Omnipotent Blood

By C.M. Michaels

Having survived the attack inside the Natick Mall, Brooke dreads the thought of spending decades in exile while she waits for the media firestorm from the superhuman brawl to run its course. But soon after fleeing Boston, she discovers the battle caught the eye of forces far more lethal than humans. Captured by the dark Goddess Lilith, Brooke ha

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hydra Publications
• Release date: Mar 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781942212676

Book preview

Escape

Iwrestled the zipper closed on the last of my overstuffed suitcases and cast a longing glance into my still packed walk-in closet, my gaze settling on the black fleece jumpsuit I’d worn to my birthday party. It wasn’t the abandoned clothing I’d miss. Each outfit my eyes settled upon brought back heartwarming memories of the four months I’d spent living with my disjointed adopted family.

Four months. That’s all the time that had passed since I’d arrived at the campus of Boston University as an idealistic small-town girl determined to break free from my father’s well-intentioned but suffocating control. In that short span of time I’d chopped off most of my hair, given up solid food, taken on a new identity, sworn my fealty to a vampire coven, been infected with a body-transforming virus and survived a supernatural, broadcasted-around-the-world smackdown in the Natick Mall that left hundreds dead or wounded.

On the more intimate front, I’d lost my virginity to my now firmly off-limits first love, Daniel, and discovered through some rather erotic interludes with one of my coven sisters that I was apparently bisexual. Oh, and let’s not forget the latest developments. As of this afternoon, I now had retractable fangs I had yet to learn to control and thinly slit, cat-like eyes, courtesy of some medieval ancestor from the Stone Age. They weren’t kidding when they said how much you change during your first semester at college. Fuck.

Thoughts of the rather steamy embrace I’d shared with Sandy at the mall earlier had me yearningly biting my lip. Babe. Hopefully the somewhat possessive term of endearment she’d muttered meant she was finally willing to put an end to her moratorium on intimate physical contact. It had been almost a month since our too-hot-for-primetime post-jog encounter on the beach. I was desperate for our smoldering but frustratingly contained relationship to shift out of neutral.

We’re out of here in ten minutes! Raven called from the hallway, loud enough for Ruby to hear through the reinforced steel doors of the computer room she was busy dismantling.

Raven ducked her head into my room moments later, letting out an exacerbated groan. Math was never my strong suit, Brooke, but that looks like a hell of a lot more than two suitcases.

When I opened my mouth to protest, she purposefully arched her brow, her flowing, golden locks disappearing behind her tightly crossed arms. Two suitcases, your laptop bag, a purse and your painting. Everything else stays. Are we clear?

There was more than enough room for what I’d packed in the M-class SUV she’d gotten me, but I knew negotiating with my goddess of a best friend when she was in what I fondly thought of as her black ops mode was pointless. Her demeanor shifted from that of the snarky but compassionate girl I’d befriended when I first arrived on campus, to that of a question-me-at-your-own-peril field general. Regardless of whatever mysterious abilities I had, when it came to tactical operations, she was still clearly Sienna’s second in command.

Sir, yes sir! I threw in an exaggerated, military-style salute for good measure, which earned me an impressively choreographed double bird.

Bite me, Piedmont. It’s not like anyone’s going to notice what you’re wearing, anyway.

Ouch. Can’t argue with ya, there.

Her witty if not original comeback hit home, making me feel even more insecure about my Amish-like makeover. One look at my loose-fitting jeans, baggy gray turtleneck, makeup-free face, thick-rimmed glasses and shoulder length, mousy brown wig and she’d come up with the hick town reference from Coyote Ugly. And like an idiot, I’d let her see how much the nickname bothered me. When was I going to learn?

Wearing nonprescription glasses along with costume contacts distorted my enhanced vision. The brown lenses with black, oversized pupils didn’t completely conceal my pale green irises either, but at a quick glance my eyes passed for hazel. As much as I hated my new persona, I had to admit it was effective. I’d never appeared quite so yawn inspiring.

Raven took hold of my slightly lowered chin and lifted it until my gaze met her comforting brown eyes. It could be worse. A quick change and some makeup, and you’re back to your stunning former self. Ruby just had most of her hair cut off. She was in tears by the time Sandy finished hacking at it with her nails.

Damn. Other than her ballerina shaped body, Ruby’s most striking trait was the silky, jet black hair that cascaded all the way down to the small of her back. Now she’d never have long hair again.

Seeing that she’d made her point, Raven kissed my forehead and hurried back down the hall to help carry the computer equipment Ruby had finished boxing up. Thankfully I hadn’t totally disregarded her two-suitcase guideline while I was packing. I set the three suitcases containing my least essential items in the back of my closet, took hold of the remaining two and headed toward the front door.

When I reached the living room, I came to an abrupt halt, my forgotten bags dropping onto the plush white area rug. Sandy and Sienna were sitting on the edge of one of the chocolate-brown leather couches, intently watching the coverage of the mall aftermath on our sixty-inch flat screen.

A middle-aged, brunette WCVB reporter was positioned in front of the still-burning mall, with fire crews frantically working behind her to try to get the inferno under control. "Reports are sketchy, but it appears investigators have found evidence of some sort of pulley system that was attached to the second floor balcony near the food court, along with discarded bulletproof vests in one of the trash bins outside of Sears. And on what is certainly one of the most tragic and horrifying nights in our city’s long history, perhaps the most bizarre events occurred after the National Guard troops arrived.

In what seems to be a clear violation of the constitution, Colonel John Pierce of the 181st Infantry Regiment took command of the entire crime scene, ordering his troops to bar all emergency personal from entering the Natick Mall. Firefighters were not allowed inside even after the fires you see behind me began to burn. Officials now fear the entire mall will be lost.

The camera cut back to the salt-and-pepper haired WCVB six o’clock news anchor in the studio. He’d shed his ever-present sport coat and loosened his tie, apparently settling in for what was sure to be a very long night. Janet, do we know anything more about the shocking claims Colonel Peirce made in his statement before he collapsed?

After the second delay it took for her to hear the question, Janet pressed her lips together into a frown and shook her head. Snow was whipping past the camera in thick sheets, and even bundled up in her cozy looking scarf and wool peacoat, she was clearly freezing. Nothing confirmed, Adam. Authorities are investigating the two women to see if they can find any corroborating evidence to support Colonel Peirce’s claim that they were part of some kind of highly trained covert counter-terrorist unit. I can say I’ve seen several eye witness videos that appear to show the women confronting the primary suspects, possibly even killing one of them, while going out of their way not to injure the people around them.

Have you seen anything on the videos to confirm the numerous reports of inexplicable, almost superhuman movement during the fighting? Adam asked.

The camera never left Janet, who was now eagerly nodding. "I’ve heard them described as everything from aliens to mutants like those portrayed in the X-Men films, Adam. Much of the footage of the actual fighting is too blurry to make out, but some of the movements that can be seen defy all logical explanation. In one clip, the blond female suspect tosses a large male officer over forty feet using only her left hand, and he hits the marble wall with such force that debris reins down on his body. Another clip shows the short-haired brunette leaping up to the second floor food court—some twenty-five feet in the air—like you or I might step over a puddle. This is the same woman who appears to have killed the blond suspect only moments before.

Again, if you have seen any of these people, officials ask that you call 911 immediately. They are all considered armed and extremely dangerous. Police are cautioning everyone not to confront them.

We’d thought about having the tranced military leader order the public to turn over their footage without posting or sharing it—under the threat of jail time—but decided it just wasn’t practical. It would take days for a program like that to gain any traction even with full government support, which we obviously didn’t have. Not to mention the fact that we couldn’t keep someone continuously tranced for that long. All we could do is try to leverage the rampant mistrust for the government with our covert-agent cover story. The beauty of that plan was that the more adamantly the government denied what Colonel Peirce claimed, the more people would believe it.

Images of Ruby, Travis, Teresa and I were plastered up on the screen. Teresa had a hold of a limp-bodied security guard with his feet dangling a good foot off the ground. Travis had just airmailed Ruby toward a section of tables and was caught watching her sail like a missile into the shocked people still sitting there. Ruby’s close-up showed her placing herself between Travis and a terrified teenage girl, who was bleeding profusely from a nasty-looking gash across her stomach. As for my own less-than-flattering mug shot, it had been taken shortly after I’d emerged from the sporting goods store, barefoot and in tights, having just discarded my obliterated skirt.

So no mention of any of you guys? I asked Sienna, hopeful that they hadn’t been caught exiting the back entrance of Sears. The fire would wipe out the cameras and any security footage physically stored at the mall, and Ruby had taken care of the digital backups when she got home, but that didn’t account for the hoards of random people milling around with smart phones. Life on the run would be hard enough without all of us being card-carrying members of the FBI’s most wanted list.

Sienna spared me a quick glance before returning her full attention to the screen. Not so far. Although I’m still not sure leaving you both there to deal with everything was the right thing to do.

That made two of us. Hell, for all I knew, I’d left critical evidence behind that would expose our entire race. We’d loaded Travis and Teresa’s bodies in the back of Raven’s Navigator before they’d left, but there was so much blood to clean up, not to mention the chunks of Travis’s flesh that were scattered through about half of Sears. Even with Ruby buying me extra time through her flawless execution of the crowd-management portion of our plan—controlling people from a distance was still way beyond my abilities, let alone making them give impromptu press conferences—I still only had a few minutes to torch all traces of vampire DNA and plant the pulley remnants we wanted the authorities to find. All it would take was for me to have missed a few mutated cells to change our world forever.

Sandy finally took note of my dorky disguise, choking back a laugh as she sauntered seductively across the room. Her hands took a firm hold of my butt, grinding herself against me as she pressed her mouth up to my ear. We are so playing naughty school girl tonight.

I wet my trembling lips and drew in a slow, deep breath, unable to speak. Her lustful cadence alone made my heart race, and the promise her words conveyed burned through me like lava. Apparently our relationship wasn’t stuck in neutral anymore. Before I had a chance to react to her tantalizing bombshell, Sandy’s pouty, orchid-colored lips covered mine, effortlessly teasing them apart. The feel of her soft, skilled tongue exploring my mouth again was pure heaven. I took hold of the nape of her pixie-cut blond hair, tilting her head back to expose her throat. The sweet peach scent from her body wash flooded my nostrils, along with the ever-present lilac fragrance of our kind. For the trip, she’d changed into a fitted pink hoodie, jeggings and tan riding boots. Every curve of her lean, fit body was on display. I was about to lay claim to her tantalizing neck when the unmistakable taste of blood trickled into my mouth.

Fuck! Without any warning Sandy’s palms shot into my chest, sending me flying off my feet. When I landed, I cartwheeled ass-over-head before skidding across the wooden floor and crashing through the left two legs of our dining-room table. Having the now-compromised solid-oak antique collapse on top of me provided the perfect wile-e-coyote finish to my humiliation.

Ow.

Thankfully Sandy had pushed me with her hands spread wide rather than throwing a punch. Other than having the wind knocked out of me, I seemed to be okay. I did a quick pat down of my chest just to be sure while I waited for someone to free me from my wooden tomb.

Sandy had me wrapped in her arms as soon as the behemoth table was tossed aside, nuzzling her face against my throat. Oh God! I’m so sorry, Brooke! Please, tell me you’re all right! Please!

Nothing was bruised or broken. I felt like I’d been kicked by a tank-sized cyborg draft horse on steroids, but I’d live. I pulled back from her suffocating hug just far enough to run my thumb across her now wet cheek. I’m fine, Sandy. Ssh. It’s okay.

Sienna was doing that slight head shake, gnawing-her-lip thing she reserved for when she was truly pissed off. Like when I’d thrown her cherished collection of cashmere sweaters in the wash, for example. On the upside, I hadn’t been asked to do laundry since, so it was totally worth having her question if I really could be that fucking stupid. Her reddish blonde, shoulder-length hair was pulled up in a tight braid today, making her look even more intimidating as she gave Sandy the stink eye. I don’t even know where to start, Sandy. What the hell was that? You could have killed her.

Sandy released me and faced Sienna, her shoulders slumping as she bowed her head in deference. I know. I really fucked up. I’m sorry.

Sienna placed a gentle hand on Sandy’s cheek, capturing her chin in her palm. In spite of her anger, Sienna’s tranquil green eyes radiated the unyielding love she felt for all of us. That didn’t look at all like flirting. Why did you attack her?

I had a pretty good idea, given the fangs I still felt pressing against my lower lip. What a time for them to make their unwelcome reappearance. As if seeing them for the first time wouldn’t have freaked Sandy out enough without me being that close to her exposed throat. I didn’t mean to scare you, Sandy. I can’t control when these fucking things come out. I swear I wasn’t going to bite you or anything.

All Sandy could manage was a slight upturn of her lips into a lackluster semi-smile. So much for taking the next step in our relationship. She’d probably never even want to kiss me again. I just…freaked. It was stupid. I know you’d never hurt me. Hey, your prehistoric draculette comment at the mall makes more sense now. Well, at least the draculette part.

Sienna furrowed her brows as she tried to piece together our rather cryptic conversation. Without the visual aide Sandy had been given, it must have sounded like we were both on crack. Finally her gaze shifted my way, her eyes widening when she noticed my elongated, wolf-like canines. I half expected to get smacked in the chest again, but rather than recoiling from me like any sane person would do, Sienna leaned in for a closer inspection, raising my upper lip with her left hand. This has happened before?

Just earlier today before I healed Ruby, I responded after she’d released her grip.

Sienna retrieved my glasses from where they’d landed near the coffee table and handed them to me. Surprisingly they were still in one piece. Do you think the two are related? How did you know you could save Ruby?

I hesitated to mention my hallucinations or visions or whatever the hell they were. It’s not like I had any idea what they meant, anyway. And I hadn’t even had a chance to begin to process all the weird shit that had happened to me tonight. But the stakes were too high for me to keep this from them. This is going to sound really weird, but when I was holding Ruby, my mind kind of went somewhere else. One second I was holding her, and the next I was sitting next to a fire in a cave with an injured teenage vampire in my arms, surrounded by the same three vampires who killed me in the nightmare I told you about before.

During your transformation? Sienna asked.

I just nodded. It was so real. I could smell the smoke from the fire. And when her fangs extended and she bit into her wrist, I could feel the pain. I watched through her catlike eyes—which looked just like mine do now—as she held out her arm and covered his chest wound with her blood. Once that had healed, she bit into her wrist again and made the boy drink from it. When I snapped out of the dream, I was holding Ruby again, but my gums still felt like they’d been sliced wide open, and I was still without a good chunk of my color vision. I realized I’d changed—at least partially—into the cat-eyed vampire in my dream. I had to try what I’d seen, to see if I could save Ruby.

Sienna smiled as she made a half-hearted attempt to straighten my disheveled wig. Without your courage and devotion, I would have lost a daughter tonight. You committed a desperate act that could have easily cost you your own life, and you did it with nothing to go on but blind faith in a vision you neither fully believed nor understood. I have a lot more questions, but from what you are describing—and what ended up happening—I agree it sounds like you experienced some sort of captured memory from an ancestor. Have you had other visions like this?

I recalled as best I could the rest of the visions I’d experienced—getting my throat ripped out in the bath after I’d brutally killed two of my vampire servants, blowing up the ancient wooden warship with some sort of energy burst, and breathing underwater while the townsfolk searched the riverbank with torches. What if I could do all of it? There was no doubt my speed and strength were superior to other vampires. And I’d already proven I could heal the wounded. Even the whole breathing water thing might have already happened. There was no way I should have been able to swim across half of west bay—and have a vision—all on one breath of air, and I’d coughed up about a gallon of Lake Michigan afterwards.

I had to admit harnessing massive amounts of energy with my bare hands—like I had when I dreamed of the warship—sounded more like magic than any kind of suppressed mental ability. Then again, wasn’t magic really just a catch-all word used to explain anything we couldn’t comprehend? Being able to control someone else’s body sounded pretty magical, too, and that was real enough. I was tempted to arc my hands apart like I’d seen the male warrior do just to see if anything would happen.

As if sensing my thoughts, Sienna captured both of my wrists in a cuff-like grip, pinning them against the waist of my jeans. Her fear for my well-being was evident, but she was also none to subtly asserting her dominance. "We will explore your other potential abilities together through controlled and carefully monitored experiments. You will not experiment on your own unless you are facing a life-threatening situation, and you will inform me of any additional visions you have as soon as you have them. Promise me, Brooke, on your word as my daughter and your oath to our coven. I will not have our family miraculously spared from one tragedy only to turn around and lose you to your own recklessness."

I’d been politely reprimanded, growled at and even cursed out more times than I could count the last few months—I was a teenager, after all—but Sienna had never resorted to anything physical. Not that pinning my arms down was equivalent to hitting me or anything. She just seemed desperate to prove she was still capable of controlling me. If she needed some assurance I still knew my place in our family, in spite of my gifts, I was more than happy to oblige. I slowly lowered myself to my knees, never taking my eyes off of hers. I know I can be mouthy sometimes, and I suck at doing chores, but I promise I will never defy you. Well, not about anything important anyway.

Sienna let out a laugh as she shifted her grip from my wrists to my hands, raising them toward her like a queen might greet a debutante. Thank you, sweetheart, for that conveniently qualified but honest vow. As for your chores, with the exception of doing laundry—for the love of all that’s holy, let’s never go there again—I’d attribute your rather checkered track record more to being lazy than any lack of technical ability.

There was certainly some truth to that. I’d discovered early on that while I couldn’t outright skip my chores, as long as I made a half-assed attempt to vacuum or dust, Ruby or Sandy would ignore Raven’s objections and step in. It usually took me less than ten minutes before I was back to doing whatever it was Sienna had yanked me away from. One of these days my sisters would threaten to strangle me with the vacuum cord rather than cover for me, but until then I was riding the be-nice-to-the-new-girl gravy train as long as I could. Fair enough.

Sienna helped me to my feet just as Ruby and Raven returned from carrying their latest load to our vehicles. Ruby’s new chin length bob had stylish, teased up layers and spray-in burgundy highlights. With her heavily shadowed eyes, sheer-paneled stretch knit dress and cropped designer leather jacket, I barely recognized her. You look amazing, Ruby! Your hair is gorgeous!

Isn’t it? Sandy agreed, her arm snaking tightly around my waist. Our artist techno-geek sister finally has some attitude.

I shot an accusatory glare toward Sienna, gesturing down my body with my hand. I get turned into Maude the librarian, and Ruby becomes a runway model. Admit it—you’re still not over the sweaters.

Sienna tiredly rubbed the back of her neck, sighing heavily. "You’re not being punished, Brooke. All that matters is you both look drastically different. And with your… unusual eyes, we want as few people to notice you as possible. Now can we move on to more important topics?"

Yeah, let’s not discuss your passive aggressive pseudo-parenting style. Maude—or Karen Ridley, to be precise—was featured in all her glory on my new California driver’s license, ensuring I’d be stuck sporting this degrading look for years. Maybe that was the point. Maybe Sienna was subjecting me to some bullshit Hallmark moment life lesson about vanity. I admit, after my lower middle class upbringing, I enjoyed owning some nice things for a change. Sue me.

Convinced I was on to something, I opened my mouth to present my case, but the firm set of her jaw and icy stare made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for any further rebuttal. I gave her a stiff, I-don’t-at-all-agree-with-you nod.

"Good. Stefan and Alexander are cutting their Australia trip short. They’re flying to L.A. this weekend so they can weigh in on our long-term strategy and provide additional security in case our disappearing act isn’t as effective as we hope.

As for your father, Sienna continued, turning her attention back to me. It took some convincing, but David finally agreed to tell everyone he was retiring and moving south. Given how brutal the winter has been up there this year, that shouldn’t be too surprising. He’s going to move into our house in Phoenix and assume a new identity so the police can’t locate him once you’ve been identified. Threatening him with jail time would be far too easy of a way to draw you out. Don’t worry. You’ll still be able to visit—it’s only a five-hour drive from L.A.

What about Britt? I had a sinking feeling that anyone who didn’t join us now—even my best friend, who’d become almost a de facto coven member after our trip to Traverse City—was going to be cut off from us entirely.

Sienna’s complete lack of eye contact confirmed my fears. She offered to let me turn her, Brooke, if that’s what it would take to see you again. That’s how much she loves you. Hell, we’ve all grown close to her over the last couple of weeks. If it weren’t for her lovely sister and her parents, I might have even considered it. Unfortunately I had no choice. While the police couldn’t charge her with aiding and abetting a fugitive as easily as they could your father, they will certainly question her. I made her swear on her own life and that of her family that she wouldn’t reveal anything she learned to the authorities. Her sincerity is the only reason I’m not making a side trip to Lansing right now. I told her we all wished her well, but she was never to make any effort to contact us again. She was still begging me to reconsider when I hung up.

The grim expression on Sienna’s lightly freckled face sapped away the budding anger I felt toward her. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Britt had her own life to live. I’d never ask her to drop out of college, give up her dream of making it on the pro tennis tour and assume a new identity just so we could hang out together, let alone abandon Rachel and her loving parents. But that didn’t mean losing the closest thing I’d had to a sister growing up didn’t tear me apart inside. I can’t even imagine never seeing her again. A week ago we promised she could visit us for the rest of her life. It doesn’t even seem real.

Sienna took hold of my hand, cradling it against her hip. I know, baby. I’m so sorry.

Yet another thing Travis and Teresa had stolen from me. I wished I had the power to resurrect their mangled corpses just so I could enjoy ripping them apart again. Their deaths had been far too quick. The thoughts of grizzly torture that danced through my mind made me frightened of the person I was becoming, and I hastily shook them away. My growing rage did serve one legitimate purpose, however. It was the only reason I wasn’t collapsing on the floor in tears.

As for riding arrangements, Sienna said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over us. Brooke, you’ll ride with Raven in her Navigator. We’ve thoroughly cleaned the carpet in the back, but I’m sure there's still trace DNA in the carpet fibers. I'd rather have it with us than take a chance on leaving it here for the authorities to find. Sandy, you and I will join Ruby in her Escalade. Those pairings should give us fairly equal firepower in both cars. Ruby modified the addresses tied to the registrations, so the police won’t be able to find our home simply by tracing the plates, even if they did capture them on a security camera near the mall. We’ll get valid California plates as soon as we get to LA. Let’s finish loading up—I was hoping to be out of Boston by now.

After tossing my suitcases into the back of Raven’s freshly washed Navigator, I returned to my room for the final time, cutting between my fairytale-worthy Victoria canopy bed and mahogany desk in order to lift Ruby’s painting from the far wall. I’d only slept here a few weeks, but the hollow feeling inside me felt more like I was leaving behind the room I’d lived in since birth. I guess in some ways, I was.

Romance on the Run

I t’s okay if you don’t like it, Sandy said, reaching to take my wine glass from me. Evidently I hadn’t concealed my bitter beer face as well as I’d thought. How could something you drink taste this dry ? Throw in the pungent grapefruit aftertaste, and I felt like even the three sips I’d managed were quite an accomplishment.

Sorry. I wished I could down the entire bottle to settle my nerves. Unfortunately, even if I could stand the taste, it wasn’t possible for me to get drunk. I let her take the glass as I sat on the edge of our king-sized bed. Our trip had been blessedly uneventful so far, but it had still taken us until almost midnight to reach Syracuse with the snow, and another thirty minutes to find a hotel with vacancy so close to New Year’s Eve.

Our rather spacious room had blue-diamond-patterned carpet and off-white walls, with dark stained furniture and the obligatory hotel print artwork. Nothing fancy, but it was clean, and the bed was comfortable enough. The bed. Even after shedding the god-awful wig and glasses, I still felt horribly plain with no makeup and such baggy clothes. Sandy snatched the remote from the TV stand, flipping through the XM radio stations until she landed on a nineties-love-ballad station. Oh god. Did she really expect us to slow dance?

She flashed me a somewhat devious smile as she motioned me to join her, wagging her finger toward her chest.

Isn’t there a techno station on there somewhere? I begged, reluctantly sliding off the bed. Or dance, hip-hop, heavy metal…anything?

She just laughed as she took my right hand and pulled me close to her, placing her other hand on my shoulder. I’d learned to slow dance for my prom, so when she nudged my shoulder and pulled my right hand forward, I mirrored her steps, letting her lead me in a sweeping turn to the right. Our hands were positioned more informally down by our hips, but the step, touch-together foot movements were familiar. We began to glide around the room, picking up on subtle cues from each other like we’d been slow dancing together for years. There’s no doubt grinding against each other to some upbeat club music would have been more physically stimulating, but somehow this felt far more intimate. I’d never done anything so romantic.

When Celine Dion’s My heart will go on came on, our movements slowed. Sandy wrapped both hands around my waist, drawing our bodies closer. We began to kiss, softly at first, our lips barely brushing together, but soon our mouths were locked in hungry, lustful exchanges. She lifted me up and guided us back toward the bed as I wrapped my feet around her waist. I was pulling up on the bottom of her pink hoodie even as my back hit the mattress, sliding it over her head and tossing it to the floor. All she had on underneath was a black lace bra that looked at least a size too small based on how firmly her breasts were pressed against the sheer fabric. I yearned to free them, but when I reached for the hooks on the front of her bra, Sandy took hold of my wrists, quickly pinning both of my arms above my head.

Were you serious about what you said before at your dad’s house? About this turning you on?

The seductive, predator-like look in her eyes made me squirm beneath her hips. My mind was so frazzled it took me a minute to even remember our night on the floor of my parent’s house, when she’d confessed how long she’d fantasized about sleeping with me. Since she had me pinned at the time, I’d made some snarky comment about being turned on by her taking control of my body. Now she was calling me on it. We’d never had any sort of kinky fetish sex talk before. Part of me was concerned just how far she might want to take things—the thought of being whipped or abused in any way was a total turn off—but some submissive-pet role playing? Fuck yeah. Imagining what she might command me to do made my cheeks burn. Keep it fun, okay?

Sandy leaned down, giving me a whisper of a kiss that made me tremble in anticipation. Always. So is that a yes?

My heart thundered inside my chest as I nodded.

She flashed her teeth in a wicked grin and pressed my wrists even harder against the bed. I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.

Yes, I muttered.

I just about came when she slapped my cheek. You shall address me as ‘Mistress.’ Is that clear, slave?

The mewling groan that escaped my mouth sounded like a feral cat in heat. Yes, Mistress.

Very good. Sandy ran her fingers across my lips and down the length of my neck before taking a firm hold of my breast. Now, when I get up, you will slowly strip for me. Once you’re naked you will lie back on the bed and play with yourself while I watch. You will have two minutes to make yourself come. If you fail to climax, you will be punished. Understood?

Damn. She was good at this. I quickly nodded before remembering her instructions, earning me another light slap. Yes, Mistress. Given how horny I was, I doubted it would take half that long.

Sandy climbed off of me and took a seat at the desk, straddling the chair backwards while she waited. My heart was racing so fast that my hands began to shake as I climbed to my feet. Thankfully music was still playing, even if it was Bryan Adams. I began to move my hips to the slow rhythm of the played-to-death wedding song while I inched my turtleneck over my head. Sliding my jeans off seductively presented more of a challenge, but they were loose enough for me to kick off without sitting down. I shed my long sleeve T-shirt while bending in front of her, shaking my red, hi-cut panty clad ass only inches from her face.