Tempest (32 page)

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Authors: Shakir Rashaan

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Obssession

BOOK ONE OF THE
Kink, P.I.
SERIES

BY SHAKIR RASHAAN

COMING SOON FROM STREBOR BOOKS

ONE

Hate me or love me, I get results…

I'm damn good at what I do. Sure, I bent the rules a little bit, but what cop hasn't? But I was never…I repeat, never…dirty. You can ask any of my old partners, and they'll tell you that for a fact.

But when your childhood partner in crime comes calling and says the words
I got something I want you to run for me
, and then backs it up with capital to keep me happy and away from the P.D., you jump at it quick. That's what I did a year ago, and I haven't looked back since.

He and I go way back; in fact, we were damn near partners on the force together. That is, until he decided to start doing his photography thing, and we went our separate paths. I never held a grudge against him about it, though. The way I saw it, things have a funny way of working themselves out, and he always said he would find a way to get me out of the P.D. before he figured that he had to bury me.

Oh, by the way.

The name's Law…Dominic Law. But you can call me Dom. My now business partner Ramesses called me that when we were in high school and the nickname kinda stuck. But now, instead of Detective Law, you can call me by a different moniker now…

Private Investigator…so you can't tell me shit now.

Actually, it's more than that; I run the P.I. business, yes, but I'm also the head of Ramesses' security detail at the
Palace
and Neferterri's security detail at her club
Liquid Paradise
, so they keep me quite busy with everything that goes on.

But that's not all; thanks to Ramesses I got a lot of cases that the various P.D.s can't always deem high priority, especially when sometimes the cases aren't always “normal” by mainstream standards. After a while, I got the rep for being the “Kink Detective,” and sometimes I could be brought in on a consult for the unusual sex crimes around the ATL area.

Couple that with the fact that because of all these kink-related crimes, I found myself immersed deep inside the BDSM com-munity here in Atlanta, which was fine, because it wasn't like I wasn't already into the shit to begin with. I can thank Ramesses and Amenhotep for that. I honestly didn't think that I would want to be
that
deep, but when you see how women like Ramesses' girls and the slaves at the Palace treat a brother, it is very hard to resist learning how to get that same treatment.

Just to be clear, my boy has damn near converted me; my problem, as he saw it, is that I'm the new meat on the scene. Add that with the fact that I'm a heterosexual black man and my best friend (that is mentoring me, by the way) happens to be one of the power players in the Atlanta POC BDSM community, and the women on the scene drool over me because I was a cop at one point in time.

The problem, you ask?

Technically there is no problem, except an ex-wife that happens to be into the same thing that I, when we were married, could really never be a part of because of my occupation. I mean, come on, a cop in the Deep South trying to be discreet doing “kinky shit”?

It's not gonna happen; in fact, it's one of the “irreconcilable differences” we had when she filed for divorce. Now, not only am I a newbie in the community, but I have to occasionally run into her at munches or at the
Palace
when a larger community function is going on, and then hear her damn mouth about it after the fact. I'd dwell on this some more, but you couldn't probably care less. If you're like most Americans, you're simply going to lump me into that collection of oddballs that you think of as “the strange people.” I find it offensive to be lumped into the same group as Jehovah's Witnesses, and I'm sure they feel the same way about me, but go ahead; I'm used to it.

I'm one of the popular people at the local munch. Oh, yeah, that's right; you don't know the “strange person” jargon. A munch is short for a meet and lunch and that is the proper, and original, term for a gathering of people in the bondage, dominance and sadomasochism lifestyle. Take a minute to add leather to your mental label for me. Go ahead, I'll wait. You're wrong, though. Not everyone into BDSM, the lifestyle we call it, is a leather-clad freak. A lot of us, including Ramesses and Amenhotep, I'll grant you, but not all of us. Not me.

It's not like that won't stop Ramesses, though.

Look at me…sounding like Ramesses again.

Damn it.

Well, he's got me convinced now, but I had no intention of sounding like a damn tape recorder, either.

Munches vary in tone. It's all to do with the people involved.
The South Fulton munch is mostly well-educated and well-employed, so the only difference between one of our gatherings and a meeting of your local Kiwanis Club is…well, damned if I know.

The tone is set by the group leaders; in this particular munch it is Ramesses, Neferterri and Mistress Sinsual, generally the folks who have been around the longest. Mostly people dress casually, blue jeans, dresses, skirts and blouses, clean sneakers, and even the occasional suit.

I tell you this so you can understand why I wasn't surprised when peaches sat down across from me. Of course, peaches' not her real name. Let me rephrase that; peaches is her real name in the sense that it's the only one she'll answer to because it's the name her Master gave her. Don't worry about understanding every-thing, just keep up with Ramesses and me and let the otherness sort of wash over you… like a golden shower.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

When I thought about it, I was surprised to see peaches here, much less anywhere outside of
Inner Sanctum
, one of the local dungeons. The South Fulton munch was a place for people to socialize among other lifestylers and Lord Aris and his harem weren't really capable of getting outside the lifestyle. He thought it was a waste of time, except to collect more girls for his personal enjoyment. Ramesses and his mentor, Amenhotep, never could stand the guy. Hell, come to think of it, I hadn't run into anyone that really held any affinity for the man, except for the subs that were with him. But in the interest of keeping harmony in the community, most people tolerated him.

Not exactly what I would do if I know the man ain't worth two dead flies, but I digress.

Upon examining the situation further, I couldn't recall in my
limited experience ever seeing one of Aris' slaves at a gathering where he wasn't. Lord Aris was a controlling asshole, but women mistook his misogyny, control-freak attitude and lack of social skills for a commanding air of dominance, and they flocked to him like moths to a flame. He had to beat them off with a stick, which he loved. Hell, what man wouldn't?

I took another sip of the tea and waited. peaches wanted to talk to me, but the protocol that she's under prohibits her from speaking to a Dominant unless spoken to first. I should have respected that protocol as a courtesy to her Master, but I didn't. In case you haven't been paying attention, I don't much like Aris, and he'd been clear and vocal about his disdain for me because of my association with Ramesses, nothing more.

So fuck him, and fuck her.

I let her sit there and make eye contact with the table while I waited for her to decide which was more important: Aris' protocol or her need to talk to me. It was torture for her. Call it a sadistic side of me, but I enjoyed watching her squirm.

“May i speak, Sir?” she finally asked.

“Yes, you have permission to speak, slave,” I replied, following the proper etiquette that I had been learning from Ramesses.

“i can't find Master. i haven't seen Him in over a week and He's not returning my phone calls.”

I shrugged. Like I give a fuck, it's not my problem.

“Aris is not exactly known for letting his slaves down easily,” I pointed out. “Perhaps He's simply just incognito for a day or two?”

“No one has seen him for a week,” she amplified, a slight bit irritated at my indifference. “He was supposed to have a session with slave maia on Thursday and he didn't leave the key for her, Sir. I tried calling his work number and got the answering machine.
I know he's not your favorite person, and I understand if you do not want to, but can you find him for me, Sir? I know that you and Lord Ramesses are close, and he is an honorable Dominant, so I know that you are of honor as well.”

Damn. She pulled the card of my mentor out on me, which made the prospect of saying no even harder. Truth be told, I'm a softie when it comes to women who are in earnest need of help. Some habits never die; after all, I was a cop before. But now, I was a businessman, and a businessman gets paid for services rendered.

“slave peaches, the fee is one hundred dollars per hour, two-hour minimum, plus expenses which will amount to a least another hundred dollars. I don't promise any results.”

I almost put my prices up enough to put her off. The key word is almost.

“Lifestyle discount?” she asked tentatively.

“Mind your place, slave,” I roughly answered, trying to sound like I knew what I was saying. Truth is, I really wasn't sure if I was or not, but I didn't care if I was being contracted; she was not about to lose her protocol just because I decided to help.

“Please forgive me, Sir,” she sheepishly answered. She colored a little, embarrassed, and pulled some money out of her purse. She counted out three hundred dollars in neatly folded twenties and fifties and put them on the table. I counted them and put them away and then put my notebook and pen on the table in front of her.

“I'll need your Master's home address and a list of all the sub-missives he worked with, as well as submissives that are currently under his charge,” I instructed her. Normally, I'd have asked about enemies, but with Aris, we might be talking all week. Besides, this was typical Aris; I'd probably find out that he'd gone to Vegas
for a week or something like that, while he waited for the subs he'd chosen to get rid of to get the message.

“I'll need your home info,” I told her. “I'll send the contract to you there.”

“Could you go ahead and start looking today?” she asked. “Please, Sir?”

I considered making her beg. I'd enjoy that. She'd enjoy that. But this was a public munch. Discretion is the term that applies and Ramesses and Mistress Sinsual get very unhappy with people who make the vanillas squirm, and it's not a pretty sight. The only nice thing about being “in the know” is that you aren't actually an outcast. It's hard to find the kind of women I like in vanilla circles.

I texted Ramesses to keep from drawing too much attention to peaches; it was difficult enough as it was, considering that she was wearing a skirt just short enough to cover her ass and a halter top and sandals. Not conservative, but she was a youngster and she knew she could show off her body and no one would complain… at least except those of the straight female persuasion, that is.

He texted me back about a minute later, telling me that I had the afternoon to handle business, but I needed to do a quick check at the Palace before the night was out. That gave me a few hours to do some preliminary work.

I put my smartphone back in its holster and told peaches, “Sure. I'm not doing anything this afternoon. I can at least get some quick follow-up done. If I figure out anything, I'll let you know.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Known for his mind-twisting plots and unique prose, Shakir Rashaan rolled onto the literary scene as a contributing writer to
Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3
in 2012. His raw, vivid, and uncut writing style captured the attention of the Queen of Erotica herself, Zane. A year later, Rashaan made his debut with
The Awakening,
opening to rave reviews and a “recommended read” accolade in
USA Today
's Happy Ever After literary blog. The follow-up in the Nubian Underworld series,
Legacy
, has garnered even more success, with its third installment,
Tempest
, poised to burn up the pages, making the series one of the most unique in the erotica genre.

Upcoming projects from Rashaan include the upcoming
Kink, P.I.
series in 2015 and a few new projects being developed under the pen name, P.K. Rashaan. With his prolific writing prowess and openness on his social media platforms, Rashaan has plans to be a mainstay within the erotica genre and beyond.

Shakir is a Phoenix, earning his Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice/Communications from the University of Phoenix. He currently resides in suburban Atlanta with his wife and two children. You can see more of Rashaan at
http://www.ShakirRashaan.com
.

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/ShakirRashaan

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/Shakir.Rashaan

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