Luna crawled backward up the bed away from Morgaine, leaving her kneeling and alone at its foot. She was the center of both their attentions but in the cold focus of a couple who saw her as little more than an aid to their wants.

Kneeling, Morgaine reached down and took the short hem of her club dress and pulled it up over her head. She spilled out bare before them wearing only a thong and black heels.

“Slowly,” hissed Luna, but it was too late.

The disappointment of Luna, who wanted a show, readily showed. Not in a cute pout, but angry burning eyes, and a sneer that made Morgaine feel small. She relished that smallness. It was such a lovely departure from looking men straight in the face or, worse, down at them. She wished she could be small all the time, and here this woman did that to her in an instant.

Morgaine brought her hands up to her breast, covering them, squeezing them together, giving Luna her show. She swayed on her knees, back and forth for Luna who leaned back against the headboard. The song washed over her, through her, and Morgaine let it take control. She moved with each beat, losing herself to it, letting it guide her. She was a marionette in its embrace.

When the song faded to its end, Morgaine opened her eyes and saw that Luna was still watching. Her skirt was pulled up, and her fingers stroked black lacy panties as Morgaine slowed, naked before her. The room was quiet except for the sound of Morgaine breathing.

“Climb up here little kitty Kat,” Luna demanded. And Morgaine did. Never getting off her knees, she crawled up the bed, drawn to the commanding woman staring down at her.

Morgaine could feel how badly Luna wanted her. More than that though, the smaller woman relished the control she had. She wanted to tell Morgaine what to do, and Morgaine wanted to do it.

Another song played, slow, moody, with a hint of evil. A baritone voice singing about all the things he’d give up in the room of his lover. Morgaine slowed, letting each movement of arm and leg coincide with the beats of the music. She stalked sensually toward her prey, a panther moving over sheets and mattress.

When she neared, Luna stopped touching herself and reached out, grabbing the back of Morgaine’s neck. She was pulled into parted waiting lips. When they touched Morgaine lost herself in it. She wanted to give everything to this beautiful woman, this cruel, cold vixen. Losing herself was exactly what she wanted and needed.

The bed creaked as Derek sat next to the two. There was rustling and shifting; Morgaine didn’t look. She didn’t care what he did. She was here for Luna, and if he was part of the bargain to get that, Morgaine was willing to accept it.

Feminine fingers wrapped around her dark locks, winding it into a fist. Morgaine groaned. She loved being controlled by a leash of hair. The kiss went on blissfully forever.

A warm hand touched her. Masculine, large, claiming the small of her back. Hot fingertips traced up along her spine, making her arch her back, thrusting her ass in the air. She was being turned into a kitty Kat, their pet, whatever they wanted.

Morgaine wanted to be used. She wanted to be of service. Wanted desperately to please both. Even if it meant giving so much of herself to them that she went unfulfilled. She wanted to elevate them in her service and be praised for all she gave them.

The music tempo sped up. Its swanky croon changed, getting more desperate, frantic, and demanding. Just as Luna and Derek did. Hands explored Morgaine as she remained locked in her kiss. Tongues entwined, exploring, wrestling, conquering. Two rough hands explored her back, side, ass. She spread her knees, wishing those hands would touch her at her core. Soft, thin fingers still held her hair and throat. Morgaine was not allowed to leave the kiss. She was held there in favor of her will.

When the kiss broke the music was near frantic, and Morgaine breathless. She opened her eyes to look into Luna’s, so cold and demanding. The smaller woman held up a hand, one finger extended in a hook, and hanging from it were metal handcuffs. Morgaine’s tummy fluttered in tumultuous heat.

“Derek’s going to put these on you kitty.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“No.” Luna said with a tinge of anger, “You call me Miss.”

Morgaine drew a deep breath, then answered in a shaky voice, “Yes, Miss.”

The smile Luna gave her was radiant. She lowered her head to Luna’s tummy and moved her hands behind her. The handcuffs passed over her, and she heard them ratchet open. Cold steel wrapped around one, then the other wrist. They tightened locking her wrists together.

“Good, girl.” Luna beamed down at her.

The fist in her hair tugged her down, pulling her face down over the leather skirt and to Luna’s panties. Morgaine saw black lace, see-through, with hints of Luna beneath. She knew what was expected of her, she opened her mouth and suckled through the fabric. She worked her lips hard through against the lace knowing Luna was the only one she needed to focus on.

Derek's hands were all over her ass, her thighs, daring but never quite touching her pussy. She rotated her hips, hoping to draw him in, alluring him into touching her. He seemed hesitant, waiting for Luna to give him permission. He leaned forward behind her, and she felt his fiercely burning shaft settle in the valley of her ass cheeks. Morgaine used her face, shoving against Luna to push back against him.

When he thrust his hips forward, Morgaine wished his cock was lined up. She wanted to be filled. Instead, he just shoved her back into Luna. The fist in her hair tightened, guiding her, mashing her face into the moist panties.

“Fuck. I can’t take any more,” Derek begged.

“Not yet,” Luna said, “She’s barely tasted me yet.”

Fingers wrapped around her hips, and Morgaine was pulled back and slammed into Derek. She grunted feeling his hard prick against her, but he didn’t dare enter. Morgaine pushed back hoping to somehow get him in her, but the hands on her hips prevented her at every turn.

Luna reached down and touched Morgaine’s face. Soft delicate fingers, such a loving touch.

“Do you want to fuck my boyfriend?”

Morgaine wanted everything, but she dared not say so, “I want whatever you want, Miss.”

“Good answer kitty.”

Luna’s hand stroked down the cheek, over the exposed neck, and then to herself. Fingers slipped under the panties just inches from Morgaine's eyes and pulled them aside. There was a small patch of dirty blonde fuzz, so neatly trimmed, almost touching her pussy. The outer lips were thick and full, the inner ones glistened with need. Morgaine was happy to see Luna was wet.

“Go on kitty.”

Morgaine needed no further encouragement. She opened her mouth and lapped, drank, and muzzled her face against the open hole. A hand behind her reached up between spread knees and touched her. Morgaine gasped loudly, muzzling herself in the wet folds.

Derek was greedy, stroking her exactly three times, then plunging his slick fingers in. Even so, it felt good. Luna’s commands and her demeanor had already gotten Morgaine where she needed to be. As she rubbed her face in the other woman’s slick lips she groaned in need.

The fingers left her, replaced with the tip of a cock. Derek beat it up against her lips a few times as Luna told him, “Fuck her. Fuck this little kitty.”

He wasted no time entering her. Shoving in hard, fingers digging into her hips. He sunk in so deep all Morgaine could do was groan. Her scalp tingled as Luna pulled her hair, shoving her back into the wet slit. Morgaine lost herself, in the music, in the kissing, in the fucking. Derek pounded into her shoving her face again and again into Luna. His urgency drove her on into Luna, making her try to lap at the woman while being shoved into her repeatedly.

It didn’t take Derek long to announce, “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Hold it for me baby, kitty kat has almost got me there.”

He continued thumping inside her, striking her so deep, filling her like she hadn’t been in ages. The sweet fragrant musk of Luna covering her face. Luna tightened a fist in her hair, urging Morgaine to finish. She formed an O with her mouth and latched on to the clitoral shaft, gently sucking and pressing with her tongue tip. Luna made a wild series of squeals.

“Fuck yes, kitty Kat, just like that.”

Morgaine started twisting her head back and forth, adding another dimension to her pressing tongue. It seemed to work. Luna’s legs squeezed. Derek grabbed the metal cuffs. Morgaine tried touching his hand with fingertips, but he was oblivious, jackhammering away inside her.

She was so fucking close. The orgasm was just there. All she needed was… something… something.

“Fuck!” Luna screamed, then shrieked out and thrashed. Morgaine’s mouth was flooded and she drank hungrily.

Derek pulled back on the cuffs, stretching her arms and riding her relentlessly. Morgaine smiled blissfully, a sadist, exactly what she’d needed. As he yanked back against her, trying to hurt her, the pain transformed and trickled up her arms and into her chest, becoming a filling sensation. He continued battering against her, and that too changed, became a soothing sense, filled her in ways that were beyond physical. She needed the pain, and even more needed to feel his desire to hurt her.

What a delicious pair, she thought. Luna for the commanding presence and the cutting emotional and mental cruelty. And Derek for the physical pain, the raw torment of the flesh. Morgaine knew the pain Luna inflicted would be sharper and longer lasting, but there was a brute force to his that was also wickedly scrumptious. Together they had gotten her so close, so damn close.

“I need to fill this bitch!” he yelled.

“Yes, yes, fucking yes, give it to her. Make that cunt feel you.”

He howled, yanking back on the cuffs, fingers digging into her hip flesh, cock twitching inside her, battering her. An explosion of heat. Wet noises. And Derek snarled like an animal as he beat his cock into her. Luna wrenched her hair, ground her face in wet cunt, and squeezed her thighs, crushing her skull smothering her.

Morgaine absorbed it all. And more. Their angry hurt, their intention to cause pain, it energized her. Made her feel light and powerful. Turned her into a creature of carnal power. She flexed her wrists and the cuffs snapped, shattering and freeing her arms. Morgaine howled with them, not in climax, but in frustration of releasing others but never herself.

The two finished, exhausted, panting, and surprised Morgaine wasn’t in tears. She acted. She inhaled Luna’s essence, deep into her lungs. Inside her it changed, transformed, became what she needed.

“Sleep…” she whispered at Luna. The essence flowed out of her, embraced the cruel woman, and she slipped into a slumber.

“Fucking hell…” Derek grunted slipping free. He had been too lost in his own climax to notice the breaking cuffs, or the words the women exchanged.

Morgaine turned on all fours and whispered, “Sleep…”

He looked at her through confused and angry eyes. His body struggled forward, one knee coming toward her but mired in sheets and mattress. He reached out and slumped, falling face-first onto the bed. Struggling, he lifted himself to his elbows. Morgaine was impressed. He fought valiantly with inhuman willpower, but eventually, he succumbed.

She cleaned herself in the tiny bathroom quickly then slipped back into her club dress. They’d given her what she needed, essence and energy for weaving spells. She looked at them sleeping, two sweet monsters made for each other. She hoped to see them again.

In the front room, she turned down the stereo. Even though it was not in her building, she worried it might be too loud for the neighbors.

On the wall, she spotted a mirror framed by cold candles. Cobwebs, fake cobwebs, had been spun around the frame. Off to one side, she saw a pentagram. Morgaine smiled. Luna fancied herself a witch. Maybe someday… although not bloody likely. Luna seemed too absorbed in herself. She’d never awaken.

Morgaine took a car home and slept well into the next day. She rode on the bliss of knowing she’d been wanted, desired, chased, and captured. As she bathed, she decided she’d try the club again tonight. Perhaps there’d be more to harvest. Perhaps Luna and Derek would be there again.

The day passed slowly while she lounged, hiding from the sun, waiting to venture out again. The very best thing about her apartment was the large patio. She’d covered it in decorative trees providing shade so she could lose herself in a book and watch the street below. People scurried about, and she tried to imagine what they did all day. Night would come soon, and she’d venture out again.

Thoughts of Luna’s hand on her neck, telling her what to do, filled her with a pleasant anxiety. She wanted that again. Wanted someone strong enough, even if they had to look up at her, to tell her exactly what they wanted her to do. The insatiable hunger to please filled most of her thoughts as the sun slipped down past the horizon.

At ten PM she dressed and went to Darkness. It was monolithically as it always was, a dark landscape of swaying bodies, swirling lusts, and booze. The Dj was being an ass, playing a slow Brian Ferry song, the lyrics repeating over and over that he was putting a spell on them. Telling the sleeping that he was fucking with them as they danced obliviously in his domain.

She danced, catching notes when she could. But the vibe tonight was off. Something, some energy swirled through the crowd. Even the dance floor seemed half deserted. Luna was nowhere to be seen, nor Derek. A few songs played, she danced alone, and no one took notice or approached. The notes, too, seemed even worse tonight, so few of the ones she needed flittered through the air.

Finally giving in, she went for a drink. There were no lines, but clusters of people made getting to the bar as difficult as ever. One barren spot promised easy access, so she maneuvered into it.

When she made her way to the counter, she was standing next to a very serious-looking man in a suit. Odd costume for this place, she thought. When he looked up at her, she could tell more was wrong than his attire. Fretted brow and brown eyes, he stared into her, judging, weighing.

Damien broke her stare, “Hey, Kat.”

“Thank goodness you are here, I’m desperate for a drink…” she paused as Damien looked at her apologetically.

The serious man next to her spoke up, “Miss Wysse?”

Morgaine looked at him then back at Damien, finally she said, “Yes?”

A wallet came out and was flipped open in her face. A shiny shield and ID on display, “I’m Detective Andrews. Can we step outside to talk?”

Morgaine blinked, “What? What can I help you with?”

“It would be best if we stepped outside.” His hand came up and took her elbow firmly. In other circumstances, she might have melted into such a grip.

“What’s going on?”

“I just want to ask some questions.” He stood looking her straight in the eyes.

“About what?”

“There was a murder last night. You were the last person seen with the victim.”

Youtube links to songs in this chapter:

Depeche Mode - In Your Room

Bryan Ferry - I Put A Spell On You

First Part:

Darkly Woven Part 1