The Awakening (2 page)

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Authors: Shakir Rashaan

BOOK: The Awakening
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Now, I think I know what you might be thinking, but here's the real: this is a lifestyle. Everyone has a little freak in them, but the difference is we have found like-minded people who don't judge. They just enjoy themselves and the friendships that are made within the lifestyle community, and the freedom of being within that community.

Oh, I'm sorry, forgive my manners; I forgot to introduce myself. Depending on the community that you happen to meet us in, our names are separate within each world. If at a swingers' nightclub, you can call me Kane, and my wife's name is Mercedes. We have a few memberships at a couple of these clubs, but we don't attend them often, mainly because it's not really our style when it comes to swingers' clubs. Not that we don't enjoy ourselves there when we do go, but we have a different belief system than some of the “New Age” swinging couples that are out there. But that's another story
for another time. So, for the most part, you can refer to us by those names when we're within the vanilla world.

If at a dungeon or a BD/SM club or munch, then you may refer to me as Lord Ramesses, and my wife's name is Lady Neferterri. The girls that I mentioned earlier are nicknamed shamise, jamii, and nuru, and are our submissive girls within Our D/s “House,” which we have given the name of Kemet-Ka, roughly translated from the Egyptian meaning of “the essence of Egypt.” My wife and I consider ourselves that rare breed of “libertines” who enjoy the variously different aspects of the alternative lifestyle, as well as the people within each of them.

Now, I'm sure it may confuse some of you when you see us switch roles and names throughout, but it is a necessary evil, so to speak. You simply cannot use the same names because they don't always have the same meanings within each realm. After a while, you get used to it, and almost come to expect it. Such is the way of things.

Regardless of what you've read or seen on HBO, we are ordinary people. We go to work; some of us even own businesses. We pay taxes, and a lot of us are very spiritual people. We are in very stable relationships, even married for long periods of time. We raise families, and our children are very stable. The thing that separates us from “normal” people is we enjoy doing more than just two positions while making love.

Oh, and one more thing: we do this in the privacy of our homes, so it's none of your business what we do, unless we make it your business. But enough of me chatting; we're gonna be late.

1
RAMESSES

“Baby, we're going to be late for the party.” I heard my wife, Neferterri, calling from upstairs. “You know how Amenhotep is about beginning His ceremonies before we get there.”

I was in the basement of our house, loading up the bags we would need for our night at Master Amenhotep's estate. Tonight was special indeed as Amenhotep was inviting the community to witness the collaring ceremony of His newest slave, safi. She was the latest of the slaves who reside with Him in Palmetto on the south side of Atlanta.

“I'm almost done, babe. Have either of the girls gotten here yet?” I asked out loud.

“shamise is here with Me now, helping Me with My corset. jamii and nuru should be here any minute,” Neferterri replied.

It was almost ten o' clock, and usually our submissive girls are on time. Since it was a busy weekend in Atlanta and they were coming from different directions to the house, I decided not to punish them unless they made us extremely late. Amenhotep's estate wasn't far from where we resided in Fairburn, but I had to make sure we were set up in our designated area in the dungeon before the ceremony began at midnight. He could care less if anyone else was late, but I already knew Amenhotep would have a fit if He had to start without me.

I finished up the last of the bags when I heard all three girls coming down the stairs, assuming their kneeling positions at my feet. “we're here, my Sir. May we take the bags to the car?” nuru asked as her eyes lowered.

“Yes, you may, girls. shamise, let your Goddess know we will be leaving soon.” I kissed my girls on their foreheads as they each took a bag and headed back upstairs.

I took notice of each of the girls' attire, and I had to say, I couldn't have been a prouder Dominant as I took in their collective beauty.

shamise wore a strapless black corset, a gift from Neferterri and me last Christmas, and accentuated it with a wrap skirt draped slightly above her knees. I smiled at the way the skirt could be easily opened and available for access to do whatever I wanted. Knowing I had a fetish for heels, she didn't disappoint, but she took things a step further, wearing knee length, four-inch heeled boots. We named her shamise, which means “first born” in Arabic and Egyptian, because she's our “Alpha” submissive.

Her diamond collar was proudly adorned around her neck, displaying diamond handcuff earrings that dangled from her earlobes. To complete her look, she wore her hair up to expose her neck and show off her collar.

jamii wanted to be a bit more demure in her appearance than her sis, but surprised us in her choice to wear a miniskirt and a black leather halter top instead of hiding her legs with pants. She's not as much of an exhibitionist as our other two girls, usually choosing to wear a pant suit. She also decided on boots, wearing an ankle-length, four-inch stiletto style. We named her jamii, which means “sexy or sexually enticing” in Swahili, and she tried to live up to the meaning of her name tonight.

The slick smile on my face conveyed my appreciation of her new found confidence in her body and sexuality. The sharpness of her look was completed by her Chinese bob haircut, which showed off her own collar, presented to her in a private ceremony a little less than a year ago.

Finally, the “baby girl” of the House, nuru, wore a pleated school girl skirt, a halter top, too, and four-inch “Mary Jane” heels with bobby socks, putting her hair up in pigtails and sucking on a lollypop. Because of her bubbly and happy personality, we gave her the name nuru, which means “brightness, or light” in Swahili.

Now, I feel I have to explain to those that might not be in the “know,” so, indulge me for a quick moment. Alpha submissives within a Poly Household are usually the first to have been collared by their Dominant.
They are responsible, in some cases, to train the submissives that are collared after them, making sure that their submissive sisters know the rules of the House as well. Beta submissives…well, they are as the moniker suggests, the second submissive to be collared within the House.

Considering my Beloved and I currently have three girls right now, we usually treat them equally, as to not play favorites, but within a House of this size, there are those times when we will defer to shamise over the other girls because she's been with us the longest.

Forgive me for the quick lesson, but I didn't want to confuse anyone. Let's get back to the story, shall we?

For a minute, I forgot we needed to attend a collaring ceremony.

I watched my Beloved walk down the stairs. The look in her eyes was evidence she wanted me to get a good look at her outfit for the evening.

“So, do You like, My Pharaoh?” Neferterri asked while doing a model's twirl in her strapless corset, complete with a ruffled petticoat skirt, which showed off my wife's “ASSets” quite well.

I shook my head. I counted myself lucky to have such beautiful women in my life, including my daughters. Our oldest was thirteen, our middle child was eleven, and our youngest was eight. To be surrounded by such beauty, as the pharaohs of the Ancient Kingdom had done so long ago, was a sight to behold.

“Your Pharaoh likes this outfit very much, baby,” I said, no longer resisting the urge to rub my hands over her hips and kiss my beautiful wife. “You look good enough to eat…damn.”

Neferterri playfully slapped at my hands, putting up a small fight, finally giving in to the kisses being placed on her neck and shoulders. I started to lift the skirt to get a better grasp of her ass and try to take things to the next level for a quickie, but shamise unintentionally interrupted us while coming to retrieve the last of the toy bags.

“Oops, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt You.” shamise blushed over seeing her Dominants in an intimate moment. It wasn't the first time she'd caught us in a compromising position, and under normal circumstances, she would have quietly watched until we were finished. However, she knew if she did this time around, we'd all be in some serious trouble. “Daddy, You said we were going to be late if we didn't get going now. We don't want to keep Master Amenhotep waiting.”

She was right. The last thing I needed was to be reprimanded by my mentor. He was a stickler for starting grand events on time. So, we grudgingly headed upstairs to finish packing the cars to head down to our destination.

Amenhotep's estate,
The Palace,
was an extravagant fifteen-bedroom home He'd purchased from a former CEO of a Fortune 500 company. The house had it all, complete with a front driveway that stretched out a half mile from the main road, 300 acres
of land for ultimate privacy, especially with the things that went on outside of the house, a spacious basement which housed a twenty-seat projection room among the other amenities in the dungeon, and a 300,000-gallon pool to boot. For a man who had nine slave girls, and was about to collar a tenth, that's still a lot of house to deal with. But Amenhotep didn't worry about such things. He had ten male service slaves who were sent out by their owners to tend to the estate on a weekly basis, and three of his slave girls were designated service slaves as well.

It was a lot larger than the four-bedroom, three-car garage home with basement Neferterri and I owned, but hey, we all had to start somewhere, right?

As we drove up to the front door, I noticed the way the lighting was set up for the special occasion: the “House” colors of Crimson and Black were on proud display, and could be seen from the specialized lighting surrounding the house before we even had a chance to turn into the driveway. The service “bois” were outside, as usual, parking the cars in the designated area as the guests arrived, with certain spots being held for
special
attendees, to mark their status within the community. These were usually the out-of-state guests who have national and international status within the BDSM community, as there would be some who were able to fly in for tonight's occasion. You would have thought a few dignitaries were in attendance tonight as well, as we saw the fleet of different limousines that were also parked in their area as well.

Neferterri and I had the same thought: this latest one must be something special for all of this to occur. But then again, knowing Amenhotep, it's always difficult to tell, as He was, Himself, nationally known and respected.

We were greeted at the front door by paka, Amenhotep's Alpha
slave. She wore a black cigarette girl's outfit and four-inch heels. We all knew the rest of the girls would be specially outfitted tonight, and saw one of the other girls dressed in a see-through cat suit as proof. A new slave would be accepted among them, and it would be done in grand fashion, as each one of them had been acquired before her.

“Good evening, m'Lord, m'Lady. My Master has been expecting You.” paka bowed her head as she spoke, in show of respect. “May this girl relieve You of Your submissives so they may prepare Your area and Your room?”

Neferterri answered, “Yes, you may, paka. They know what they need to do.”

paka nodded as she led jamii and nuru to the dungeon area in the basement, while the other of the slave girls, jazi, led shamise up to the bedroom to unload the baggage.

“paka looks radiant tonight, don't You think?” Neferterri asked me as paka disappeared with our girls.

“You know she made sure she outshined the other girls, baby,” I remarked, noticing the extra sway in paka's hips as she walked away from us. “You should know that everyone in the house knows where she stands, regardless of whose night it is.”

“Well, I guess we need to find out who is in attendance, and where they all are,” Neferterri commented, leading the way, grinning as she noticed the way I always enjoyed the view while following her.

We walked through the main foyer, passing by the other guest bedrooms on the main floor, noticing the new changes to the walls, including the paintings hung since our last visit a month ago. We dropped by the dining area to pick up some hors d'oeuvres, noticing the other slave girls going about their business during a function
such as this one, catering to the VIP guests, making sure wineglasses were kept full. I took notice of the risqué outfits the girls wore, and a mischievous grin spread across my lips. Having witnessed each of their collaring ceremonies, I knew what each of them was capable of doing behind closed doors.

Well, not exactly
closed
doors.

My Beloved slapped my forearm, shaking me out of my lustful thoughts. I grabbed my arm in mock protest, glaring at her as I felt the sting rushing through my arm. She didn't flinch an inch. “You better be glad I love You, or I would have smacked that grin off Your face.”

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