Nyx and Zane

Nyx's POV

The moonglade is perpetually scorching, the sight of stars reminding me that moon is above its apex and the sunrise awaits my attendance. I turn to my side seeing Zane wrapped in a honeycomb blanket naked except for the choker that I never took off, except for loosening it so his breathing during the night wouldn't be interrupted.

When he climaxed, it became clear to me that he was tired from the play. So, with my hands around his hips and shoulders, I lifted him up carrying him to the next room which was the master bed. Then I untied his shackles and cleaned him with a handkerchief.

I hadn't come the entire night but what scared me was, even then it had been the most pleasurable night of my life. In my previous escapades, these were the times when I would leave, albeit with cuts and bruises, and a drier pussy than the Sahara but having seen the heaving of his chest as I raked my hands along his torso, the thin dig that cut his abs to his hips where his cock was covered with the thin white sheets, I knew. No matter how hard I tried, I could have never had or have such an experience in the future again.

Oh hell! How I hated God right now for instilling the need in humans to sleep but then my mind went to all the things I could do to him while he was unconscious, and I shoved two fingers straight down my throat to block my keys of sins when he was in no place to consent.

This was bad, I recited to myself after he collapsed on the bed and slept that second. I had texted FMSE the details that I had gotten off him, and I knew they would act on it. Not that I could convince any cell in my body to care.

'Please let me cum, Madame...' The memory of his words turned me on instantly as I squeezed my legs together to relieve the pressure, but I was unsuccessful.

I had to leave; I knew that. My feelings for him were just my horny mind making up stupid fantasies. I believed that, but why was it so hard then?

I started working for FMSE when I was fourteen, as a courier across nation borders in Latin America and slowly climbed the ladder to professional assassin and investigative officer.

Today was a seldom affair, merely once in three months and all my targets had an uncanny similarity to the dot. But he was different. His lips softer than the syrup of heaven, his skin as smooth as cake itself and his shudders when he felt my arms racing over every inch of his body, delicious.

I wanted to stay; God forsake the risk. I wanted to fuck him till there wasn't an inch of my body left untouched by his cum, punish him until his body programmed itself to need my pain more than the pleasure itself, mind wash him into the perfect submissive, for him to never leave me again.

I sighed instead, as I took my hands out of my mouth, dipped them in the bowl to clean which I had previously used to clean him, without awaking him, in attempt to wash mine. Until I saw the damp handkerchief that had his juices and mine, with the dirty water lying on the floor, beside the bowl, and a sick thought filled me.

I wanted to relieve the night again and again, but since I couldn't, taking a memoir that held a part of him, felt like the next best thing. Now, I couldn't hide it in my purse since it would be checked when I reached the headquarters, but I needed it. The sickness of the thought overwhelmed me as I slowly squatted down to the floor, laying on my back, careful to be silent.

I opened my legs as the cold wood met my ass and making a pointy cone out of the hanky, I trailed my hands along my inner thighs. With my breath hitching to stifle my moans without rousing him, I jabbed it in my pussy biting my lip hard as my eyes rolled up to edge of my head.

I used my two fingers to push it in as far it could go and pinched my clit repeatedly, hoping to relieve some pressure. But edge of its stitching scratched my wall, and soon I was lost in the pleasure.

My thoughts went to how the ridges of Zane's tongue would feel enveloping me like the yarn of the cloth and his delicious cock as I would choke him with the belt beneath me and rock him to the edge for hours.

My imagination got the best of me, and I bit my tongue, but it only sent the hot waves to my clit.

Still, I felt I could control myself, until I heard him roll in his bed with the calmest whisper, knowing he was talking in his sleep, the single world, 'Nyx...', and I came undone.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and I jabbed my nails into my hips, holding back any sound, knowing if we woke up, I wouldn't have the power in me to leave.

10 minutes later, my toys were packed, all the doors to the place which were always used for nights like these locked, and snapping a hasty kiss on Zane's forehead, after which I had to slap myself with my belt on the cheek, I left into the cold breeze of the night.

Zane's POV

I woke up a little after eight, by the sound of the driver knocking at the door. I think it was a door, but I couldn't be too sure, since this was the first time I had been in that house. I looked around hoping to find the suppleness from last night, but the unwrinkled bed beside me had its gives.

The pit in my stomach was large enough to enrich a volcano, and her longing was no better, but I didn't have a choice. It was a dream. A sick awful dream that I wished to relive again and again and again. Fuck she was right about me. Mistress...my mistress.

My anger buckled me to break everything in sight, until the honking got louder forcing me to get dressed and leave.

I reached the Arena Expo headquarters an hour late, after a pitstop at the shared apartment (I sold my penthouse to an orphanage and dad threatened to take me out of the will. I then protected him from a loss of 14 million by fixing the La Grandezza server for the entire company and he forgave me.)

And I was sure that Michael or Mario had already made a comment about me being a sissy last night until the screaming in the boardroom distracted me and I jogged in rolling my sleeves over my elbows to appear as unkempt as them.

The ruckus was unexplainable by the loudness of the barks and papers flying everywhere which was as relieving as it was unnerving. At least they wouldn't ask about Nyx any...

'Hey, Zane! Bollocks, it's good that you are finally here. Michael is talking about spending the weekend in Houston House this week. I am officially concerned.'

They never went to the beach house until something catastrophic happened, and that too, not in our legal biz. Fuck, I can't take another full Arena men debacle. Not after last night.

'What are you talking about, Jon? I thought we held yesterday's party celebrating the Shepley Enterprises deal?'

Jonathan was my co-colleague, and one of my only friends, who knew all about our bi-lateral lives since he was our assistant legal advisor and the most supportive friend in this bigamy.

'Apparently, there was a big raid at Copperto this morning. Some of the guards were abducted and they spilled details about the arms dealers in Chicago. He is scared that we might have to give up the business.'

Wait... 'The Copperto in Graytown?' I tried very hard to maintain my composure whilst fiddling my thumbs in my pockets, but I still felt my blood boiling inside.

'Obviously. Just calm them down so we can get back to work and figure an actual way out of this instead of them butting their cocks in a rampage.' I patted him away moving towards my brothers with the usual calmness I had of being the fixer of the family. My blood simmered but my heart understood if my mother got to know about this, it would kill her.

Two whole hours later, I was beside Jonathan ordering prostitutes for my entire family after the dinner party hoping that it'll relieve some stress, and not because I cared about them, but mostly because I cared about their wives. Poor ones... Until my relationship status rode my head with memories of Nyx's betrayal, and I felt like burning my skin, just to shake her off.

She had almost destroyed my entire family and though no one knew the raid was leaked by me, I knew how she had used me, and I couldn't for the life of me, make it stop hurting.

I banged my Mac's lid harder than necessary forcing Jonathan to stare at my last engine history.

'You know, with your looks, you could just go to the bar and pick someone up. You don't need this ugly rich people shit'.

Before I could even tell him that they weren't for me, the thought of him figuring out what happened last night, uselessly skidded my brain and I made the best excuse I could come up with, 'Na, bro. Too much work.'

'Or you could enrol in one of the sex-clubs that everyone is into these days. That's a long-term thing and the girls are more proactive. It's like assured sex without the burden of marriage or a relationship.' If only it were that easy to forget her.

I was about to deny how it wasn't for me until the memory of her eyes staring in mine as she whipped me red, which still hurt to sit in, reminding me oh so slightly every minute about last night, and I took a chance.

'What kind of clubs, exactly?'

***

The pellets of snow hit my face as I stood in the alley after texting Johnathon about my arrival and asking him to send someone out from the inside, since I knew they didn't welcome unsolicited guests. The winter drops of heavenly dew cupped my face slowly melting at the ridges of my eyelids, identifying that I was burning inside with a piping hot fume.

The door opened moments later as a tall girl wearing a beret and a polar fur coat exited the small shop and offered me a smile.

'Are you Zane Carpenter?' she asked with a polite smile riding her face.

'Yes, I am.' Like hell was I giving them my real name with the number of people knowing and fearing my family name in this State, albeit this particular town being as far as it could be from our headquarters.

'Mr Carpenter, come in, please.' She took my hand sharing none of the professionalism that her voice depicted and pulled me inside like I was a little child who would get lost without the assistance of his mother.

'So, usually we ask for your preferences before leading you into respective consortiums, but I am especially good at reading people's desires even they didn't know exist. And, if I am not wrong- submissive, female, and hardcore BDSM? Oh wait, hardcore femdom for inexperienced men. Am I close?'

My body's temperature rose, and so did my defence mechanisms.

'Miss, you have no right to judge me like that.'

'Mr Carpenter, you aren't my first rodeo and won't be me last for a long haul. So, you may blush like an idiot or own it like a sissy boy, I couldn't care less.' Bitch!

Sure, her lips were plump and her legs slender with a unique bend that could only be seen in a professional dancer's body, but I wasn't that desperate. Or maybe you are, my little slut.

Mistress's voice in my head didn't come as much of a surprise because of the innate flush of her memories coursing through me in these past twenty-four hours, but I didn't like it very much. Not when it wasn't real. And it wasn't.

The courage of her betrayal empowered me as I spoke, 'Yes, those are my preferences. Now, where do I sign for the NDAs?'

'As soon as you fill up this form and lend us some ID details, we can finish the paperwork, but you don't have to worry too much, this is just for first timers. When you come again, things would be much easier, trust me.' She winked at me passing an old school Ipad making sure to graze my knuckles with her fake neon nails.

She can't touch you like I can. The velvet sound was almost welcomed the second time, but I hated that I couldn't have a single ounce of attraction towards this beautiful lady as I had had with her.

Her blonde hair didn't bear any semblance to Mistress's luscious black dipped in an earthen mud brown, or her hips that weren't wide enough to support an ample ass meant to ride my mouth, or her eyes that bore mischief but no intention to harm. Mistress Nyx was capable of real pain. And she made sure to leave living proofs of it, everywhere she went.

'Too lost in an ex-girlfriend we need to help you forget, lover-boy?' Her pinching whisper snapped me out of my dilemma as I went over to fill the details using one of the hundred IDs my family had made to carry out unspeakable tasks without a single worry for unwanted attention.

I finished the information form shaking my head as I scanned the second one, unable to stop my mouth from gaping just the slightest.

It was a dos, don'ts, maybe page like a porn filters bar filled with hundred boxes and signs below to indicate our answers.

I quickly ticked over everything I understood from getting Flogged, Choking, Gagged, Fisted, Penetrated, Dog Play, Humiliation, Orgasm Denial, Handcuffs, Anal and a few more things.

Then switched to crossing Faeces Play, Piggy Style, Blades, Blood play, and some other obscene stuff that no way in hell I would willingly commit to. Not even with me?

I shook the feeling of being empty without her, focusing on the ones left. They were things that I had trouble understanding and started asking my escort about, while noticing that still no one had entered this little booth that was just at the entrance of the club and had nothing except a small wooden table, two chairs and black drapes surrounding the walls.

'Piss Play? Oh, you really are a clueless Muppet. Master Johnathon mentioned you would be fun to play with, but such innocence. My friends would love a bite...

To answer your question, it can be, being fed your own piss, your partner's piss, being peed on which is also in the category of Golden Shower, having your man cunt filled with piss or even taking a bath in a massive piss orgy. The sky's the limit. And Horror Play is... well, true to its name. It's basically clowns or ghosts or monsters scaring you until you cum.'

She shrugged her shoulders and I almost fainted from anxiety. I wasn't ready for this. This wasn't me. It was a freak accident when I was horny, and I thought the effects wore off when one woke up from the high. My forehead started sweating at the thoughts, but the pinching whisper came again.

'Sign Zane, you know you want to. You wouldn't have come if you didn't. You want to forget her. There is only one way out. Let someone fuck her out of you.'

Her voice reminded me of waking up from a sweet sleep by the whispers of my father talking about his dirty conquests near my goddamn ear because our walls were thin in the small apartment. I was barely five and he scared me. A lot.

Her pussy was so thin, I felt almost angry at ripping it as hard as I did. And she thought she could leave without thanking me for it.

My brothers laughed accepting how easy it was to commit infidelity towards their own damn mother and laugh about it because abusing women was a sport. I barely scratched the surface with the stylus before she took my hand again wrapping a single silk scarf around my left wrist and led me out of the booth into the drapes.

The hallway away from the drapes was completely dark except for a flickering bulb at the end of it and though I should have been cautious if not fearful, I was tired of caring. I slouched my shoulders, dropping the last sense of control I had, and I knew she sensed it when she tightened my hand and sped her stride.

The corridor ended and she spoke baring an elusive smile, 'You're ready.' And just like that, she opened the door and threw me into the club closing it behind me, knowing I couldn't leave anymore.

***

My eyes barely took the sight of the gorgeous club with a golden and pepper aesthetic, expensive shadowbox lights, leather couches that were lacking back support and lay flat with a bar opposite it, when a short diva in a black leather jumpsuit approached me.

'You want to play, little pet?' Her eyes lingered over my coat as she raked her fingers over the edges, and I was feeling hotter with my cock springing to action without so much as a touch.

I felt my thin white polo making me shiver even though my skin burned to touch and my distressed jeans which earlier helped me to appear like a civilian left me naked to her gaze.

I don't know where my coat went when another similar Dom approached me with a wide collar, 'You look like you could use Mommy's hard cock. You know your tight ass is asking for it.'

Her hands groped my buttocks but not before the voice came. Don't you dare think of anyone else but me. Mine. Except it was louder this time and it felt more real. I knew I was hallucinating, and my horniness had made me lose all rationale until it came again.

'I am not a fucking slut. Respect me.' An audible muffling came later, and my head instantly turned in that direction seeing a man holding his hand over a brunette's mouth as he pressed into her with his other hand yanking her hair hard enough to rip.

My body would have rejected the arousal until I identified the face of the woman being lusciously groped and my body burst in goosebumps. Mistress Nyx.

'See, this is the problem with modern day women...he said as he pushed Mistress into the wall, front face trying to wrap her hands with the handcuffs that were accessible at the bar in a flower basket...you think that you bitches are entitled to everything in this world. Funny how the tables turn when a real guy comes along.'

He kept blabbering when the only second Mistress rested put him under the delusion that she was submitting when in fact she was bracing herself for a hit.

My eyes witnessed it in slow motion as body turned in unison with her leg raising and the guy would have been down in less than a single second with the kick aiming at his groin, if not for her eyes meeting mine.

The blush on her cheek was as noticeable as the fire in my belly, even though I knew, the redness displayed nothing but rage. I thought she would be happy to see me, explain her leave of absence, albeit with her sass and conflicting attitude, and I knew I would welcome any excuse, only if it led to her touching me again.

How far was I from the reality when instead of going through with her assault, she pushed her foot down, replacing her malice with submission and spoke in the voice I knew she had reserved for me the previous night, 'Yes, Sir.'

His eyes turned to the drapes leading to the private rooms, whose very edge had become my personal seat for the show, when I heard the click of the handcuffs closing in and with a smile that was as much manipulating to me as it was slave-like to the man holding her, she welcomed my presence to him.

'A cuck, Natalie? After all of how much I have thought of you, a cuck would have never crossed my mind. But don't you worry little slut, this will be as much pleasurable to you as it will be to me.' I questioned why he knew her name and I didn't? Why did he get to touch her, and I didn't? And why, knowing that she was torturing me without even touching me made me so hard?

I was snapped out of my thoughts when his hands went up to her breasts as he seated her on the sofa, his hands stopping right at her nipples and pulling hard as if his life depends on it. My own nipples felt like taffy when I gripped them through my polo, wondering how Mistress could ever bear so much. But all I saw was her eyes roaming all over me, as if undressing me bit by bit while moaning 'just fuck me already' as loud and sensually as she could.

'A real pain slut we have here. Play or fuck...see my little whore, usually I would. My favourite flavour is femdom submission, but my wife's been fucking my head for a

while now, and I couldn't possibly hurt a hair on her hair...he pulled harder on

Mistress's hair yanking a few strands as she whimpered, her eyes never leaving mine...but yours on the other hand. Just begging to be pulled like a bitch's tail.'