Like the rest many rooms that uninvited guests would never see, the master bedroom was decorated in BDSM-chic. Above the bed were mirrored panels; anchored to the ceiling was a naked wooden beam, over which ropes could be thrown and tied. There were all manner of hooks and pulleys attached to the beam, which could be used for immobilizing or displaying the bound in various positions. Again, Gerry had used club funds to equip his bedroom with many different types of toys, which were either displayed openly or were within easy reach in various chests and bureaus around the room.Sam remained ignorant of my presence, which was what I wanted for the moment. I stood at the end of the bed and looked down on him, empathizing with the pain he felt. I didn't really have to look into his mind, as his sadness was being broadcast with such force that those without powerful supernatural forces at their command could feel it.But I was struck by an image in the front of his mind. Sam saw himself as a. She gave a frustrated sigh. That could not be good. ‘I warned you,’ she said in the same stern voice. I heard her walk into my adjoining bathroom. Before I could process that the shower was running, she had me hoisted over her shoulder in a fireman’s grip, literally ripped my boxers down my legs like I was a little kid, and also quite literally, dumped me into the bathtub where I was greeted with an ice cold stream of water. ‘I’m giving you five minutes. Wash up. We have a busy day,’ she commanded, her voice smooth and sweet as butter cream frosting. She shut the curtain and I heard her retreat to the bedroom. Nursing a slightly sore elbow and a largely bruised ego, I stood, cranked the faucet as quickly as I could to the hottest setting, and found, to my dismay, that an erection was visible. Damn, I hope she didn’t see that. With two minutes to spare, I stepped out of the shower and saw that sometime in the past three minutes Lacey had picked out clothes for me to wear. I walked.
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