Page 59 of There’s a Way (Mythic Beast #2)

Two Months Later

Will

It was my fault. I’d been busy working on the business end of putting out new music and hadn’t given Davy anywhere near enough time.

There was so much to do, organizing things so I could be gone for our extended honeymoon, dealing with all the legal stuff around new music and new videos, making sure new material would go live on every freaking platform at the same time when the first of it released in a few weeks, and those are just the highlights.

Davy knew what I was dealing with and he hadn’t complained, and yet, he was clearly feeling the lack of attention.

It wasn’t that he was being bad . He’d done nothing to warrant a punishment, but looking through his workout numbers, I saw a slave who was doing the bare minimum.

I saw the same when I looked at the bed.

He’d made it up as required, but it felt like he was just treading water.

His heart wasn’t in it. The special touches were gone.

I considered sitting him down and talking to him about it. Logically, it was the best plan. I’d neglected him, he’d neglected me. We just had to stop doing those things, right?

But my instincts told me talk is cheap and I should just fucking fix it.

Micca was working long hours somewhere far far away, and it was clear on her brief phone and video calls, she wasn’t getting much sleep.

I had no idea what she was working on, but it seemed to be really getting to her, whatever it was.

Mostly, we talked over video while she ate, which assured me she was okay.

Not great — stressed and exhausted — but otherwise fine.

So, it was up to me to straighten our boy out. He wanted my attention? It was time to give it to him. We were two weeks from the wedding, so ten to twelve days of boot camp should do it. It was Friday, so after we ate dinner that evening, it was time to start.

Davy thrives on routines and repetitions, so I started him off with a toothbrush and Comet, cleaning the grout in all the bathrooms.

And then I went to bed, giving him a time limit so he’d be pushed to finish in time. Stress and physical exhaustion were an excellent way to start.

A spanking was followed by a caning the next morning before I fucked his ass and drained my balls. He’d gone back in his cock cage the week before, so no orgasm for the slave.

Micca and I had looked on a calendar and made it so he’d be out of his cage for the wedding and the beginning of our honeymoon.

We’d ended up with a three-week schedule to make it happen.

The rules were that he’s in it for his schedule no matter what happens, in for three weeks and out for three weeks.

He doesn’t know we changed it around a few months ago, from two weeks to three weeks, so he’d be out for the wedding.

I put the electro-plug in him along with a few electro-pads on his balls, and then we went to see how well he’d cleaned the bathrooms.

He’d done a decent job, but there were a few places I wanted him to redo, and I hit him with a five-second TENS pulse every thirty seconds he worked on them. He yelped and carried on while the juice was on, but he didn’t slow with the toothbrush.

Later, we went for a run on Stringer’s Ridge. He’s fine running with the cock cage so long as he wears runner’s shorts under regular shorts. The tight, stretchy fabric keeps the cage from bouncing up and down, and the gym shorts keep people from seeing the outline of the cage on his cock.

A seven-mile run with our guards, a quick shower and change of clothes, a fancy brunch, and then I trussed him up, sitting at a writing desk with a huge plug in, bound to the chair so he couldn’t move around a whole lot, and gave him a writing assignment.

“Turn the paper over to read the instructions once I’m gone.”

Pen and paper, tell me what you want to have in your slave vows to us.

Two responses. The first, what would they be if it was just the three of us with no witnesses.

The second, what do you want to say in front of the wedding guests.

You know the rules — make sure all words are spelled correctly and your grammar is correct.

Rough draft and final copy. Use the dictionary.

Untie yourself and push the button in the jail cell when you finish, and then assume the position on the bed until I arrive.

I may or may not include his wishes in the vows he would give, but I wanted to see his ideas in black and white.

I’d discovered that having him write lines is an excellent punishment.

He’d had to write three hundred lines a day, every day, back when Micca first came to us, when we were still dealing with him keeping his grandfather’s letter from me.

I’d reduced it to a hundred lines a day when he’d gone back to work, but back up to three hundred on the weekends.

When we’d gone on trips, he’d been able to do extra in the days leading up to it, but he still had to keep the average at the correct level.

I’d kept it up for nearly three months before I’d let him stop.

Twice since then, he’s had to write hundreds per day — enough it averaged around two and a half hours a day when he wasn’t working, and an hour on the days he worked — for a month or two when I thought he needed a reminder of how important he is to us, or a reminder of a particular rule.

We sometimes include them as part of his boot-camp days, but I really prefer the essay type assignments for those.

I used the app on my phone to look in on him when I got to my office two floors above him.

He was busy writing, totally absorbed, so I settled in to get some work done, reading through contracts as well as scrutinizing what my attorney had written about what should be further negotiated.

Mitch had made some notes as well, and I also included those in my final analysis.

Hours later, when Davy rang the bell in the jail cell, I spent about fifteen minutes finishing up and saving my work, and then I made my way down to belt and fuck my boy before we shared a meal and then I sent him off on his next project — washing every car we owned while wearing a heavy plug and a ball separator.

He’d have to be dressed while outside, but there’d be no forgetting the fact he’s a sex slave to a sadist who loves him more than words can say.

* * * *

Micca

Drake Security had been called in when a billionaire’s daughter had been kidnapped.

There was a one-hundred-million-dollar ransom for her, and I was traveling with my mobile lab, collecting forensics from her bedroom on Long Island, and her car, to get an idea about parts of her life her parents might not know about.

I also gathered evidence from the place a few towns over where she’d been abducted, and then later, once our geeks had researched to find the places we knew her abductors had been earlier in the day and week.

I felt like I knew the sixteen-year-old.

Ballet dancer with strong gymnastic skills, excellent student, skilled equestrian who loves her horse, and by all accounts, a kind person.

There were no selfies with just her. All of her selfies were ones of her and her friends, or her and her horse.

She was beautiful, and she clearly understood how to use makeup to fit into society as expected, but it wasn’t her focus.

When I’d exhausted every idea I had in my mobile lab, I sat down with the techs going over the video and audio of the teen telling her dad her captors’ ransom demands.

We had it narrowed down to an eight-block area of New York City, but there are a whole lot of people in that amount of real estate. We had to be able to narrow it down more.

The handoff for the money was supposed to happen Saturday afternoon in a park. A million in cash and the rest in Monero, a cryptocurrency that’s impossible to trace. They’d given the dad a few days to move money into Monero so he could transfer it to them.

Late Friday night, with nothing else to do in the lab, I decided to play around with the audio on my own, using headphones, just putting filters on at random, and I heard something I hadn’t heard before.

I brought our main sound guy over. He’s a dolphin shifter and only works as a consultant, but his hearing is above and beyond anyone else’s.

He nodded when he heard it, and got to work on his keyboard.

Less than an hour later, we knew where she was, and ninety minutes later, I listened in as our top-tier team went in to rescue her.

We had a medical team in our mobile med-van, and she was taken straight to them.

Her dad’s security team had him a few miles away, and Aaron made the decision to have the van driven to him, rather than risk getting him out and about.

Somehow, I ended up in the van, talking to her and calming her down, assuring her she’d see her dad and brother soon while the doctor and nurse got an IV started and worked on all the bruises and abrasions she’d gotten from being bound to various beds and chairs.

The nurse sat in front of her and asked as gently as possible if she’d been sexually assaulted, and the girl put her head down and didn’t answer.

Fuck .

The doctor rolled his eyes. She couldn’t see him, but it still bugged me, so I told her.

“Whatever happened isn’t your fault. They’re the bad guys.

You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing to deserve whatever happened.

It’s important we know what happened though.

Maybe you need some antibiotics specific to what happened, so you don’t have long-term effects from whatever it was.

First though, did they do anything that you need help with right away? Something that hurts?”

She shrugged, and the nurse took over, clearly knowing more of what to say than I did.

Four hours later, she and her dad were in their Long Island home with lots of medical types around them, since he could pay for the doctors and nurses to come to them, rather than taking her to the hospital. Also, lots of security, of course.

When I was finally back on a plane headed towards home, I asked Nathan, “Can I tell my guys a rich guy’s daughter was kidnapped, and I was part of the team that found her?”

He shook his head. “No genders, no ages, no rich guy, no locations. You were part of a team that found a kidnapping victim.” He leaned back. “And I know you found the sound of the bus stopping and starting, the last piece we needed to triangulate an exact location.”

“I was just randomly adding filters, hoping they made something pop. I got lucky.”

“We often need to be both lucky and good. You got us close with your lab work, and that’s just solid good work. I’m glad you got lucky with the audio. How are the wedding plans coming?”

I smiled. “I mean, once I decided on everything I want and don’t want, the wedding planner and the lodge are making it all happen.

Matty is sending me updates, because he keeps checking in with them to make sure they’re on schedule.

There really isn’t much more for me to do until we get closer.

I have my dress, know how I want my hair.

As long as the weather cooperates, it’ll be perfect. ”

“It’ll be perfect even if it rains or storms. Kirsten tells me Dawg is invited?”

I rolled my eyes. “I hadn’t considered inviting him, but when Davy was figuring out which of the bikers needed an invitation, Dawg made a point of telling him he’d like to go.

I guess the two of them work together on the two full-moon nights Dawg doesn’t run, when Davy helps out in the restaurant.

There was never anything truly romantic between us. Just sex and friendship.”

“I know. Dawg was kind of the same for Kirsten, for a while. He’s good at keeping it to just friendly no-strings sex, it seems.”

Speaking of feelings and emotions, I told him, “I let myself get too emotionally involved with this one. Going through her bedroom, her car, talking to her dad and brother. It was a lot.”

“It’s particularly hard when it’s a kid, especially such a good kid with so much life ahead of her. If I’d known they’d gang-raped her, I’d have ripped their dicks off before I killed them.”

“She saw their faces. They never intended to return her to her dad.”

He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons I’m still here, doing this job. We’ve put a team together that can truly make a difference. That girl is alive because of our team. I’m not sure a wholly human team could’ve pulled it off, no matter the tech.”

Will and Davy were in the back of a limo waiting on me at the private hangar the Drake airplane flies into. I wasn’t paying attention, but when Panda opened the airplane door, he asked, “Anyone expecting a limo?”

“That’s Micca’s men,” Nathan said.

I shook my head, grabbed my roll-on and backpack, and left the plane without commenting. Will and Davy were out of the limo by the time I walked to them, and I told them, “My car’s at work. It isn’t like I can ride back with ya’ll.”

“Mac drove your car home about an hour ago when he came on shift,” Will said. “It’s a Drake vehicle, and Mac’s a Drake employee.”

I nodded. I was exhausted, and that worked. “Thank you.” I climbed inside and saw that he’d reconfigured the seats to make a bed, and I climbed between the sheets.

“You have to know there’s a danger I’ll fall asleep on the way.”

Will joined me on the bed, holding me, and told me, “Davy’s going to give you a foot rub. What can you tell us?”

I sighed. “Kidnapping victim. It was bad, but the person is back with their family because of us. Not in great shape, but alive.”

“I’m so happy you got them back,” Davy said. “How much have you slept?”

“Naps here and there. Not a full night’s sleep.

I really need to stay awake until we get home, and then maybe I should go to a guest bedroom?

I think I’ll sleep twelve or fourteen hours, once I’m down.

” Davy’s fingers are magic. He can give several kinds of foot rubs, and this one felt good, and was relaxing, but it wasn’t going to put me to sleep.

“Have you eaten?” Will asked.

I nodded. “We had food on the plane. I ate four burgers and a plate full of fries.”

They kept me talking until we got home, and then I fell into bed and crashed. Will insisted I sleep in our bed, and promised not to wake me when they came to bed later.