“You want to know what BDSM is?” he had said.
I had nodded, still giggling like a little girl.
“Okay, turn over. Onto your stomach.”
I did it, wriggling my little body on his bed until I was face down against his pillow.
“Now put your arms above your head. Yeah, like that. Hold on.”
I had stopped giggling by then, but it’s not like I was scared or anything. We were just playing, I knew. And besides, it felt nice to have Cam straddling me as I lay on my stomach. He wasn’t putting his full weight on me, but I could feel him kinda sitting on my ass, and the pressure felt good.
“Hold on, sis,” Cam had said as I felt him move on top of me, like he was reaching across the bed for something.
A moment later I felt him grab my left wrist and loop a soft scarf around it. Then he wound the scarf around my right wrist and tied the ends to the railing at the top of his metal-framed bed.
I remember breathing heavily at the time, perhaps wondering what was going on. But I let him do it. He was my big brother and I trusted him.
“You still wanna know what BDSM is?” he had asked me from above and behind.
“Uh-huh,” I had said, nodding as my face dug into his soft pillow, taking in his smell.
“Okay, sis,” he had said.
Then he pulled my hair, drawing my head back, and before I knew what was happening he had blindfolded me with one of his bandannas, cutting out my vision so quickly and unexpectedly that I remember squealing with surprised excitement.
I blink my eyes as I focus in on the present, and I find myself staring at Cam now, all grown up, talking to this biker. I am still trembling slightly, still a bit drunk, but I cannot deny that there is excitement surging through me now as the memories of that day in Cam’s room come roaring back to me.
It’s not like this was some traumatic, repressed memory that I had buried deep or something. At least I don’t think so. I mean, I remember it, and I think about it sometimes, along with all the other moments Cam and I played together, rode together, fought together. But right now, in this situation, it seems strangely important, almost prophetic, like hindsight is telling me that maybe it was a sign of what was to come, of what was inside Cam, what was inside me.
So that day in Cam’s room, as I lay there blindfolded and bound by the wrists, I felt a strange sensation of complete vulnerability. At first it was terrifying, and I wanted to tell Cam I had had enough and he should untie me. But by then I had gotten used to pushing myself past the point of some initial fear, pushing myself so that Cam would see me as a woman and not a girl, as someone who could ride with him.
And so I sucked in my nervousness and fear as Cam slowly got off my back and guided my knees up so I was crouching, face down in the pillow, my little ass sticking straight up in the air. I was wearing green cotton shorts which had ridden up all the way over my asscheeks, and I remember feeling a slight breeze find its way into my crotch from behind, making me shiver.
“You still want to know what BDSM is, sis?” Cam asked one more time, and his voice was shaking a bit, if I remember right.
I nodded again, grinding my face into Cam’s pillow, sticking my ass up. It felt freaky and weird, but I liked it, liked the idea of being powerless, at the mercy of my big brother, someone I trusted with my life, certainly my body.
“Okay, sis,” Cam had said, and then, without another word, he brought his hand down HARD on my raised-up ass!
I remember SCREAMING as he spanked me, first with his left hand, then with his right. It wasn’t for long, but he got both my asscheeks good and red before reaching over and pulling off my blindfold and untying me as he laughed hysterically.
“You DICK, Cam!” I remember shouting as I turned and LEAPED at him, pummeling and slapping as he laughed and grabbed at me.
We both fell onto his bed, wrestling and laughing, cursing and squealing. This wasn’t that unusual for us, and so when my stepmom came into the room to see what the hell was going on, she wasn’t particularly freaked out or surprised. I mean, sure, looking back, I remember my dad once talking to my stepmom about how he was a bit uncomfortable about how physical Cam and my relationship seemed to be sometimes. But nothing ever came of it. Nobody talked to us about it. And it never got too far beyond sibling stuff. Our contact was always in play and fun. Sure, we hugged each other once in a while, but it’s not like we cuddled together or did anything that got too close to the line.
But did he want to, I wonder now as I look at my handsome, muscular brother talk to this biker, holding his own against a man twice his size, negotiating for his sister’s safety. Maybe when I was twelve I didn’t understand the excitement I felt, the kind of body-focused excitement all kids feel in that wholesome, innocent way. But Cam was fifteen that day when he tied me up and spanked me.
And now I think of the way he moved my knees up under me so my ass stuck up straight in the air, and I wonder how long he hesitated before starting to spank me. Did he stare at my little round ass all those years ago, his fifteen-year-old penis getting stiff in his Star Wars boxers as he gasped at the sight of my smooth rump in those tiny green shorts? Did he considering sliding his fingers around the sides of my shorts which were all ridden up into my asscrack and crotch? Would I have let him?
Without realizing it I am breathing heavy now, and I blink hard as I try to focus back on what’s going on here. The situation seems to have calmed down, and it doesn’t look like there’s going to be any violence. But there is still a tension in the room, a grim look on my brother’s face as he stops talking and blinks for a moment, like he is thinking.
No violence, I think as I try to remember more about the Vox Riders’ bylaws and initiation rites. These guys were not about violence and bar fights. No violence, but . . .
16
CAMERON
It comes roaring back to me as I listen to this guy speak. My mind is racing and my vision is blurring as my readiness to fight is slowly replaced by a growing tension of another sort, a creeping feeling that we’re not in the clear yet. Nowhere close.
“I’m Granger,” the man says to me, his hand still extended.
I have not shaken his hand yet, but now I cautiously reach out and take it. This is just an introduction, I tell myself. Shaking his hand doesn’t mean I am committing to anything. And I am not committing to anything. Certainly not now that I’m starting to remember more about what the Riders are all about.
B.
D.
S.
M.
Yup. It’s all clear in my head now. These guys eventually did security at underground BDSM parties, but they started off as a group of bikers who loved the bondage and domination scene. That was how they blew off steam, channeled their fire, their urges, their energy. Like I’ve always known, sex and violence run on the same engine, and these guys were straddling the middle, taking sex to the brink of violence, bringing violence to the bedside of sex.
I look over at Darcy for a moment and catch her staring at me. I wonder if she remembers anything about the Riders, about that day she asked me about them, that day I told her about them. Well, more than just told her. I showed her. Does she remember? Does she remember when I spanked her smooth round ass in my bed? It was a relatively minor incident, I know. Never happened again. She was a kid and maybe she just remembers it as one of the many times I messed with her. No, she may not remember it clearly, but I sure as hell do.
I remember my body reacting in a way that was shocking to me as I stared at my sister all tied up, blindfolded, laid out in front of me, totally under my control, WILLINGLY under my control. I could have done anything I wanted and she would have allowed it. The rush I got was incredible, the feeling of being in that dominant position, my sister completely submitting to me. I still remember how fast my cock stiffened in my pants that day, and it took all my willpower
to not just pull down those little green shorts of Darcy’s and push my face in there, lick her with my hungry tongue, spread her wide with my fingers and then—
“So you know something about us,” Granger is saying as I snap out of my daydream. “You know what we’re about.”
I glance over at Darcy once more before focusing back on Granger’s eyes. “Yes,” I say in an expressionless monotone.
Now Granger smiles and nods. “And you’ve read about our initiation rituals. Not that they’re supposed to be public knowledge, but nothing’s a secret these days.”
I nod without breaking eye contact, without saying a word. That feeling of tension and fight is rising back up in me now, even though I know these guys aren’t fixing to fight. No, I know what they want, and there’s no way it can happen.
A lot of outlaw MCs don’t allow women into their clubs at all, but the Riders are a bit different. They’re as sexist as any of the other clubs, but they do consider women part of the club in two ways. One is what Granger mentioned earlier—that some women are considered property of the club. These are essentially willing submissives who are shared by the men, often in groups, often with other club members watching and cheering. And that’s not an option here. I’d die before I let that happen.
The other way in which the Riders allow women into their club is if the woman has a dom who’s a member. So any male Rider who claims a regular submissive is given sort of a “protection” status over his sub. In other words, a sub who “belongs” to a Rider will not be shared amongst the group.
Now suddenly I feel a catch in my throat as my mind races ahead to where all of this is going. Granger isn’t going to let Darcy go. What he said about her being property of the Riders still stands. The only thing that’s changed is that for some reason he’s giving me a chance to . . . to . . . what . . .?
I almost shout out loud as I realize what’s happening, what’s going to happen, what HAS to happen if I want to walk out of here with my Darcy, my girl, my sister.
Because there’s only one way that can happen now. There’s only one option being given to me.
I need to claim my sister in front of these men.
I need to become her dom.
17
DARCY
I watch in silence as all the color drains from my brother’s face in an instant. It is like an awful realization has just dawned on him, and it scares me to the bone. What is it, Cam? Are we not really safe? What’s going on?
“What’s going on, Cam?” I manage to say, but my voice is soft and uncertain, my spunk and fire held in check by the events of the past half hour.
Cam is still staring at Granger, and now I hear Cam’s voice. It is low and mostly steady, but there is a shaky undercurrent to it that chills me and warms me at the same time.
“This isn’t happening,” Cam is saying now. “None of it is happening. I’m going to walk out that door with my girl, and that’s that.”
Granger has been smiling all this while—not the nicest smile, but still a smile. Now, however, his expression goes dead and his eyes turn cold. It is a remarkable change, and my breath catches as I feel the fear rise up in me again.
Granger leans in towards Cam, but I can still hear his deep voice. “Listen, kid,” he says. “I see some fire in you, and I respect it. But do you understand how fucking unusual it is for me to even give you this option? Do you understand what’s going on here, kid? I’m giving you a way out. You kids look young, especially your girl, which is why I'm doing this. It's a way out for you and your girl. The only way out.”
Cam grins now, a cockiness suddenly in his voice. “And the only way out is in, right?”
Granger grins too. “You got it, kid. The only way out is in.”
Cam shakes his head now like a dog at the beach. “And if I say no, then what? You kick my ass? Kill me?”
Granger just crosses his arms over his huge chest and sighs. Then he takes a step to the side and points at the door. “Nope. Like I said, there’s the door. You can leave at any time.”
Cam blinks hard and takes a deep breath, glancing at me from the corner of his eye and then turning back to Granger. “But she can’t. She’s property of the Riders now. Is that it?”
“Bingo,” says Granger, his eyes still cold even though that grin is still on his face.
“Look,” Cam says now. “I’ve read about you guys. You have your scene, and it’s pretty wild from what I hear. Borderline insane. But all your—” Now Cam pauses and glances at me once more, blinking as he forces himself to look away. When he speaks again, it is in a low voice, like he doesn’t want me to hear. But I can hear him just fine. “—submissives,” he says. “All your subs are there of their own accord. They choose to be submissives. They are willing participants.”
Granger just stares right at Cam. “Let’s just say they all end up being willing participants. Right, boys?”
As if on cue, the other three dirtbags giggle like ugly choirboys, and Cam just takes a step forward. I can see that he is fighting his desire to just UNLEASH on this motherfucker, but somehow he controls himself and just goes on talking:
“That’s kidnapping,” Cam says now. “Kidnapping and sexual assault. That’s a federal crime. You guys know what goes on in federal prison, right?”
Granger just shrugs and looks over at the door again. “Like I said, there’s the door, kid. Walk outside and call the cops, the FBI, the goddamn Marines if you want. We’ll be gone out the back before you get taken off hold by the 911 operator. Maybe they find us, maybe they don’t. Maybe you see your girl again, maybe you don’t. Your call, kid.”
Cam shakes his head again, letting out a laugh of disbelief. “You’re bluffing,” he says with confidence, almost scoffing at Granger. “No way you want that kind of heat on your people. You’re fucking bluffing.”
“Try me,” Granger says now, stepping square in front of Cam, his voice low, almost a growl, his eyes narrow like an animal’s. “Just try me, kid.”
My mind races as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. I know they asked Cam to join their club. I know that for some reason Cam doesn’t want to. I know that they consider me their property now. I know the Riders are into the BDSM scene. Now, what was Cam saying about submissives? I’m no expert, but I know some of the terminology—I mean everyone in college knows the words DOM and SUB. So, what, they’re saying I would be a submissive or something in their club? And Cam is saying that all their submissives are currently there of their own accord, willingly, so if they took me against my will, it would be kidnapping?
Okay. All right. So Cam says they’re bluffing. Which means right now he’s thinking that maybe he walks out the door and calls the cops, betting on the fact that they are bluffing and they won’t really kidnap me or hurt me or whatever. He’s probably right, I think. But there’s a chance he’s wrong, and what if he’s wrong? Is Cam going to roll the dice with me like that? Maybe. But why? What’s the other option that’s so horrible? What’s so horrible about joining their MC just so we can get the hell out of here? Is part of their initiation some kind of sick group sex thing? Is Cam trying to protect me from that? But that would happen anyway, right? If I’m their property and I become a sub for the MC, then these guys will do what they want with me anyway. What changes if Cam agrees to join?
Then a wild thought occurs to me as I stare at my brother once more, his fists clenched, body tensed up, jaw all tight. I don’t know if it’s because I am remembering something I know about the Riders’ bylaws and rules or if I am just blindly guessing based on what I have heard in this room, but I suddenly feel like I have the answer.
“Cam,” I shout. “Cam! Listen to me!”
Cam turns, and he just stares at me. He shakes his head slightly, tries to smile, and takes a deep breath. “I got this, Darcy. Don’t worry. It’s going to be all right.”
But he doesn’t sound convinced, and as he turns back to Granger, I realize that he isn’t going to walk out that door. No, he’s going to do something even stupider—he’s going to fight.
“Cam, no!” I shout. “Listen. Please. Come talk to me. Please!”
No response from Cam, and he is slowly backing away from Granger, his arms flexing, his knees bending into a fighter’s stance. This is suicide. I can’t let this happen. What do I do. What do I fucking DO!
And without thinking, I just start talking furiously, my voice loud and urgent. “Listen,” I shout. “It’s not kidnapping if I go with them willingly. The police can’t do shit if I go with them willingly. I’m over eighteen. I’m an adult. I can do what the fuck I want. With whomever I want.”
Cam turns to me in stunned silence. His jaw is hanging open as he stares at me. I am stunned too, not sure what I am saying. I know I have made a gamble too. What the hell am I doing!
But somehow I know what I am doing. I’ve put the pieces together—part of it based on what I’m hearing and seeing, part of it based on the fragments of memories about everything I had read and heard about the Vox Riders. Yes, I know what I’m doing. I’m giving Cam no option. I’m signaling to him that I’m ready. Ready to submit.
Because I know what has to be done.
Today, right here, in this dimly lit bar, Cam and I are going to cross that line.
Cam, my best friend.
Cam, my love.
Cam, my stepbrother.
Cam, my . . . DOM!
18
CAMERON
I almost pass out on my feet as I stare into Darcy’s sweet brown eyes. Oh, God, sis. Do you know what you’re doing? Do you have any IDEA what you’re doing?
Suddenly I feel anger rise up in me, anger at myself for putting us in this situation, anger with Darcy for digging us in deeper. But the anger passes quickly when I realize that Darcy is stepping in to protect me. She sees that I’m about to lose my shit and just clock this motherfucker in the jaw, consequences be damned. So she’s boxing me in. Telling me that fighting isn’t an option. No violence.
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