At that Savannah glared at me from beneath her maid's bonnet and tossed her antique featherduster down. She stomped loudly over towards the center of the room, rattling with each step, and stopped straight in front of me. Even with her platforms, I still towered over her, which ruined whatever effect she'd been aiming for.
She glared up at me, silent beneath her mask; then imperiouslyand it's quite a trick to do that wearing a fetish maid's outfit-she held up her two black-mitted hands like a surgeon. Without a word 'the Lady Darkrose' and the dog-boy got up. Darkrose's boots clacked against the floor; the dog-boy was silent except for the rattling of his leash chain. They stepped to either side of Savannah and quickly unlaced the white lacings on her mitts; then, when she snapped her freed fingers, the dog-boy began unlacing the mask from the back. Within a few moments, he was peeling it off Savannah, and I could briefly see her long, sharp canines release the chewed black ballgag, glistening with saliva, that had kept her silent.
That didn't last for long.
'Ptheh,' Savannah said, wiping her mouth. 'Why the hell are you here, Dakota? And it's the Lady Saffron now. Our receptionist should have explained that we were busy-'
'Whatever happened to you as 'the vampire queen of Little Five Points'?' I asked.
'I still am,' Savannah said, sulkily, turning away, eyes flicking sideways to the black dominatrix figure before strolling back to the throne, the chain between her thighs continuing to rattle with each step. 'This is the Lady Darkrose, who came here from Africa to contest the appointment of such a junior vampire to this post-'
'So you folded?' I said. 'You let her move in and take over-'
'Move in, yes, but take over, no. I am still the Lady Saffron,' Savannah said, seating herself in the throne straightly, stiffly, as if she was afraid she'd sit on a tack. 'And this is my domain. Make no mistake-I am queen of the vampires in the Little Five Points district.'
She snapped her fingers, and both the Lady Darkrose and the dog-boy knelt by the side of her 'throne' and stared at the floor. I stared at Darkrose; the black dominatrix' face was controlled-no, composed. Her eyes flicked up at me, and I arched an eyebrow, as if to say, is this for rea? Darkrose briefly nodded; then looked back down. I saw no resentment… in fact, she seemed completely comfortable in her role.
'Then what the hell is this show?' I asked.
'I am the queen of the vampires in Little Five Points,' she said, 'and if I want to be the bondage queen in my own court, then I shall have it.'
I touched my hand to my forehead. 'Darkrose is your domme,' I said.
'That she is,' 'Saffron' said, smiling down at her. 'And my second in command.'
'Both roles I am happy to play, my Lady Saffron,' Darkrose said, staring at the floor, still perfectly composed. Clearly she had some BDSM training beyond just picking out her wardrobe, as she was as comfortable kneeling on the floor as she had been on the throne.
'Sorry,' I said at last. I felt so stupid. They'd warned me to expect a show in the outer office, and I still came in here and took everything so damn seriously. 'I am such an idiot.'
'That you are,' Savannah said, still smiling.
'Who's the lucky dog?' I asked.
'Ah, Doug,' she said, patting his head. 'Friend of a friend. I'm training Doug for a show. But you know all about training, don't you, Dakota?'
I said nothing.
There was a long pause, and Savannah just seemed to look at me, drinking me in. Finally, she leaned forward in her chair, clanking a bit as she did so, still smiling with the slightest wince. 'Now. Tell me why you're here.'
'I need some help,' I admitted. 'I'm doing a new kind of magical tattoo-'
'I cannot believe you still do that… Satanist stuff,' Savannah said.
Oh, Lord, not this again. 'Excuse me, the lesbian bondage queen is going to lecture me about Satanic?'
'There's nothing Satanic about bondage-'
'There's nothing wrong with bondage,' I said, 'but when you play the Satanist card you also get fifty million Bible passages asking God to deliver people from-wait for it-bondage.'
'Please,' Savannah snapped, 'The terms aren't analogous and you know it. Magical tattooing, on the other hand, is derived in an unbroken chain from ancient religious ritual bloodletting-'
'Excuse me, vampire bondage queen?'
'I'm primarily a vegetarian,' Savannah said. 'I only drink what I have to survive-'
'Great. But I don't care. I'm not here to debate with you, Savannah' I said.
At the second use of her real name, the tall black vampire and the dog-collared submissive both twitched. Savannah's hands tightened on her throne, and after a moment Darkrose sighed, stood up and walked out. Doug the Dog flinched, but he was leashed to the throne, and Savannah made no move to free him.
At no time did the crosses on the wall even so much as shimmer, not even when Darkrose passed them. Normally when a vampire expressed ill will or anger or even got a little cross-ha-in front of a crucifix, it would flare up like magnesium. Even the religious tats on my knuckles tingled sometimes when I faced a pissed-off vampire. But despite Savannah's scowl-I got nothing. No flares, no tingles, no sign she bore me any ill will.
Interesting.
'Your self-control is extraordinary,' I said.
'I have help,' Savannah replied. 'You're not helping, but I have help.'
I scowled at her. I knew exactly what she meant-she was saying she was drawing on her Christian faith, on Jesus, to help her handle her hour of trial-me. The whole idea of hearing this from a lesbian vampire in a fetish bondage outfit continued to leave me speechless, and Savannah took the opportunity to deliver a lecture that I'd heard before.
'Dakota. I am a vampire now,' she said. 'I have entered a whole new world, with rules and customs that have evolved over the centuries to keep us civil. Here, we leave our human names behind to protect our loved ones. In this world, I am the Lady Saffron. You are not to use my human name in front of a fellow vampire-'
'And what name do you still write on your scientific papers?' I asked.
After a moment, Savannah replied, 'Savannah Winters.'
'And what's wrong with that?' I asked. 'It's a beautiful name. I loved your name. You could have been Lady Savannah-'
'It was taken,' Savannah said, a little piqued. She looked at me, hurt maybe. 'You think I didn't try?'
'Not very hard.' I said. I was starting to wonder what I had seen in her. 'Just like you didn't try very hard to stay human after I begged you not to become a vampire.'
The side door opened, and the Lady Darkrose appeared, having donned a long, shimmering transparent coat and acquired a small, boxy purse.
'Excuse me,' she said-speaking directly to me, oddly subdued. Then she leaned in to kiss Savannah's cheek, and said softly, 'I am stepping out.'
'Oh please don't,' Savannah said, oddly pleading. 'We never have time to play anymore. Dakota and I will be done in a minute-'
'You two will be arguing for an hour,' Darkrose said, in her odd accent. 'I am just going clubbing. And it is not like I am leaving you to your own devices.'
'Aw, c'mon,' Savannah said, very quietly.
'You're not leaving us like this, are you?' Doug asked, whining through his mask. His leg shifted, at which point I noticed that the metal codpiece of his shorts was actually a cage, hiding nothing-at which point I immediately looked away, turning quite red.
'Please, Brer Rabbit, don't throw me in the briar patch,' Darkrose responded, touching Savannah's glorious red hair tenderly. Then, impulsively, she leaned down and kissed her.
Two lesbians kissing for real is nothing like you see in porno. It's nothing showy, no flicking tongues or exaggerated heavy breathing. It's simple and pure and as natural as any man kissing a woman: a moment of attraction, a moment of vulnerability, a moment of pure tenderness as lips press against lips and eyes close with bliss.
I turned away. Savannah had found someone, and I was watching my more than adequate replacement. That stung like a son of a bitch.
I heard the clacking boots again, and shifted to look at Darkrose as she approached. She was tall for a woman, easily six-one counting the boots, which left her over an inch shorter than me not counting my boots. And,
