Visitors were wandering around, lining up at the various stations. Getting into the spirit, several had stripped off shirts and blouses to better enjoy the sensations.
In a sleeveless black top and black jeans, Olivia demonstrated wax play by dripping candle wax on visitors’ forearms and backs. When a hopeful young woman offered her breasts, Olivia smiled slightly and shook her head.
Ghost studied the British Mistress with the aggressively spiked golden-blonde hair. Her fair skin revealed dark circles under her eyes, and her stocky, muscular frame appeared thinner.
Earlier, Anne had mentioned Olivia had broken up with quiet little Natalia sometime in January. Although the Brit didn’t appear happy, she was a very reserved person. It was doubtful she’d welcome anyone’s help.
With a bottled water in hand, Ghost wandered down the back hallway to see who was in the theme rooms.
Wearing white lab coats, the former Feds, Galen and Vance, had taken over the medical room. Vance was showing a drawerful of enema bags to the visitors—and Ghost chuckled at the shocked exclamations.
In the office theme room, Cullen role-played a billionaire to the hilt. Ghost grinned since there were as many male “secretaries” in there as there were women. Submission had no gender.
The end room—the one Ghost thought of as “orgy central” had been transformed into a giant pen for Saxon to supervise puppy and kitten play. With painted-on whiskers and headbands with furry ears, guests yelped and meowed, batting balls around with furry-mittened hands.
The Shadowlands was a special place.
Wasn’t it a shame Saxon hadn’t provided anyone with furry, anal plug tails?
Smiling, Ghost headed back to his area, swinging by the wall of paddles to pick out a few.
His hand was getting sore.
“Ghost, it’s been a while.” Bottle of water in hand, Nolan slowed to talk. “Connor and Grant drafted Beth and me into coaching their soccer teams. We didn’t make it in last month at all.”
“Same here.” Ghost shook his head. “At the end of January, the university dumped an extra class on me—and I’ve been scrambling to catch up ever since.” In addition, his trialing a new lower leg prosthetic had required a fair amount of time.
“Teaching.” The building contractor grimaced. “I’d rather have a scaffold collapse underneath me.”
Now that seemed excessive. Ghost grinned, then sobered. “We’re not the only ones who took a month off. Cullen’s been tied up with some serial arsonist. Galen, Vance, and Anne…well, their company got busier than they have staff for.”
“The downside of being too good at finding shit.”
“So, it seems.” The retired FBI agents and Mistress Anne specialized in locating missing people, money, children, and anything else that was misplaced.
Nolan frowned. “I’d hate to think we all disappeared the minute we were relieved from duty.”
“Hell, even Josie was gone.” The Shadowlands bartender had married Holt, one of the Masters, the last day of January. “She and Holt took February and the first week of March for their honeymoon. I think they get back this week.”
Frowning, Nolan looked around. “The place is still standing, at least.”
“The Masters aren’t essential; we just like to think we are.”
“True enough.” Nolan eyed the paddles in Ghost’s hand. “Your hand getting tired, Colonel?”
Ghost grinned. “Age must be catching up with me. You ready to take over?”
“My Beth would have a fit if I put some submissive over my lap.” Nolan’s smile said he didn’t have any problem with his woman’s possessiveness. “Your demonstration is popular tonight…even though spankings can easily be done at home.”
“Confused me, too, until a lady told me she wanted to see if she liked it before telling her husband. I guess after being married a decade, it’d be tough to say, ‘Hey, honey, could you spank me tonight?’ ”
Nolan rubbed his jaw. “Good point.”
“If they like the spanking, most head over to your flogging area.”
“Yeah? Then thanks for warming them up for me.” Laughing, Nolan headed back to his scene space.
Ghost took a final sip of water, tightened the lid, and tossed the bottle onto his toy bag. The paddles went onto a table stand.
After turning the SPANKINGS sign back around, he took a seat on the comfortable armless, leather chair.
Open for business.
His first takers were three women who’d waited for him to return. The first two got paddled. The third wanted his bare hand. She offered to drop her pants and pouted when he said no.
After he was done, she slipped her phone number into his pocket.
Jesus. She was young enough to have been his daughter if he’d ever had