"Hurry up, girlfriend," Marge said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Your client is waiting in the lounge."
I nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. "What's she like?"
Marge gave me a look that was half-amused, half-serious. "She's a high roller," she says, her tone dropping slightly. "She's got a reputation for being a bit… demanding. So be on your best behavior. And don't keep her waiting any longer."
I took a deep breath and stepped out of my room, feeling the air hit my barely covered skin.
As I walked down the hall toward the lounge, my mind raced. I saw her almost immediately. She stood out in the room with her long, deep black hair, framing her face with a confident, edgy flair. She wore a short silk dress that clung to her figure, accentuating her every curve. The deep burgundy fabric caught the soft lighting, and I could tell it was as expensive as her whole demeanor suggested. Her heels—designer, no doubt—completed the look, showcasing her long legs with their delicate straps and sharp, sexy lines.
She caught my gaze lingering on her shoes and smirked. "You like them?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. She turned her ankle slightly, giving me a better view of the delicate straps and the razor-thin heel. "I had them custom-made. Worth every penny, wouldn't you agree?"
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away. "They're beautiful," I admitted, feeling a flush rise in my cheeks. There's something about the way she carried herself—so self-assured, so utterly in control.
Marge introduced her, "Lux, this is Evelyn."
Evelyn stepped closer, her perfume—a blend of jasmine and musk—filled the space between us. She reached out and trailed a finger along the strap of my lingerie, the silk of her dress brushing against my skin. "Let's see if you're as stunning out of this as you are in it," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. Her touch light but purposeful. "Aspen certainly has a good eye," she murmured, almost to herself. Then, her gaze lifted back to mine, and her expression shifted to one of intent. "But let's see if Oliver's instincts about you were right"
Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she surveyed me. "So," she teased, her voice dripping with playful challenge, "are you going to keep me waiting out here, or are you going to show me back to your room?"
Her tone was light, but there was an undeniable edge to her words, a hint of expectation that made my heart race.
I took her hand, trying to walk with a blend of seduction and purpose, guiding her toward my room. Her grip was firm, and I could feel the weight of her authority in every step we took.
As we approached the door, sheleaned in slightly, her voice low but commanding. "I should let you know," she said, her tone leaving no room for doubt, "I like to be in charge. I expect you to do as I say."
Her words were clear, a promise of control and dominance. I nodded, trying to mask any nervousness with a confident smile. "Understood," I replied, opening the door to my room and leading her inside.
As I guided her into the space, a realization hit me with a jolt. Oliver wasn't just sending clients my way at random—he was orchestrating this entire process, using them to challenge and break down my need for control. It was becoming clear that this is all part of his game, a way to mold me into something he desired.
Oliver was testing me, pushing my boundaries to see how far I was willing to go. And while part of me wanted to resist, another part was willing to play along, to embrace his game if it meant I might have a chance to be with him.
Evelyn's voice was firm as she directed me to sit on the edge of the bed, my legs closed and hands resting on my lap. I complied. I watched as she moved to the drawer of toys, her movements deliberate and calculated.
She pulled out a flogger, its leather tails hanging softly. Her eyes met mine with a spark of anticipation. With a delicate touch, she caressed my face with the flogger, the cool leather sending a shiver down my spine. Then, without warning, she smacked me gently across the cheek. The sting is sharp but not unbearable, a sudden jolt that snapped me fully into the moment.
I looked up at her, meeting her gaze with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Her voice was commanding as she looked at me with an air of authority. "Take off your clothes," she instructed.
I dropped each piece thoughtfully onto the floor, standing before her in my bare skin. Her gaze unwavering, scrutinizing every inch of me with a mix of appreciation and dominance. I tried to maintain my composure, knowing that every action, every look, was part of the intricate dance of power and submission that Oliver had set in motion.
She walked around me with a deliberate grace before settling onto the purple daybed. Her presence was commanding, and I felt her eyes on me as she gestured for me to come closer.
"Turn around and straddle my lap," she instructed, her voice firm yet calm.
I did as she said, positioning myself carefully. The soft velvet of the daybed brushed against my skin as I settled onto her lap. I felt her hand, gentle but deliberate, slide between my legs, her fingers exploring with confidence. When her fingers slid inside me, a gasp escaped my lips, followed by a soft, involuntary moan. The cool, deliberate motion sent shivers through my body, igniting a heat I hadn't expected. I clung to her as she moved with an unerring precision that left me trembling.
"Move with me," Evelyn commanded, her voice low and authoritative.
The Nebula still hummed in my veins, making my senses sharper than usual. Each shift of my hips sending sparks of pleasure through me. In one hand, Evelyn held a small flogger, and as I moan, she brought it down gently against my face—a surprising sting that contrasts sharply with the pleasure building inside me.
Her grip tightened on my hip as she whispered, "Faster."
I increased my pace, the sensation intensifying with each movement. Every sound I made was met with another gentle strike, a careful balance of pain and pleasure that left me trembling.
"Not a sound unless I say," she added, her tone leaving no room for disobedience.
I bit my lip, stifling my moans as I followed her rhythm, my body straining under the heightened sensations. Evert nerve was alive and burning with the Nebula's influence.
Just as I thought I might lose control, Evelyn pulled away, leaving me hanging in the unbearable tension between need and release. I gasped at the sudden loss, my body aching for more.
"You'll wait until I give permission," she said, her voice calm but commanding, her fingers just out of reach, teasing me further.
She gestured for me to lick her fingers, and without hesitation, I complied, tasting myself as I ran my tongue over her skin.
Then, with a swift movement, she slapped my face—not hard, but enough to jolt me back to the moment, my skin tingling from the impact. My need was overwhelming, but I held still, waiting for her next move, her next word.
She grabbed my chin, pulling me closer, our faces inches apart. Her eyes dark and intense as she whispered, "I've heard you're a bit wild. Is that true?" Her words hung in the air. Something inside me stirred, a mix of defiance and submission. This was part of the game Oliver set in motion.
When she told me to lie down, I did so without question. I watched as she undressed. Her confidence was magnetic and I couldn't look away.
She climbed onto the bed with an easy grace, positioning herself directly over my face. Her voice was low and commanding as she instructed me, each word dripping with authority. I obeyed without hesitation, my breath quickening as she shifted above me, her movements deliberate and controlled. She guided me through every motion, taking complete control, and I followed her lead, eager to please and powerless to resist the intensity of her presence.
Tentatively at first, I let my tongue trace along her folds, exploring her with slow, deliberate strokes. Her soft gasps encouraged me, and I grew bolder, swirling my tongue over her clit, feeling the way her body reacted to every graze and press. I alternated between firm, focused pressure and teasing, lighter movements, seeking out the rhythm that made her hips roll above me. Her taste, her scent—it was overwhelming, intoxicating, and I found myself lost in the act, desperate to elicit more of those breathy moans that spilled from her lips.
I had no idea what I was doing, and the uncertainty twisted in my stomach, but I followed Evelyn's instructions, clinging to her every word. With every gasp and sigh she gave, I hoped I was doing it well, that I was giving her what she wanted.
Her moans grew louder, her movements more urgent, and I knew she was close. I stayed focused, doing everything she demanded, waiting for the moment when she finally reached her climax.
Her back arched suddenly, her thighs quivering against my face as a sharp cry tore from her lips. The intensity of her climax surged through her, every tremor and shudder a testament to the pleasure I'd given her. Her fingers briefly found my hair, clutching gently, as if grounding herself through the overwhelming waves that coursed over her.
I didn't stop, letting my tongue work through the final throes of her release, savoring the way her body quaked above me. A surge of pride swelled in my chest—an unfamiliar, unexpected feeling. I'd done this. I'd brought her to this point, followed her commands, and delivered what she'd wanted. It wasn't just obedience—it was power, in its own way.
She moved off of my face, her body pressing lightly against mine. Her fingers gripped my chin as she leaned in, licking the remnants of her pleasure from my skin. The intimacy of the gesture took me by surprise, even as her gaze locked mine.
"Now," she asked, her voice soft but teasing, "do you think you've earned your release?"
Before I could answer, her fingers slipped inside me again, her touch skilled and deliberate. I gasped as my body immediately responded, a wave of pleasure building with every movement. Her fingers explored me with precision, finding places I hadn't even realized could feel this good. Each stroke sent sparks racing through me, the effects of the Nebula amplifying every sensation to a fever pitch.
I felt her lean in, her breath warm against my neck as she whispered, "You'll have to convince me."
The words made my pulse race. My hands gripped the sheets as I struggled to find control, my body aching for release. "Yes, please," I whispered, my voice trembling with need as I met her gaze. The intensity in her eyes was hypnotic, her dominance both terrifying and exhilarating.
She didn't stop, her rhythm steady and unrelenting. Her thumb teased me in tandem, her movements calculated to push me higher and higher. I arched toward her, unable to hold back the moans spilling from my lips. It was like she knew exactly what I needed, every touch sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through me.
"Look at you," she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "So desperate, so eager. You'll break for me, won't you?"
Her words pushed me closer to the edge, my entire body tightening as the sensation built to an unbearable peak. My breath came in short gasps, and I felt the tension coil deep within me, ready to snap.
When I finally reached my climax, it crashed over me with a force I wasn't prepared for. My body trembled violently, each wave of release overwhelming my senses. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before—intense, raw, and all-consuming. My vision blurred, my mind emptied, and for a moment, there was nothing but the feeling of her touch, the power she held over me.
As I came down from the high, my chest heaving, I felt her fingers linger, her touch soothing now, almost reverent. She leaned back slightly, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she studied me. "Good girl," she said softly.
Those words settled deep in my chest, igniting something I hadn't realized was there. Being someone's good girl—earning their approval—was a pleasure I'd never allowed myself to crave, yet it washed over me now, warm and undeniable. The way she said it, firm yet affectionate, stirred something deeper than just the physical.
It reminded me of Oliver, of the way he'd said those same words, his voice carrying the weight of authority and desire. The thought sent a jolt through me. Was Evelyn training me, too? Preparing me to be his good girl, shaping me into something Oliver would appreciate, control, command? The idea was as unsettling as it was thrilling, and I couldn't shake it.
I laid there, spent and vulnerable, the Nebula's lingering effects enhancing the warmth of her approval. It was dangerous—how easily she could unravel me—but in that moment, I didn't care
She moved with grace, grabbing a towel and cleaning herself off. Her movements were calm, controlled—clearly experienced in the routines of the room.
She tossed a small towel towards me. "Clean yourself up," she said with a tone of authority, her gaze still holding a trace of satisfaction. I quickly reached for the towel, using it to wipe away the traces of our encounter. She watched me, her expression one of both dominance and approval.
She sat beside me, her touch surprisingly gentle as she caressed my leg. Her other hand skillfully lit a joint, the faint aroma of smoke began to fill the air. She held it out to me, a subtle invitation.
"Care for a hit?" she offered with a relaxed, almost playful smile. I accepted gratefully, taking the joint from her. As I inhaled, the smoke swirled around us, adding a hazy, mellow quality to the already intimate moment.
I passed the joint back to her as I relaxed even further into my own haze.
She leaned back, taking a slow drag from the joint. Her eyes held a knowing glint as she started speaking.
"I've been a client here for a while," she said, her tone smooth and casual. "I know Oliver well. And I have to say, the fact that he's given you such special treatment means he's got his eye on you. He doesn't usually go out of his way for just anyone."
She took another puff, her gaze steady. "But don't get too comfortable. He runs a tight ship. He knows how to make this place work, and if the price is right, anyone could walk through that door. You might not always get clients who are as perfectly handpicked."
Her words hung in the air, a reminder that even within this strange and controlled environment, the rules of business still apply.
I took another drag from the joint, savoring the calming effects as I looked at Evelyn. "Can you tell me more about him?"
She exhaled a cloud of smoke, her expression thoughtful. "Oliver's a tough one to crack. He's quite secretive and elusive. He's worked incredibly hard to get to where he is now. He's not someone who takes risks with his position in the Vault. He's built his reputation and his empire with careful precision."
She looked at me with a hint of admiration. "He knows exactly what he's doing, and he's not about to jeopardize it. So, if you're looking for inside information or a way to get closer to him, just know that he doesn't let his guard down easily. He's as calculated as they come."
Evelyn took one last drag from the joint, then leaned in and gave me an intense, lingering kiss. Her lips were warm and firm against mine, and the taste of the joint lingered on her breath. When she pulled away, she slid her silk dress back on, the fabric whispering as it moved.
Before she headed for the door, she looked back at me with a knowing smile. "When it comes to pleasing women," she said, her voice low and confident, "practice makes perfect."
With that, she exited, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering effects of our encounter.
I considered hitting the shower again to rinse off the lingering traces of our session. But the idea of walking around and potentially meeting other debtors intrigued me more. I slipped on a robe, letting it fall loosely around me. The soft fabric felt comforting against my skin as I stepped out into the hallway.
Maybe I'd find someone interesting to talk to or get a sense of the other lives intertwined in this place. The robe swished gently with each step I took.
As I wandered through the hallways, I caught sight of Oliver engaged in a conversation with Marge. My curiosity got the better of me, and I instinctively ducked behind a nearby wall, straining to hear their conversation.
I pressed my back against the cool surface and peeked around the corner. Oliver's tone was authoritative, and Marge's responses were short and attentive. I couldn't make out the exact words, but I caught snippets of their discussion—something about upcoming schedules and client preferences.
The tension between them was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder what details they were discussing. The conversation felt like a glimpse behind the curtain of the Isles, revealing a side of Oliver I didn't usually see.
As I strained to catch more of Oliver and Marge's conversation, the conversation went quiet. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around to see Oliver grinning at me with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Keeping me on my toes, are we?" he teased, his voice low and playful. "You aren't obsessed with me, are you? What shall we do about that?"
Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand, his grip firm yet gentle. I was taken by surprise as he started leading me back toward my room. His playful tone continued, "I guess your punishment for being so nosy is being stuck in your room for a while."
As we reached my door, he pulled me close and pressed a Nebula tablet onto his tongue. Leaning in, he captured my lips with his, his tongue sliding against mine, sharing the drug with an intimacy that left me yearning for more. The sensation immediately ignited a fire inside me.
He finally pulled away, leaving me breathless and tingling from the contact. "Be a good girl," he whispered with a smirk, "and maybe I'll let you out of your room later."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there.
My mind raced and my body burned with the lingering heat of Oliver and the Nebula.
As the Nebula took hold of me again, the high from the earlier dose still lingered in my system, it felt as though the two were merging, pushing me to an even higher state of euphoria. My room started to spin gently, and a wave of tingling warmth enveloped my entire body, stronger than before. The sensation was so intense, it felt almost otherworldly, as if I was floating between reality and some distant, vivid dream. Everything around me looked sharper, more mesmerizing, like the colors were dancing just for me.
Yet beneath the beauty, I could feel the drug's grip tightening, blending the pleasure with a sense of being trapped, a prisoner to its powerful pull. I finally understood why people warned me about Nebula—it was intoxicating, consuming, and impossible to resist.
Desperate to escape the confines of my room, I ignored Oliver's earlier instructions and stepped outside. The hallways seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly beauty, every surface glowing with an almost ethereal light. My heart raced with a desire to find someone, anyone, who could offer me a sense of closeness, a touch of familiarity. I gazed around for Leo, my only known friend in this place. Even a client's attention would be welcome at this point.
I wandered through the showers, my senses overwhelmed by the sight of people bathing and mingling. I felt an urgent need to connect with someone, to share this heightened state of sensation. The Nebula had completely taken over my sense of control.
A girl walked past me, her gaze penetrating. "I can see it in your eyes," she said softly. "What you're looking for, you won't find in here."
Before I could fully grasp her words, she grabbed my hand and led me toward a slightly hidden door. Her touch was electric, and the pull of her presence was irresistible. My words came out slowly and disoriented. "Where… where are you taking me?"
She laughed softly, her voice soothing in my Nebula-fueled haze. "Don't ask questions. Just go with it."
She opened the door to a darkened room, illuminated only by the flickering light of candles. The air was thick with the smell of incense and the sound of moaning. Inside, several people were engaged in an orgy, their bodies entwined in a passionate display of desire.
Confused and fascinated, I asked, "Why don't they just do this in their rooms?"
The girl's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and understanding. "The taboo of the Back Room keeps us away from the eyes of clients. It gives us a sense of autonomy, a place where we can indulge without the constraints."
The revelation sunk in as I took in the scene around me, my body buzzing with the effects of the Nebula. The room felt like a sanctuary of freedom and pleasure, a place where the boundaries of control and desire blurred into one intoxicating experience.
I hesitated at the threshold, my usual reservations clashing with the seductive pull of the Nebula. The casual, uninhibited display of sex felt foreign to me, a contrast to the way I had envisioned my time here. I had come to work off a debt and, more importantly, to get closer to Oliver. But the Nebula's influence was drawing me into a realm of desires I hadn't anticipated.
My mind struggled to focus, and I turned to the girl beside me, her presence almost magnetic. "What's your name?" I manage to ask, my words feeling sluggish and distant.
She offered a reassuring smile, her voice warm and friendly. "I'm Shyla," she says. "And you?"
"Lux," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. The room seemed to pulsate with the intensity of the drug, making everything feel dreamlike and distant. "I… I didn't expect this."
Shyla nodded, understanding in her eyes. "It's easy to get swept up in the moment here." She gestured towards the room. "If you're feeling unsure, just take it slow. This place is about exploration and freedom. There's no rush."
Her words drifted over me, soothing and grounding. Even as the Nebula continued to twist my perceptions, Shyla's presence felt like a lifeline, guiding me through this overwhelming experience. I took a deep breath, trying to anchor myself in the present moment. Maybe exploring this unexpected side of the Isles is just another part of my journey.
A tall, strikingly handsome man approached with an aura of confidence and magnetism. His skin a deep, rich ebony, glowing under the soft light of the candles. His features were chiseled and defined, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that gave him an almost regal appearance. His eyes were a piercing, intense shade of brown, gleaming with an enigmatic allure that pulled me in. His full lips curved into a knowing smile, and his muscular physique was breathtaking. His presence alone is enough to stir something deep within me. Without hesitation, he took my hand, his touch sending my mind into another dimension.
With a smooth, deliberate motion, he slid my robe off, the fabric brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. The sensation of the robe falling away felt like a release. His body pressed against mine, and we swayed side to side, as if we were dancing to a rhythm only we could hear. Every movement was exhilarating, the feeling almost ticklish against my hypersensitive skin.
The warmth of his breath against my neck made me shiver. I was so lost in the intensity of the moment, the music playing in my mind, that words escaped me. All I could focus on was the way his erection pressed against my stomach, stirring a mix of anticipation and surrender.
His kisses trailed down my neck, each touch drawing me deeper into his embrace. The Nebula's effects only amplified the sensation, making everything feel more vibrant and urgent. In his arms, I surrendered to the charged current running through my body, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.
I ran my hands over his chest, savoring the sensation of his smooth skin and defined muscles beneath my fingertips. He lifted me effortlessly, pressing my body against the wall. As he eased me down onto his erection, the feeling of him inside me was a wave of relief, washing over every inch of my body. The Nebula's effects make everything more vivid, more intense, and I felt as if I'd lost touch with who I was before.
His slow, deliberate thrusts sent tremors of pleasure through me, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him. My eyes fluttered open, and I noticed another man behind him. He was incredibly handsome, his chest pressing against this man's back. The sight and sensation of the two men moving together heightened the intensity of the moment
I heard him moan of pleasure as this mysterious man penetrated him from behind. The three of us became a fluid, synchronized movement, each thrust and touch amplified the pleasure coursing through me. The connection between us felt almost primal, the boundaries between our bodies blurring into a haze.
The pleasure was so extreme that it bordered on panic, leaving me gasping for breath. I felt completely lost in the moment, the boundaries of my own self fading as the drug took control.
His thrusts became more urgent, and his breath quickened as he neared climax. As we all moved together in perfect sync, the intensity of the moment reached its peak. When he finally let go, we all rested against each other, our bodies entangled in a web of pleasure and exhaustion.
As he gently lowered me back to the floor, he turned around to share a tender kiss with the man who'd been behind him. Their connection was intimate and effortless. Shyla watched with a knowing smile; her eyes bright with curiosity.
She leaned in closer and asks, "Did you find what you were looking for?"
I blushed, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me. The drug's effect made my desires so apparent, so raw. I couldn't help but feel a bit exposed, my reactions all too predictable. My cheeks flushed as I tried to find the right words.
Shyla stepped closer; her voice gentle but firm. "You might want to find some rest. The come down from Nebula can be pretty intense sometimes."
Her words made sense, and though I was reluctant to leave the scene around me, the idea of finding a place to calm down felt like the right move. I nodded, trying to steady myself as I made my way back, my body still tingling with the after-effects of the drug.
I stumbled back to my room, each step feeling like a slow-motion blur. Even with the Nebula coursing through my veins, I was exhausted. My body ached in ways I hadn't anticipated—pleasant but foreign—and I realized I'd never derived pleasure like that from sexual encounters before, let alone in such a short span of time. A dull soreness crept into my muscles, a reminder of just how much I'd pushed myself tonight.
As I collapsed onto the daybed, the plush blanket soft against my skin, I let out a sigh of relief. My mind buzzed with fragmented memories of the night, but my body begged for rest. I decided then and there I needed to slow down, if only for a little while. Pulling the blanket over me, I settled into the comforting embrace of the bed, closing my eyes and letting sleep claim me, even as my thoughts swirled in the haze of Nebula and exhaustion.
Suddenly, a gentle tapping at my window pulled me from my slumber. My eyes fluttered open, and I saw Marge standing outside, a curious look on her face. The room was dim, the effects of the Nebula still lingering in my body.
I scrambled out of bed, still groggy, and opened the door. "What is it?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep.
Marge's eyes were sharp and full of purpose.
I glanced at the clock, noticing it was 7 a.m. The early hour felt jarring after the intense night I had. Marge's presence was a sudden reminder that the world outside my room hadn't stopped moving.