Taking their places on either side of the frame, they lowered the girls until they were resting flat on the padded mat. Working quickly, they released the cuffs and removed the body harnesses. While Adam helped the girls to sit upright, Taggart retrieved two bottles of still-cold water from his gear bag. As the girls sipped their water and talked quietly to each other, Taggart and Adam cleaned the gear and put everything away.
The dungeon party was in full swing now, every scene station occupied and surrounded by goggling spectators. As they helped the naked, smiling women to their feet, Taggart said, “I have access to a back room. What do you say we allow these sexy sub girls to thank us properly for their floggings?” He placed his hand suggestively over his bulging crotch and grinned.
Adam grinned back, delighted with the suggestion. But, while Taggart and Rylee were in a committed Master/slave relationship, he and Shani were still so new. He turned to her, a question in his eyes.
To his surprise, Shani and Rylee looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Taggart and Adam asked in unison.
“That’s what we were whispering about before,” Rylee explained, a devilish smile on her pretty face. “We had exactly the same idea.”
“That’s my girl,” Taggart enthused.
Adam’s cock was stiff with anticipation as he placed an arm gently around Shani’s bare shoulders. “Lead the way,” he added with a grin.Chapter 12It was dark, the air warm and close. She was facing the back wall, her arms bound tightly behind her back. Her long hair was knotted with ropes that were tied around the hook Sir had embedded into the ceiling. Sweat beaded on her upper lip and under her arms. Drool spilled down her chin. Her leg muscles quivered with fatigue as she struggled to stay on her toes.
Just like the coyote trickster in the old tales Mama used to tell her, he’d promised her the moon, if only she shared her sacred birth name. Instead, he’d stolen it and replaced it with new, false names.
Nasty Cunt. Bad Girl. Filthy Slut. Dirty Pig.
If she could only remember her birth name, her warrior powers would return to her.
The sound of something skittering in the walls startled her, making her slam her feet to the ground. She grunted in pain against the ball gag wedged into her mouth as the ropes jerked her hair painfully taut. Tears in her eyes, she struggled back to her toes.
The door of the punishment closet slid open, flooding the tiny room with light. She could feel Sir’s negative energy just behind her. A moment later, a furred paw curled around her throat, choking the breath from her as the claws dug painfully into her flesh.
The coyote panted behind her, his breath hot against her neck. When had he abandoned his human form to become this growling, slathering creature? Fear iced her blood as she felt the prick of his sharp fangs against her neck.
“Have you learned your lesson, Filthy Slut?” The coyote could speak, what was left of the human soul still locked inside. “Do you promise never, ever to do that again?”
She had no idea what she’d done, or failed to do. All she could do was nod.
“I don’t believe you,” the coyote snarled. “You’re a nasty, lying little cunt.”
Terror shot through her veins, the sweat chilling on her skin. Her breath was trapped in her lungs, her heart thundering. Who am I? she begged the Great Spirit. Tell me who I am!
“I can help you,” a warm, deep voice murmured in her soul.
That voice! She knew that voice. It was kind and good. She leaned toward it with her entire being.
Help me. Save me, she silently begged.
“You have the power to help yourself. You have always had that power. All you need to do is remember who you are. It’s always been there in your heart, waiting for you to reclaim it, Princess. Take back your name. Take back your power from the coyote.”
And, all at once, she remembered.
Shani.
She was Shani, one of the five noble princess warriors!
As Sir grunted and shifted behind her, Shani called her name power back into her soul. The rough hemp wrapped around her wrists and knotted in her hair transformed into intricately braided leather whips. Summoning her warrior magic, Shani commanded the whips to life. They trembled and hissed as they metamorphosed into writhing snakes, their scales cool and smooth against her hot skin. They slithered from her arms and uncoiled from her hair. They wound around her body as they waited for her bidding, their scales richly patterned in reds and golds. She whirled to face her tormentor, her being thrumming with returning strength and resolve. “Go back to the spirit world,” she commanded the snakes, “and take him with you.”