To Protect and Serve Ch. 12

Shamira turned human again and went to Clara, who Katar and his people had dragged over next to Samantha. How did one check to see if an undead were still "alive"? She slapped Clara's face a little, then checked on Samantha. Suddenly Shane and Tabitha and a hoard of bodyguards arrived, the rest of Jonas' fiery minions having vanished or been vanquished. Shamira met her lord's gaze. "Is she okay? Please let her --"

Lillian moved forward and stared at Clara. The necromancer looked beyond the vampire's skin and into something much deeper and less tangible. "She's still with us," she said in a relieved voice. "She's just passed out from heat and exertion. She must have been casting some serious mojo in there."

* She kept up a wall of water and cold air for as long as she could, * Katar projected. * Lady Shamira, I think we should get Jörmungandr to the pool -- *

"Yes, please," Shamira said, ashamed she had not thought of it herself. "He must be scared out of his mind."

The Sea Serpent crawled out of the pond as if to follow Katar to the barn, but first he turned and put his nose close to Shamira's face. She ran a hand over his snout and apologized to the universe and the fates that she had almost let this magnificent creature die. It nuzzled her softly, then nuzzled its brother Aodh before making for the safety of its pool. Aodh stayed near to Shamira, allowing the faerie princess Coramen and Lillian to look over its burned wing. They were both convinced it would heal.

Tabitha managed to wake up Samantha, who just looked around dazedly for a moment before her eyes came to rest on Shamira, then they opened wide.

'She's afraid of me,' Shamira thought. 'Now she truly understands what I am."

But Samantha just grinned. "Okay, I always thought that you being a cop was the closest thing I'd get to excitement, but this . . . this is your life?"

Shamira just hugged her sister. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Shamira, I realize we're in the South and everything, but being hugged by my naked sister is just creepy to me." When she was released, "Why are you sorry? This wasn't your fault --"

"I should never have brought you into this world. Being near me almost got you killed and almost got Clara killed and --"

"I almost get killed every day," Clara said, her eyes opening as she sat up. She looked a little pale, even for a vamp, but her eyes were alert. "If you go ape-shit with guilt again, I will slap you silly. And not in the way you like."

Samantha glanced confusedly over at Clara, who cracked a wry grin before falling back to the ground while someone got her a blood pack to drink.

"I'll explain later," Shamira muttered. "Much later. Okay, maybe never."

Samantha did the eyebrow-cocking thing. "Don't tell me you're into the whole spanking thing too?"

Shamira found something else to look at.

"You are?!" Samantha leaned back. "Anything ELSE I need to know about you?"

"I'm going to kill my girlfriend," she said, glowering at Clara. Clara's eyes were closed, but she was smiling and sucking blood out of a plastic bag. Shamira stood up, clutching her arm.

"Shamira, what's wrong with your arm?" Shane asked, stepping closer.

"Nothing I don't deserve," she muttered, forgetting for a moment that Shane would still be able to hear her.

He lifted her chin to face him. "Okay, I realize that my relationship with you is not the same as Clara's, but this is for your own good." Before her face could even form a puzzled expression, he kissed her full on the lips, letting one hand grab firmly at her ass while doing so. She almost forgot the pain in her arm and the doubt weighing on her mind, her body grinding (with no permission from her brain) against Shane's body. He was a pretty damn good kisser, though this kind of intimacy was unusual for him.

"Okay, why are you making out in front of your boss in front of your girlfriend?" Samantha asked.

"Oh, she's done a lot more than make out with him. Okay, because it probably would be uncomfortable to talk about it and to head off further surprises and because I don't have anything else to do until I can open my eyes again without the world spinning, "Shamira is more than an exhibitionist. She's a sexual submissive in a communal setting where any dominant can perform any naughty thing their mind can come up with to her, and we're an imaginative lot. And I promise you, Shamira enjoys it far more than even our other submissives. She has fantasies that none of the rest of us have tried before, and Shane is four-and-a-half centuries old. Did I miss anything?"

Shane shrugged. "That covers about everything, except," he said, looking at Samantha, "that we all love her very much, and not just in a carnal way. This is our way of life, and Shamira fits in it. We enjoy more than just her participation in the game. We make sure to the best of our abilities that all her needs are met. Right now, she just needs to be reminded that some things happen that she cannot control, and that sometimes when she's trying to save the world, it's okay to let the rest of us chip in."

Samantha snorted. "Good luck with that."

Shane smiled at her. "Is it the nature of your family to take these little surprises with such calm?"

"Buddy, I ran out of disbelief when my sister turned out not to be dead despite getting shot a dozen times."

"Buddy?" Shane attempted to feign being offended.

"Yeah, 'buddy.' Let her freak out if she wants to. She'll put herself back together during crunch time. Always has, always will."

The lord of Atlanta smiled broadly. "That is some of the best advice concerning Shamira that I have ever heard."

"Hey, I'm still here," Shamira grumbled. She hated it when people talked about her as if she was not even present.

"Hey," the sister said, looked at Shamira, "I thought you were dating her? Isn't that cheating?"

"Monogamy isn't exactly the thing around here," Shamira replied shyly, digging the toes on one foot into the ground. "You must be totally freaked out --"

"Damn right, but you're still my sister and I still love you. Just . . . just lay off the surprises for a bit. I mean, you aren't secretly like . . . like a psychic too, are you? A mermaid? A Republican?"

"Hey, no need to get --"

"Okay girls, I think we should all retire to the barn for a bit," Shane interjected. "Let the guards finish clean up."

"Just let me check on --" Shamira started.

"No," Shane said. He held up his hand. "Katar can keep an eye on the Sea Serpent, and Aodh will be put to bed so his wing can heal. You," he said firmly, "need rest as well."

"But --"

"Tabitha, please take these young ladies to your temporary lab and make sure they let themselves get checked out. Even if you have to tie them to the table."

Samantha looked annoyed. Clara looked amused. Shamira, in spite of herself, looked a little excited.

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A week later . . .

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"Are you sure you're going to be okay? You have the number of where we'll be and --"

Arthur and Kira were both grinning from ear to ear as Shamira acted like a nervous parent. The two Renfields had once again agreed to babysit the young dragons, along with Katar and his flock, while Lord Stapleton's house had a special dinner to celebrate their recent success in finally quelling the rebellion from Southern Georgia. The Tribunal, as told by the three present members, had expressed the whole body's approval to Shane and his people.

The dinner would be held nearby in case Shamira needed to get back quickly, but Archimedes thought things would be able to be kept in control. The spell-casters had come up with talismans that would temporarily allow the dragons' caretakers to communicate telepathically with the young reptiles, and there was a huge number of guards to make sure they stayed safe.

"Yes, you put it on the refrigerator next to the pizza money," Kira said with a straight face.

Their vampire mistress looked confused, the scrunched up her face in faux annoyance, then she smiled. "I'm being overbearing, am I?" Despite not wanting to be a mother, she still felt responsible for the two young dragons. She had spent most of the night playing with them, hunting with them, and generally getting them tired out so that they would sleep well. She had managed just enough free time to get a quickie in with both of her human donors and letting them have a taste of the blood that has so greatly improved their lives and fought back the disease they carried.

"It's all right," Arthur replied. "Honestly, I don't think you know what to do with yourself now that no one is trying to kill you."

"That we know of," Shamira muttered, adjusting the bra-line on her evening dress again. Somehow, Clara had managed to find one for her that could only barely be considered street legal due to the cleavage shown. It was one of those dresses that showed off a woman's shoulders to perfection, which is just what her girlfriend had been going for. There was no bra, and her underwear certainly fell under the decorative-rather-than-functional category.

At least she had been spared high heels by managing to convince Clara that they were simply a chauvinistic tool of torture designed by men for women. Of course the same could be said for lingerie, in her opinion, but most lingerie did not threaten to make her trip, thereby making a fool of herself in public. There were some forms of punishment that really did not turn her on that much, hence, the stylish black flats.

"Hmm, lookin' good, sexy lady," Renata purred, dressed in her own come-hither evening wear.

"You too. I've never seen a girl who could make a brown dress look that good," Shamira said. Of course, the fact that it was hugging Renata's rocking body like a second skin made the color pretty much obsolete. "Where's Clara?"

Sebastian walked over, looking dynamite in a tuxedo. "We decided the two of you needed to go in separate limos, otherwise neither of you would show up without smearing your lipstick."

Shamira rolled her eyes. "We CAN control ourselves," she said.

"Yeah, but you don't. Don't get me wrong, I think it's charming. And kind of hot to watch."

"You got that right," Renata said. "It's gonna suck when you two are halfway across the state," she pouted, giving Shamira a hug. "You guys goin' with her?" she asked of Kira and Arthur.

"Hell yeah," Arthur responded. "A friend of mine is going to run the store up here and Shane's promised to help me set up another one in Savannah. And Kira's job can be done from anywhere." He looked at Shamira. "We don't want to give up the best thing that's ever happened to us."

Shamira felt an internal flush of pride. "I would have missed you guys too. By the way, I think I'm going to pick up more donors when I get there. This whole being-a-dragon thing tends to require more energy than just being a vampire."

"We figured. When we put ourselves on the list to be donors, we always knew that it wasn't supposed to be an exclusive relationship," Kira said.

"Yeah, but I want to put you two in charge of finding them. I've got a lot on my plate, and I trust your judgment."

Kira flushed with pride of her own. "You got it. We won't disappoint you."

"I doubt you could if you tried." Shamira turned back to Renata. "I guess we'd better get going. Thanks a lot."

"Okay. Have a great time at the party."

The members of the House of Stapleton made their way out to one of the limos. Shamira saw Clara standing up in another vehicle, half of her appearing out of the moon roof. They smiled at each other until Shamira was shooed into the waiting transport. Shane had rented a lodge for a couple of nights, and the only non-House members that would be in attendance were the members of the Tribunal. Even their guards would remain outside.

They pulled up next to a number of other limos and fancy cars. Shane was sparing no expense on the evening's festivities. Shamira was flanked as she walked inside, where a large well-lit room was waiting for her. It was like she had walked into a medieval hall, complete with heavy wooden tables and benches, and a large free-standing fire-pit in the center of the room. A raised area at the other end of the room sat five chairs. Shane was in one with Banshee at his side. Next to them were the Representative, the Alpha, and the Shepherd. Archimedes had decided to stay and look after the dragons.

"Welcome one and all," Shane said when the doors closed behind the last entrant. "It seems so rare, after recent events, that we are able to come together and be a family. So since our family will be expanding and rearranging, I thought we might meet here tonight to not only celebrate recent victories but also to enjoy each others' company as we have not been able to do for some time."

Shamira's eyes met Clara's at that point, and there was a wicked twinkle to be seen there. 'What's she thinking now?' she thought.

Shane indicated that he wanted Banshee to rise. "As you are all aware, Banshee will be taking over control of the Savannah territory with the assistance of some members of this house. This move has been blessed by the Tribunal and while it brings me great pride, it also saddens me. I will miss the constant presence, edge, and wisdom of my eldest child. Note that I intend to keep in regular contact with her, and I would encourage the rest of my house to do the same." He smiled proudly at the assassin, who looked stern but competent. "Now before I say more, the Representative will speak on Tribunal matters."

The Representative stood, ever the model of elegance. Of all those in the room, only Shane and Shamira had seen the side of her that was less poised . . . more depraved and common. "Thank you Lord Stapleton. It is the decision of the Tribunal, now that the threat of Lacroix and Jonas has been eliminated, that we shall move ahead with the process of outing ourselves to the world at large."

"Your own housemate, Pierre, has told us of, and investigated, a small group inside the FBI and is associated with the Behavioral Sciences unit that is composed of agents that might be more willing to believe the fantastical world that they will be exposed to. A plan is already being put together to initiate first contact, and it is all because of the work that you have done and the example that you have set."

"We thank Lord Stapleton for assembling such a talented group to pull this off, and we thank all of you for all that you have done." She looked at Shamira. "And we would most like to thank Lady Shamira, for her courage, her wisdom, and her selflessness. She had helped bring peace to the region and wonder back to our lives, even those of us who thought we were beyond being surprised." She gave a slight smile.

Shamira really wondered what was going on. Was there something on the agenda she did not know about?

Shane was about to make that perfectly clear. "And that brings us back to Shamira. Less than four months ago, she was a human police officer who had no idea that we creatures of magic and darkness even existed. The first time I met her, she put her life on the line for me, and I knew that the world would miss such a magnificent individual should her first death be her only death."

"Since then, she has become the most powerful fledgling vampire in our history, saved many number of lives, survived unspeakable cruelty with tremendous courage, turned into a dragon," he continued, letting a full warm smile break out, "and has been quite possibly the biggest pain in the ass of any employee that I have ever had."

The crowd snickered and Shamira covered her face. She hadn't been THAT bad.

"In a world of tradition, she arrived like a hurricane. In a culture of secrecy, she tread loudly." His words seemed critical, but his voice was still fond. "And in the middle of it all, she taught us all a little something about bravery and honor. She also taught us, a household based on pleasures of the flesh, a few things on satisfying those carnal urges."

Shamira's eyes were growing wider. The look on Shane's face was positively hungry now. She knew what he was going to do, namely mark fantasy number one off the list.

"It is my belief that her recent rise to power may have gone to her head. Tonight, we shall remind her of who she really is and where she belongs. Bring the serving tray." Some of the other subs wheeled out a rolling platform, complete with a four-foot-by-four-foot hardwood deck and a set of five-foot metal bars sticking up from mid-way along the sides. The two vertical bars were connected at the top by another bar, effecting forming an upside-down "U".

Shane came down of the dais with Banshee and Renata at his sides. "Tonight, you will do what you should have been doing all along . . . serving." He nodded to his compatriots, who stepped forward and grabbed Shamira, hauling her "struggling" body to the platform and then shoving her down to her knees. There were holes in the platform at set intervals, and rope was run through these wholes and around Shamira's legs, tying her securely around the knees and again at the ankles. Her wrists were raised above her head and tied to the metal bars on either side of her, and a chain was run from her caller to the bar over her head.

"You will serve anyone and everyone who wants you," Shane continued smoothly, "and in whatever way they desire. Tonight, even your fellow submissives are above you."

Shamira strained against the chains, careful not to break them but enough to show off the muscles in her arms and shoulders. She knew Shane liked watching her like this, the struggling captive. He was giving her to everyone in the household, numbering more than twenty. What about guests? Would the Alpha, the Shepherd, and the Representative be allowed to have a turn at her? That deep, dark, decadent part of her hoped so.

"Place her at the foot of the dais," Shane instructed, "facing away from us." The platform was moved, and Shamira found herself looking out upon the room, filled with hungry gazes and dishonorable intentions. This was not punishment for her, nor true humiliation. It was her fantasy, to be taken in a restaurant in such finery by anyone with an interest to do so, and Shane was making it a reality for her. This was not A reward, but rather THE reward.

"I have not seen a table-setting quite so fetching before," the Shepherd said, his voice betraying a bit of his interest.

"She smells like she is in heat," the Alpha added.

"She always does," Shane agreed.

The feast began, and Shamira was left waiting. She saw people looking at her, all of them awaiting some sign from the lord for the games to begin. Then, Shane himself finished his meal.

"I find myself now in need of relief," he said, striding down the stairs and approaching Shamira from the front. He unzipped himself. He was semi-rigid, having been in anticipation of this all evening. "Now let this little slut earn her keep." He grabbed Shamira's head and shoved it towards his cock, enjoying the sensation of her warm mouth as it entrapped his member. She went after it hungrily, almost desperately. She had him at full staff already, so he pulled out and slapped her in the face with his cock. "Don't get greedy, slut."

He stepped back and slapped her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress several times, then shoved his dick back into her mouth. In the brief moment of his absence, Shamira could see that her friends and housemates were staring at her, some with glee while others looked on with jealousy. The other submissives were wishing it was them in Shamira's place, and she hoped they took it out on her.

She was glad that she and Shane had arrived at a truce, because he really was a spectacular male specimen, and he had a knack for just taking charge of her mouth and using it like a sex toy. He had glimpsed into her mind and saw her desires, and he had spared no expense in making them come true. His heat filled her throat and his balls were slapping against her chin as he shoved his way past what had once been a gag reflex, hammering her throat with abandon.