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Chapter One
Kiera
I stood well inside the boundary of all the things I shouldn’t do, but I was going to do them anyway. There’s solid advice amongst the flotsam of BDSM dating dos and don’ts if you know where to look, and who to trust in finding a playmate. First and foremost is the good olddon’t meet someone from another place (or anyplace) without doing a little research first.
Make sure you meet for the first time in a public place.
Tell someone you trust where you’re going.
Have an exit strategy.
I knew all of those and many more. Being part of the kink community and online dating since I was legal gave me all that info, stored in a usually smart brain that protected me.
Being a civet cat—read scavenger and not a local part of the shifter community—made it a little harder to connect, but I was determined not to lose that part of me. And yes, I was too damn horny and lonely. What? A girl has needs, and needs must be met.
Hence why it was such a pity that today I wasn’t using any of the Knowledge Tree nous I acquired over the years. I hadn’t done much research on the man I’d been talking to for months; I let him pick the place in an industrial estate, and no one knew where I was.
The only thing I’d gotten right was the time of day. Sunset was still several hours away, and I’d be in and out before then.
It’s just a platonic meeting.
And I could be dead, bruised, or leaving under someone else’s steam.
I knew those things. My brainscreamedthem at me.
So why was I wishing my way through a labyrinth of twisting and turning corridors in an isolated hospital wing to find a man who had flown in from an overseas trip and hadn’t even been to his own city-sider home yet without a single thread of a safety net, let alone a full one?
Because the man I was meeting was Damon Blake, acclaimed neurosurgeon within the shifter community for his research, a well known and respected name which populated the kink community for his tastes in full-time service submissives and his training techniques.
And a komodo dragon.
Not a real dragon, of course. Just a giant ass lizard that would scare any regular person with its appearance alone, and a mortal enemy to my own little beastie. I kept my secret weapon tucked away for a rainy day.
Rumor had it the doctor was an ex MMA fighter, and the concept of a mixed martial artist cum dragon made a hellishly sexually appealing match in my mind.
So I kept winding my way along the halls, each more isolated than the next, a whisper of fear working its way around my stomach. When I found the office door, its sterile number slightly lopsided, I pressed one palm to its cool surface. My breath came a little too fast as though I’d run along the halls instead. I sucked in a short breath that was nowhere near enough, then knocked.
Damon Blake looked nothing like his pictures and a thousand times more intimidating.
Dark hair, thick and razored in long spikes, speared out at haphazard angles. A black tie with the thinnest royal blue line accentuated his black shirt as he scratched frantically at a leather-bound journal before him. I wondered if he wrote basic observations of some upcoming surgery or the filthy words we’d exchanged over the past months.
Every single question and answer was etched into my mind; I’d read them many times.
I’m looking for a submissive who can be trained to fulfill my needs at home and when I travel.
I’m looking for a submissive with decorum and a quiet outlook but a clever mind.
I’m looking for a submissive who can handle many kinks, many partners.
I’m looking for a woman I can tease to the edge of her sanity, and when I ask her to serve me, she’ll cast her own desires aside and rise on trembling legs to serve me.
I require dedication, loyalty and…
And what? Sir?
A companion, Kiera.
Damon Blake, genius, surgeon, and skilled master, was lonely.
