But no matter." She pulled the car into a more graceful right-hand turn, found an empty spot and piloted it to a stop. "Cover up. We're here."

# Chapter Four

Deidre rose to her knees. Giving Derek's cock a firm squeeze just below the head, she applied pressure until his erection subsided and then tucked it carefully back into his pants. Then she pressed her cloak closed, keeping one hand twined around Derek's as she clambered to her feet and tugged him out of the car.

Without a sexual connection, she had to maintain skin-to-skin contact or the spell could fracture, freeing him to unleash retribution. She had seen enough of the Hunter to know he was not likely to be forgiving or deal gently with them if she lost control of him. The women would both be lucky to survive a skirmish, never mind actually coming out on top.

She watched Scarlet's swaying hips, enjoying the show immensely. The redhead moved with lean, lithe grace and an unconscious sensuality which made Deidre's mouth water. Although the black cape around her shoulders largely obscured the view from behind, Deidre knew the curves beneath almost as well as her own, having studied them closely and in great, loving detail over the past year. She knew the vampire's taste, her scent, her sound intimately, and her fingers itched to reach out and trace the lines of the other, older woman's hips and ass as she followed the vampire and the Hunter down the stairs to the recessed door leading into the club.

"Welcome to Private Affairs, sir, ladies," the woman at the door said. She was on the shady side of forty, maybe thirty pounds overweight and comfortable in her skin, wearing a burgundy corset, a flared black skirt and heels. "Do you have your membership card?"

Scarlet fumbled through her clutch and handed the plastic card to the greeter, who scanned it with the camera on her cell phone. After a few seconds, she handed it back with a smile. "Here you are. You're all set. That'll be forty dollars."

Once more, she passed over her debit card. Deidre moved forward to flank her, where she could see Scarlet's face while maintaining her watch on the Hunter. The woman affixed a block of white plastic to her phone and swiped the card. "Receipt?"

"No, thank you. The bank will send me an email."

"Okay. You all know the house rules?"

Scarlet nodded. "We do." She gave the woman a bright grin, her dark chocolate eyes glinting with excitement. "We're regulars."

"Perfect!" The greeter smiled again and stepped aside, parting the velvet rope separating the interior from the door. "Have fun!"

"Thank you," Scarlet said, and led the way into the club, the Hunter falling in obediently if mechanically behind her. Deidre brought up the rear behind the Hunter, clutching his hand, so close she could smell the wet leather of his coat and the brisk, spicy scent of his body wash underlain with his own natural musk even over the sharp odor of chlorinated water, cleaning chemicals and human sweat. He wore no cologne, but Deidre hardly thought he needed it to smell delicious. She thought of sucking his cock in the car, remembered the feeling of the flared head of his cock pummeling the back of her throat, and a pulse of brilliant blue-white heat sizzled down her nerve endings from the impact point to her clit.

She was hungry to the point of madness, horny beyond endurance. She craved cock and cunt, to please and be pleased, to have her entire body plundered, licked, sucked, fucked and taken. It was pure, bestial need, exquisite in its power and urgency, and the brief taste of the Hunter she'd had earlier had whetted her appetite until every sensation, sight, smell and sound burned both on her skin and beneath it. Being a succubus was never easy, but right now, she felt she could fuck her way through the entire club and still crave more.

A song with a pounding bass and snarling, gravelly lead guitar line was playing, a baritone male voice rasping over the top of it. The song formed an auditory backdrop to the low buzz of conversation, punctuated with moans and cries of pleasure and pain, the clink of glassware, the burbling of water from the hot tub room and crisp reports of impact from hands and implements striking bare flesh in the dungeon.

Scarlet led them to an alcove in the back of the club. She surveyed a long line of narrow doors, painted a flat, matte black, with narrowed eyes. Then she smiled, raising her chin to indicate the far end of the room.

Deidre swallowed hard, drinking in the sight of the pale skin of Scarlet's slender throat above her choker. Forcing herself to look away, she followed the line of her chin to where two of the doors hung slightly open, their polished brass fittings throwing back the colored lights from above a packed dance floor in the next room, imparting a dull yellow sheen to the scintillating reds and greens and blues.

"Take him into the far room," Scarlet said. "I'll go into the one next to it."

Deidre tugged on Derek's hand. "Come on, Hunter."

She drew him to the indicated room, really more of a deep, narrow closet. One side featured a smooth, blank black wall covered with UV-reactive paint which threw off a confused melange of colors in the sullen purple glow of the naked blacklight bulb set in the ceiling, its only other feature a line of brass coat hooks set just high enough that average-height people wouldn't be at risk of injuring themselves as they used the room. On the side opposite, the riotously-colored blankness of the wall was interrupted by a large hole, about eight inches in diameter, surrounded by a spongy black material. The floor in front of the hole featured a low, padded kneeler, about four feet long and a foot and a half wide. In the middle of the room, two black plastic chairs sprawled akimbo, with a small table between, coated in battered, scarred lacquer, whose only feature was a box of tissues. The back wall was utterly devoid of features or decorations, giving the odd appearance of a symmetrical five-by-seven-foot rip in space, the impression bolstered by the paint-spattered plywood ceiling overhead.

Deidre tugged the Hunter's hand, pulling him into the room. She had to press close to the wall, and even so, there was barely enough room for him to pass her, his chest brushing her breasts beneath her cloak and bringing her nipples to aching, erect life once more. Her hunger roared in wrathful need, and she lunged for him, crushing her lips to his.

He gasped in surprise, and she took full advantage of his momentary weakness, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. To her delight, he met her oral assault with equal ardor, his own tongue parrying and darting around hers, as he pushed back into her, shoving her violently against the wall.

She was suddenly very aware of her nudity beneath the cloak as his erection pressed into her thigh. Just three inches to the right, and one up, and he could be inside her. All she had to do was lift the hem of her cloak.

No! Scarlet is waiting. Still, I'm sure she won't mind waiting a moment more...

She reached down and undid the Hunter's belt, popping the button holding his pants closed and unzipping them. With a quick motion, she hooked her thumbs in the waistline of his briefs and shoved them and his pants down to his ankles, leaving him hobbled and helpless. He grunted as she palmed his cock, stroking the warm, soft flesh of his manhood.

"Bring him over here," Scarlet said through the hole in the wall, her voice heated with a complex mixture of emotions Deidre couldn't quite decipher. Her pale, streamlined hand appeared through the opening, beckoning.

Deidre kissed him for a long moment more, and then steered him to the hole by his firmly erect cock. "Take him in hand, Scarlet. I will join you in a moment."

"Will the spell hold?"

"As long as you don't let go, yes. For a few minutes, anyway. But we have to hurry."

Scarlet gripped him firmly and pulled him closer to the hole, until his hips pressed flush against the wall. Deidre whipped the hat off his head, revealing close-cropped light brown hair, and hung it on a hook. Then she turned back to him and slithered her hands under the sides of his duster, drawing it off his arms, peering at his face. His dazed, poleaxed look of dumbfounded pleasure convinced her the spell still held him under its sway. She could afford the luxury of a few moments to get from one place to another.

She hurried out of the closet and twisted the handle to secure the door behind her. It wouldn't do for him to be molested before she and her vampire mistress had completed the stranglehold of the web. Afterward it wouldn't matter, but for now, she dared leave nothing to chance lest the Hunter shatter the shackles of the web and assert, with vigor, his displeasure over their flagrant violation of the treaty.

It felt strange and somehow both arousing and wrong to walk into the alcove next door and find Scarlet caressing an oddly disembodied male member. As she slipped through the thin plywood door, she saw the vampire fold gracefully to her knees on the low bench, swirling her tongue over Derek's cock while she rubbed him with one hand. Scarlet flicked her eyes to Deidre and motioned her over with her free hand.

She had been worried Scarlet would be jealous. As the newest of the House, it was rare she got to play with a man alone, and even rarer for Scarlet to allow her to take point. However, under the circumstances, the vampire had no choice. Scarlet could keep him enthralled for a few moments on her own, using his own sexual desire against him, but she lacked both the occult knowledge and raw seductive power to craft and empower the web.

Kneeling, Deidre mouthed, _Are you okay? Do we need to stop?_

Something dark flitted across Scarlet's face, there and gone before Deidre could begin to make it out. The vampire shook her head, the light coppery curls bouncing. _I'm okay,_ she mouthed back, stroking Derek's length with her hand. _I'm a little jealous, but I want this._

Deidre tilted her head. _Do you need to safeword?_

Scarlet waved the hand not currently occupied with seven inches of hard manmeat in a sharp negative gesture. _No. I'm okay._ She thought for a moment. _Can I be rough with you?_

Deidre smiled, a wave of hot desire rippling through her body. _Do what you want to me. I love you._

Scarlet nodded. _I love you too, little one._ She bent her face to Derek's cock once more, indicating Deidre should join her. The succubus didn't hesitate, mirroring Scarlet's posture and bracing with one hand against the wall. She leaned forward and began to minister to Derek's length, imitating the vampire's motions and looking squarely into her eyes.

To Deidre's surprised delight, Scarlet met her at the crown of Derek's cock, the vampire's tongue playing tentatively, then lasciviously, over both his hard flesh and Deidre's mouth. Scarlet leaned forward, sealing her lips to Deidre's, the teasing caresses melting into a sensual kiss, battering Derek's erection gently between them as a boat caught amid storm-tossed waves. Then Scarlet pulled back to slither back down Derek's length, sliding until her cheek was pressed flush to the wall and back up again. Deidre matched her movements as if they'd practiced this deliciously forbidden dance a thousand times. They met for another kiss, and Scarlet whispered, "Take him."

Deidre did, opening wide and surging forward until the head of his cock met the back of her throat, and then pulled back again, deep-throating his length for all she was worth, closing her eyes in blissful surrender to the delicious control she had over him in this moment.

She heard a soft rustle behind her, felt cool air on her butt as the hem of her cloak was lifted from behind, and then Scarlet's warm, gentle hand brushed lightly over the swell of Deidre's ass and downward until her fingertips grazed the clean-shaven lips of her cunt. The vampire sought and found her wetness, spreading it around the sensitive folds with languid, unhurried strokes. She gasped, drawing Derek even deeper into her mouth, as the pad of Scarlet's fingertip slid lightly over her clit and downward to tease at the entrance to her core.

Derek's cock spasmed between her lips as Scarlet pushed deeper into Deidre's body. She took the dual invasion eagerly, adoringly, hunching down slightly to better open herself to Scarlet's questing hand while not losing her intimate connection with the Hunter.

"Is he close?" Scarlet asked.

Despite the position, Deidre managed to nod.

Scarlet slipped another finger into her, stretching her as her body flexed to accommodate the additional intruder. Deidre whimpered as the other woman found a certain spot which shot luscious flames through her entire being. Somewhere deep in her mind, where the onslaught of merciless pleasure couldn't reach, she wondered at Scarlet's dexterity as the vampire moved to kneel beside her, insinuating her tongue delicately into the erotic interplay while maintaining her gentle assault on Deidre's senses. Another finger invaded her body, and Deidre moaned around the firm flesh in her mouth with pleasure dancing on the razor's edge of pain as Scarlet began to pump her fingers into Deidre's cunt hard and fast, forcing her closer to the precipice. Deidre hunched her hips down as best she could, offering herself as a willing sacrifice to Scarlet's dark need to punish and please.

Derek groaned once more, and his voice came low and urgent.

"I'm going to cum..."

Deidre and Scarlet moved as one, urging Derek to his climax. The utter depravity, the glorious filthiness of sucking Derek off through a hole in the wall, coupled with Scarlet's skilled touch inside her body, sent Deidre spiraling into a shuddering orgasm, her howls of ecstasy muffled by the swollen flesh in her mouth and Scarlet's kisses.

From behind the wall, they heard Derek moan. He stiffened once more, and Deidre rejoiced at the hot, salty assault on her taste buds as Derek lost control, pumping wave after wave of cum into her eager mouth. She closed her eyes once more, reveling in the flavor of his release on her tongue and the feel of Scarlet's lips against her own, partaking of Derek's essence with her as if sharing a dark communion, helping her to pull the chains of the web tighter around his psyche even as they granted him the surcease from denial his Order refused him.

As his eruption subsided and his cock softened to slip from her lips, Scarlet drew her into a fierce, one-armed embrace, slipping yet another finger into Deidre. She no longer knew, or cared, how many digits the other woman had up her cunt. The exquisite pleasure made it impossible for her to think of anything but the rapture as Scarlet kissed her deeply, drinking from her mouth as if Deidre was no more or less than a priceless chalice. The image, coupled with Scarlet's fangs prodding against her lips and the confident slide of fingers between Deidre's thighs, made her tense and cum again, wailing her joy into Scarlet's mouth.

Finally, Scarlet pulled away with a gulp. Her eyes shone brightly in the dimness of the cubicle, her cheeks flushed to a distinctly nonvampiric rose hue.

"That was delicious," she said, and Deidre knew she wasn't only talking about the results of the Hunter's orgasm. "Will the web hold now?"

Deidre thought for a moment. "It will hold for a time, but for the best results, I should cast it again and then you should take him. That way, he will be bound to both of us, blood, breath and bone. Right now, he could theoretically still break the spell, if his willpower is sufficient."

Scarlet considered that, and Deidre didn't need a telepathic link to guess the bent of her thoughts. Hunters' willpower was the stuff of legend. The tales of various creatures and entities who had underestimated the Hunters to their own doom were spoken in whispers throughout the preternatural realms, adding to the dread the Hunters and their commanding Order inspired. Neither woman had any desire to add the House of the Black Rose to the ranks of the Hunters' conquests.

What the Master would think of such a turn of events didn't bear thinking on.

"Very well," she said finally.

She stood, pulling away from Deidre, whose cunt clenched at the loss of her dainty, filling fingers. Then Scarlet embraced her again, pressing her wet fingers to Deidre's lips. She opened her mouth, accepting them, the taste of her own nectar mingling with the sharper but no less delicious lingering savor of Derek on her tongue. She suckled at Scarlet's fingers avidly, determined to get every drop off Scarlet's skin, until she could no longer taste herself, then pulled away just enough to let the other woman's hand fall.

Scarlet leaned in, crushing her breasts against Deidre, and kissed her once more with real feeling. Deidre's breath caught and the love and desire she felt for the vampire flooded through her. Suddenly she wished they were at home, curled up in each other's arms, watching some vapid sitcom and cuddling until their mutual need became unbearable, ushering in the dawn lost in each other's bodies.

When Scarlet drew away from her, she had to fight a sudden urge to cry at the pain of separation.

"Go get us drinks. I'll see to Derek and meet you back here."

Deidre bowed.

"Yes, Mistress."

# Chapter Five

Deidre slithered her way through the crowd, around the corner and up the stairs to the bar, her eyes darting around to drink in the bacchanal surrounding her. People-watching in Portland was always an adventure, and Private Affairs was no exception, especially this close to Halloween.

In one corner, near the DJ booth, pitiless, rotating blades of colored light illuminated a burly, bearded, dark-skinned man. He wore a frilly pink tutu, red thong panties, a ludicrous blonde wig and nothing else, his back to the room as he gripped a St. Andrew's cross. A petite, dark-haired woman dressed like a member of Dracula's pep squad in a black and red slutty cheerleader outfit and stiletto heels wielded a matched pair of light floggers, swaying her hips in time to "Living Dead Girl" while she worked over his back with intricate loops and whirls of the multi-tailed whips.

Onlookers sprawled on low benches or stood in a loose semicircle around the couple, in outfits ranging from novel to normal to nonexistent, including one swarthy, heavyset man who was openly masturbating as he watched. He made eye contact with Deidre and gave her the sort of smile hungry sharks gave baby seals. She shivered, suddenly feeling very naked and exposed despite her cloak, and turned away, hurrying onward down the corridor.

Around the corner, the space opened out into a wide room dominated by a hot tub large enough to seat eight, if they were polite. Currently, the tub hosted somewhere north of a dozen people, all kissing, touching, or stroking various parts of one another.

One rebellious couple, in flagrant violation of the large NO INTERCOURSE IN TUB AREA sign posted directly above and behind them, was engaged in vigorous and vocal sexual congress, the woman on her hands and knees while her partner knelt behind her, pummeling her pussy with a ridiculously long, thick cock. She whimpered and howled in English and Spanish, encouraging her lover to go harder and deeper.

Deidre gulped. _How can she_ take _all that?_ It didn't seem physically possible given the disparity in their relative sizes, and yet she accepted even his most vicious thrusts with vociferous, bilingual glee.

A loose knot of people, in pairs and trios and a couple of loners, stood around, cradling drinks or paper plates of food from the club's buffet, chatting and watching or ignoring the action as it suited them. Most of them didn't give her a second glance, but a transgender woman who appeared to be not far into her transition met Deidre's eyes and gave her a shy smile. Deidre smiled back, hoping the other woman had or would find someone to love or at least be with here tonight, but hurried past into the darker hallway leading up to the stairs, making a mental note to try to chat with her a bit later in the evening if time and other factors allowed.

As she stepped from dimness into actual darkness, she barked her shin painfully on something just above floor level. "Ouch!"

"Hey!" A pale face swung toward her out of the gloom as her eyes began to adjust, contorted in anger. "Watch where you're going!"

"I'm sorry—" Deidre said, but the man had already turned back to what he was doing: sucking the short, fat cock of another, even paler man who reclined on a faux leather divan, his knees cradling the kneeling man's torso. A little piqued to be so abruptly dismissed, but deciding it was better not to press the issue, Deidre scurried up the steps, carefully scanning the area around her for any other obstacles.

"Assholes! They should be using the couples' rooms. That's what they're there for! Hide out in the dark and then get upset when someone trips over them..." Deidre growled under her breath.

For a moment, she was sorely tempted to go back and give them the sharp edge of her tongue, but she didn't dare. Not only would that reflect poorly on the House, and earn her a rather painful and prolonged discipline, but she couldn't afford to keep Scarlet and the Hunter waiting. Every minute she dallied was a minute she risked losing her tenuous control over the Hunter and destroying the détente which assured the supernatural denizens of Portland could go about their affairs more or less unmolested and unchallenged.

She made it to the bar, past people dressed for the street or Halloween or a dungeon or a bathhouse or bed. She fell into line behind a woman dressed as a sexy nun in a latex habit, wearing a collar to which was attached a leash held by a person of indeterminate gender in a brown monk's cassock with the hood pulled up. At the "monk's" waist rode a double loop of hemp rope into which had been thrust a riding crop, a pair of restraints, a set of nipple clamps on a chain cunningly worked to look like a rosary and a couple of items she couldn't readily identify. The "nun" turned toward the large, neon-limned, handwritten beverage menu against the wall, allowing Deidre to see that her outfit left her small breasts bared and her neatly trimmed, dark pubic bush exposed. She pointed at something on the menu and spoke to the monk, whose hood bobbed in what Deidre presumed to be a nod.

Deidre made a mental note to broach the subject of the "nun's" outfit with Scarlet and the Master. She wasn't entirely sure if they would be open to such roleplay, but if they were, she was quite sure she would enjoy any "penance" assigned to her.

The quasi-religious pair in front of her moved aside with drinks in hand, and the young woman behind the bar, about Deidre's age, gave her a grin. "What are you drinking?"

She recited the order quickly. The bartender swiftly assembled plastic barware and began pouring. "So, where's everyone else?"

"Downstairs," Deidre said. She smiled. "We're playing a game."

"A fun one, I hope!" The bartender offered her a grin in return.

"It sure is." She wriggled with excitement, feeling a bead of wetness drip down her thigh. "I'm being collared tomorrow, so tonight we're celebrating."

"Sounds great!" the other woman said, placing the cups on the counter. "You got that okay?"

Deidre grinned. "I think I can manage," she replied, reaching under her cloak. She pulled a twenty and a ten from the small pouch around her thigh and laid them on the bar, waving to indicate no change was required. No matter where the members of the House went, Master insisted they always tip well, saying it made them more memorable and ensured better service on future excursions.

"Tell them I said hi."

"Promise!"

As Deidre scooped up the drinks and arranged them against her chest so they wouldn't slosh or spill, she became abruptly, even painfully aware of her throbbing clit and open vagina. Scarlet's touch had opened the floodgates of her desire, and far from being satisfied, it roared to wakefulness once again, demanding more. More cock, more cunt, more delicious cum. She wanted to be reduced to a series of mindless, wet, aching holes fit only to be ravaged, filled, fucked and used like the gloriously depraved slut she was. She wanted to lose her mind, her sense of self, giving it all over, wrapped up like a gift in the self-forged chains of her submission, and in that blissful delirium of ecstasy find her wings.

But to achieve that orgasmic Nirvana she craved, she had to navigate the obstacle course of the club while carrying three well-loaded glasses of alcohol which both confirmed the Master's wisdom and added an extra dimension of challenge. She shook her head, hunched her shoulders to protect the drinks and set off, bobbing and weaving like a boxer through the press of bodies.

Finally, the labyrinth of the club behind her, she found her way back to the gloryhole hallway. She turned to enter and immediately regretted it as she took in the tableau before her.

# Chapter Six

Derek stood with his shoulders back, feet positioned in a martial arts stance, his entire posture telegraphing the sort of relaxed tension a coiled but uncompressed spring has. Scarlet stood behind him on his right, tottering slightly on her high heels, standing about half a head taller than the Hunter. One of the club's co-hosts, a woman in her late forties with her hair dyed an eye-searing Easter egg pink, stood between Derek and another, heavyset man with a full, scraggly beard and a Rastafarian hat who was wearing only a leather vest and blue jeans, showing off pallid arms sleeved with intricate tattoos in a bizarre mishmash of styles and a doughy midsection.

She recognized the newcomer as Leroy, a club regular and a well-known figure in the Portland kink scene. He had an inflated opinion of himself and his style of Dominance, as well as a remarkable inability to keep submissives around for any length of time. However, he maintained enough political connections with the "right" people to hush up any taint of scandal. The fact his castoffs and byblows tended to quietly disappear from the scene and not emerge again was noted, but seldom commented on openly amongst those who liked being welcome in the clubs and parties which catered to the community.

Deidre shivered; Leroy gave her the unholy creeps, and Master and Scarlet had both warned her from being alone with him at any time, regardless of place or circumstances. She hardly needed the warning, based on his spooky reputation, but took the cautions seriously just the same.

Scarlet saw her and made an urgent motion for Deidre to get over there. She obeyed as quickly as the drinks in her arms would allow, taking up a position on Derek's left.

"—other cunt he's dragging around?"

Deidre gasped, guessing the other woman in question must have been her. Scarlet stared at him, astounded. The co-host's jaw dropped, and she raised a hand into the air. Derek's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Say that again," Derek said, his tone a well-constructed floor covered in a rime of ice. Although he hadn't raised his volume a single decibel, his voice reverberated through the immediate space with razor-edged efficiency, setting Deidre's hackles on edge. She knew the sound of genuine anger, and right now Derek's entire being fairly vibrated with cold fury.

"What?" Leroy demanded. "I just asked if your other bitch—"

Derek surged forward, his hands crimping into fists. Deidre had no doubt he'd have taken Leroy's head off, never mind the other man had most of a head's height and at least fifty pounds on Derek. But before Derek could take more than two steps, a dark hand rested gently but firmly on his shoulder.

Deidre followed the hand up an absurdly large arm, and from there up to the broad face of TJ, one of the club's security staff. Derek whirled as if getting ready to attack, realized who held him, and relaxed.

"Hey, TJ," he said, his voice still thick with that dangerous, resonant projection.

"How's it going?" TJ said, his deep voice reminding her of Michael Clarke Duncan, smiling down at Derek like a friendlier version of an Easter Island head. "Good night?"

"Been better," Derek said.

"Leroy bothering you?"

Derek shrugged. "Not as much as I'm about to bother him."

TJ's dark face drooped a little, giving him the aspect of a disappointed basset hound. "You know we can't have that in here, or anywhere on the property, Derek." He looked over at Leroy and then away, his demeanor dismissive. "Let me guess. Rule Number One?"

Derek nodded sharply. "Yes. He seems to think anyone who has more women than him owes him tribute."

"All I said was, if you're not going to play, this may not be the right place for you." Leroy relaxed a little. "And I'm pretty sure Adamant and Little Bear will back me on that."

TJ shook his head. "I'm pretty sure they _won't._ You asked. They said no. You pushed the issue. That's not allowed, Leroy, and you know it. Then you used a word I certainly don't approve of out of context, to describe a _woman_ —" He snarled the noun, giving it depth and dimension. "—who isn't yours and owes you nothing." TJ paused, letting the tension fill the air. "If it was up to me, I'd swear I saw you bothering them and the next thing I knew, you were on the ground getting your ass kicked. Too bad, so damned sad."

He stepped around Derek and got up in Leroy's face, looming over him. Deidre winced. She'd never really appreciated just how large TJ was before, not until she'd seen him in comparison to Leroy. Leroy's large frame dwarfed Derek, but TJ managed to make Leroy look scrawny, overripe and insignificant with his sheer size and solid build.

"But it _ain't_ up to me." He raised a hand, one finger extended, and waved it around. Deidre followed the gesture and realized he was indicating black security camera bubbles set into the ceiling. "And someone's always watching. So!" He clapped his hands together sharply, the impact sounding like someone setting off a medium-sized firecracker. "Here's what we're going to do instead.

"Leroy, you're going to apologize. _Sincerely_. Then you're going to suddenly feel the need to call it a night and go home. If you and these folks are here at the same time again, you don't approach them, talk to them or even look at them. You keep well away. You're so far out of pocket, I'm tempted to eighty-six you right now, but if you do those things, you'll keep your membership on a provisional basis." He half-turned and took two steps backward, Deidre guessed so he could see both men at the same time. "Anyone got a problem with that?"

Derek shook his head, although that sharpened spring steel tension didn't dissipate. Scarlet said, "No problem, as long as he follows the protocol."

TJ turned back to face Leroy squarely. The smaller man's pasty face flushed, and his expression went indignant. _"You_ got a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I got a problem with that!" Leroy snapped. "This is a play party. We're here to _play."_

"We _were_ playing," Scarlet interjected. "We just don't want to play with _you."_

"You should be nicer to me," Leroy sneered. "I know you think your House is a big deal and all, but I can fix things so you're never welcome at another event with a single phone call."

Derek's jaw tensed. "Any event you're at is one we don't care to attend anyway."

TJ shook his head and raised a hand for silence. "And now you're threatening them?" He leaned in again and whispered something in Leroy's ear. The furious red in his face drained to biscuit-dough white, and he gulped loud enough for Deidre to hear even over the thudding bass of the music and the general ambient noise of the club.

"You don't mean that!" Leroy gasped.

"Actually, I do. I'll walk you out and make sure you make it to your car okay." He turned back and gave Derek, Scarlet and Deidre a wryly bemused look. "Wouldn't want you to have any accidents in the parking lot." He turned back, and although Deidre could only see about a quarter of his face, she was able to watch the good humor flow out of his craggy visage, leaving only a frighteningly calm neutrality. "Now. Are you going to walk out of here voluntarily, or do I need to assist you?"

Leroy spat on the floor about halfway between Derek and TJ, close enough to their feet to ensure they didn't miss the insult but not close enough for them to credibly make an issue of it. "I'm going. Done with this place anyway."

"Get your coat and meet me at the door," TJ said.

Leroy huffed off and TJ muttered something into the walkie-talky clipped to his belt. A moment later, the radio crackled with a reply, and he nodded and clipped it back in place.

"He gives you any grief, _anywhere,_ you send anyone who asks my way. I'll put 'em straight."

Scarlet smiled and scooted around Derek, putting her arms around TJ. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry you got mixed up in this."

TJ gave Scarlet a quizzical look but shook his head. "No big. Just another day at the office." He turned to Derek. "Y'all still coming over for the game on Sunday?"

For a moment confusion played over the Hunter's face before it faded to a calmer, happier look. His shoulders slumped a little and he nodded. "Wouldn't miss it. Let us know what we need to bring."

TJ laughed. "I'll hit you up tomorrow." His smiling mouth drooped into a more somber mode. "If y'all want to play some more, that's cool. If you'd rather take off outta here, don't guess I blame you."

"We're not going to let him spoil our night." She brushed a hand over Derek's chest possessively. "Are we?"

Derek shook his head. Deidre grinned and said, "No!"

The security staffer gave them a friendly salute, then pointed at the all-but-forgotten drinks cradled in Deidre's arms. "Drink up, have fun and I'll get atcha tomorrow." He scowled at the spittle on the floor. "I gotta call someone to bring a mop."

As TJ ambled off, Scarlet relieved Deidre of the excess drinks, passing one to Derek and claiming the other for herself. The vampire looked at the Hunter intently.

"Are you okay?"

Derek grunted and shook himself, the razor-edged alertness of his posture ebbing away as the anger leached from his face. He raised his glass.

"I'm fine...Mistress."

Deidre smirked. "Looks like the spell held. I wasn't sure it would, after...that."

The trio clicked their cups together and drank. Scarlet frowned.

"We still need to complete the final binding, correct?"

Deidre considered for a moment. "We do. But if we leave now, the spell should hold until we get home."

Scarlet shook her head. "I don't want to take the risk." A sultry undertone crept into her voice, padding along on soft little kitten feet of desire. "Besides, we have access to perfectly good beds right here. Why don't you take him into one of the private rooms?" She turned to Valerie, the cohost, who had largely been silent during the altercation with Leroy. "Can you ensure we're not disturbed?"

Valerie smiled reassuringly. "I'll do everything I can, hun."

Scarlet gave her a friendly, one-armed hug which Valerie reciprocated. "Thank you."

Deidre nodded and tugged at Derek's free hand. "Come on, Hunter. Let's get you—" She leaned in and kissed him heatedly. "—more comfortable."

He followed in her wake without protest, his looming presence comforting and menacing at the same time. Without the bonds of the spell to hold him, she might have felt differently, but her succubus nature bubbled to the forefront, washing over her in a tidal wave of burning lust. She hurried to the nearest open door, glanced inside to ensure the space was clear of occupants and motioned him in, standing aside to let him pass. She caught Scarlet's gaze across the thirty or so feet between them and pointed upward, indicating the door. Scarlet gave her a wave and a "be right there" flick of her hand, and Deidre stepped into the alcove.

Derek had his back to her, fumbling with something under his duster. She pressed her body against him, enjoying the clean, masculine scent of his body and the warm aroma of good leather from his coat.

"Are you ready for us, lover?" she cooed, her voice thick as molten caramel in her throat with her need.

In a dizzying whirl of motion, the world lurched down and to the side. She landed on the bed face down with a thud, crying out involuntarily in surprise. To her alarm, and shamefully her pleasure, Derek's weight pressed atop her. He grasped both her wrists in one large hand, and she gasped as he bound her with a short length of rope she hadn't known he had on his person. In moments she lay helpless, her lower arms tied snugly at the base of her spine.

Derek checked the ropes, ensuring they were snug without risking nerve damage, and then stood, rolling Deidre onto her back as casually as if she was a rag doll. He took up a position beside the door, his body set in a predator's stance, another coil of black jute in one hand. He smiled at her menacingly and flicked off the light switch beside the door, killing the naked, dim bulb which cast the only illumination in the room.

In the sudden darkness, she heard him laugh, the sound low and ominous.

"The real question," he rasped, "is whether you and your mistress are ready for _me?"_

# Chapter Seven

The door to the tiny room opened only seconds later. Scarlet entered quickly, allowing the door to close behind her. Deidre heard a gasp, a quick scuffle, a small, shrill cry of pain and a masculine grunt of effort. For a few seconds, the only sounds in the room were breathing and the slithering of rope being looped and pulled tight around skin.

When the light came back on, Deidre blinked fiercely to force her eyes to adjust, then stared up in slack-jawed shock. Derek held Scarlet firmly by the hair, her hands bound just like Deidre's, his hip thrust into the small of her back and his leg pressed into the back of her knee, controlling her center of gravity with practiced nonchalance.

Although vampires had a distinct advantage over most other creatures in terms of raw physical ability, they still had to do business with the laws of physics. Hunters trained from an early age to combat and counter preternatural threats, which meant they learned young how to fight effectively using techniques ranging from Krav Maga to Brazilian ju-jitsu to Tae Kwan Do. A cornered vampire could be a handful, but if they couldn't bring their augmented strength and athleticism to bear, they could also be neutralized with ease, albeit a certain amount of risk.

Scarlet wriggled, but to no avail. The combination of his hold on her hair, the tenuous footing of her heels made it all but impossible to get the traction she required to attempt to make a proper fight of it. Derek had Scarlet dead to rights, and she knew it.

"Ah, ah, ah," the Hunter tsked. "That will be _quite_ enough out of you."

After a long, tense moment, she stopped struggling.

"You two," he growled, his tone seething with wrath and something deeper and darker. "You tried to _web_ me."

He leaned into the vampire, made an abrupt movement, and Scarlet tumbled over Deidre to land beside her on the queen-sized mattress, head toward Deidre's feet and face toward the mattress, close enough for the succubus to feel the angry heat of the vampire's skin. Deidre marveled at Derek's dexterity, wondering how much of it was luck and how much was skill. Either way, it was a frighteningly understated demonstration of how drastically the odds had just tilted away from the women's favor.

"You broke the accords," Derek continued as if nothing of any consequence had happened. "Are you _trying_ to start a war? Because, believe you me, you just got one."

Scarlet snarled up from the bed, her voice slightly muffled on account of her awkward position. "You don't have that authority."

"I've read the treaty," Derek retorted. "Every word. You acted outside the lines. I'm within my rights to burn both of your lovely asses to ash, and no one would so much as say boo once I explained myself. Oh, the Order might wind up paying a little weregild on my behalf, and I'm sure I'd get a private scolding, but hey." He spread his hands wide, a mocking smile spreading across his face. "The House of the Black Rose would probably do nothing but scowl and mutter a bit, maybe quietly put out a hit on me, but they wouldn't do anything public or overt enough to trace back to them. As far as anyone else would ever officially know, you two fell foul of a Hunter and paid the price."

Five heartbeats passed, during which Deidre thought furiously. The Hunter was correct; under the terms of the treaty, Scarlet had been very naughty and dragged Deidre with her into the abyss. The letter of the law was quite clear.

"What's the other option?" Scarlet asked, her voice smaller as she seemed to contemplate her predicament and the danger to which she'd opened herself and her slave.

"Turnabout is fair play," Derek said, every line of his body projecting a lethal nonchalance. "I can ensorcel both of you and turn you into double agents working for me. That would eliminate the regrettable need to destroy you, so long as you behaved yourselves."

"You don't have that kind of power," Scarlet rasped.

He grinned like a jack o' lantern, with too many teeth and not enough humor. "Over you, no. My power set doesn't work on vampires. But demons, such as succubi—" He gave an almost Gallic shrug, conveying a half-dozen different things in the simple gesture. "—Are very much in my wheelhouse. If I control her, I control you by proxy."

He looked down at Deidre, his eyes narrow and terrifyingly bright. She followed his gaze as best she could and winced. Her cloak had fallen open slightly just off center, revealing a slice of bare skin from the brooch at her throat down over the swell of one breast, past her stomach and over one thigh, her cunt only just hidden by the hem of the garment, but her knee and foot exposed.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Scarlet asked, her voice taking on a thin, breathy edge.

He reached into the interior pocket of his duster and produced a stubby test tube full of something silvery which looked like glitter, secured with a cork. Around the bottle, a tightly folded piece of paper had been secured with two thick rubber bands. "A sprinkle of this, a quick spell and she's mine." He peered down at Scarlet, his expression wolfish and hungry. "And then you will be too."

# Chapter Eight

He knelt and drew the cloak aside, leaving Deidre exposed from the hollow of her throat to the soles of her shoes. In a couple of swift gestures, he pulled off her ballet-inspired flats and tossed them aside.

She stared up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. "Y—you can't do this!"

He scowled. These two denizens of the dark realms had tried to break him, bend him to their will, and now she had the audacity to tell him what he could and couldn't do? He chuckled darkly at her effrontery.

"Actually, I can. Under the treaty, if you attempt to enslave the will of another and they can break it, the person in question can return the favor with compound interest and no consequences." His face felt tight and wolfish, his cargo pants suddenly several sizes too tight as his body responded to the succubus's predicament in a most atavistic fashion.

"No. I mean, _the Order_ has no way to do that."

He wagged a finger under her nose, playfully. "Tsk, tsk. You think we walk around telling everyone in the world what we can do? If you knew half of what we're capable of, you would have chosen your prey with a good deal more care."

Scarlet hissed something just at the edge of his hearing.

"What was that?"

"I said you're a dead man, motherfucker. When the House of the Black Rose learns what you've done, they'll kill us all."

He shook his head. "I think not. I'm sure they'll try, and it will be entertaining as hell, but they won't get it done. I haven't survived this long by playing nice."

He rose to his feet, trying to ignore the vicious ache from his left knee, the legacy of an old injury. "Now. What say we get down to business?"

Opening the vial, he shook about a quarter of it over the recumbent succubus until her stomach and breasts sparkled muted silver. He paused for a moment to admire his handiwork and then unraveled the paper from around the vial quickly. Unfolding it, he took a moment to study the words on the paper, lines of alternating, spidery script and standard Roman characters.

The top line was the demonic script which the succubi, and so many of their Infernal cousins, used in their lore. Below that, the English transliteration of the words was written out phonetically, with careful notations on how to emphasize and accent each syllable. Careless Hunters throughout history had paid for this knowledge in blood, their failures leading to gruesome demises which still served the Order by showing them the right paths. After a millennium and a half, the Order's knowledge and library of demonic lore had swollen to such a degree their sworn enemies would have no choice but to rise _en masse_ and murder them all, and to hell with the consequences, if they had any idea just how formidable the Order truly was.

He scanned the paper three times, giving himself a three-second cushion ahead of his usual reading speed. Mispronunciations or hitches in his speech could be disastrous, even fatal, if they happened during the recitation. Clearing his throat, he spoke, his voice reverberating through the tiny room with a rich, rolling resonance.

"OL ALALARE EN ELASA ABRIATO CASARMA APETA CNOQVOL ADAGITA SOLPETH EN BIAL GAHALANA EN GEMAGANZA."

Deidre's back arched, her nipples tightening. Her hips thrust at the air, and her head thrashed about, her breath coming in soft little gasps which split the difference between pleasure and pain. Her eyes squeezed closed, and her body went rigid in what Derek could have sworn was an orgasm, based on the high-pitched cry she released.

Is that supposed to happen?

Whether it was supposed to or not, the flush in her cheeks and the sheen of moisture at her clean-shaven seam betrayed the truth. The succubus writhed for a moment in undeniable pleasure, then relaxed onto the mattress with a seductive, boneless grace. Her eyelids fluttered open, to reveal cornflower-blue irises and wide irises.

"Mmmm..." she murmured. Her shoulders tensed, and she hitched herself up onto her side using only the strength of her core, so she was facing Scarlet. Their relative positions left Deidre's face precisely in line with Scarlet's crotch, so close she could smell the subtle musk of the other woman's pussy. "My sister. I need you."

She craned her head forward, sticking her tongue out, and maneuvered under the broad strip of crimson cloth covering and outlining Scarlet's sex, which was crowned with red pubic hair, trimmed into a neat landing strip pressed down by the dark nylons. Deidre gave the revealed seam a long, lascivious upward lick, punctuated by a slow circle around the vampire's erect clit. She snarled at the ugliness of the nylon against her lips, but was powerless to do anything about it.

Derek pulled a small, sharp knife from the side pocket of his cargo pants and knelt, Deidre's eyes widening as she caught sight of the blade. He grasped the nylon firmly in his empty hand, pulling it away from Scarlet's crotch, and sheared the knife through the thin fabric with an evil little hissing noise. Replacing the knife in its sheath, he reached out once more and tugged at the nylon, widening the gap until the vampire's pussy and asshole were completely exposed.

"No. You can't. You mustn't." Scarlet moaned, her body stiffening, and then arched her hips, offering herself to the succubus's tongue. Derek's cock surged inside his pants, responding to the undeniable beauty of the sight of two women joined in such intimacy.

Scarlet hunched her hips off the bed and turned, graceless and artless compared to Deidre's fluid motions, finding Deidre's exposed slit and meeting it with her lips, returning the succubus's fevered kisses on her most intimate parts with equal fervor. Her eyes were tightly closed as if fearing to open them and acknowledge the reality of what she was doing, but she licked and nipped at Deidre's pussy as if it contained the requisite nourishment to restore someone who had been starving for a thousand years in an unrelenting desert.

The women writhed and wriggled, moans and gasps and tiny, shrill screams of pleasure filling the space. The sweet, salty tang of feminine juices and the light, soft undertone of sensual sweat hung in the close, warm air, making Derek's mouth water. Then Scarlet stabbed her tongue deep into Deidre's body until her mouth and the succubus's body met at her entrance. Deidre's eyes popped wide and then, with a long, low sigh, she shuddered into another climax.

Derek watched avidly, his anger at the attempted perfidy of the supernatural creatures before him burning to ash in the radiant heat of their obvious desire for one another. He tipped his cup and drank a little too deeply, causing him to cough. The women looked up from their intimate clinch, Deidre tilting her head awkwardly, Scarlet breaking away from Deidre, their faces identical masks of concern. He waved them off, gave his chest a couple of sharp raps with the heel of his hand, and croaked, "I'm okay."

Apparently content to take him at his word, the women returned to their _soixante-neuf,_ grinding against each other's faces until their chins and cheeks glimmered with the dewy evidence of the arousal each had awakened in the other. Although their bonds denied them the use of their hands, they used lips, hips, tongues and teeth to their best advantage, each devouring the other and being devoured in turn, their carnal explorations growing bolder and ranging further afield as they licked, sucked, nibbled, teased and coaxed one another into erotic bliss.

Finally, Scarlet scooted her hips backward, away from Deidre, panting with bliss hanging on the edge of agony.

The succubus whimpered like a little girl who'd been told she'd had enough Halloween candy, only to gasp once more as Scarlet lapped at her. Her hands contorted into claws behind her back, and Derek knew if they had been free, she would be digging her fingertips into Scarlet's shoulders to draw her in deeper.

Although Derek had orgasmed only a short while before, a red wave of lust occluded his vision, tinting everything in his line of sight in shades of burgundy, maroon and blood.

Kneeling, he touched Deidre's hands, checking to make sure they weren't cold from blood flow obstruction. The warmth of her flesh reassured him, and he guided her to a sitting position with her back against the wall, crotch thrust forward and legs akimbo. Then he urged Scarlet to her knees, arranging her so her tempting ass pointed skyward and her face pressed into Deidre's sex. The vampire bent her face to his will and the task at hand, slurping eagerly at Deidre, whose kewpie-doll face flushed and contorted with ecstasy.

He unzipped his fly, freeing his hard cock from its cloth prison, and pushed the band covering Scarlet's pussy aside. Both her lower entrances pouted and puckered at him, silently pleading to be filled. He reached down and stroked one hand over her slit, gathering up her juices until his fingers glistened with the evidence of her need, and then gentled them over her ass. She moaned loudly, stirring Deidre to yet another climax, and wriggled her rump at him as the tip of his thumb found her anus. Her tight hole puckered and relaxed, allowing the moistened tip of his digit in easily, clenching around him as Scarlet wailed with joy at the slow invasion.

With deliberate slowness, he pressed his cock into her pussy, her body opening easily and welcoming him in with wet, gentle warmth. She wailed as the head of his cock pierced her, working her hips in a desperate bid to take all his length.

He gave her a hard slap on the ass with his free hand, leaving a livid red mark on the pale flesh.

"Behave yourself," he growled. "And be grateful for what you're given."

He pushed forward another inch. And another. The scent of two women's erotic need blended into a pleasant perfume in his nostrils, Scarlet's piqued moans and Deidre's soft cries a lusty symphony in his ears. The vampire engulfed him in slick heat, and he slid deeper until his pubic bone pressed against the rondure of her ass.

Needing to feel more of her, he unbuckled his belt and unsnapped the button securing his pants, freeing his balls to swing up and slap lightly against Scarlet's nether lips as he began to thrust. The vampire arched upward and licked at Deidre's stomach, disturbing the silvery substance he had sprinkled on the succubus to bend her to his will.

Scarlet smacked her lips experimentally, nodded approval, then bent down again to lick at Deidre again. The succubus's eyes widened, and she looked into Derek's face boldly, her own features contorted with joy. His senses whirled, and he had the oddest sensation, as if he was fucking both women at the same time. He clenched his hands around Scarlet's buttocks, curving his fingers to the shape of her hips, and pushed deeper, quickening the tempo with increasing force.

Scarlet murmured something unintelligible, and he froze.

"Keep going!" she cried. "I'm so close. God, I need it. I need _you!"_

He complied gladly, keeping eye contact with Deidre, the electric but intangible link fueling the pleasure of the physical connection between him and the vampire, as his balls contracted and his cock spasmed, heralding his impending crisis.

Most nights, he would have stopped and allowed the sensation to pass, repeating the cycle of edging and falling back until the pressure in his scrotum became unbearable and the merest touch on his cock brought him off. Here and now, he lacked both interest and will to tease himself or his lovers, his need to pump his cum into the vampire bitch and brand her irrevocably as his with his vital fluid too great to ignore.

Derek pumped furiously, battering Scarlet's deepest parts in a frenzy, his hips slamming into her with bruising force. She screamed into Deidre's cunt as her climax tore through her, hurling Deidre into orgasm with her as her pussy contracted around his cock. He roared out his own release as he thrust deep one last time and emptied himself into Scarlet's body, feeling his cum splashing into her and back against his cockhead.

For a long, crystalline moment, he froze once more, his clawed hands leaving marks which would no doubt bruise before the next evening, savoring the softness and the lovely flush of liquid heat as Scarlet bathed his subsiding hardness in her rapture. Then he pulled back slowly, every sense alight, colors stinging his eyes, his skin electrically aware of every touch, the blended mélange of sexual aromas tangible in his nostrils and on his tongue, every breath and heartbeat commingled with the throb of bass from the music in the main room pressing on his eardrums.

He fell onto his side, watching as Deidre said, "Come here, Scarlet," tilting her chin to indicate where "here" was. The vampire complied swiftly, the women arranging themselves so Scarlet straddled her face, leaving just enough room for the succubus to breathe. Deidre slid her tongue into Scarlet, making the redhead shiver and quake as Deidre delved deep, lapping up the mix of concupiscent fluids with orgiastic zeal. Derek roused himself and crawled over Deidre, pulled the breast supports of Scarlets outfit aside to reveal her tight, puckered nipples. He sealed his lips to one breast, swirling his tongue over the nipple and punctuating the contact with light nips of his teeth. She shuddered, wailed and climaxed again as he reached down and found one of Deidre's breasts with one hand while he slipped a finger over Scarlet's clit with the other. In short order, both women came again, their orgasms washing over them simultaneously, and then collapsed languidly into a puppy pile of satiated feminine delight, lips meeting in exhausted euphoria.

Derek said, "You belong to me, now."

The women replied in stereo, voices blurred like tousled silk. "We belong to you."

He began to work at the ropes binding their wrists, and had them free in short order, the double-column ties falling away easily. They twitched their hands, wiggled their fingers and demonstrated full function to his satisfaction.

Once he felt secure neither of them had suffered any lasting harm, he brought the remnants of their drinks, admiring the livid red herringbone ligature marks on their lower arms. The traces would subside over the course of several hours, but for now, they fairly glowed against the women's pale skin as visible and undeniable evidence of his command over the supernatural beings.

"Let's go home, you two. I'm not done with you yet."

The women clambered off the bed, clearing the way for him. He did up his pants as they put their outfits to rights, making sure they were suitably clad to be in public. In short order, they left the club, exchanging friendly farewells with TJ, Valerie and a few other cohosts and regulars as they made their exit.

In the parking lot, Derek held out his hand.

"Keys."

Scarlet spirited up the demanded items without protest, and the women piled into the backseat. He watched as they buckled up and then sagged against one another in identical postures of sex-drugged, sleepy pleasure. Once they were secured, he shut the doors, opened the driver door and settled himself.

_Thank God I don't have far to drive,_ he thought, the words floating across his consciousness in a blissed-out, cotton candy blur.

# Chapter Nine

Pulling into the driveway, Derek brought the car smoothly to a stop, killed the engine and glanced over his shoulder at the women.

Each snored with light, gentle breaths, barely audible over the ticking of the cooling engine. They were snuggled up as close as the seatbelts would permit, Deidre curled into Scarlet like a small animal seeking shelter from the elements while Scarlet draped an arm protectively over Deidre's shoulder. It was a protective, childlike, loving posture which confirmed their antics at the club had not been performative, at least not wholly. They had done those things for his benefit, true, but in the end, they had each acted from their own desire and love for each other. He had merely been the outrageously fortunate beneficiary of that reflected affection.

Withdrawing the key from the ignition, Derek pocketed them and pulled out his phone. He pressed his finger to the print reader, then selected an app, touched a control and closed it, opening another right behind it. Light blazed from the front entry as the house responded to Derek's commands. He opened the door and stepped out, then leaned back in to face the women.

"Hmm?" Scarlet murmured, her voice blurred by sleep.

"We're here," Derek said.

"'Kay," she said softly, reaching down to give Deidre a gentle shake, then another, firmer one when the succubus didn't respond.

Deidre's eyes fluttered open. "Are we home?"

"Yes," Derek said.

The word sent both women scrambling to disentangle from each other and their restraints, moving quickly and efficiently as they piled out of the car. Derek closed his door and began walking toward the house, the women falling in line obediently, Deidre right behind him and Scarlet in the drag position. He opened the door, which he'd unlocked with the other app, and strode inside, holding the door just enough for Deidre to catch it without risking injury. Then he walked down the short hallway and into the living room, tossing his hat heedlessly onto the coat rack at the entrance as he passed. Without removing his coat, he stalked to the large black leather recliner in the corner and sat, relaxing into the chair as if drifting into a hot bath.

He closed his eyes for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his face to alleviate the weariness the adrenaline and activities of the night had pressed upon him as he weighed his options.

Part of him wanted desperately to just haul himself upstairs and go to bed, painfully aware he was no longer as young as he had once been. It had been a very long and active evening, and the confrontation with Leroy with its accompanying surge of adrenaline hadn't helped matters at all. Besides, the feel of the two women flanking him would quickly send him to sleep, secure in the knowledge he had established whose power was greater and they would be unable and unwilling to try to move against him now.

Another, more primal part of him stirred and clawed its way to full, hungry wakefulness, bellowing its need. At his age, two orgasms in a night was usually one more than he could manage. Tonight, he felt like he could fuck until dawn was only a distant memory, spurred on by the women's lusty desire.

Whispers of motion punctuated by the rustle of various fabrics penetrated his reflection. Resolutely, he kept his eyes closed until a soft, syncopated flurry of thumps sounded against the hardwood floor and then faded to silence broken only by the background hum of the climate control system and the susurrus of breathing.

He opened his eyes to find Scarlet and Deidre on their knees before him, both nude but for the chokers at their throats. Their postures were identical portraits of submission, buttocks flush to their heels, backs straight, palms upward with the backs of their hands resting on their thighs, heads cast demurely downward.

Something constricted and broke inside his chest at the sight, adoration and red erotic craving burning away his exhaustion as if someone had dosed him with an IV of Red Bull.

Flicking his eyes to the left, he noted with approval the women had neatly folded their garments and left them stacked in a pile on the dining room table. Their shoes lay on the floor beneath the table, close enough for convenience but not obstructing the walkway. He pursed his lips in a repressed smile of pleasure at the women's initiative.

"Rise," he commanded. The women did, their movements precisely coordinated, hands folded behind their backs, feet slightly more than shoulder width apart, stomachs in, breasts thrusting outward, hips tilted ever so slightly forward to leave their mounds exposed and clearly visible.

He stood as well, drawing himself to his full height. A dull twinge of pain throbbed through his back, but he carefully schooled his expression to keep any indication of it off his face as he stepped into Scarlet's personal space, so close he could smell the remnants of wine and cunt on her breath. He extended his hand, laying it flat against the warm skin between her breasts to feel her heartbeat. It began to speed up, although her eyes never flickered from the arbitrary point she'd chosen to stare at on the wall.

Keeping his touch resolutely light, he smoothed his hand down her body, delighting in the soft, heated skin under his fingers, the delicate outward pooch of her stomach, the tantalizing divot of her belly button. She drew in a sharp breath as he found the sensitive spot on the underside of the curve of her stomach, just above her hipline, and gave the area a teasing flick of his fingers.

"Does that feel good?"

She started to nod, checking the motion before her head moved more than a quarter inch. "Yes, Master," she said, her voice quavering with eagerness.

His hand skimmed lower, the springy copper thatch between her thighs crinkling beneath his fingers. He palmed her mound with the full length of his hand until she shivered, slowly closing his fingers until he had a fistful of her love fur. Then he tugged, lightly but firmly, drawing a gasp from her.

"Do you like that, whore?"

She moaned. "Yes, Master."

He pressed his hand more insistently against her, increasing the pressure and the pain by the tiniest increments he was capable of until she gave a subvocal whimper and her body rewarded him with a trickle of liquid want. Although her hips tilted forward to grant him freer access, she maintained her posture and bearing to a parade-ground perfection which would make the saltiest Marine drill instructor weep for joy, the only hint of her inner turmoil the accelerated pace of her breathing.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You, Master."

"Whose cunt is this?"

"Yours, Master."

He smiled in a way he'd once been told the Big Bad Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood might have done after devouring Grandma as he slipped his middle finger between her labia to find her slick and trembling with anticipation. Her clit pressed against his finger, her hips wiggling with a languid rhythm to urge the pad of his fingertip against her bud.

"Do you like it when I manhandle you, whore?"

This time she couldn't repress the shiver which wracked her body from head to toe. "God, yes, Master," she panted, the pitch of her voice less than an octave from a whimper. "I'm your eager, needy, dirty, filthy cocksleeve, Master," she added without prompting, the tempo of her undulations into his touch becoming more pronounced.

He allowed her to rub herself into his hand, her breathing fast and shallow and sweat beading on her skin, until he felt the telltale stiffening and twitching of her clit, signaling her impending climax. Then he pulled away, his finger wet and glistening from her body, ignoring her indignant whimper as he left her quivering right on the verge, unable to go forward but too close to pull back.

Lifting his hand up to the light, he rubbed her essence critically between his fingers as if he'd never seen such a thing before. Her juice had a delightful, silken texture and a scent which always reminded him of wildflowers under a morning mist. He sniffed experimentally, as if testing the quality of a hand-rolled cigar, and helped himself to a taste, savoring the delicate briny sweetness as it burst on his tongue.

The urge to fall to his knees and press his mouth to her, drinking her desire right from the source, very nearly derailed his plans. With an Olympian effort of will, he forced himself back on track. Pressing his soaked fingers to her mouth, he hooked his other arm around her shoulders and nudged her forward gently but firmly so he stood behind and against her left shoulder, his groin pressed to the swell of her hip.

She opened her lips and accepted his fingers in, taking the tips on her tongue like a communion wafer before swirling her tongue around them, eyelids fluttering closed with sensuous abandon. In a sudden paroxysm, she lunged forward, driving his fingers almost to the back of her throat, suckling her juices off him as eagerly as she had sucked his cock at the gloryhole. He groaned aloud as his cock stiffened, as thick and firm as though the two mind-bending orgasms he'd already had tonight had never occurred.

With genuine regret, he withdrew his now-pristine fingers from the silken softness of Scarlet's mouth, which quirked down at the corners into a little moue of piqued disappointment before she could catch herself.

"Soon, little one," he whispered.

Now it was Deidre's turn, and he lavished the same attention on her as he had on Scarlet. Her cleanly presented vulva offered no hair to grab onto, but he made do with skin, to her obvious delight. When he found her clit, she cooed and sighed, arching her hips forward at such an extreme angle her head fell backward.

"Please," she whispered. "God, please, Master. Please."

"Please what, little slut?"

"Please fuck me, Master."

"Where should I fuck you, little slut?"

She groaned as he found the perfect rhythm to bring her higher, closer to her peak. "In the ass. Or your soaking wet cunt. I don't care, Master, just please fill me up with cock and cum!"

Her body tensed in the telltale signal of her impending crisis, and he pulled back, offering her his nectar-soaked fingers. She devoured her liquor avidly, her face kittenish and mischievous as she met his eyes, slurping at his fingers with unabashed rapture which only made his already-sensitized cock even more painfully ready.

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Go get the strap-on, ropes, vibrator and wine. Do you understand?"

She nodded eagerly, hurrying up the stairs without a word as he turned back to Scarlet.

"Are you all right?"

She tilted her head a little to the left. After a moment she said, "Yes."

"Are you certain? We can end this right now, but it will be your last chance."

She shrugged, a helpless little gesture. "I'm okay, Master." Her face turned resolute, and she smiled. "I want this. I want us to give this to you."

He pressed his lips to hers, invading her with a brutal, punishing kiss which left her eyes heavy with lust and her breasts heaving as she gasped in air, letting her feel the firm proof of his own desire against her body. When he pulled away, his own breathing came fast and hard, and his voice rasped in his own ears.

"Then grab the pillows off the couch and place them on the floor."

She scrambled to comply, giving him a lovely view of the heartbreak cleft of her ass and the pouting, glistening lips of her pussy as she did so. The undeniable male part of him enjoyed the show, while another, more calculating part considered her movements, her tone, her speech, probing and questing for any sign that he should end this. Finding none sufficiently definitive to give him clear guidance otherwise, he made his decision.

# Chapter Ten

Scarlet set the pillows down, one to cradle her neck and the other at the small of her back. Then she laid herself down, the floor slightly but not unpleasantly cool against her heated skin, and turned her head slightly so she could see Derek and the stairs at the same time.

Deidre bustled downstairs, her arms laden with various lengths of rope in black and red, plus a long, heavy white vibrator with an outsized head. A low leather harness rode around her generous hips, supporting a purple dildo which jutted and bobbed ludicrously in the air as she navigated the steps. From the angle offered by her vantage point on the floor, Scarlet could just make out the opening behind the front harness and the delicious pink seam of Deidre's pussy.

The succubus set the ropes down on the armchair and then scurried off again. Derek examined the ropes minutely, considering each with the appraising eye of a jeweler examining the cut of a stone. Reaching down, he chose a coil of rope and unraveled it. The rope fell apart smoothly, and he mated the ends together, pinching them between one thumb and forefinger as he stretched out the modest doubled length, locating the center of the rope.

He checked his work twice, frowning, and then formed a lark's head, doubling the rope back on itself through the bight to form a stout loop.

She stretched her arms over her head and placed her palms together in an attitude of prayer. The time to fight him was over, even if she'd still had the will to do so.

Of course, she still had a few reservations. What sane woman, what sane person, wouldn't? But she had committed to her course and would not turn back now. It had nothing to do with sorcery or magic or Deidre's wiles or Derek's innate, commanding power, although elements of all those things played their parts.

Ultimately, it was her choice, her right, and she had chosen to give herself freely and without stinting. Now she could only suffer, or enjoy, the consequences.

She willed herself to relax into passivity, squirming against the insistent, heated throb from her center as Derek prowled across the room toward her. Kneeling, he looped the lark's head over her arm, starting just above her wrists, then looping it around and over the other arm, forward and back. He moved with the calm, meditative air of a martial arts master performing katas, or an origami practitioner folding complicated animals from paper. Every measured movement, every slithering loop of the rope against her skin, was crafted and calibrated to bind her tighter without wasting needless effort or energy.

With a swift rustle, he tied off the rope below her elbows, leaving a long trailing end with a terminal loop. He tested the tension and tightness by slipping two fingers in between the outside coils of the tie. Satisfied, he rose, stripping off his coat, and tossed it heedlessly onto the chair before retrieving another, longer coil.

This time, he formed the lark's head and attached it to her leg just below the shin. But instead of binding her legs together, he fed the other end of the rope through a pair of eyehooks set into the low ceiling, about four feet apart, raising her leg out and up at an angle which left her just enough range of motion to flex her hips slightly without causing pain. The implication was clear: whatever he had in mind for her, she would not be permitted to be an active participant.

Her perception of the situation was only reinforced when Derek drew the working end down from the ceiling and tied it around her free leg, leaving her open, exposed and utterly vulnerable. Finally, he took the trailing end of the rope binding her arms and tied it to the leg rope, raising her arms so her hands centered on her nose and taking the last bit of freedom of motion she had with the rope's slack.

As he fiddled with the rope, making final adjustments, Scarlet realized Deidre had come back into the room. She stood carefully out of Derek's way, cradling a bottle of Shiraz. The youthful uncertainty on her face accorded ill with the somehow menacing aspect of the artificial purple appendage jutting from between her legs. Part of Scarlet ached to comfort her, to speak and reassure her she was fine, that this could and would only happen if she permitted it.

Another part of her simply ached.

Apparently content with Scarlet's position and the rope, he drew himself to his full height.

"Rope check," he said.

Scarlet wriggled her fingers, toes, hands and feet, then her arms and legs as best the rope would permit. "I'm fine," she said, running the numbers as she did. She registered no numbness, tingling, coldness or other abnormal sensations which hinted at a potential circulation or nerve impingement problem. Such issues could range from inconvenient to incapacitating or even life-threatening, and she knew it was not in her own best interest not to keep symptoms to herself.

"You're sure?" he pressed.

"Yes," she said.

"All right." He turned to Deidre. "Wine?"

She passed it over. He took a sniff from the mouth of the bottle, eyebrows raised, and smiled. "That will do. Run upstairs and get the blindfold."

Scarlet gulped, her core clenching desperately. She was already quite sensitive on an average day, and having her sight blocked lent every sensation an exquisite immediacy which blurred pleasure and pain into a singular, description-defying experience. Still, the undeniable flush of wetness betrayed her deeper craving to be taken. To be tamed.

To be humbled.

Deidre rushed back, slapping the blindfold into his outstretched hand. The black leather mask, trimmed with faux fur, crouched in his grip like a spider. He knelt once more, securing the mask over Scarlet's face and drawing the head strap taut. "Too tight?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Okay."

A cool, crawling shock lit up Scarlet's stomach, sliding down from between her breasts and over her stomach. She winced and writhed, but the ropes held her firm, unable to do anything to cringe away from the coldness. But before she could say anything, warmth and the unmistakable tickle of Derek's beard met the chill, followed by more warmth and a softer, smoother touch further down. It took a moment for her to realize Derek and Deidre were licking and sucking the wine off her skin, the heat of their mouths chasing the relative cold of the wine away, leaving luscious tingles in their wake.

The cold came again, then the warmth, then the cold again, cycling through temperatures until her whole body became a brilliant neon sign flashing an ardent "YES!" Her pussy lips plumped and pouted, her core flexing ineffectually with longing to be touched and filled, nipples tightening to aching erectness. They took their time, switching sides, sliding ever lower down her torso, the feeling growing stronger.

A light click and a firm buzz against her inner thigh coaxed a fevered moan from her lips. Someone—she no longer knew or cared who—was lapping at her wine-filled belly button, using her as a cup while the other person frosted her left nipple with wine only to banish the chill with their mouth, then the right, then the left again. All the while, the vibrator inched closer to her seam, pulsing at her skin and setting every nerve ending ablaze, but never quite reaching her ravenous center.

Another burst of cool wetness just below her navel triggered an answering flush of heat from within her, the lips and tongue working lower, nibbling and kissing and licking away the wine from her skin as the delightful assault on her breasts continued, expanding outward to find the upper slopes and the crevices beneath her tits. Her entire body shook with covetous need, and she sighed as the vibrator finally made its way to the crease where the dimple of her inner thigh met the tender flesh leading to her lips, teasing her with blissful shudders.

Derek's lips met her own, his beard scratching pleasantly at her chin. She opened to him, to be rewarded with a mouthful of wine. The sheer dirtiness of being fed this way threatened to tip her into climax right then and there, but she managed to summon just enough willpower to fend off her orgasm, knowing she would have to wait for permission.

Then a hot, probing tongue met her quaking slit.

She squealed and arched her hips, giving Deidre better access to her secret flesh. The succubus's tongue swooped and dove, finding Scarlet's clit, the avaricious entrance to her sex, the tighter opening below, lavishing each structure and aperture with passionate abandon, drawing Scarlet closer to the edge with every flick, lap and brush. Meanwhile, the mouth above her own continued to ravage her, breathing in her cries and squeals of pleasure and need, the breath entering her harsh and ragged.

When Deidre's mouth left her sex, she gave an indignant, inarticulate squawk, her speech hampered by Derek's firm kisses. She struggled to slither away, but again she could not. The vibrator slipped away from her skin. She panted, her breath hot and sharp. There was only Derek's mouth against hers, her cunt dripping impotent wetness down the crack of her ass and onto the curves of her thighs.

A nudge against her lips and the angry hum of the vibrator against her clit were the only warning she received.

With a lush liquid ease, something thick and firm entered her, seeking and finding the most remote depths of her with no resistance at all. She dimly noted the feel of leather butting against her skin but didn't care who was filling her. All that mattered was the filling itself, the slow slide and the tortuous withdrawal, the ridges of the ersatz cock finding the secret places which turned all her senses inside out with iniquitous ease.

Derek withdrew from her mouth, and Deidre hurried to take his place, her softer lips soothing but no less rapturous after Derek's as her hips worked, battering at Scarlet's, her impish tongue bearing Scarlet's own taste into her mouth.

I love this woman.

# Chapter Eleven

Deidre's senses whirled as she thrust into Scarlet. The vampire's mouth tasted of wine and male cum and Deidre's own hot, eager cunt, and Deidre reveled in the savor as she kissed her. With every thrust of the strap-on, Deidre's own cunt gaped wide around the end of the toy seated in her body, allowing her pleasure as she gave it to Scarlet in turn.

She lifted her hips, pressing the vibrator between them so it would find the perfect spot, and sank down to allow her own body weight to hold it firmly in position. It met her clit precisely, and Scarlet whimpered against her mouth, telling her she felt it too.

Once Derek left her field of vision, she paid him no mind until she felt broad, blunt fingers clawing at her ass cheeks, parting them to his gaze. She hoped he saw the sheen of the lubricant she had applied upstairs to ensure all her holes were ready for his use without need for prolonged foreplay. As she delighted in his rough treatment of her ass, she pummeled Scarlet even harder, working her ass up and down to give Derek the best show she possibly could.

The unmistakable sound of a zipper preceded the prodding of something hot and firm against her anus. Instinctively she froze, offering herself to the onslaught as she felt herself pressed open and Derek's cock slipped past the slick ring of muscle to slide slowly into her.

Deidre moaned aloud, luxuriating in the hardness penetrating her from behind, the way it breached her bowels with heedless ease, pushing her inner walls apart to make room for itself. With her strap-on plunged to its limit in Scarlet, and the scratchy hair surrounding Derek's cock announcing he was fully encased in her back passage, her heart swelled with delight and love for the people who surrounded her in a cocoon of lusty devotion.

He pulled back slowly, so slowly, as if afraid to hurt her, and then slid forward to bottom out inside her once more, then withdrew. She began to match her pace and force to Derek's, knowing it would drive Scarlet utterly mad to be teased that way. As he surged forward, she pushed into Scarlet, using the vampire's hips as a backstop to absorb some of the force of Derek's thrusts.

Harder and faster they went, the buzzing of the vibrator, the pummeling push and pull of flesh meeting hungry flesh and the scents of sweat and arousal filling Deidre's senses, spiraling endlessly upward until she felt her soul must surely rip loose of its physical moorings to spin away into eternity.

Scarlet whimpered. Howled. Screamed in delirious joy as her orgasm detonated inside her, her body going rigid beneath Deidre's.

"Fuck me! Oh, God, don't stop! Fill me up with that cock and make me your whore!" Scarlet wailed, flexing her hips as she begged for more.

Deidre didn't disappoint her, slamming into her with increasing speed and force until she got ahead of Derek, his cockhead slipping out of her rosebud with a loud pop. He growled something incoherent, seizing her hips hard enough to spike luxurious pleasure/pain through her whole being. He stabbed himself back into Deidre and began to pump ferociously, his hot breath on her neck the triumphant snarl of a predator at the end of a hunt. One viselike hand came away from her hip to find her breasts, squeezing them tight with animalistic frenzy.

The combination of delectation and dolor, of soft womanly skin and hard, unyielding manflesh undid her, and she yelped out her release as she and Scarlet came as one, blissful shudders of ecstasy blending and reverberating, feeding each other as the women came and came, relishing the erotic gluttony as it crested and ebbed only to swell even higher.

Behind her, she felt Derek's cock expand and firm to impossible solidity, his pumps coming erratic and powerful, his balls tightening as he fucked her ass for all he was worth until he groaned and collapsed onto her. He convulsed and his cock let go, releasing a torrent of molten lava into her body. She cried out in one last triumphant paroxysm, kissed Scarlet's lips and pumped her back over the edge again.

# Chapter Twelve

Derek looked around him, bleary-eyed. There was a gap several minutes long in his memory after his third wracking orgasm of the night. At some point, someone had freed Scarlet from her bonds, which lay in a messy tangle on the floor several feet away. The women huddled against him, legs over his hips, sheltering him in a tangle of soft, sweet-smelling heat. Deidre snored lightly against one shoulder; Scarlet trailed butterfly-wing kisses over his cheek and neck.

She realized his eyes were open and smiled.

"How do you feel?"

Derek nodded. "Amazing. You?"

She purred and nuzzled against his throat. "That was delicious, Master."

He grinned.

"Are you—"

A crash and tinkle of broken glass from the front of the house brought him to his feet, fighting his way free of the women's embrace. Deidre jolted awake with a small cry. Scarlet's face tensed.

"What was that?"

"I don't know!" he snapped. "You two stay here."

He charged into the kitchen to find the upper windowpane smashed to hell and back, apparently by the large fragment of brick which sprawled in a welter of glittering shards of glass on the vinyl tile of the floor. Cold wind and rain gusted into the kitchen through the opening.

"Fuck!"

Turning, he rushed into the hallway and out the front door, grateful he hadn't removed his boots. He heard shushing, running feet ahead of him, and poured on the speed, rounding the corner to find a large, broad-shouldered silhouette pelting away. The streetlights glistened on the damp smoothness of the figure's scalp.

Leroy!

He pelted forward, his anger and fear for his women lending speed and power to his strides. His vision narrowed to a black tunnel through which only Leroy's growing figure could be seen.

Leroy turned to look back at him, his eyes wide.

It was the wrong move.

Derek shot one leg out, hooking the larger man's ankle and sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap. Before he could recover, Derek swarmed atop him like a sentient and exceedingly angry swarm of bees, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his chin.

"What. The. Actual. _FUCK._ Do you. Think. You're doing," Derek panted.

"I didn't d—"

Derek pushed his face right up into Leroy's, so close he could smell what the other man had had for dinner.

"Yes. Leroy. You _did,"_ he snarled. "You know it. I know it. You know that I know it. So let's not play games, shall we?"

Scarlet rushed up behind them, wrapped in Deidre's cloak. "Master, should I call the police?"

Derek nodded. "Tell them I've apprehended a prowler and that they should hurry."

Leroy's face contorted into a mask of fear. "Hey, look, I'll pay for the window."

Derek scowled. "Nowhere near good enough. You've threatened my House, Leroy. I won't stand for that." He thought for a moment as a problem occurred to him. "Wait a goddamn minute. How did you know where I live?"

"Followed you from the club," Leroy muttered. "Thought it would serve you right to get a good scare. You should have shared."

Derek's entire being went cold, only part of it due to the drizzling rain and the chill in the air. This was a deeper, all-consuming cold which froze the searing rage born of fear for the ones he loved and transformed it into something darker and more dangerous, building it into a towering, crystalline-edged edifice of purest wrath.

"I will say this one last time, Leroy. I suggest you listen."

Derek leaned forward, pressing his lips against Leroy's ear. The larger man tried to buck him off, but Derek had all the leverage and Leroy knew it.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to turn you over to the cops. I'm also going down Monday morning to swear out a restraining order on you against me and my girls. If I see you within a mile of my home for any reason, I will assume you didn't pay attention this time and I'll deal with you. Permanently." Derek raised himself up so Leroy could see his face. Whatever Leroy saw there blanched his skin to the greyish yellow-white of cleaned bones.

"Look, man," Leroy pleaded, "I've already got a record. If I get sent up, I'm looking at five to ten years."

"So you'll be out in a year or three," Derek said coldly. "Big deal."

"No, you don't get it. I'll probably have to do day-for-day," Leroy insisted, his eyes welling up.

_That sounds like a you problem, Bucky._ "I don't give a fuck, Leroy," Derek retorted. "I told you to leave me and mine alone. You didn't listen. Time to pay the piper, asshole."

Leroy began to buck furiously, his strength fueled by adrenaline and fear. He twisted to his right, then his left, the movement ferocious and unexpected enough to knock Derek off him and deposit him in a sprawling heap on the ground. Derek could only watch helplessly as Leroy regained his feet and ran, arms pumping and legs churning, to a large white land yacht a few dozen feet away. The man leapt into the car, kicked over the ignition, and sped off into the night, the license plate light giving Derek a grand view of the number.

Derek grinned, then began to laugh.

Scarlet, who had been murmuring into her phone, put it away.

"What's funny?"

"I got his license plate number, the dumb fuck." Derek made it to his knees, but the gales of laughter doubled him back over on the wet pavement. "He's not getting far."

* * * * *

Nearly two hours later, the police had gone away with their report and a promise to send out an APB for Leroy's car. Deidre had cleaned up the glass while Derek was outside dealing with Leroy. Derek was just placing the last staples into the second of two panels of plastic sheeting as a temporary fix for the broken window when Scarlet's phone chimed. She answered, her face grim and serious.

"Hello?...Yes... _Really?_ You did? When?...That's excellent news. Yes, we still want to press charges." She froze and shot a questioning look at Derek, who nodded. "Yes, we'll file a restraining order on Monday...Thank you for letting me know. Yes, of course, Detective...You too."

She hung up the phone, her face somber. "They caught him."

Derek smiled. "Good."

"He says you assaulted him."

Derek waved that away. "Technically true, but I told the cops that and they didn't seem to think it was any big thing." He waved his hands in a theatrical "no strings" gesture. "You can tell by the lack of police-issued jewelry. If it becomes a thing, I'll deal with that as it comes."

Deidre came into the room behind Derek and put her arms around him.

"That was scary."

He pressed a kiss to her head. "I know, little one."

"That's not going to happen again, is it?"

He smiled down at her, trying to keep his face tender rather than wolfish. "No, babygirl, it isn't. The cops caught him and with his record, we probably won't see him again for a good long while."

She sighed. "I hope so."

He turned away from her, just long enough to snap the last two heavy-duty staples into place, and then back again.

"Look," he suggested. "Why don't you and Scarlet get out the DarkReach stuff and calc up how everyone did tonight?"

Deidre frowned. "Can we go to bed after that?"

He nodded. "Of course, little one."

"'Kay," she said, yawning hugely.

Scarlet lingered for a moment.

"Are we still going to collar her tomorrow?"

He turned to face her fully, standing against one side of the arched entry, arms folded just below her breasts, eyes heavy with weariness.

"If you think I shouldn't, now's the time to tell me."

She shook her head. "No. She's a perfect addition to the House, and I'm glad we have her," Scarlet said. "I was just worried that with everything with Leroy, we might have to put it off."

He frowned. "No need for that. One has literally nothing to do with the other, right?"

Scarlet smiled. "Right."

He considered her intently. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Which part?"

"Any. All. I don't know," he said, making a helpless little hand gesture.

She pushed off the wall and slinked toward him. "You know if you hadn't had such damnably epic dice rolls, this night would have ended very differently."

He groaned ruefully. "That botch on the potion roll nearly did me in. If I hadn't been so lucky with the high rolls after, I'd be the one on my knees." He paused and raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "In game, of course."

"So, would you say your first LARPing experience was a success, Master?"

He thought about it for a moment and smiled. "Definitely. Especially if it leads to more shenanigans like tonight!" He stopped, pressing his lips together. "Well. Except the ones involving Leroy. _Those_ I think we could all do without."

She smirked and pressed into him for a kiss. He blinked and then chuckled.

When she pulled away, she asked, "What's so funny?"

"You took your fangs out."

"Just before the cops showed up," she confirmed. "I thought it wouldn't look good to greet them wearing a pair of plastic fangs."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

"Do you think we played our roles well tonight?" Scarlet asked.

"I did," he said with a grin. "The slightly archaic speech patterns added a nicely authentic touch, I thought."

From the dining room, Deidre asked, "Does anyone want something to drink?"

Derek called back, "I'll get some iced tea in here, thank you."

"Scarlet?" Deidre called.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay!"

Derek put away the tools, poured himself a glass of tea and then gave Scarlet one swift peck on the cheek. "Come on. Let's go tally up the damage."

Deidre was staring at her character sheet, idly shuffling her cornflower-blue ten-sided gaming dice from hand to hand. "I still don't understand how to calculate this. It says I should get bonus points for two successful enchantments—" She pointed at each of them in turn. "—but apparently I only get half the Seduction bonus because you shook it off in less than five turns," she said, keeping her finger fixed on Derek.

Derek tilted his head. "I don't really understand it either," he said. "All I know is I came out on top in the roll-off, and we just played out what the dice said happened. By the way, the gloryhole was delicious. Thank you both for that." He smiled. "That's one more off my bucket list."

Scarlet smiled. "You're welcome. By the way, Mr. Hunter, what was that stuff you sprinkled on Deidre?"

He grinned. "Diabetic-friendly body glitter. Artificial sweetener, just in case either of you licked it up and then went down on each other."

"Smart," she said. "You have some serious Prestige points coming your way, what with having successfully countered and corralled two members of the House of the Black Rose to your will. A couple of very handy little spies for the Order running around, if I say so myself." She flicked her tongue over her lips lasciviously.

"Handy indeed," Derek grinned. "And what about you?"

Scarlet shrugged. "I lost a couple of Blood points for not feeding. Nothing serious. But my Willpower score is going to bite the dust and you don't even want to know what it's going to take me to undo the damage to my Face score," she said with a self-mocking sneer, referring to the score which indicated how well- or ill-disposed other members of the mythic supernatural races of DarkReach were toward the player characters.

"That bad, huh?"

She smiled. "It was worth it, Master."

Deidre's voice rang out again. "How do I calculate Demonic Binding modifiers?"

Scarlet shook her head. "I'll have to read the manual on that one again," she said softly.

Derek guided her into the dining room. Deidre frowned at her character sheet, as if unsure whether she was viewing it right side up or not. He beckoned Deidre to join them, and she did. Then they all folded into a kiss, everyone touching everyone else, gentle and sweet in stark contrast to the voracious carnality of the rest of the night.

"I love you both," he said.

"We love you too, Master," the women answered in perfect stereo.

Deidre still looked piqued. "Any idea how to calculate the modifiers?"

"I'm not sure," he answered, giving Scarlet a broad wink.

"It's Scarlet's game."

Dedications

As with any other story, this one didn't just spring to life wholly formed and complete unto itself. Because of that, special thanks are due to some very special people:

To the readers and reviewers, past, present, and future, who keep me going when I'm not sure there's anything to keep going for;

To the women of House Unicron, past and present: Skwirly, Sparrow, Kitten, Dolphin, Otter, Firefly and Mouse. All of you helped to make me and my House what we are today, through so many twists and turns. Some of us still feel the love. Some do not. Regardless, I thank you, one and all, and most especially those who have stayed the longest and served me and House Unicron best.

Nobilitas servitio penitus perfectam caritatem et fidem et fiduciam.

And very special thanks is due to Kati Marshall and author Charlie Knight. Y'all know why.

Thank you, each and every one, from the bottom of my heart.

About the Author

Born in Amarillo, Texas, J.S. Wayne has lived, worked and traveled through roughly ¾ of the contiguous United States. An author in multiple genres, a misanthropic humanitarian and cynical optimist, he spends most of his time turning words into money as an SEO consultant and article and blog writer, filling the balance of his hours as a storyteller, novelist and polyamorous kink practitioner and educator under the nom de guerre "Lord Unicron." He is fascinated by the use of language, human sexuality, occultism, quantum physics and trying to figure out just what the hell the lyrics to "I Am The Walrus" were actually trying to say.

J.S. enjoys hearing from his readers, fans and those in the kink community. He can be reached by email at jerichoswayne@gmail.com; on Facebook at Jericho Wayne; or through Twitter and Tumblr @iamlordunicron.

If you enjoyed this book, I would greatly appreciate it if you would take the time to write a review. I personally read all of these to ensure I consistently deliver the best, most accurate and enjoyable work possible. Thank you for your attention!

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### Dusk

Three people. Two worlds. One love. One galactic threat.

On the remote border world of Dusk, the Dusk Diplomatic Corps serves their planet as diplomats and aristocrats. A bombshell lands on the Corps when Terra sends a request for negotiations to begin mining the planet's most vital resource: magickstone, a uniquely rare element that allows those exposed to it to use magick and to live an unusually prolonged and vital life. Olivia Gunnarson and her lover, Merrick Grissom, believe Terra's real reason for wanting to mine magickstone is their desire for a new and devastating weapon of galactic conquest.

On Terra, Marine Corps Colonel Pedro Silva is dispatched as part of the Terran diplomatic team to serve as a military attaché. En route, he is advised of the unthinkable: The sitting head of the DDC, Ambassador Nils Trelawney, has been assassinated. A new and untested diplomat, Olivia Gunnarson, has been tasked to take his place. What Pete doesn't count on is that the outwardly demure ambassador possesses a wild streak...and her bodyguard-lover will do anything to keep his charge safe and happy. But with an assassin in the shadows and diplomatic relations between Dusk and Terra in jeopardy, will a love affair save them or destroy them all?

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### Wail

Heather Kelly knows next to nothing about her family history, but with a new child on the way and her husband deployed to Afghanistan, learning about her roots suddenly becomes vitally important to her. Especially when a warning conveyed through a Ouija board by persons unknown implies that her ignorance may be placing both Heather and the baby she carries in mortal danger...

With the assistance of an unusual group of friends, Heather quickly learns that folklore and myth have their own truth. For hidden in the gnarled and tangled branches of her family tree is a secret so dark it has become a part of the national character of the Emerald Isle itself. Heather soon finds herself face to face with the most dreaded figure from Irish legend: the banshee.

Heather's journey takes her from Marblehead, Massachusetts, to Malin Head, Ireland on a quest to learn the truth behind the legend in a desperate race against time. Aided by seen and unseen allies on both sides of the veil between the mortal world and the one beyond, Heather struggles to assemble the bewildering puzzle. If she fails to unravel the mystery surrounding the vengeful spirit and its connection to her, the past sufferings of her forebears will become her future...and her fate.

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### Fantastic Dominants and Where to Find Them: A Player's Guide to the Ultimate RPG

### (non-fiction)

"Where are all the GOOD Dominants?"

This is the question J.S. Wayne endeavors to answer in his latest book, Fantastic Dominants and Where to Find Them! Written with warmth, humor, honesty and sympathy for the plight of the fledgling kinkster, Fantastic Dominants paints a vivid picture of the kink world and the Dominants and pseudo-dominants who live there.

Fantastic Dominants is designed as a practical field guide for the novice submissive, tackling tricky topics such as:

• the glossary and politics of the kink world

• online dating and safety

• negotiation and consent

• deciding when to play

• the all-important differences between unicorns and donkeys in party hats

Featuring "The Dominants' Litany," a "pick your own path" adventure through the world of Kinklandia and a hard-hitting FAQ filled with straight, honest answers to real questions posed by Dominants and submissives alike, Fantastic Dominants and Where to Find Them explains in plain English how to navigate the kink world and find the Dominant and relationship you've always dreamed of!

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