by Lucian Bane
She appeared with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, eyes wide. “Phones disconnected?” she mumbled around toothpaste. “Why?”
“I have no clue. But we don’t have to go to a formal dinner this time. Thank fuck, right?”
The semi-disappointed look on her face said she’d liked them. I sure fucking didn’t.
I went behind her and held her hips while she bent over and rinsed her mouth. “I want to fuck you like this.”
She hurried past me and searched for her clothes. “Aren’t you worried? They turned off our phones, I mean that’s like…huge red flag in my mind. What do you think is wrong?”
I brushed my teeth next, needing to kiss her. I found my clothes and got into them then snatched her arm on one of her fly-bys. I jerked her to me. “Fucking kiss me,” I demanded, annoyed with her.
She pecked me and tried to pull away and I yanked her back.
“That was insulting. You’re about to hurt my feelings.”
She suddenly stopped and looked at me with a smile. “You’re such a baby. And all you think about is fucking.”
“No, all I think about is you. It’s not my fault you’re an insanely fuckable woman.” She gave me the kiss I wanted and I mmmed in deep satisfaction. “Better.”
“Can we go now, Mr. Bane?”
“Yes, Ms. Reese.”
We met Steve in the hall and headed to his room quite a ways down the hall. Once in, we all gathered around the laptop. Steve looked at his watch. “Five more minutes.”
Tara bit at her thumbnail in the chair and I stood behind her, massaging her shoulders. She finally brushed my hand away. “I don’t like relaxing when I need to be tense.” She looked at Steve. “You said our scores were good?”
“Yes, exceptionally, I’d say.”
I pulled a seat up next to her and sat. She seemed to like that and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.
Finally the screen filled with the logo we’d all come to love in a loathsome kind of way. I wasn’t eager to see the face of that woman on the screen and was pleasantly surprised to discover a male announcer this time.
“We regret to inform our faithful spectators and contestants that the former announcer will no longer be with the company due to rule infringements.
“Ohhhh,” Tara whispered. “Bitch got hers, didn’t she?” Her tone hissed with excitement. “Wonder what happened?”
I kissed her hand. “I can only imagine.”
“Without further ado, I will announce the results for Round Four.”
Tara squeezed my hand harder. “What if we lost?”
“There were nine teams in this round and out of those, seven teams scored enough to advance to the semi-final round. We will now put up the flags that belong to the respective countries that will be advancing to the next round.”
“Oh God, oh God,” Tara whispered as the flags slowly materialized. She flew up out her chair when the American flag faded in, before spinning and hugging me, then Steve.
I strained to hear what he was saying. “Shhhh, listen.”
Tara hurried and sat back down.
“We are not happy to announce that one of the teams listed in the winners was caught cheating. And for that, they will either be eliminated, or disciplined.”
“Oh fuck,” I said, all my good feelings gone.
The man turned and mumbled something then spoke into the microphone again. “We will now raise the flag on the screen of the team facing this fate.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered at seeing the American flag fade into view.
“Oh no,” Tara barely whimpered.
Steve pulled a chair up and sat now and we all leaned forward.
“Team America was discovered violating the no contact rule put in place by the Dom Wars Games.”
“What?! How did they find out?” Tara looked at me.
“No idea. I didn’t have my camera. Were you still wearing yours?”
The man continued. “The penalty is face elimination or discipline. We let our spectators vote on this action and the decision for America’s beloved couple, was nearly unanimous. They will not be eliminated, but disciplined.”
Tara sighed in relief while I tensed at what was coming.
“The discipline the American Team faces is… They will be sent to the current top Dom for training and discipline.”
“Oh fuck,” I whispered while Tara whimpered in worry.
“And who is our current top Dom? Hold on to your pants ladies and gentlemen, because this man is a phenomenal beast in every sense of the word. Playing for the country of South Africa, with a nearly impeccable performance on just about every front, our current top Dom is Zack Selvin, aka, get ready for this, The Preacher Dom.”
Images of a massive man that appeared Caucasian flashed on the screen. Dread hit my guts at what I saw. The right side of his face was drawn tight with maybe a burn scar while dark brown eyes smiled with murder at the camera. His bare torso was so large and built he looked like a fucking animation.
“Maybe…he’s a good guy.” Dread and terror leeched into Tara’s words.
“He did say preacher,” Steve muttered.
I shook my head, feeling sick. “Or maybe he’s just another monster that thinks he’s God.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Tara hung her head. Guilt slammed me and ate a wide path through me. Because this here? This was fucking all my fault.