Khan
I knew Wrench’s sister considered herself a slave, but I didn’t expect her to hit my radar as one.
Most human women play at power exchange, pretending to give away all their power while leading their men around by the balls.
This one seemed different, and I couldn’t put a finger on why or how, which means the wolf must’ve picked up on something the human missed.
But I reminded myself, for about the tenth time since I’d first seen her, that Wrench’s sister was human. Human.
And Wrench is my friend, so no plans to tie his sister up, take her to my dungeon, torture her until she’s a sobbing mess, and then force orgasms from her to prove she wants to be tortured even more.
The timing sucked, but I had a deal with a local Lugat vampire to train new members of his flock for him, and three new pledges were due to arrive that evening. All were from the same deer enclave, being gifted to him as part of a deal, and I wasn’t privy to those details.
I assumed the two women and one man were on board with the deal, and that it would only be a matter of putting them into the proper mindset of someone who must do as they’re told.
Deer are flighty creatures, so one must take care not to startle them.
Even during a punishment scene, it was best to keep the sound levels modulated.
Temperance had her own car, an adorable little convertible mini-Cooper.
Mad Dog produced a scanner and found a tracker on it, which we later put onto a random car at the corner convenience store about a mile from her house.
While still at her house, Wrench destroyed her phone, tossed the big pieces in the garbage, pocketed the chips with actual information on them, and when she protested, he told her to keep her trap shut — that she’d get a new phone once he was certain it was safe to let her come out of hiding, and not a minute before.
I had a feeling she probably had a burner packed away in one of those boxes, because she only glared at him and didn’t argue.
I also knew he’d find the burner, too. I have a much older brother, but he’d left for college when I was eight, and completely moved out so he wasn’t even home during the summer once he started med school four years later, so I’d mostly been raised as an only child.
Meeting Wrench’s sister explained why he’d been so good at handling manipulative little slave-types right from the start.
I’m good at it because I’m a cold bastard, but Wrench is kind and caring, though he can fucking turn the tables in a heartbeat when a bitch tries to go the manipulative route.
“I’d feel better if our shop ran diagnostics on the car before it goes to Khan’s house,” Mad Dog told Wrench.
“An asshole with a hacker on his team might’ve programmed his girlfriend’s car’s on-board computer to phone home and tell him where she goes.
Since that hacker is one of the people looking for her, I’ll drive her car to the shop, get someone to help me unload your toolbox, and then I’ll drive your truck to Khan’s.
I can catch a ride back to the clubhouse with someone after we get your sister’s things unloaded. ”
“So, no phone and no car?” Temperance asked, and I could smell her frustration and anger from fifteen yards away, but she kept her voice mostly calm.
This one was going to need watching. She’d lived with a grifter and helped him with his scams. It made sense she’d learned when it’s okay to fly off the handle and when it isn’t.
Rather than answer her, Wrench asked, “Where’s the shovel?”
She looked around and then looked back to her brother. “I thought we’d do that alone.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have secrets from my brothers, and Khan is going to know every-fucking-thing. He’s providing sanctuary, so he has a right to know the kind of heat you might pull down on him.”
She looked at me, at her brother, and back to me. “Thank you. I don’t know how much space you have, but letting us live with you is a big ask, and letting me bring so much with me is huge.”
I smiled. “Space isn’t a problem, and you’re welcome.
” I looked up and met Wrench’s gaze. “Why don’t you and your sister ride back with me, so I can explain some things to her, and you’ll hear the conversation?
Crush can drive the moving van.” Dude has a CDL that lets him drive a bus full of people.
Wrench nodded. “It’ll be good for us to be on guard once we get started digging up the backyard.”
Right, because Wrench knew it was supposed to be a lot of cash — hundreds of thousands at a minimum, and possibly millions — but his sister had been cagey about just how much money her former Master had buried in the backyard.
Wrench and I had talked about the possibility of distributing some of it to her former team in order to get them to back off, but he’d need to talk to them and get the lay of the land before making any decisions.
I wasn’t certain whether the level of her injuries would lean him more toward paying them off, or more towards beating the hell out of them and putting the fear of Wrench into them, to keep her safe.
She seemed to be walking and moving okay, and had carried boxes right alongside the shifters.
She’d gravitated towards the lighter boxes, but she’d still made just as many trips back and forth.
But unless I was mistaken, she had some damage to her ribs as well as the black eye she thought she’d covered with makeup, but my wolf could see the swelling, and the extra makeup in that area told the human part of me she was covering something up.
Also, it wasn’t hard to pick out the mostly-healed split lip on her perfectly sculpted mouth.
I could also scent more bruising than what showed on her face, which meant her body likely sported some damage we couldn’t see, and I was pretty sure she’d been raped.
Maybe they used objects and not their dicks, but genital bruising has a scent different from the rest of the body, and every biker present would be able to scent rough sex with a lot of genital bruising and raw skin, and it’d happened in the last three or four days.
Frost might not, if he was here, because birds rely more on visual cues than scent, but everyone here was either wolf or bear, and bears can scent even better than wolves.
I wasn’t needed to help dig, since there were only two shovels, so I went to my truck and called to check on the pro-sub, who was hopefully awake by now. We have a secure app, so we can talk without worry of LEO listening in.
“I don’t know whether to say thank you or I’m sorry,” she said when she answered the phone. “So I’ll say both. Thank you for taking care of me, and I’m mortified I fell apart like that.”
“It happens,” I told her. “You’ve been through rougher scenes and walked out without an ounce of emotion. I know you’re a pro, but sometimes shit gets past your walls. Anything going on in your life I need to know about? Jake’s things weren’t in the closet or the bathroom.”
She blew out a breath. “Yeah. We broke up about a week ago. Can we look over my schedule and maybe try to move a few clients to someone else? I’m not interested in taking any time off, but maybe in lightening the load a little?”
We’d just brought another pro-sub on board, so that was actually workable.
“Sure. Use the secure app to text me the dates and times for the appointments you think might be more than you can handle, and I’ll see what I can work out and call you, probably tomorrow or the next day, to let you know which I can get moved for you.
You going to be okay tomorrow night? Clean will be your monitor.
” We’d scheduled her for a pussy-whipping and double-fisting scene so close after an intense whipping/caning one because it’s different parts of the body being hurt.
“Yeah, he’s a good customer. He gets into being sympathetic while he hurts you, and that absolutely works for me.
Last night was just cold from start to finish, and I felt frozen and dead on the inside, after.
Thanks for putting me in a hot shower and then holding me.
It was exactly what I needed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did anyway, and I know you won’t let me give you a bigger cut, but I wish you would. ”
A few months earlier, a customer who’d paid to use a knife as a mindfuck had actually fucking cut her with it.
I’d stormed in to stop the scene, sliced into him, beat the ever-loving-fuck out of him, and then I’d stitched her up myself because she isn’t a fan of the retired doc we use.
Says he reminds her too much of her grandfather, who she was apparently close to.
Anyway, she’d tried to give me a larger percentage of her take, and I’d refused it because we value our employees, and we’ve already figured out what we think is a fair split for the services we provide.
“We’re good, and you get six sessions a year with a kink-friendly therapist we keep on retainer. Let any of us know if you need to set something up with her, and she’ll contact you to work out a time.”
“Fuck, Khan, I don’t need therapy. Shit. I’ll be there tomorrow night, and you know I’m good with Clean.”
I chuckled, because I’d known offering the therapy sessions would remind her she’s a strong bitch who’s going to be fine.
“Let me know if that changes. I know you’re strong, but everyone needs to step back and take some time for themselves occasionally.
Send me the text, and I’ll see if I can’t lighten your workload, at least.”
I disconnected and blew out a breath. We have fourteen pro-submissives, plus three girls who mostly handle the regular johns, but who can take on the d/s clients who aren’t sadists.
I swear, herding cats would be easier, and yet, the job absolutely works for me.
There is a caretaker inside of me who can enjoy giving aftercare to a bruised and welted subby, not to mention the fact I excel at intuitively knowing how to handle what I call s-types — slaves, submissives, and SAMs. Pets and masochists fall into the same category, but they unfortunately don’t start with the right letter.
The point is, sometimes you have to threaten them with a thorough mouth soaping, sometimes they need a good whipping or belting, and sometimes they just need someone to hold them while they fall asleep.
I called Clean and gave him a heads-up on what was going on, so he’d know to watch for issues during the following night’s scene, then backed completely out of the app, put my phone in my pocket, and rejoined my brothers who were watching Wrench and Squatch dig holes in the backyard.
When Squatch pulled the fifth high-dollar plastic ammo case out of the ground, the kind designed to keep moisture out, and that would conveniently defeat metal detectors looking for things buried in the backyard, Dementor asked her, “How did you and your ex come by this much money, and who thinks they have enough of a right to it, it’s okay to tune you up to try to find it? ”
Not a lot of people meet Dementor’s gaze and hold it, but this little human did exactly that, and she told him, “Any really good con artist has a team. You need a cat burglar, a hacker, and other people with acting abilities along with handy talents, to help with your cover. He paid them all a set amount per job based on their personal risk and specific talents, but when it came to splitting the take? He was the boss, and he’d always claim at least half, sometimes more, and then split the rest amongst the team.
I’m good at remembering things, and that kind of became what I do.
I can act, and can handle some of the light tech stuff, and if all else fails, I’m the sexy decoy, but I remember pretty much everything, and that can come in really handy when a scam threatens to go bad. ”
She looked out at the yard. “It also means I know most of his shit, because he relied on my memory for things he didn’t want to write down somewhere.
So, in a line across the backyard, the suitcases are seven feet away from each other, and in feet away from the house, it’s the old song — eight six seven five three oh nine, with the zero being ten, just to throw someone off.
Where there’s a patio, it’s that many feet from the concrete, instead of the house. ”
“Do you know how much money is in the cases?” I asked.
She looked at me and then to her brother. “This isn’t the time or place to talk about those specifics.”