To Protect and Serve Ch. 10

A long, lithe body was tied face down on a heavy wooden St. Andrew's Cross, her face covered in a spandex max that left her eyes and mouth exposed. Shamira would always be able to recognize the Representative's soft-looking, luscious lips anywhere. And the Representative . . . Alessandra . . . was looking right at her. And she looked so content that it made Shamira's heart lighter. Not many people even knew the names of anyone on the Tribunal, and certainly no one would normally be allowed to see one in such a "compromised" state.

Besides the mask, Alessandra was naked. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the ends of the cross, which had been lowered from the ceiling. 'I don't remember seeing that before,' Shamira thought. 'I wonder if he brought it in specifically for her?' But the thing that really got her attention was the needles. They looked like acupuncture needles and they literally covered Alessandra's back, creating a silvery wave whenever she flexed her muscles.

Shane lightly ran his fingers over the edge of the needles. "Used properly, these needles can relieve pain," he said softly, then pushed slightly, making his captive whimper. "They can also cause just enough --"

Shamira felt an unpleasant twinge at that sound, but then her mind accepted that it was a pleasurable sound as opposed to the ones that she had made the last time she had been chained up. She willed herself to stay calm as Shane continued to press in key spots along the sea of needles, then lay a heavy hand on the Representative's exposed ass. Shane continued his stroll around the woman, giving Shamira a good look at her boss. His smooth, leanly muscled chest was bare, meaning the only thing that he was wearing was a form-fitting pair of leather pants, complete with an easy to open fly. She had forgotten just how damn handsome he could be.

"How was your first day back at work?" her lord asked casually, directing the question to Shamira but giving another hard spank to Alessandra.

Shamira's mouth started to move, but it took a second for the sound to come on. Kind of like a badly dubbed movie. "It went well, I suppose. We have some prisoners, but I don't think you're going to get much out of them. Bottom rung thugs."

Shane was standing behind Alessandra's prone body, unzipping his fly. Shamira could smell the residue of his expenditures as well as the Representative's, and she wondered how long they had been at this. However many times he might have taken her, Shane was hard again, and he pushed himself inside her as he toyed with the needles. He shot her a look that was very brief and very telling . . . play along.

Shamira knew then that he was not trying to make her uncomfortable, which she interpreted as meaning that this was about Alessandra. Then she got it. She was almost embarrassed for not thinking of it instantly, but maybe Alessandra was a bit of an exhibitionist. 'After all,' she thought, 'didn't you get off on being video-taped, or when Henry watched you getting gang-banged.' Alessandra got to partake of this pleasure so rarely . . . 'I can play along.' She moved her wheelchair so that she was facing the most powerful vampire she had ever met, then talked to Shane over her.

"And your colleagues?" Shane said, his mouth quirked in a slight smile as he fucked his sire, alternating between toying with the needles in her back and slapping her ass or upper thighs.

"They were happy to see me I guess."

"I have a feeling that they were slightly more than happy. And you? Are you okay with going back to work?"

Alessandra groaned as one of Shane's thumbs penetrated her ass, and the noise earned her a hard smack.

"Be quiet," he growled. "Can't you see that I'm conducting business?" Another hard slap, then he returned his attention to Shamira. "Please continue."

"It felt good. It sucked . . . sorry, it stunk having to rely on someone else so much to do stuff like pumping gas, but Bunny is a really good traveling companion."

"Since the excursion down to Macon, she has been very hard on herself," Shane said as he plunged his captive's sex.

'Excursion?' Shamira thought. 'Is that what we're calling it?' It was the trip where her relationship with Shane had soured to the point of almost ending. "She shouldn't have been. She did everything right, considering. It's hard to be ready for your first real firefight based on training and theory. I keep forgetting that she may know a lot more about being a vampire than me, but she's still a teenager in regards to overall experience."

"Then this assignment will be good for her," Shane replied, playing the pins on Alessandra's back like piano keys , and proving himself quite the Mozart. His vampire captive was an instrument, and he was making her croon a song of pleasurable moans. "When are you heading out again?"

"Tomorrow," she replied, her eyes drawn to the pure ecstasy being displaying on Alessandra's face. Shane was taking his time with her, but she was enjoying every moment of it. Shane might very well be the one person on the planet that she could let herself be who she wanted to be, and Shamira realized how lonely that must be. In some ways, the Representative was as much a prisoner of her life as Shamira was of her chair.

"There's a couple of his more recent new vamps that might prove more useful to us. Bunny's going to wake up early and do some hand-to-hand training with Renata, then we'll be off." She bit her lip, her eyes still on Alessandra. Seeing what was being done to her made Shamira want to spend some quality time with Clara.

"Excellent. I was thinking --"

"Sir, may I please orgasm?" Alessandra whispered desperately.

Shane looked annoyed. "What is this 'orgasm'?" he asked. "That's far too civilized of a word for a piece of meat like you," he growled, fucking her harder. She was so close, and he was going to push her self-control as much as he could. "It must be all that old European influence. Shamira, you remember what it is like to be in her place don't you?"

Shamira's skin was feeling very warm. "Yes sir."

"Tell her how she should ask the question."

Shamira looked into the Representative's eyes again. "I . . . You should say, 'Can I cum, Master?'"

The elder vampire's mouth formed a contented grin which only Shamira could see. "Can I cum, Master?" Her mouth started to form an "O" shape, indicated that she was probably going to climax whether she got permission or not.

Shane waited until the last possible second before granting permission, but he had a condition. "Shamira, I believe she likes having things driven into her body. Would you mind biting her neck? Or let me put it another way. Bite . . . now."

Shamira almost had a panic attack. Bite another vampire without THAT vampire's permission?

"Please?" Alessandra pleaded. "For me?" She moaned loudly again when Shane spanked her hard. "Hurry."

Shamira licked her lips. When Alessandra had been born, the First Crusade was well underway. How much power could that blood hold? The Representative was "helpless" to stop her, and Shamira almost smiled at the mental quotation marks. She had little doubt that the aged vampire could probably shed these constraints as easily as ripping through moist tissue paper, but she wanted this. So Shamira rolled a little closer, placed her lips against that amazing neck, letting her fangs siphon that sweet nectar.

Blood was apparently a lot like Scotch in that it got better with age and hit one like a ton of bricks if one was not expecting it. Shamira could almost feel all the little pins in her back, a stark contrast to the silver disk that had been embedded there. She could feel the blood pulse with each thrust of Shane's cock into that lovely body, and the blood hummed merrily as Alessandra came in a long, slow, almost elegant release, and Alessandra took Shamira along for the ride.

"You can let go now," Shane said, amusement coating his voice. Shamira had not realized that she was still attached to the Representative in a vampire's kiss.

"Sorry," Shamira murmured after withdrawing her fangs. "That was . . . sweet," she almost hissed.

"A gift from me to you," Alessandra whispered.

"Quiet," Shane said, spanking her again as he resumed thrusting. "Shamira, I must ask you to leave. It appears this one has forgotten her manners and --" He flicked the needles in her back again, "-- needs to be reminded."

Shamira glanced over her shoulder as the two older vampires continued a game that they had started four and a half centuries earlier. And despite his harsh, domineering tone, she could see true affection and devotion on Shane's face.

Shamira shadow jumped back up to her bathroom, thankful that Clara had not turned the light back on yet, but she did hear some commotion back in the bedroom itself. She wheeled out and found Clara ready for bed, dressed in . . . well, nothing. Unless a dream-catcher necklace counted as clothing.

"I wondered why the wheelchair was in a dark room but you weren't," Clara said, pulling the covers aside. Then she stopped and looked more closely at Shamira. "You have blood on your lips, and it smells . . . new." For a moment, Clara actually looked hurt. "You've been biting another vampire?"

"It's not what you think! I just . . . Shane wanted to see me and --" Shamira stopped when Clara's pout broke off into a smile. "Bitch!"

"Why yes. But seriously, who'd you munch?"

Shamira's mouth produced no noise, so she snapped it shut. 'Am I supposed to say anything?'

"What?" Clara looked intrigued. "You were defensive and now you're not saying anything. This has GOT to be juicy," she continued, sounding like the teenage girl she appeared to be. "Spill!"

"I . . . uhm, you can't tell anyone. I don't know if this is normal or not bu --"

"Spill!"

"I bit the Representative." Shamira paused guiltily. "She and Shane were . . . well, they asked me to."

Clara actually looked flabbergasted. "Wait, you went down to see Shane? He's been 'wrapped up' with the Representative all day. And yes, I know what their code is for getting nasty."

"They were playing and he told me to bite her. She said she wanted it."

"Lucky bitch."

"So that's weird, right?"

"I've never met anyone besides Shane who's bitten her, and he won't ever outright admit it. You're right not to just go blurting that out. See? You're learning."

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

"So what's it like?" Clara asked, leaning forward, her arms folded under her delicate cleavage.

Shamira traced her tongue around her lips, then leaned forward in her chair and kissed her girlfriend.

"Woah," Clara said after she got just a taste of what Shamira had enjoyed. "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me? Maybe your sister should have warned me about you?"

"Huh?"

"Oh yeah. Forgot to tell you. Samantha came by the house again today."

Shamira looked stunned. "Why? I called her and told her --"

Clara looked sheepish as she interrupted, "She didn't come to see you. She came to see me."

Shamira blinked several times. "My sister . . . came to see my girlfriend. Uhm, why?"

Clara grinned again. "Got the whole 'better treat her right' speech. And she threatened me if I didn't start taking better care of you." The vampire grimaced. "She's kind of right about that one. But mostly I think she's been saving up the whole 'better treat her' right speech for a while, and she wasn't sure how to deliver it to a girl."

"I gave her ex that speech. Now Shane won't let me kill him."

"He's a bastard that way," Clara murmured, tracing Shamira's lips with her tongue.

Without even realizing it, Shamira pulled her girlfriend on top of her by moving to the bed and lying back. Clara wasn't going to stay away from her lover's lips for long.

"Blood's gone," Shamira muttered.

"I know." Clara got an evil twinkle in her eye. Her hands sought out Shamira's wrists, pushing them over the woman's head. The newer vampire's brain went a bit fuzzy as those all-too-familiar cuffs at the corners of the bed secured her wrists. She watched the wounded vampire shiver for a moment. 'Is it too soon?' she thought. 'To put her in chains again?' But those muscular shoulders settled down and relaxed. "Slaves should have routines," she said, disguising her relief in a husky voice. "You've neglected yours."

"Yes, Mistress Clara," Shamira replied. 'How is this going to work?' Clara ripped Shamira's shirt off and shredded the unflattering sports bra she had on underneath. Fingers dug into breast flesh hard enough to leave impressions. 'Okay, THAT'S how it is going to work.' She loved the feeling of Clara's hands on her.

Clara mounted Shamira's face, pressing her wet sex against the captive girl's nervous mouth. She grabbed a handful of Shamira's hair, albeit not quite as rough as she had been known to do before. Clara did not want her friend to know how nervous she was, but she was bound and determined to give the woman as much of her life back as she could. THIS was part of that life.

Shamira's legs did not work, but her tongue surely did, and it remembered exactly where it was supposed to go. It violated Clara's sex while her lips sucked inward on delicate, feminine flesh. She had missed the ability to serve and service this woman, and she had missed the grip on her hair as she was used for another's pleasure. And when she felt one nipple pinched and twisted . . . Oh, she had missed that too. Clara had given her a taste of it when they had entertained Arthur and Kira, but now she was getting a banquet.

"Get the asshole too, you little slut," Clara growled happily. She pulled on one of Shamira's nubs, distending it to the point of obscenity. If she had planned this ahead of time, she'd have her nipple clamps closer at hand. She knew how much Shamira liked them.

Shamira did as she was told. It was an odd sensation to be performing this act and not feel anything below her own waistline, but she did feel the now familiar pulsing in her dead heart and warmness and tightness of her skin. These things comforted her as she performed her duties and reminded her that there were still pleasures of the flesh to be had for her. Nails raked over her breasts and shoulders, fingers gripped her hair, and wet pussy was pressed tightly against her face. It was so wonderful to experience that it bordered on the surreal.

Despite the playful nature of their game, there was also a subtle sense of urgency for the two women. Clara needed what was happening almost as much as her girlfriend. Shamira had been right when she had said that being on top and being able to do whatever she wanted to a submissive was a part of Clara's personality. She was going to demand pleasure from this woman, for the rest of the night if necessary. She rubbed her sex over Shamira's face, bumping and grinding and otherwise smothering. Shamira's tongue did not seem to be suffering from ring rust as it found familiar places in Clara's body to tantalize, tease, and stimulate. Their bodies certainly remembered each other.

Clara was quicker to cum than she might normally be, but she had basically refrained from so much as masturbating during the last several weeks. "Make . . . me . . . cum!" she growled. Shamira proved herself happy to obey and oblige. Clara's body shook when her pent-up desires were satisfied and unleashed. She settled on Shamira's face, relishing the muscle exertion and the subsequent slow relaxation.

"I think we need some more practice, don't you, my pet?"

"Yes, Mistress Clara."

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A week later . . .

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Bunny was trying really hard not to laugh as they pulled into a Rent-A-Storage facility near Dublin, Georgia. For the entire trip, she had been picking up the brown paper sack next to Shamira's seat, showing it to her, and grinning like a madman. A peanut-butter sandwich, some applesauce, a now-empty blood pack, and a banana.

Clara had for some inexplicable reason decided to start packing Shamira a lunch on her prisoner-transfer trips. Shamira had no idea where this domestic outburst had come from, but it was kind of sweet albeit a trifle embarrassing. It was as if Clara was claiming her, and more than just as a regular sex toy. Shamira did not make too much of a deal about it. Taking care of Shamira seemed to make Clara feel better.

"Did she put a toy inside?" Bunny asked, poking her nose into the bag again. "Like a Happy Meal?"

Shamira grinned as she took the bag away and put it back on the floor. "You're just jealous."

"Of course I am!" Bunny replied with a grin of her own. "It's just so domestic! Like a BDSM version of 'Leave it to Beaver.' I'm surprised she really DIDN'T put a pair of handcuffs in here as a toy surprise."

"We have plenty." Shamira saw a group of familiar people standing next to a storage unit at the end of the row, so she pulled the van along side. They looked serious.

"What's up?" she asked Henry after rolling the window down.

"Something weird is going on down near Lacroix's estate. We've lost track of a patrol from Florida that was guarding his private dock, and Banshee and one of Pritchard's men got dropped."

Shamira's eyes went wide and her blood turned cold. "What --"

"They're okay. They were in an abandoned building where they could see Lacroix's secondary gate when something brought the whole structure down on them. It takes a hell of a lot more than dropping a ton of bricks to kill someone like Banshee, though she's busted up something good. Pritchard's hunt leader is bringing them both up, and we want you to take them back with you this trip. Banshee will probably be good to go in a couple of days."

Shamira felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. Banshee's one-woman crusade to avenge what had been done to Shamira had become somewhat legendary. "Do we know what did it?"

"No, but it wasn't magic. The wards around the estate are still intact. But something did pass through them shortly before the attack, and whatever it was had to be big."

"What about the patrol in the harbor?"

"No idea. But Lacroix and Jonas seem to have gotten another shipment of supplies in from somewhere during the lapse in coverage. This may drag on a bit longer than we thought."

"Or it might escalate. Did they find anything at either scene?"

Henry looked nervous. "Nothing at the harbor at all, but some of the stones on the collapsed building looked --"

"Looked like what?"

"Burned."

Shamira settled back into her seat and closed her eyes. She did not want to say what they were probably all thinking, but she did anyway. "At the end of the map . . . there be dragons."

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To be continued . . .