Party Trick By Master Nage
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Party Trick By Master Nage
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Party Trick Copyright © 2004 Master Nage Cover art by dana L. Cover layout by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.Extasybooks.com
Dedication: For all those shrouded in darkness, who have yet to figure out where they keep the candles.
Party Trick
* * **
F
or Ilya Fortis, the fifteenth of January had always been a special day, but in recent years the occasion didn’t bring him the joy it once had. Nor did the trend show any sign of reversal. It was not only his birthday, but his fortieth and he was out shopping for the perfect gift. Had anyone cared enough to buy him one, he wouldn’t have been saddled with the problem. So he found himself in Easy Money, a local tavern, beer in hand, watching the womenfolk and wondering if he could afford any of them. Not that Ilya would have considered paying a prostitute. That was against his code of ethics. He’d said it many times, when he was young and people still occasionally cared enough to listen—“Never pay cash for sex. It doesn’t matter that you’ll pay more for free sex than any call girl would think to charge, but you’ll never have an ounce of self-respect if you do it the easy way”—which had pretty much been his motto in all things. Never do anything the easy way when you can fuck yourself up completely and get hurt in the process. For forty years he’d lived that way and he was growing tired of it, yet a strong prideful ego wouldn’t let him go back on his own advice, even if he could no longer afford the tab. The girls that night were like most others. Too young, too rich, too full of themselves or just plain too. Ilya had once been too too, but that was too long ago to remember with any clarity, which was too bad.
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Master Nage Forty years old, well-to-do, but alone...always alone. They were right when they said money can’t buy happiness though it had been too late in his life before he’d believed. So he watched and waited, but it looked like once again he would be celebrating his birthday alone. He was about to give up, too inured to failure to even be depressed, when she entered from the January night. Though he knew from first glance she was out of his league, he was also aware she was different from the others. For one thing, she wore a sapphire blue evening gown that almost brushed the floor and showed virtually no cleavage, while leaving no doubt she could have, had she so desired. Her hair was blond or light brown, depending on the light or the number of beers he’d consumed. Her eyes were dark, at least from that distance, but her skin was the color of the kind of snow you never see in New York City—the only snow he’d seen in recent memory. Even the omnipresent gray cigarette smoke couldn’t obscure her brightness. She slid to the bar, at least it looked that way for her feet weren’t visible, and sat on one of the stools that lined its length. She’d chosen to sit on her own, leaving an opening on either side. Ilya had long ago learned the dangers of grasping for something he could never have, so he sat and watched, waiting for the dominant males to make their approach. Five minutes...ten. Nothing. She sat alone, a colorful drink before her illuminating the bar like a lighthouse beacon, as if her aura were so strong, she inadvertently lent power to the glass before her. If
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Party Trick anyone else noticed they showed no sign, and soon Ilya knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t at least say hello. By the time his glass was empty he’d left his last excuse behind. He rose slowly, from caution rather than inebriation. A couple of people looked up at him, realized he didn’t matter, and returned to their whispered conversations. Ilya didn’t care. He was used to it. He was too old for the bar scene, too young for the grave and there seemed to be little between. His own trip to the bar more resembled the passage of a tugboat. The thought left him feeling even more out of his depth. By the time he took the seat beside her, he’d prepared himself for the sinking, but it didn’t happen right away. Her shy smile encouraged him, though it was short lived. At least she hadn’t ignored him. He couldn’t have taken that. Not tonight. He ordered another beer. While waiting for it to arrive he turned to her and spoke in a voice he hoped was confident, but was probably just loud. “Are you alone?” She didn’t face him, but toyed with the red umbrella poking from her frozen drink. “I don’t know. Do you enter into the equation somehow?” Ilya had become so used to his nonentity status, the question caught him off guard. “I guess that depends on what you’re looking for.” She sighed and it was the saddest sound he’d ever heard. “I’m not certain it matters anymore. It’s what I find that counts, or what finds me.”
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Master Nage His beer arrived but he didn’t reach for it. The conversation was the longest he’d had with a woman in months, and it encouraged and bewildered him. “Tonight, I’ve found you.” “Should I count myself among the lucky?” “The night is still a bit young for it to be a certainty, but I wouldn’t discount the possibility.” She did turn to him then and looked him up and down, which would be, he knew, the end of the conversation. Fifteen years ago he’d been handsome, ten years ago good-looking, five years ago attractive. These days he was overweight by at least forty pounds and his brown hair— too long in the back, too thin in the front—lacked the same luster as his life. His brown eyes had been dulled by years of wanting, and his beard, freshly trimmed, was more gray than brown. His nose was too large for his face, and he hadn’t smiled enough recently to remember what his teeth looked like. His leather jacket was as worn as his visage and, though his blue shirt was a bit worse for the wear, his blue jeans were new, a necessity born of weight gain. He almost stood up and left before she broke the news to him. Another rejection he couldn’t handle. To his astonishment she smiled again. It struck him like a physical blow. Ilya reeled. He lifted his beer and took a swig to hide his reaction. By the time he placed it back on the bar, she’d turned back to her own drink. “Do you know the worst thing about bars?” she asked. Ilya thought he did but didn’t want to name it.
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Party Trick “Tell me.” “You can never meet someone at a bar without suspecting their motives.” He wanted to cry. His only motive was loneliness, and he knew then she’d never believe it. “Does everyone have to have a motive?” “Of course, even if they don’t know it themselves. Do you know yours?” “How can I tell?” “Then you don’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t know much of anything anymore. Only that the nights seem longer, the sun seems further from the Earth even in summer, and the past is fraught with peril for those who would face it.” She looked startled then laughed, a brittle sound belying the vibrant colors she seemed to radiate. Ilya looked around but he was the only one close enough to notice. “You sound like I feel.” “Lonely?” He couldn’t believe someone like her could resemble him in any way. “Yes. By the way, I’m Ilya.” “Of course you are.” “Won’t you do the honor of giving me your name?” “Not yet. I want to know more about you first.” “What do you want to know?” “I don’t know. Why are you here?” “It’s my birthday.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Ilya. I’m guessing it hasn’t been
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Master Nage a happy one.” Were any of them? “I guess not.” “Let’s go to a party.” “A party?” “Sure, it’s your birthday. Let’s go to a party.” He shook himself, looked at his mug and realized it was empty. When had that happened? “I don’t know of any parties tonight.” “I do. Would you come with me?” Warning bells flared in his mind but another look at her silenced them. He didn’t have much money on him anyway so what did he have to lose? His life? Who would miss him? “Sure.” She smiled and stood. She moved to pay the bill, but he was faster and she looked at him reproachfully. “That wasn’t necessary, Ilya.” “I wanted to.” “We don’t know each other that well.” “That’s true. I don’t even know your name.” “Do you mind?” “I don’t know. Should I?” “What is a name anyway? My parents gave me my name, I didn’t pick it. I don’t like it. I won’t use it. Why don’t you name me?” “Crystal.” He’d said it without a second thought, for she was like that—fragile, beautiful and perfect. She looked stunned “How did you know? Did my parents send you?” “No... of course not.” She shook her head as if in disbelief. “Are you
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Party Trick psychic?” “Not that I know of.” She regarded him skeptically before taking his arm. “If I find out you’re here to keep an eye on me, I’m going to be very pissed off.” He didn’t answer. The name had just popped into his head. Perhaps there was a connection between them that transcended this reality, though he doubted it. He’d read about such relationships but had never seen evidence they existed. She guided him into the cold night air, which did little to sober him. It was as if he’d stepped into a dream. On the street he was self-conscious, for it had been years since he’d accompanied anyone like Crystal in public. He’d often looked at incompatible couples, an older guy and younger woman, and wondered how it was possible. He wondered if people would think he was her father. How old was she anyway? She couldn’t be more than twenty-five. She might even be twenty. He’d never been good at guessing women’s ages, but surely she had to be legal. The thought chilled him and he considered her again. A gentleman wouldn’t ask her age, but he wasn’t going to go to jail for stupidity. “You’re... ummm legal, aren’t you?” He hoped the question wouldn’t upset her, but until he found out he wouldn’t be able to relax. She tilted her head and laughed. “I’m older than I look.” “Oh.” He didn’t ask and she didn’t volunteer further information.
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Master Nage She led him to a building a short distance away. It was five-stories, prewar, brick, probably rentstabilized. There was nothing about it that stood out, except for the fire escapes, which were rather too prominent. Still, there was nothing about the building to make him suspect anything odd. “I’m not dressed for a party.” Crystal shrugged. “And I’m overdressed, so between us we’ll fit in perfectly.” He tried to find a flaw in her logic and when he couldn’t, realized he’d probably had one beer too many. Still, he was happy he wasn’t on his way back to his own place to spend another night alone. He had little doubt he’d end up there, but the novelty of the encounter continued to hold him in its spell. She pressed an intercom buzzer before he could see which. The door buzzed and he pushed it open. The lobby smelled of stale smoke, which wasn’t uncommon, and could have used a paint job, which was common enough. There was no elevator, but he hadn’t expected one— not in a building this old. The party was on the fourth floor. This meant wheezing for him and waiting for her, but considering the age difference that was to be expected. Under normal circumstances Ilya would have been more than happy to watch an ass like that from behind, but between his labored breathing and the pain in his legs, he couldn’t give the extraordinary sight the attention it deserved. Of course, his third leg wasn’t suffering from the climb and as such, began a climb of its own. The thought caused him to break into irrational laughter before they reached their
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Party Trick destination. Another flight and more pain put a lid on his amusement. By the time they reached the fourth floor, he could barely stand—even his hard-on was a shadow of its former self—and so he was forced to rest before continuing across the landing. Down the hallway an eye stared through a half-open door, no doubt wondering who he was. He wasn’t certain whether Crystal lived in the building or just knew people there. In either case, he was self-conscious all over again. The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. An odder bunch of people he couldn’t imagine. There was something disturbing about the scene Ilya couldn’t quite fathom, and the harder he tried the less sure he was anything was wrong. He didn’t get to many parties these days and perhaps any would have seemed strange. The music was loud and from the seventies; some disco, some pop. Ilya had always liked that music and remembered most of it. Most of the revelers were too young to know any of the songs, but since retro was in (many were wearing platform shoes and even bellbottoms), he couldn’t say it was completely unexpected. He somehow found himself holding another beer, watching Crystal talk to a young couple who didn’t seem at all put off by his arrival. In fact, everyone was congenial, and a few people were even friendly. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything like it, he almost allowed himself to have a good time. Still, he felt more like an observer than a participant.
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Master Nage He had assumed Crystal would lose herself in the party and leave him alone, but it didn’t happen. Whenever she moved, she took his hand and towed him along behind her. He didn’t say a whole lot, but listened without understanding much of what was being said. What with the warmth of the steam heat and the effects of alcohol, he should have been surprised he could still stand. The music was pretty loud and he assumed the hour to be late, though he was too lazy to lift his watch to find out for certain. Finally, one thought did occur to him. “Crystal, don’t the neighbors complain about the noise?” “What!” “Doesn’t the music bother the neighbors?” She shrugged. “There’s no one else on the floor.” He remembered the eye down the corridor and shuddered, though he didn’t know why. Were they squatters? Was that why they were looking? He took another pull from his mug. It was somehow full again. He knew he should stop at some point but a sort of resigned lethargy had stolen over him, so he continued to be led around like a toddler, and continued also to consume whatever was handed him. Then somehow, Crystal and Ilya ended up alone in a bedroom. The change of venue so surprised him, he just stood and stared. She was already unzipping her dress. He shook himself, as if finally coming out of his stupor. “What are you doing?”
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Party Trick “It’s your birthday. I’m giving you a present.” She was naked beneath the dress and her body was everything he thought it would be...and more. Her breasts were firm and full of her youth. Her eyes, which he only now realized were the color of sea fog, were large and expectant. Nervously, he began to undress. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had casual sex, in fact couldn’t be certain he ever had. This didn’t feel casual—it felt strange. For a moment only, he thought she might be death coming to claim him. He could almost picture himself back at the bar, slumped over a table dead from a heart attack. He banished the thought as he watched her—pale, naked and perfect—pull back the covers and slide beneath. It took him too long to remove his clothes, no surprise considering how drunk he was. Finally naked, he stood there, waiting for some sort of invitation, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. He wasn’t even sure he wanted it to, but knew it would. He ended up trudging to the bed as if his pants were around his ankles. She stared up expectantly. When he didn’t join her, she spoke. “Well?” She patted the bed beside her, and he lay down, not sure what would happen next. Her hand touched his chest, slowly navigating the hair there. He gasped when she paused to gently pinch a nipple, then she returned to stroking. Her head rested on his shoulder, her lips almost touching his ear. “Does this feel good?” Not trusting himself to speak, Ilya nodded. Her hand moved as if it had a mind of its own,
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Master Nage wandering back and forth across his chest, then lower, over his stomach. It played momentarily with his navel before continuing its slow journey downward, closer, ever closer to his cock. Already he could feel the blood beginning to fill it. It grew harder and tried to flip up to meet her hand, but he’d consumed enough alcohol where that didn’t immediately happen. Still, she was patient and continued to stroke him—everywhere but where he most desired it. His thighs, his hips, his stomach, ever so close, but not touching. Never touching. His breathing was already heavy. His cock grew even harder and rolled around as the minutes passed, until it rested on his belly. She smiled at it, as she had smiled at him in the bar. “Well hello there.” And like at the bar, she leaned down and kissed its cheek. His entire body jerked and she turned to face him. “Do you want more?” “Yes.” She smiled again, but this time it seemed less innocent. She returned her attention to his cock and leaned down, trailing her fingers along its underside, again and again. He hadn’t been this hard in years. He tried to swallow but his throat was impossibly dry. Her fingers tormented him, tortured him. He was surprised when precum began to leak, as it had been a long time since that had happened. She just kept going, ever so slowly. His cock was like a rock, so hard he could barely take it. He whimpered.
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Party Trick “What’s wrong, Ilya?” “I’m so horny.” She smirked. “Are you now? And what do you want?” “I want to cum.” He did his best to hide his growing need, but the tension in his body, the heaviness of his breathing and the wild look in his eyes betrayed him. “Not yet.” Suddenly her fingers were gone, but before he could moan, they were replaced by her tongue. Slowly she licked up the shaft. She tasted his precum, then sucked the tip greedily, withdrawing her mouth just before he came. Again he whimpered, and she laughed at his growing helplessness. “Feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Yes,” he croaked. This seemed to please her for her mouth once again descended, but this time she engulfed his cock completely. Her tongue circled and circled, driving him to the very edge. He wanted to cum so bad, but couldn’t. He didn’t know why, until he realized she had two fingers clamped hard on the base of his shaft. He couldn’t cum until she released it. “Please...” He was almost in tears. “Not yet, lover.” Sucking again, sucking so hard. Each time he tried to thrust she stopped until he learned to remain motionless. A hand moved to his balls and massaged them, driving him to the edge, but still, release was denied him. “Please...I can’t...take it.” She could barely make
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Master Nage out his words between gasps. She removed her mouth and laughed again. “Awwwww, poor baby. Does Ilya want to cum so good for Crystal?” “Oh God, yes!” She moved away suddenly. He cried out at the loss of contact. Ilya thought about touching himself, but didn’t think she’d like that. He couldn’t afford to upset her. She straddled him, glistening pussy poised over his cock, eyes locked onto his. Gripping the shaft firmly, she rubbed it up and down between her lips, gasping each time it touched her clit. She shifted into a squat and continued to rub herself, using his cock as a dildo. Between her juices and his precum it was almost frictionless. He could see her breasts heave as her breathing grew heavier, and he thought if this kept up she would cum before him. He longed to see his own need reflected so keenly in her gray eyes. He wanted to wipe that perpetual smirk from her lips. Perhaps it would allow him to take some of the power back and he could finally have the release he so craved. But she didn’t let it happen. Before he knew what she was doing, she grasped him harder and lowered her pussy onto his cock head. As he slipped inside her raw wetness, his eyes rolled up in his head. It had been far too long. He wondered then at the ultimate price of this coupling, though he knew he’d pay whatever it was, and pay it gladly. She moaned as she lowered herself all the way down, until her ass rested on his balls. She started to undulate, riding him as he’d never before been
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Party Trick ridden. She moved rhythmically, eyes half-closed in ecstasy, nipples fully erect. He reached for them, pinched and pulled them. Each time he pulled, she gasped and writhed harder on his cock. Soon he would no longer be able to hold back. “I’m going to cuuuuuummmm!” She stopped moving. He wanted to scream. “You can’t do this!” “No? How about this?” She contracted her cunt-muscles. He groaned and tried to thrust, but her weight effectively pinned him. Again and again her muscles tightened, jerking him off in a way he’d never experienced. His hands, which had stopped moving with Crystal, resumed their assault on her breasts, but each time her pussy pulsed he stopped, unable to do anything but feel. Yet this wouldn’t allow him to cum either. It would only bring him closer and closer—his frustration building until he couldn’t take it. “Please! I need to cum!” She threw back her head and laughed. An evil look entered her eyes. “So do something about it.” He found himself getting angry. She couldn’t deny him, not after all this time! Again he tried to thrust, and again he was frustrated. So many women, laughing at him, always laughing. They’d had no regard for him. She had no regard. He’d teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget. Unable to take anymore, he reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair. He jerked her to the side and she fought to stay mounted. Her yelp was a
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Master Nage mixture of pain and pleasure, but the way her eyes gleamed, he knew what she wanted—what she’d been maneuvering him toward all along. He jerked again, and she was beside him. One more time and she was on her back. Before she could regain control, he rolled over and pinned her. Almost immediately his cock slid inside. He drove into her, each thrust rewarded with a moan. He stared down at her writhing, helpless body. It was his turn to laugh, not just at Crystal, but at all the others who’d turned him down. This was his revenge, the ultimate revenge. He laughed louder and rammed wildly into her. Her fingernails clawed his back. Her cunt opened to him, massaged him, brought him to the very edge of insanity. Never had he felt such desire. He bit her shoulder and she cried out. He never slowed his assault. Her thrusts were as urgent as his. He felt her finally give in, cunt contracting, pulsing as she came all over his cock. The sensation was so powerful, so erotic, so irresistible, his own orgasm began immediately. He felt the cum rise from his balls. He tried to hold back—he wanted to exact more revenge from her, but couldn’t. And when hot cum shot from his cock inside her, she cried out again, though this time her scream was one of triumph. Her nails dug into him, hips bucked against him and cunt muscles stroked him again and again, drawing every last drop from his cock. He was bathed in sweat and panting heavily. Their lovemaking, if you could call it that, was over, but the sweetness of her beneath him warmed him to the core
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Party Trick of his being. And that was how he slept, lying there, warmed now by more than just alcohol, for the first time in too many years to count. **** The first thing he became aware of was the cold. He wanted to pull the blankets higher but they were gone. So was Crystal. He jerked awake, scared and disoriented. The wooden floor beneath him was bare and scarred; the bed and all the furniture, gone. His clothes lay where he remembered dropping them, but there was nothing else in the room. He lay naked on a wooden floor, in a room white enough to hurt his eyes. His head was already starting to pound—how much had he consumed?—and he knew it would be worse before it got better. He struggled to his feet, dressed as quickly as the pain would allow and stumbled into the next room, which was equally empty. He turned the memories of the previous evening over in his mind and felt sick. What had happened? He couldn’t have hallucinated the whole thing, of that he was certain. When he finally thought to check, his cash and credit cards were where they should be. In that he was lucky though he didn’t feel so. Crystal had been so real, he’d enjoyed her so much, he felt bereft. She had said she was giving him a present, but it felt more like she’d stolen his soul, his sanity—or perhaps both. He was reluctant to leave but had to. He didn’t belong here, perhaps never would. He opened the door, which wasn’t locked, and
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Master Nage stepped onto the landing. To his left he spied the door that had opened the night before, one proof at least he had not imagined everything. He walked to it and rang the bell. He had no idea what he’d say when and if it opened. It didn’t matter. At the very least, someone in this apartment had seen him with Crystal. The door opened a crack and an eye appeared. He wasn’t sure if it were the same eye from last night. “If I could just have a moment of your time...” “Go away. I’ll call the police.” The voice was that of an elderly woman, deep enough to mask the shrillness that would have been there had she not spent so many decades smoking. “No, please...wait. I’m not going to hurt you.” “What do you want?” It was a good question. He could barely think of a coherent answer, but had to try. “Last night, you saw me, didn’t you?” “Yes.” “The girl I was with, does she live here?” The woman paused for long enough that he wasn’t sure she would answer. When she did, he felt the world go away. “There wasn’t any girl. You’re crazy. Leave me alone!” The door slammed and he heard two locks click shut. He didn’t leave immediately, but stood frozen, wondering what had happened to him. Though it was stupid to do so, he knocked again. “Please, ma’am, is that apartment for rent?” He wasn’t sure she’d heard until finally she yelled out: “2C. That’s the super. I’m dialing the police
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Party Trick now.” He didn’t linger. There was no reason to. He made his way down the stairs carefully, for he was still feeling the effects of his binge. When he reached the second floor, he found 2C, rang the bell and waited. A woman in a terrycloth bathrobe answered the door. She was in her forties, and might have been attractive in the same years he’d been, but like him the condition had long since passed. “I was wondering about an empty apartment on the fourth floor.” She looked surprised. “You want to rent it? You can have it cheap.” The immediate offer without a reference check, or a request for identification brought him up short. “Why?” “No one will move there. The place is haunted.” A day earlier he’d have scoffed. “How much?” She shrugged. “A hundred a month?” He almost laughed. Even after furnishing it, he could keep his old apartment for that kind of money. “It’s a deal.” He took five twenties from his wallet. “Did you need a security deposit too?” “No.” She snatched the money from his hand, walked to a rack of keys on the wall and handed him one. “Rent is due on the first of every month.” He guessed he was paying an entire month’s rent for January, though he’d only have the apartment for two weeks. He could hardly complain. Whatever was going on in that apartment, Crystal was part of it, and he had to see her again. When he left the building he took note of the
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Master Nage address, found a payphone and called the office. He’d already told them he might not be in as he’d probably be too depressed after another uneventful birthday. Still, it was the responsible thing to do, so he did it. The boss didn’t seem to mind. His attendance record was near perfect anyway, and he had plenty of sick days accrued. That night, Ilya returned to the apartment with a flashlight and sleeping bag. He hadn’t time to furnish it, but couldn’t wait to see Crystal again. For hours he lay awake, his only company the sounds of traffic from the street below. Around one a.m., he dressed and returned to Easy Money. The clientele was the same except for the one person he desperately needed to see. Dejected, he returned to his new apartment. Whether he furnished it or not, he’d return each night in the hope that some day he might see Crystal again. **** She stood over him, looking down. Beside her loomed a man so tall, his head almost brushed the ceiling. Ilya didn’t stir, didn’t know she was there at all. Had he been awake, he’d not have seen her anyway. The man wore a malevolent scowl. “I should materialize and wake him.” Crystal shook her head. “Don’t bother.” The man looked indignant. “Look, how are we supposed to haunt the place if you won’t let us do our job? You’re going to make us look bad.” Crystal patted his arm. “Don’t lose any sleep over
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Party Trick it. You’re still new to the game. Trust me when I tell you there are times when staying out of sight is far more devastating than anything else you can do.” He seemed unhappy but backed down. “You’re the expert.” “Yes, I am.” The tall man faded from existence as if he’d never been there. When he was gone, Crystal knelt and placed a ghostly kiss on the sleeping man’s cheek. He stirred only slightly, but didn’t wake. Her whisper chilled the still night air. “Good-bye, Ilya. I know you can hear me, though you won’t remember it when you wake. You can do it. You know you want to. It’s four stories down to the pavement. A single step off the fire escape is all it takes. One step and you’re free from your mediocrity. Why not? Who would miss you? Perhaps once you’re dead you’ll see me again, one last time. Wouldn’t that be too wicked?” Crystal straightened, smiled fondly at her latest victim and faded, leaving behind a soul even more tortured than she.
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About the Author
M
aster Nage is a real life D/s Master, living in Hobart, Tasmania with his slave (and wife) dana. He's practiced BDSM since 1992, both online and in real life. Master Nage, unlike many Dominants, is into psychological domination and sexual combat. Many of the situations from his books are taken from real life BDSM scenes.