Not long at all after Etchings.
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Gregori and Speed regarded each other across the room.
“Kid,” Gregori asked carefully, “are you sure?”
That wasn’t the question you were supposed to ask on Hell Night. You were supposed to ask “Are you mine?” as he’d done with Damaris, and when they said yes, then you moved on to the part where they yelled and hit you for a little while and you explained how things were going to go.
But the prey wasn’t supposed to proposition you. At least not so directly.
The kid rolled his eyes at Gregori. “This place is magic, yeah? There’s demons and fairies and werewolves, et cetera.”
He would have to do something about that attitude. Quash it, or nurture it, or bonsai it. “More or less. Fae of all sorts, yeah.”
“And there’s collars. Collars and BDSM, bondage toys and pain toys. I found that part of the Store. “
“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” He was a bit overwhelmed, but not surprised. “Yes. There’s d/s here.”
“Maybe magical d/s?”
“Maybe magical d/s,” he allowed. “For someone asking to wear my collar, kid, you’re not very submissive.”
“I’m not yours yet. I don’t bend my head to just anybody.”
“But you’re offering to bend it to me.”
“And you’re turning me down?”
“I’m trying to make sure you understand.”
“Sir, I understand that this is going to be d/s. I understand it’s maybe magical. I understand you’re more experienced than I am. That you will take me in hand and direct me, educate me.”
“Control me. Completely?” He didn’t look terrified. He looked turned on.
“Utterly. From now until the end of this school year, if you’ll be mine.”
The prey wasn’t supposed to smile as they walked into the trap. Gregori wasn’t entirely sure this was the catch it looked like. “Then I’m yours, master.”
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