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6 - Tink

This is your dog. He’s trained to protect you when you need to sleep… Tinkerbell, but he also answers to Tink. – Dom

The morning after prom, the wreck that killed all three of Camille’s attackers was announced. Only the Musketeers knew for certain that the body declared to be Charles Parker was not Charles Parker. When they questioned Dom about it, she had shrugged and said that she had access to dead bodies.

And then lamented that she had not gotten herself any ice cream when they stopped at McDonald’s.

They had all gone to the memorial service for the three boys. Even Porthos got his leave extended to attend with his friends. Camille and Priscilla rolled their eyes as everyone said how great they were.

Huddled together with their heads bent low, the two friends quietly snickered when girls speaking about how great the boys were started crying.

“Ask your sister if cheerleaders cry on command.” Camille whispered to Priscilla as they hid behind tissues and muffled their laughter with the occasional sniffle.

“Give me a D.” Priscilla whispered back, and Becks placed a hand on her daughter’s back.

To the outsider, it looked like a mother comforting her child. But Camille knew that it was a gentle reminder of where they were.

Leaning close, Becks placed a light kiss to the teen’s temple. “Is that a D for Dom?”

Priscilla laid her head on her mom’s shoulder and Aramis placed an arm around Becks and began to play with Priscilla’s hair. Mirroring her friend on Sid’s shoulder, Camille soon felt Porthos’ fingers in her hair.

The rest of the service had been spent like this. Afterwards, the long-time friends went to their usual hangout before Porthos had to fly back to Korea.

When Camille returned to school after the memorial service for all three boys, it was with a helper dog that Dom had gotten her. The Doberman Pinscher was trained specifically for her needs and her doctor had signed off on the certification as a helper dog.

She had worked with Dom a little bit every day and learned the commands to give Tink. He happily wore his vest declaring him a helper dog as he tracked his new mistress. Within a few weeks, they were working well together as a team. By the time of her senior breakfast, they were a cohesive unit.

Throughout the unofficial ceremony she snapped pictures of herself and Tink and sent them in the group chats. The musketeers reminded her that they had warned her that the whole morning was boring. Her sisters had no sympathy while her brothers only asked about the food.

Charlotte responded with an eye roll emoji and End of the world and those idiots will ask if theres gonna be snacks

It did not take long for Dutch to reply with Bwains!!! and multiple zombies emojis.

Finally, the longest, boringest and tasteless breakfast was over, and they went outside to the bleachers for the class pictures. Since she was in the top ten graduates, she had to sit in the bottom row. Camille had no problems with this since most of her friends had either already graduated or were in lower grades.

She was not socially adept as her brothers and sisters were. Priscilla and she had been close since they were in diapers. The Musketeers came along later and now they had acquired Megan and Michelle. Once again, one had already graduated, and the other was a grade behind her.

Tink sat at her feet as he was trained to do. When the senior class advisor looked at Camille, she knew what was coming. Since there was no room for him under the bench, her dog sat leaning into her legs while looking up at her.

“Sitzen, bleiben,” Camille ordered softly. Sit, stay.

“I understand that you believe that you have to have your dog with you-“

“Mr. Aguilera!” Camille called out to the district’s superintendent, cutting Mrs. Davis off. She ignored the snicker from the kid sitting next to her. Cody, Colby, Kelvin? She would know for certain what his name was tomorrow night. And then forget it again for the rest of her life.

“Miss Johanson,” Martin Aguilera smiled at her as he approached. “This must be Tink.”

“It is.” Camille confirmed.

“Mr. Aguilera, I’m sure that you agree that there is a time and place for our students to have their pets.”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Miss Davis.” The superintendent said harshly. “There is a difference between a pet and a certified assistant animal. And it is more than just the little vest that he wears. That dog, that certified helper dog, will stay exactly where he is, doing his job. And you will go over there,” he pointed to the far end of the group, “and do your job.”

Thoroughly chastised, Mrs. Davis took a deep breath and then slowly let it out.

“Was there something else, Mrs. Davis? Some other federal law that you would like to try to violate?”

Camille knew from Evie and her men that the superintendent was a Dom at the local BDSM club that Evie’s family owned. She had never seen this side of him before, having only ever seen him as the friendly school board superintendent. Clenching her thighs together, she tried to ignore the sensation at her core.

Her secret, that only Dom knew about, was that she was very much a sub. Using her skills with electronics, she had sneaked into Dom’s basement dungeon and was caught. Not that she had objected to being strapped to a cross and having a crop taken to the back of her legs. When Dom released her from the cross, she rushed up to her room and the hand-held showerhead.

After the pictures, she walked out towards her bike with Tink happily trotting beside her. The cap and gown were meticulously folded and tucked into her saddlebag beneath Tink’s seat. And the leather cut was pulled out and tossed onto her seat.

“Hoch,” she ordered, and he jumped up to sit on the leather seat. It had taken them a little while to work out how to get him into his safety harness for the bike. With him on the seat seemed to be the easiest for them. She slipped on the harness before ordering him to lay. “Legen.”

As she was tightening the straps on the harness connecting to the railing on the seat, her phone chimed. Once it was to her satisfaction, she pulled out her phone and opened the messaging app.

Bring your patched ass to the Cookie Jar

Smiling, she pulled on her cut with the full patch on the back. She was proud that she had earned the Saints’ patch. The same night that she received her patch, she got to vote for her best friend to become a prospect. Now Priscilla would get to spend a year being tortured.

Cleaning up after meetings.

Running bullshit errands.

Driving drunk ass brothers around.

With a quick response of OMW, she headed over to the little café bakery, bakery café… she never could remember what the official name was. It was just the Cookie Jar.

Walking in, she waved at the girls behind the counter knowing that her friends would have already ordered her favorites for her. After a lunch filled with laughter and lots of fun, Camille and Priscilla headed to her uncle’s woodworking shop.

Priscilla took pictures of the latest stock and custom pieces. Camille talked with Sticks and by the time they left to go meet with the new customer that Cookie was redoing an old funeral home for, she knew about his next line of furniture. And with the grin he gave her, she was certain that he suspected her deep dark dirty secret.

Not that anyone would believe it.

Camille was surrounded with hot young men. She could take any of them to her bed. Had given a few blow jobs to a few of the younger brothers and prospects. But other than a few fingers and tongues, her pussy remained untouched.

After the meeting with Shiloh, they worked in Camille’s room at the Shack until the Musketeers insisted that they join them for a beer. Toad denied the request for them to have beers since the majority of them were still underage. Typically, he would allow them at least one beer each. But Bearcat had brought his girlfriend, a cop, to the clubhouse.

They debated a movie. Dinner at one of the local restaurants.

“Mini-golf.” Michelle said quietly.

“I haven’t done that in years.” Megan grinned. “Let me go see if Karan will watch the baby.”

“Like you really have to ask.” Aramis chuckled and a few minutes later, his girlfriend returned without the baby. “Her working at the daycare really makes her want a baby.”

“I don’t hear Cookie complaining.” Priscilla laughed.

“I hear quite the opposite.” Camille rolled her eyes.

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