Chapter 61

  For a moment, Gwen just stared at her visitor in puzzlement. Though it didn’t take her long to collect her wits. Nor was it particularly difficult for her to discern why the man had come looking for her.

  Alex Narcy smiled bashfully, waiting upon her threshold with the bubbling excitement of a pet finding its owner. Gwen couldn’t help but return a smile at Alex’s enthusiasm in meeting her and tilted her body in invitation to let him through.

  Alex jumped at the invite and shuffled in. Just as he passed by Gwen, her smile dimmed as she quickly searched the corridor for witnesses. She found none, but couldn’t be sure that Alex hadn’t been followed or that someone had spotted them together.

  It was a mistake on her part and not knowing only added to Gwen’s annoyance. There was no sense in crying over spilt milk, though she rued not having Thelma at her side. Her bodyguard would have prevented the messy encounter quite easily. Then again, Gwen didn’t want to be disturbed and hadn’t desired company to begin with. Alas, she had not anticipated such a complication to befall her.

  Speaking of complicated company, Gwen quickly but softly closed the door and attended to her visitor. Even with his back to her, Gwen could see Alex be a curious weasel in ferreting out what she had been up to. Greedy for clues and any insight he could steal.

  Gwen was unperturbed by the rudeness. Wizards always were the intrusive type and she wouldn’t blame Alex for trying to get a leg up at her expense. Not when she would just as well take a peek at the work of another wizard. Knowledge was power after all. It was valuable and only a fool would leave coins lying around and not expect to be robbed.

  And Gwen was no fool, which was why she had covered all traces of her work.

  As Alex’s curiosity lingered between the testing range and towards some paperwork on a desk close by, Gwen quietly walked up to him till they were inches apart.

  Feeling Gwen’s breath on his neck, Alex jerked and pivoted like a scared rabbit upon spotting a fox. At finding Gwen looming over him, he gulped and shivered, but didn’t back away. Rather, he seemed to become flustered and blushed like a virgin at a brothel.

  Gwen knew why Alex was so excitable. Alex’s predilections were no great secret after all. In fact, Gwen had made use of them more than once herself. So it was with a knowing eye that Gwen studied the diminutive man before her.

  The Narcys were a family of textile industrialists whose fortunes had been on the rise. And Alex Narcy was the third-born to patriarch Herbert Narcy and was every bit the stereotypical spoiled wastrel son born into wealth and privilege. The black sheep of the family. A shameless rake and loafer, the only redeeming quality of Alex Narcy was being aether blessed to be a wizard. As with most things concerning Alex, it was something he lucked into rather than something he deserved. A weak and lazy wizard at that, but a wizard nonetheless with the surname Narcy. It was the sole reason he was tolerated and endorsed by the family, in spite of being a constant stain to their reputation.

  All of which mattered little to Gwen as the porcelain man leaned on his tip toes to kiss her mouth.

  Alex had his eyes closed, but Gwen wasn’t as indulgent to his soft lips. To start with, at least. So close, she could easily discern Alex’s lavender perfume by his liberal use. The scent was called Lilac Silk, Gwen was sure of it as she owned a few vials herself.

  It didn’t surprise her a little that Alex wore women’s perfume. Or that he had his face done at a salon. Even his sky blue suit of silk with flowery accents was expected. As was his dyed blonde hair and the small fashionable braid.

  Finishing the kiss, Alex stepped back to hold Gwen’s hands in his and whispered, “I missed you.” Even his voice was more womanly than mannish.

  Playing along with their game, Gwen kept her expression in check and appeared dismissive. For all the foreplay, their relationship was a simple one.

  Gwen jerked her hand out of Alex’s grip to cup his cheek with her palm. Alex shivered at her taking charge and leaned into her touch.

  For what he was, Gwen mostly took Alex for what he offered. There was little else between them beyond being occasional lovers.

  Like the steps to an old dance they had danced before, Gwen’s hand slowly trailed down to rest on Alex’s collarbone, the skin exposed by the flared collar, tantalizingly close to his throat.

  Alex’s breathing quickened and Gwen could feel the skin beneath her hand turn warmer. She could almost feel Alex’s pulse quicken, watch his pupils dilate.

  The peculiar creature that he was, Alex Narcy played into his uniqueness. Made it a signature of his. He openly advertised his queerness where he became something an acquired taste in select circles of lechery.

  Alex had built an infamous reputation, that of a slut. A man-whore with a preference for fetish. A strutting adulterer, one who shamelessly advertised his perverseness for all to see. And counting herself amongst those indulgent in his kinks, Gwen had sampled him on occasion when she had craved for something different to her usual flings.

  In a similar vein to Alex’s many partners, likewise with Gwen, their relationship was strictly casual with no strings attached. Neither of them ventured beyond the intermittent dalliance or the occasional night of passion.

  Gwen inched her hand with prolonged slowness to clutch Alex’s throat. She didn’t squeeze, not yet, letting Alex whine in need. Letting the exquisite tension build.

  Gwen had to admit that Alex was a rare find, even for someone of her means as she perused the man in her clutches. Such a delicate thing, as feminine as one can get while having a cock. Pretty little thing too. So eagerly submissive, so eager to please. A pervert, a masochist craving pain in pleasure. Ruled by his desires, driven to serve and indulge.

  Alex was something different. Someone open to experiment, try new experiences and weird roleplay. A palate cleanser when she was in the mood for something exotic.

  Gwen was tempted. Oh, how much she was tempted!

  The past couple months she had been all work and no play. So much had happened and she had borne it all with a reluctant pragmatism because it was necessary. Contrary to her genuine self, she had been reserved, modest and boring. Hadn’t complained; certainly not as much as she could have! Her perfect life had been disrupted and she had been left feeling caged, stressed and frustrated for it. But she had played her part. And though the unpleasantness was somewhat behind her, she hadn’t let loose since.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Gwen felt no shame to admit that she was a woman of wants and needs. And she would vehemently add that she worked ten times harder than when she let loose. That as much as she enjoyed her vices, they came secondary to her passion in wizardry. Rather, Gwen used such distractions to pace herself and prevent burnout. Oddly enough, such liberties served as moderation for Gwen. They tempered and grounded her, distancing her away from obsessive tendencies about becoming more powerful and independent. They helped her vent and decompress, reminding her of the different things to partake and enjoy. As obscene as the habit might be, it helped Gwen cope with her responsibilities and expectations. To remain inspired and motivated to be her best self.

  Gwen strongly believed that she would suffer without her me-time. A weak excuse to some, perhaps, but Gwen wasn’t looking for an apology. Nor did she feel the need to change or defend her preferences.

  In light of it all, Alex was then proving to be quite the temptation for a randy Gwen who had been abstaining for months.

  But to no one’s surprise greater than her own, Gwen found herself being reasonable. Of all things, she found herself in a rare mood for restraint!

  There would be a time and there would be a place to slake her lust. But it wouldn’t be in the Academy with a notorious adulterer. As much as she was for taking risks and being a daredevil, she wouldn’t willingly leap into the trap.

  Still, Gwen knew how close she was to succumbing. On another day, things could have been so different.

  Mustering her control, Gwen uttered hoarsely, “Not now. Not today,” pushing Alex away. Even to her own ears she sounded unconvinced, like an addict fighting her compulsion.

  While Alex was visibly surprised at the denial, Gwen felt a little guilty at seeing the hurt of rejection flit across his face. Yet she needed to make it clear that today wasn’t the day that she would be tempted otherwise.

  “Why?” asked Alex, the sass returning quickly. “Don’t tell me it is because you are engaged?” he asked with heavy sarcasm.

  Gwen didn’t appreciate Alex’s tone, but allowed it. She didn’t want to escalate things, wanting Alex to leave as soon as possible where people could see that he was ‘not’ with her.

  “Too risky,” Gwen spelled it out bluntly.

  Alex scoffed with a palm in front of his mouth. “So? It would make things more interesting.”

  “Leave, Alex,” Gwen spoke curtly but not unkindly, hoping to take the bite out of her dismissal. Apparently, she was unsuccessful.

  “I might not return,” Alex sang playfully, a tease in his voice. Under the delusion that there was still a chance. “I find it so dreadfully prudish to abstain for a child of a husband. It is unlike you to be so revolting. Oh, shall we make a game of it? You, the repressed wife, a nymph relearning the forbidden pleasures?”

  Gwen didn’t take kindly to the wordplay and her goodwill evaporated in an instant. She didn’t say anything, only flicked her wrist for her wand to appear in her hand from its holster.

  True to nature, Alex was immediately cowed and scattered as if Gwen was set to release the hunting dogs on his heels.

  The brief encounter left a foul taste. Gwen spat at the ground to get the taste of him out of her. She felt like needing a bath at the thought of being involved with such a pathetic weakling. Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking straight. It was becoming transparent that Alex Narcy had been a mistake.

  But what irritated her most where his parting words. As much as she didn’t want to admit, she felt that there was some truth to Alex’s spiteful taunts.

  Thoughts and ideas are insidious things. For once they get a hold of you, they are impossible to ignore.

  For the next few days, Gwen grew increasingly irritated at the notion that she was being compelled to obey. Willful person that she was, that she was told to do so something made Gwen all the more belligerent to do otherwise.

  While Alex’s words were spoken flippantly, without care or forethought, Gwen heard a ring of truth to them and she couldn’t get the insinuation out of her head. Any time she was not busy, when she was lost to her thoughts, all she could think about was how she was being forced to behave.

  It was a mark against Gwen’s pride that she was denied something, forced to give up something that was hers. That she hadn’t put up a fight against it. It wasn’t so simple that she was desperate for a tumble in the sheets. It was the fact that people had forced rules upon her and she had bowed to them that got her craw.

  Who were they to tell her what to do? It was her body. Hers to do with as she damn well pleased.

  And what’s to happen tomorrow when they demanded something else of her? Would she play the meek kitten and roll over her belly? And where would it stop? What’s one more link to tighten her chain? Give it long enough and she would grow accustomed to the weight of her bonds.

  Compromise and give them a foothold, and they will have her on all fours soon enough.

  Gwen would rather die than become such a despicable creature. A slave.

  No!

  No one told Gwen Croft what to do. No one lorded over her. No one denied her. She wanted what she wanted and she would have what she wanted.

  As much as it felt like a tantrum, Gwen saw it as a mark in the sand. A line she wouldn’t cross. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be true to herself and she didn’t want to be anyone other than Gwen Croft.

  Yet, she wasn’t an imbecile. There was being prideful and there was being self-destructive. Afterall, it wouldn’t be difficult for Gwen to have her cake and eat it. She just had to be sensible about it. Bend the rules, not break them. There was no need to create a mess when she didn’t need to.

  One late evening saw a dark carriage discreetly depart from Croft Manor. It didn’t bear any colors or sigils, nor any identifying marks. More so, it was fitted purposefully to appear mundane and blend in the traffic of the Capitol.

  The anonymous carriage made for one of the nobler districts and gained entry to the Bestfellow Estate. The aristocrats Bestfellows who were prominently known for their theatres and art galleries across Ithica.

  Oddly, the carriage didn’t go for the main entrance or the stables, but made for a small orchard. Hidden whereupon was a warehouse like building patrolled by guards.

  The gates of the building were opened and ready for the carriage to pass through without inspection. The protocol of secrecy had been observed and executed by wizards as soon as the carriage had entered the estate.

  Indoors, the carriage didn’t halt its journey. Rather, the carriage descended into an underground tunnel with paved roads, a stone roof and lit lamps at regular intervals.

  Another quarter of an hour’s travel though the quietly monotonous tunnels had the carriage begin to ascend. The incline levelled out to emerge into a stone chamber with marbled columns leading outdoors into another, different, orchard.

  A minute later and the carriage exited the tree line to a picturesque landscape.

  To the backdrop of a clear starry sky, enveloped by pristine gardens, was a beautiful three storey manor with pink walls, a cream roof, with white marble accents and shiny red curtained windows. The pathways themselves were manned by risqué statues and bubbling fountains with nude depictions.

  Coming to stop in front of the entrance, the driver of the carriage stepped down to open the door and bowed out, keeping his eyes to the ground.

  Gwen disembarked, wearing a flowing gown and a masquerade mask with a veil.

  Upon the steps awaited the proprietress in her very own mask and dressed to impress.

  “Welcome to the Velvet Manor, Miss Red,” the Madame greeted huskily with a bow, addressing Gwen by her pseudonym.

  “A pleasure, Madame Velvet,” Gwen returned the greeting.

  The Madame looped Gwen’s arm and led her up the stairs, indulging in polite small talk. Being a regular, Gwen had come to appreciate a more casual correspondence with the Madame. Ever the chameleon, the Madame catered to the preference of her patrons and reciprocated their bespoke wants and needs expertly.

  Nothing but the best at the Velvet Manor, the most exclusive pleasure house in all of Ithica.

  The doors opened to induct them into a most lavish hall with balconies and a flowing central staircase. Debauchery and perfume were in the air. Laughter and sensual moans sang with the music, emanating from the very walls.

  The festivities were in full flow with a full crowd of patrons, all in their masks and disguises. A bold few disposed of the allure of aliases and partook without such roleplay. Gambling, cuisine, drinking, all the vices were on show. But they all played second fiddle to the true attraction.

  Displayed upon the staircase and mingling amongst the crowd were the selection. Akin to an altar of lust and decadence, about a hundred or so of the most beautiful men and women. Scantily dressed or forgoing clothes all together, in all variations of appearances and traits that one could be tempted with.

  The Velvet Manor would be getting a lot coin that evening. They always did. Even more so on the day, for Gwen’s appetite was particularly voracious.