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    Natalie gazed up at him in surprise but she didn't object.

    Few people knew of Ana Argentine's life as a psychologist by day and Dungeon Mistress at night. Alain was one. Natalie another. It would have only been natural for Natalie to seek out her former lover when she was finally freed from Perry Livingston. Her resistance to do that had obviously cost Natalie her peace of mind for many months. Why was that? Fear, perhaps. Regret that she had turned her desires to another dominant? Maybe. But these weren't questions for Alain to answer.

    He waited with the woman until her Domme arrived. He would give her over to the best person he knew to handle Natalie's current angst.

Forty-five minutes after his call, an anxious Ana Argentine arrived at the Hotel Roxy. The woman hardly needed to be told what to do.

    "I was afraid of this," Ana told her friend.

    "But she'll be fine?"

    "Of course she will be," the woman smiled dismissively, giving him a perfunctory hug. "Now you can go back to that sweet thing you have waiting for you at home."

    He snickered, but said nothing as he waved her off and moved to the door.

    "Please, sir," Natalie called him back, "I do have something I need to tell you…about Perry Livingston."

    She was sitting on the bed now, calm, composed, huddled inside her coat. It had been a good scene for them both, he thought as he observed her, and yet her brows were knit with worry.

    "And what's that, Natalie?"

    "Twice, when I was his captive, Perry took me to the Fetish Masquerade in the city."

    "Really? I thought you were constantly locked up."

    "I was. Except those two times. The first time, I was gagged and shackled like a slave. There was no way I could run. Obviously, it didn't look strange in that crowd."

    "And the second time?"

    "The last year I was with him. We were dressed like Napoleon and Marie Antoinette. It was seven years into my captivity and I didn't even think of leaving. In fact, that night might have been the best night of my life. I never had so much
fun
…and no one ever knew." She smiled. "Perry was my life. I would never have thought of escape."

    "So, you believe that Perry might bring Kat to the Masquerade Ball?"

    "I have no idea. But with Perry, just about anything is possible. As much as he likes his seclusion, he occasionally likes an audience. He likes to think he's gotten away with his petty crimes."

    "I see. Well, thank you, Miss Moon." He gave the shabby scene one last look and then directed his last comment at Ana. "You will take care of her."

    "Certainly, Alain. It will be my pleasure." She couldn't say it with a straight face and as he left the Roxy he had to wonder how their relationship would play out.

***

It was after midnight when Alain returned home. He rather hoped he'd find Meredith awake, although when he scouted out the downstairs, he found it empty. He moved upstairs and found that his sub had retreated to the small maid's room and she'd been reading in bed. Her book was still open, but she'd fallen asleep and her head was resting against the pillows behind her, her gleaming brunette hair spread out across the white pillowcase.

    He smiled then turned to leave, but the floor beneath him creaked.

    "Sir, you're home!" Meredith popped up a second later.

    "Yes, yes, I'm home." He moved back through the door and sat down on the bed.

    "I was starting to worry."

    "I said I'd be back. By now you should understand the life of a Police Captain is filled with interruptions."

    "I do but I was still concerned. Did you eat anything?"

    "I'm going to grab a sandwich in a minute."

    "No, please, I'll fix you something." She tried to rise but he pushed her back down.

    "You stay right here. I have a few things we need to cover first."

    "Oh?" She was easily worried and it showed on her face. "Did I do something wrong? I did clean up the kitchen."

    "I'm sure it's done well. But this isn't about the kitchen, it's about my evening."

    What happened between he and Natalie Moon was not any business of Meredith Shaw's, from either a professional or a master's point of view. But he didn't feel that it could be ignored with this submissive woman. She'd become more to him than the average, runof-the-mill submissive, and he suspected his own maturity had a role in that. Relationships at his age were different than they were when he was younger, including this very pleasurable one with Meredith Shaw.

    "Your evening—?" she looked suspiciously like she already knew what happened, even though she couldn't have.

    "I was drawn into an S&M scene by a woman I formerly spent time with – long before you. She manipulated me into seeing her. When I found her, she was handcuffed and tethered to the ceiling of a hotel room. She'd done it herself as an invitation for me beat her. I suppose that asking me directly hadn't crossed her mind."

    "Oh my. But of course you didn't beat her, did you?"

    "Yes, I did beat her. I was furious to find myself tricked. But I concluded, whether rightly or wrongly, that she needed the pain of a hard scene. So that's what I gave her. I doubt she got from me what she'd been fantasizing about. She got what I was willing and able to offer, and I wasn't particularly kind. In fact, I wasn't kind at all. But her masochistic trigger kicked in just fine and whatever was pent-up in her began to release." Alain could see his sub's expression change from anxious to worried to nearly panicked. "Yes, she climaxed, and no, I did not. Intercourse was out of the question. Any kind of sex was out of the question."

    At this news, she seemed to ease.

    "Some Masters would not even think of telling their submissive about this kind of scene, but I do have my point."

    Meredith gazed up at him so open, so vulnerable, so on fringe of falling completely apart that he knew he needed to step carefully. At the same time, he had to be direct and candid.

    "My point is: don't, ever, lie to me or manipulate me, Meredith. If you want something, ask. If I deny you, well, you'll deal with it. But the surest way to bring on my anger, and that is not a pretty thing, is to attempt to manipulate me. You understand that?"

    "Yes, yes I do!"

    "I'm not sure that you do. I have a sadistic streak beyond anything you've ever seen. As much as you may be a masochist, you won't want to bring that sadist out in me."

    "I won't. I promise I won't," she assured him in one breath, only to rush on anxiously. "So what becomes of the woman? Are you going to see her again?"

    "No, I will not see her again. Her story is a long one and I won't betray her confidence, but I have a friend I know who can help her. She's with her now."

    She was still troubled, still struggling to understand.

    "What is it, Meredith?" he asked.

    "I'd thought you'd said tonight was about a case?"

    "I did. I thought it was. But not every call I get is on the up and up. I'm telling you this to ease your mind. Don't make something out of this that's not there."

    "I do that sometimes."

    "I'm sure it comes from having such a rabid imagination."

    She looked a bit chagrinned.

    Alain found her so open, so vulnerable, so sexual. He hadn't planned on anything that had happened all night, and he hadn't planned on sex once he finally got home. He was tired. Hungry. He needed some space, some peace, some rest away from women in general, not just conniving ones. But seeing her lovely face still filled with bewilderment and fear, he couldn't stop himself from touching her. First her face, then her neck, his hand skimming her body downward, feeling the softness of her breasts, sensing her pulse begin to rise.

    He drew her to him and kissed her aggressively on the mouth. She gave back without hesitation, and drawn into her aura, he pulled up with her on the bed, letting her strip away his clothes, while he pulled her nightshirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. He mounted her, entered her, fucked her hard, until they were both crying out, grasping for one another as if it were the last fuck they'd ever have.

    When it was over, he moved to his feet, grabbed his clothes from the floor and called to her as he left the room.

    "Come with me, Meri. My bed's a whole lot bigger than yours. We both could use a long night's sleep."

***

"You do remember what's Saturday night, the end of October?" Meredith's cheery voice greeted him as she bounded into his office Monday morning. It was the first Monday morning that they'd awakened in the same bed, and she was especially happy to have finally reached this milestone.

    Of course, they went their separate ways as soon as they left the house and arrived at work minutes apart to avert any suspicions about their budding relationship.

    Alain looked up from his stack of files, nonplussed. "What?" he searched his mind for an answer. "Something having to do with Halloween, I suppose?"

    "Of course, the Fetish Masquerade. We are going, aren't we?"

    He peered at her over the top of his reading glasses. "No, we're not going. I have other plans," he spoke coolly.

    Her bright face immediately darkened. "But, sir, I thought certainly you wouldn't want to miss the event…"

    "Well, you thought wrong, Meredith. I have plans, I'll be working on an investigation that night."

    "But the costumes I planned…"

    "You planned costumes?"

    "Yes, of course."

    "Well, they'll have to wait for another time."

    "But there is…"

    "Meredith!"

    "Oh, damn! I'd hate to go without you," she fumed.

    "Well, that's good because you'll be sitting out the Fetish Masquerade this year."

    She looked back in horror. "No. You don't mean that. I always go!"

    "Not this time. You won't go unless you're with me, and I have other plans that evening. It's work and it's important. Now, you'd better get back to yours."

    She closed her eyes, bit her lip so it really hurt, then with tears stinging her eyes, she turned and walked out.

S
CENE
S
IXTEEN

Though a foul Halloween outside, the kind written of in storybooks and bizarre tales of witchery, the Halloween inside was teaming with goblins and ghouls, Knights of the Round Table, King Arthur and his queen, Henry the 8 and his eight wives, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Aragorn and Arwen, kijira slave girls and Gorean masters…all in fetish wear. No expense was spared on collars, cuffs, slave chains, leashes and imaginative masks to disguise the identity of the wearers. This was, after all, an anonymous night when the bdsm scene in the city came out to party anonymously. Slaves were bought and sold, bartered, traded, abused, even fucked by permission from the owner, then returned to their randy masters, only to be put back on the auction block for more. Masters reveled in a night of shrewd scheming and devious plans to obtain the treasured piece of flesh they desired, even if it was only for one reckless night of frivolity.

    Designed to be unwholesome and immoral fun, the Fetish Masquerade could simply not be missed by anyone with a healthy kinky streak. That is why Meredith could not stay away, why without the knowledge of her 'stuck in the mud' master, she snuck away from her apartment dressed as a slutty Snow White and met with her friend the Wicked Witch. After all, they'd be masked all night. Who would know? Who would tell? Who would even know to report her to Alain, since their relationship was still a deep, dark secret. Alain Danvers would be far far away and Halloween night simply could not go on without at least a peek at the kinky goings-on in Edmund Thorsby's palatial mansion…ahem…spook house.

    Even through the foggy, mist-filled night, the house glowed, maybe more eerily so because of that ghostly fog. Just gazing at it from outside Meredith chilled, not only because it was the prefect night for a Masquerade Ball, but because she was being very naughty, deliberately bad, and the thrill of that had her heart racing so fast that she could barely catch her breath.