The Sentinels had been Lexie’s nickname for the guys when they’d been overprotective of her while Jake was overseas, after the X-men villains. She’d dubbed Patrick Master Mold at the time, but she hadn’t called any of them that in a looooong time.

Olivia snorted, drawing everyone’s attention.

“I think it’s hilarious you think I would allow that,” she said regally in her best stern Domme voice, raising her eyebrow censoriously. Her chin tilted up and she nearly spilled the whiskey in her glass before Maria helped catch her hand. Molly’s head lifted from where it was on Maria’s lap before settling back down again. Rather tipsy, although probably more sober than Olivia currently was, Maria was smiling and looking like she was having a good time.

On the other side of the sectional, Sharon immediately flung herself off the couch and forward onto her knees, her arms raised high in the air as she bowed, supplicating herself, rising back up and down as she intoned:

“All hail the Queen of Peen! All hail the Queen of Peen!”

From beside the spot Sharon had just vacated, Kate lifted her vodka and lemonade in the air, shouting over Sharon’s chanting and everyone’s laughter. “To the Duchess of Dongs!”

“The Baroness of Ball-Torture!” Jessica exclaimed, laughing as she raised her own glass.

“Our Lady of Strap-ons!” Angel yelled, raising the small ramekin she was keeping her dipping-ranch in.

No one heard the door to the basement open until Andrew was suddenly bellowing down the stairs. “What the hell is going on down there?!”

The laughter cut off immediately, almost everyone either scowling or pouting.

“Dammit,” Hilary cursed loudly, which was definitely not the usual for her (unless she was watching football). “It’s not the same!”

Without saying a word, Olivia rose to her feet.

“Ooooooh shit snacks!” Sharon whispered, watching with big eyes from where she was kneeling on the floor. Behind her on that side of the couch, Ellie and Kate looked like they were practically vibrating with excitement as Olivia moved to the foot of the stairs and looked up the stairwell.

Andrew looked back down at her, the expression on his tanned face turning a little sheepish.

She put her hands on her hips.

“Right… sorry… we’re not here,” he muttered. Olivia nodded as he meekly stepped back and closed the door.

Turning back to the room, she opened her arms wide.

This time everyone except Angel—who pumped her fist in the air in time to the chant—got on their knees to give her a twisted kind of Wayne’s World tribute.

“Queen of Peen! Queen of Peen!”

There was a stalker after her, a club to run, and her new submissive was also her boss… but fuck all that.

Olivia was the Queen of Peen.

She drank the rest of her whiskey as a shot.

“To the windooooows!” she sang.