Before the worlds, the heavens and the stars, before time itself began, the Great Hourglass of All that is, and All that ever would be came into being. The All gave a sigh as the world came to order, and in doing so blew some of the sand, the magically designed and created sand, away from the mouth of the hourglass and onto the floor. The grains of sand were the only beings aside from the All to witness the birth of time, a momentous event that sparked the worlds into being. Being so close to the flash of magic, the sands became sentient and swirled out onto one of those worlds to escape the Hourglass. The All went after them to sweep them back into the glass, but their leader, the one who had been closest to the blast of magic and therefore the strongest, argued for their freedom. The All finally agreed to give them the chance to prove their existence as something new, a design not part of the original pattern. Ten millenia of jikan they were given, with very specific rules, the main ones having to do with not interfering in the evolution of the planet’s denizens. Then the All made one slight modification. They were charged to interfere not in their evolution, but they could, and indeed, must, aid those that came across their paths. They agreed. What else were they to do? Deny the All and be swept into the Great Hourglass, there to reside until the end of Time itself when the last grain of sand would slide down to rest with the others? No, not when they had tasted freedom. They would do what they must, and aid their own evolution. Born of magic and exposed to the creation blast, they knew not what manner of creatures they were to be, that would come with time. For now, they were still just grains of sand.

Five millenia have passed, half their time allowed, and the sands had grown with the world, given themselves names, and evolved based on where they decided to call home. Several things remained constant among them. There were different levels of the Sands, based on how close they were to ground zero. The original set that had appointed a leader to beg so eloquently in their behalf were all different types of the same creature, and they all had three forms. Those farther away from the blast had a much more varied shape, and generally only had two forms. The human form the All had given them to allow them to blend more with their neighbors and in doing so hold up their original directive. The world had changed around them, and as the bulk of mankind grew, stories arose among those early denizens of this planet, myths of flying monsters and creatures of luck, sea creatures that defied explanation. As the Sands spent more and more time in their humanoid forms, their leader became aware of an ever increasing rise in the abuse and mistreatment of others among their adopted world, and so they became the heroes to a multitude of people. Some of those people stayed with them, some out of love, some out of respect, and some just had nowhere else to go. These people willingly gave up their freedoms to become servants, and once they had bonded, the sands would rip through time itself to take care of them.

Another four millenia have passed. The time had almost come for the All to judge if the sands were worthy of being included as part of the pattern. A final test would be given, this one that they would take mates for themselves, among each other, and create a new breed. If the new breed bred true to the dominate mate, then they would be allowed to remain in the pattern, and a secure place would be given them. There was only one problem with this. Some of the lower levels of Sands had decided that they wanted to be on top, so to speak, and had preempted the All’s command. Jumped the gun. Put the cart before the horse. Flat out were crazy. As a result, there was suddenly a flush of creatures on the planet, not Sands, but children of. The balance of power shifted, and in doing so, the highest level Sands convened in a secret meeting with the All. A Council was formed, from those on the highest levels and those from the lower, an even division. The veto vote was given to the original leader, on the grounds that had they not given the argument none of them would be here at this time.

That original leader bowed to the will of the All, but stipulated that there would be no mating of that highest level until the original time that the All had deemed. In a move of solidarity, not one of them said a word against that decree. The Council argued, to no avail. The highest level had spent the past nine thousands years gaining wisdom and knowledge, carving out a niche in their societies. They updated themselves constantly, keeping up with modern innovations and changing how they viewed the world as a result. Although they were not allowed to affect the evolution of humans, they did develop new things for their own people, inventions for efficiency, for creativity, and for art. Their coffers were full and their libraries vast, their human families having multiplied beyond what they would have ever thought possible. And they continued to fight for the injustices of those around them.

A thousand years may seem like a long time, but to the Sands it went quickly. The time had come, the Council argued, for them to take mates. Because the lower levels had proliferated to such an extent due to their peremptory mating practices, there were now more of the lower levels than previously. So, not only did the Sands now have to take a mate, but they had to take four.

A leader is only a leader if they lead. So, the Sand that had been there at the beginning of it all, who by happenstance was the closest to the creation blast, who saw the All working in a way that none other had before or since, this Sand had to take the lead and take mates. This particular Sand stayed in human form most of the time, and was female in that form, and knew what that entailed. And she was not happy that her world was being overturned because of sibilant ambitions. Someone, she swore, would pay. Look out world, here be dragons!

The dance floor was hopping as she prowled through the bowels of the club, loving the energy coming off the dancers in waves. Gods, she could stay here forever. Something about the unguarded emotions of a gay club in full swing almost made her feel high. She let the dancers brush against her, the heat of their bodies seeping through the thin material of her top, males and females alike. There were no judgements here, no walls, just the joy of the dance and the beat of the techno music blaring out of the speakers. She felt the rhythms, like a heartbeat they were to her, bass and flesh creating a composition of beauty that only someone hiding behind some flimsy facade of a mask could deny. It was why she came here. Beauty amidst the dark, safety among those of like minds. Oh, they may call it something else, but she knew. They came here, just as she did, to connect on a level more spiritual than physical, the loudness of the music drowning out their day-to-day mundane thoughts, the joy of the dance hypnotic.

She finally relaxed enough to give in to the rhythms pulsing in her brain, and let her mind rest, swept away into the dance; self-hypnosis was an excellent cathartic. She danced alone, yet surrounded by people, and felt a closeness with each and every one that she may never see again, never know their names or where they were from. College towns tended to be like that, here today and gone tomorrow. It didn’t matter. Right here, right now, they belonged to her, and she to them. They were one. She closed her eyes and gave that last bit of her self-awareness up, and simply became part of the rhythms on the dance floor.

Some untold time later, she came back to herself, energized, to feel her body bracketed by two cute little twinks. The humor was not lost on her; twinks they may be, but they both were taller than her. She smiled to herself. One day she would get in trouble for the jokes she told herself in her head, but not today. She simply let herself sway to the sensual music and enjoyed the feel of the firm young bodies against her own.

One of the twinks, a slender man with short spiky blond hair and hot pink highlights, danced away and disappeared into the crowd. Damn, that was a fine ass in those low-slung tight black jeans. She hated to see him leave, but was loving watching him go. The twink at her back simply held onto her and ground his body against her ass. She could feel his erection through the thin material of their pants. So, not a total twink, then, or maybe he was so caught up in the music that any old body would do. Enjoyable, nonetheless.

She arched her back against him and his hands moved up from her waist and pressed firmly against her breasts, gently kneading as the tips peaked hard into his palms. She felt him moan and his cock surged harder against her ass as his lips nibbled delicately at her neck and shoulder. OK, so not just any old body. Had she finally gotten lucky and found someone that wanted her as well as a man? The arousal his hands had started on her breasts moved in tingly rivers to her clit, her panties flooding with moisture.

She turned her head to the side to see this wonderful godlike creature creating such a surge of arousal in her. What she saw was shocking. The man was only a couple of inches taller than her, with dark hair and green eyes, although with the club’s lighting she could be wrong about the eyes. Currently they were heavy lidded with passion and lust. She moved her gaze to his full pouty, oh, so kissable lips then back to his eyes in a wordless invitation. He responded by pressing those sexy lips to hers, despite the awkwardness of the angle. She sighed as she explored those lips with her tongue, seeing if he would let her delve deeper. His lips separated on a moan, and she caught the bottom one with her teeth, ever so gently. She felt him shudder as he sent his tongue along to meet hers, greeting hers and inviting it inside. The beat of the music and tempo of the dancers around them made the whole event feel somewhat surreal, but who cared? She was taking what she could get.

She had no idea how long they had been kissing when she was distracted by another mouth with tongue and teeth exploring the unprotected side of her neck. She knew without looking that blondie of the tight pants and great ass was back. Reluctantly breaking the kiss with Pouty Lips, she turned her head to meet Blondie of the Tight Pants with a kiss of his own. Totally surrounded by young firm twink, she realized that this was more than a bit out of the norm, at least for this dance floor. Umm, yeah. Like she was going to struggle to get away. Blondie broke the kiss, then backed away a half step and presented her with a cold bottle of water. Oh, bless the man!

Smiling her thanks, she broke the seal and let the cool water wash down her throat, the heat and sweat of the past few hours flowing away, taking with it the slight fatigue she was beginning to feel. She was getting too old to be out partying all night. As a matter of fact, she would bet that she had reached her majority before either of the gorgeous bodies on either side of her had even been a twinkle in their fathers’ eyes. Several generations worth of daddies, to be honest. Not that anyone would believe that. She had no illusions about her body; she stood 5’4”, weighed just under 200 pounds, most of it solid muscle. No one would make the mistake of calling her skinny, or thin, or even slender. No, she was built wide, with broad shoulders like a man and narrow hips, the kind that would never allow her to give birth without some serious complications. Otherwise, genetics had been good to her, giving her an eternally youthful face and some seriously cool hair. Taking into account the power that she radiated as the leader of her gang, and it could be understandable why a twink or two might take a fancy to her. Yeah, she was down for that.

The vibrations of the phone in her front pocket broke through her reverie. Capping the bottle, she grabbed the phone to look at the display. Shit! She had to get out of here to take this call. Smiling brightly at the boys as she stepped away, she felt a twinge of satisfaction at the sad puppy dog looks they were giving her. She pointed at the phone, then held up her index finger to let them know she would be right back. And felt instantly gratified when smiles lit up their faces. Turning away, she shouldered her way through the crush of dancers, deciding up was probably better than out. Making her way to the roof, she stepped over ‘dancers’ sitting on the stairs, locked together and scattered all the way up. She nodded at the bouncer at the rooftop door, who nodded back in acknowledgement and swung open the door for her, the lights hitting the side of his neck and the three in one spider tattoo situated there. Oh, he had more, and was constantly showing off a new one. No, she hadn’t been here a few times or anything. Weaving her way through the tables to the bar, she nodded at the bartender. He caught her look and smiled, waving her through to pass behind the bar, where she walked to a small storage room and closed the door behind her. Blessed quiet! She pulled the phone from her pocket just as it rang again. Damn, Scarlet was getting good at timing her! Smiling as she answered her phone, her face quickly grew somber as Scarlet started talking without even a simple greeting, her voice so agitated she could barely understand her. She registered slight alarm as she attempted to make sense of the conversation.

“Hold on Scarlet, slow down! What’s going on?”

Another voice came on the line. Damian must have taken the phone from Scarlet so they could actually communicate. He, too, sounded agitated, his breath heavy and uneven, strained.

“Boss, Snake is back in town. He apparently let it be known that he was going to get Scarlet back, no matter what. Word is, he is also here to shop for his stable.” He paused, as if trying to find the right words. “Boss, he can’t have Scarlet. I will kill him if I have to, but he will not take her!” His voice broke there at the end, and she felt her heart squeeze at his pain. Scarlet had been a sex slave, a real slave, yeah, a real one, right here in America, illegal or not, and had been through some serious shit before she had gotten away and landed here. After hearing some of the things that had gone down, she and her entire gang had pledged to not only make sure that Scarlet stayed safe, but to do whatever it took to make sure that particular evilness stayed out of their town, if not their country.

“Damian, of course we won’t let him have her. I need you to calm down and breathe for me, okay?” She could hear his breath as he struggled to obey her slow measured words, the cadence designed to bring a trained respondent back to calmness quickly and efficiently.

“I’m okay now, boss.” His voice was still shaky, but he wasn’t lying to her; he was good now and ready to obey. He was very well trained.

“Good boy”, she purred in his ear. Very calmly and concisely, she gave him instructions on phone calls to make and preparations to begin. “While you are doing all that, bring Scarlet to the club. She will be safest here in the basement residence with me than anywhere else in town. It’s not like we don’t have plenty of security.” She ended on a light note, purposely to hear the smile in Damian’s voice.

“Yes, boss lady!” And then he was gone. She pocketed her phone with a grin. The little imp! She hated when he called her that and he fucking knew it. No matter. Punishments were fun times and enjoyable by all parties involved. Smiling again as she went back towards the bar, she thought of her two twinks on the dance floor and then the smile went away as she hoped to hell they weren’t actually real submissives. Being an alpha or a beta was totally not the same as being a dom or a sub. Not that Snake really cared, as long as he could cow them, he considered them fair game.

She gestured at the bartender, who was currently chatting up a guy with more hair on his chest than on his head. Ick! Idly she watched as Jordan waved at the guy at the bar before sauntering over to her. A lock of red hair slid over one side of his face and he flipped it unconsciously out of the way, the muscles in his chest and abdomen responding with rippling motions. Yes, she liked her twinks varied and with mostly hairless chests, thank you!

“Hey boss”, he drawled as he slid up next to her. “What’s up?”

She eyed him with her face devoid of emotion, just a blank stare that made him shudder and his cock tingle all at once. As she continued to stare up at him, he felt his nipples tighten and his balls shot through with lust. He would never get over how this unlikely woman could put him on his knees when he had never been anything but gay, never wanted anything that didn’t have a dick, but there she was, power exuding from her every pore. He struggled to swallow past the sudden knot of nerves in his throat, his head dropping submissively to the side before his master. She pulled his head down to hers, nibbled on his ear and slowly tongue fucked it before pulling slightly away.

“When would you like to be punished for flirting with that man?” she asked softly. She loved how he responded to her, and wished she had more time to play the game with him.

“P-please b-bo-boss, I was only doing m-my j-job. It wasn’t personal, I-I swear it.” He loved groveling for her. It made his life so much sweeter. And he knew that she knew it too. He shivered as her tongue slowly licked the length of the shell of his ear, and felt his cock harden painfully behind his tight leather pants. Which she could feel as she was pressed up tight against his body. He heard her chuckle sweetly. Such an evil laugh, to sound so innocent.

“Oh, I think that will be punishment enough. See that you keep that up for at least an hour, and no taking a break to jerk off either.” Oh, she knew him so well. And he loved every second of the exquisite torture only she could provide. He felt so needy, as his ass and cock twitched together; he knew he would have precum sealed inside the leather, which would make taking them off tonight that much more torturous. Such sweet agony!

She stroked his face, gently rubbing the celtic triskele tattoo on his neck, then her voice hardened as she drew back and looked him in the eye.

“One more thing. Keep an eye out. Snake is back in town, looking for Scarlet and some more subs to ‘add’ to his collection. If you see anything out of order or even just suspect anything, use the panic button. We’ll seal his hide inside the club. I’m going to tell Jake so we can get the net opened and ready, but be prepared for anything. And if you happen to see anyone that needs help, send them down the back stairs. He’ll not be scouting on my turf.”

His eyes widened, then he just nodded as she turned away and walked to the door back into the body of the club. Snake was just nasty. Jordan wasn’t surprised at the emphasis on ‘add’. Snake was a slaver, pure and simple. All of the twinks that lived in the boss’ stable, and there were quite a few, all of them were there by their own choice. Most of them, including himself, she had picked up off the street or out of the gutter or in his case, out of a puddle of his own blood, and took care of them. Got them safe and clean and healthy then offered them jobs, something they could call their own. They all loved her dearly and would kill anyone that tried to harm her or anyone else she claimed as hers. Snake took them and kept them, and no one was with him cause they thought he was a nice guy. Scarlet had escaped the cruel bastard not very long ago and when the boss had found her, she was nearly dead. All of them had fallen completely in love with the tiny waif and had begged their master to allow her to stay after she was healed. She was the little sister that they all loved, spoiled, and cherished. Even the boss tended to be overprotective of her. God, but he loved the boss!

Shaking his head to clear it as he heard an order for another round from a nearby table, he adjusted the hard cock inside his leather pants and got back to work making drinks, all the time scanning the area for anything suspicious. He had a job to do, and it was more than just making drinks. His family needed to be kept safe, and that is one job he would gladly do until death. They were his, and he would kill anyone that tried to harm them.

Walking back into the main part of the club, the guard at the door acknowledged his master and dropped his head down to her level. Jake knew the look in her eye meant that she needed to speak to him. At almost six and half feet tall, he definitely would never be called a twink by anyone with less balls than him. Except for the boss. She could call him anything she wanted and he would be happy. A knot formed in his stomach at her words. Snake, that bastard! If only he had killed him when he had the chance. The boss smacked him lightly on the face. He forced himself to relax as she spoke to him again, gentleness softening the harshness of her tone.

“This is not your fault lover! We do not kill when there is a choice to do otherwise. You know this. You did what needed to be done at the time, and you kept our family safe. I will never forget that. I do not know if he will have the cajones to show himself here, but I need you to be on the lookout, get the web opened and ready. Use the panic button if you see anything out of the ordinary, especially if you see anyone looking as if they are not willing. He is hunting for more subs to add to his collection. We are here to make sure that that does not happen at this club.”

He shivered at the hidden malice in her voice, knowing that she would do whatever it took to keep their family safe.

“Damian’s already called Greg, so he has his pack involved on this one, but quietly. Everyone is staying here tonight, so we won’t have to split up our forces. I need you to notify the rest of the floor about Snake. Outside security is already in the know. Now, I have some dancing to get back to. Stay safe lover.” With a parting caress to the side of his neck, gently stroking the spider tattoo there, she turned and walked away. And he watched his master’s tight body step lightly down the stairs, her calf length black boots shining dimly in the lights.

She always knew what to say and how to say it to make him feel loved and cherished. He was a part of her stable and she slept with whomever she wanted, and he knew that she loved them all. When his master said they were hers, that meant that they were under her protection. He also knew that Scarlet would do anything for her, although the boss hadn’t pushed that option. She preferred men to women, especially more than one man at a time, but she had been known to take a dip for dessert every now and then. She would need to soon, or Scarlet would begin to feel that she wasn’t part of the stable. While managing to push off a lot of her trials, she was still in the mindset that she was a slave, and a slave always needed a master. She couldn’t ask for a better master than the boss.

He turned his attention to his post and used his position at the top of the stairwell to study everything and every one that filled it while using his earpiece to contact and coordinate with the rest of the staff. If Snake got in, he wasn’t leaving this time. If the boss didn’t take care of him, he would. This wasn’t just his job, this was his family, and he would do anything to protect it.

~~~~

Justin was nervous as he danced with his best friend and lover, Ash. When they had first seen the woman moving so gracefully on the dance floor, the pull of power from her was almost blinding. They were both gay, always had been, and had never wanted a woman. Until her. They knew almost at once that they would belong to her, in some shape or form. Dancing with her had been heaven, kissing her a whole ‘nother level above that. He and Ash had been together a long time, since first discoveries in middle school, and could usually communicate without words. They had had each others’ back for so long, a look could contain whole paragraphs of information. They had both been drawn to the powerful aura surrounding her, but after she had kissed them they knew. They would do whatever it took to be with her. They knew that she would protect them.

She had left them a while ago, pointing at her phone and indicating that she would be back, so they stayed as close to the same spot as she left them to make sure she could find them when she came back. Justin was scared to death that she wouldn’t come back. They needed her. He just hoped she wouldn’t reject them once she found out just how broken they were, how dirty and sullied they were after the past three years of subjugation.

Ash watched his little lover, knowing he was nervous and why. The man could worry a stone to death. The woman had said she would come back and he had felt nothing but honesty from her. Honesty and power. It had always been a gift of his, reading people’s emotions, but after the past three years of hell, he had no hope that he would be able to feel honesty from another person other than Justin ever again. Until her. With her he felt truth and untold amounts of power. He reached out and gently stroked the little man down the side of his cheek. Justin looked up at him and read the calm in his eyes and relaxed ever so slightly.

Neither of them saw the man watching them from the shadows on the edge of the dance floor, his eyes gleaming with barely concealed lust. His large head was shaved and shone with oil, a jagged white scar sliced down the side of one cheek, leaving his upper lip slightly puckered at one corner. It gave the impression of a sneer, as if the man needed any help with that. His eyes never left the two dancers as he slowly licked his lips. Malice leered out of their dark depths as evil plans of retribution spun through his head.

In a club, there are always watchers. And then someone who watches the watchers. The boss employed many of such people and they watched the people watching. Body language said so much about a person and their intent; to a trained watcher, it was like reading a book. And someone had noticed the shaved man watching, and had seen the way he looked at the twinks that the boss was dancing with earlier and did not like it one bit. Add to that the message he had just received on the bud in his ear, and he was seconds from hitting the panic button when he caught sight of the huge tattoo of a snake wound around the man’s neck and coming up with the head on the man’s oily pate, the twin fangs appearing to slice right between each of the man’s eyes. Immediately, he hit his panic button. Silently, bars and panels came down to cover all entrances and exits, effectively sealing everyone in. Guards and bouncers immediately convened on the watcher’s space, and he pointed to the bald-headed man as he continued to stare at the two men on the dance floor, still oblivious to the fact that he had been made and his fate was now written.