Page 2
Story: Moth & Flame
Was it worth it?
Fuck, yes.
My face is rather recognizable, and if anyone were to catch me patronizing akink house, I’d probably be flayed by family, ostracized by the public, to then be brutally murdered by my horrid fiancé. Not because he gives a batty fuck about who I have sex withor who manually stimulates me, but purely because one of the few things he actually cares about ispublic perception.
Akashforbid I seek pleasure from anyone but him when he spends every evening glutting himselfand his cockon his mistresses. A fact for which I am supremely grateful, as it allows me a brief reprieve.
So, in the shadows, I shall remain, admiring Mr. Morainu from afar.
My heart withers at the thought.
HELLA
PRESENT DAY
Ilied. In the shadows, I did not remain. Did I mention I have very little impulse control? Hence, all the stalking of Mr. Draven Morainu. I tried to resist–really, I did. I spent months sneaking out of work and shirking my duties to haunt the vicinity of Moth & Flame, all in the hopes of catching a fleeting glance of the male. But it seems he rarely leaves the building—I’ve only caught him a handful of times. I can only assume he lives in one of the penthouses at the top of the towering stone-and-glass building.
When my patience finally dwindled away, I took the leap—conjured a disguise and slipped inside.
Draven is everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of, even if I have to pretend not to know his name or anything about him. One of the numerous legal forms Moth & Flame clients are obligated to sign prior to membership states that allMasters and Mistressesof the house are forbidden from giving out their real names or personal details, to prevent any unwanted attention.
I am only ever allowed to refer to Draven asMaster,Daddy, My Lord,orSir—and for the last three months, I’ve spent nearly every evening after work sneaking into Moth &Flame in increasingly elaborate costumes, entering through VIP Members’ discreet alleyway entrance reserved for their more affluent clients who prefer their predilections to remain private.As they should.
As unfathomable as it seems, I’m his onlypersonalclient. One evening, after yet another four-hour session, I tried to make a subtle comment by saying,“Thank you for spending so much time with me. I’m sure you’ve had a very busy day with your other clients.”To my surprise, Draven replied,“You’re the only client I personally host.”
Each evening, our sessions are booked for one hour, and yet, by the time I leave, several hours have passed. I am also certain we’ve crossed a great many professional boundaries over the last three months, but much to my dismay, mymasterhas yet to actuallyfuck me.Well, at least not with his cock. Or at least not the one attached to his body.
And while I have been on the receiving end of a very large, shadowy, lykos-shaped cock—bulging knot and all—I still haven’t gotten to experience the real thing.Much to my dismay.
Tonight, however, I will beg. If you thought grovelling was beneath me, you are very much mistaken. And while, admittedly, there isn’t anyone else in this realm I would get on my hands and knees for, there isn’t a thing in this dreary, lonely world Iwouldn’tdo forDaddy Draven Morainu.
Heaving a lovelorn sigh, I fix my gaze on the display screen where my singular photo of Draven lingers—a rather grainy image I managed to take myself when I’d just happened to catch him outside of his business. My mind travels to a time and place where I can escape my cursed fiancé, my foul family, and live a life beside Draven—if he’d have me.
My fantasizing is rudely cut short by an abrupt knock. My eyes reluctantly flick to the tall, blonde, slender silhouette I can see lurking beyond my office door: my sister.
Fuck.
HELLA
“Tell Lord Payne I don’t give a fuck what heassuresme of, I’m not interested, there’s nothing he can do to change my mind, and I hope he dies in a fucking fire.”
I didnotspend the last century ensuring Blackspire Blood Vaults has ethically sourced blood just to have Lord Fuckhole ruin it all by becoming a major shareholder.
My sister, Leif, scowls at me as one would a naughty child. “You’re being unreasonable.”
My jaw clenches with frustration. “Have you tasted the blood from his cryovaults? I cantastethe suffering. That male and his gods-forsaken enclave should be drawn and quartered in the Prime’s square.”
Leif pinches the bridge of her delicate nose. “You’re forgetting the fact that some peopleenjoythe taste of suffering.”
How could I fucking forget?
It’s at least half the reason why my fiancé, Alister, is so fucking horrible. Hewantsto taste the misery in my blood every time he drinks from me. Every emotion has a very specific taste, and negative emotions, like misery, pain, and fear, add certain notes to the bouquet of flavors.
In our modern society, it’s illegal to drink from someone without their consent. There are far too many people, not only humans, who would still be dwindling in population if our society’s morals and the Blackspire Empire’s legislation hadn’t evolved to protect theminori—those with little to no magic-wielding abilities.
Still, there are many people who crave the taste of fear and despair in blood. People like my fiancé.Akash damn him.
As if Leif can read my mind, she adds, “Like your fiancé.He’ll be furious if you decline Lord Payne’s offer. House of Payne is his favorite.”
Fuck, yes.
My face is rather recognizable, and if anyone were to catch me patronizing akink house, I’d probably be flayed by family, ostracized by the public, to then be brutally murdered by my horrid fiancé. Not because he gives a batty fuck about who I have sex withor who manually stimulates me, but purely because one of the few things he actually cares about ispublic perception.
Akashforbid I seek pleasure from anyone but him when he spends every evening glutting himselfand his cockon his mistresses. A fact for which I am supremely grateful, as it allows me a brief reprieve.
So, in the shadows, I shall remain, admiring Mr. Morainu from afar.
My heart withers at the thought.
HELLA
PRESENT DAY
Ilied. In the shadows, I did not remain. Did I mention I have very little impulse control? Hence, all the stalking of Mr. Draven Morainu. I tried to resist–really, I did. I spent months sneaking out of work and shirking my duties to haunt the vicinity of Moth & Flame, all in the hopes of catching a fleeting glance of the male. But it seems he rarely leaves the building—I’ve only caught him a handful of times. I can only assume he lives in one of the penthouses at the top of the towering stone-and-glass building.
When my patience finally dwindled away, I took the leap—conjured a disguise and slipped inside.
Draven is everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of, even if I have to pretend not to know his name or anything about him. One of the numerous legal forms Moth & Flame clients are obligated to sign prior to membership states that allMasters and Mistressesof the house are forbidden from giving out their real names or personal details, to prevent any unwanted attention.
I am only ever allowed to refer to Draven asMaster,Daddy, My Lord,orSir—and for the last three months, I’ve spent nearly every evening after work sneaking into Moth &Flame in increasingly elaborate costumes, entering through VIP Members’ discreet alleyway entrance reserved for their more affluent clients who prefer their predilections to remain private.As they should.
As unfathomable as it seems, I’m his onlypersonalclient. One evening, after yet another four-hour session, I tried to make a subtle comment by saying,“Thank you for spending so much time with me. I’m sure you’ve had a very busy day with your other clients.”To my surprise, Draven replied,“You’re the only client I personally host.”
Each evening, our sessions are booked for one hour, and yet, by the time I leave, several hours have passed. I am also certain we’ve crossed a great many professional boundaries over the last three months, but much to my dismay, mymasterhas yet to actuallyfuck me.Well, at least not with his cock. Or at least not the one attached to his body.
And while I have been on the receiving end of a very large, shadowy, lykos-shaped cock—bulging knot and all—I still haven’t gotten to experience the real thing.Much to my dismay.
Tonight, however, I will beg. If you thought grovelling was beneath me, you are very much mistaken. And while, admittedly, there isn’t anyone else in this realm I would get on my hands and knees for, there isn’t a thing in this dreary, lonely world Iwouldn’tdo forDaddy Draven Morainu.
Heaving a lovelorn sigh, I fix my gaze on the display screen where my singular photo of Draven lingers—a rather grainy image I managed to take myself when I’d just happened to catch him outside of his business. My mind travels to a time and place where I can escape my cursed fiancé, my foul family, and live a life beside Draven—if he’d have me.
My fantasizing is rudely cut short by an abrupt knock. My eyes reluctantly flick to the tall, blonde, slender silhouette I can see lurking beyond my office door: my sister.
Fuck.
HELLA
“Tell Lord Payne I don’t give a fuck what heassuresme of, I’m not interested, there’s nothing he can do to change my mind, and I hope he dies in a fucking fire.”
I didnotspend the last century ensuring Blackspire Blood Vaults has ethically sourced blood just to have Lord Fuckhole ruin it all by becoming a major shareholder.
My sister, Leif, scowls at me as one would a naughty child. “You’re being unreasonable.”
My jaw clenches with frustration. “Have you tasted the blood from his cryovaults? I cantastethe suffering. That male and his gods-forsaken enclave should be drawn and quartered in the Prime’s square.”
Leif pinches the bridge of her delicate nose. “You’re forgetting the fact that some peopleenjoythe taste of suffering.”
How could I fucking forget?
It’s at least half the reason why my fiancé, Alister, is so fucking horrible. Hewantsto taste the misery in my blood every time he drinks from me. Every emotion has a very specific taste, and negative emotions, like misery, pain, and fear, add certain notes to the bouquet of flavors.
In our modern society, it’s illegal to drink from someone without their consent. There are far too many people, not only humans, who would still be dwindling in population if our society’s morals and the Blackspire Empire’s legislation hadn’t evolved to protect theminori—those with little to no magic-wielding abilities.
Still, there are many people who crave the taste of fear and despair in blood. People like my fiancé.Akash damn him.
As if Leif can read my mind, she adds, “Like your fiancé.He’ll be furious if you decline Lord Payne’s offer. House of Payne is his favorite.”