LIGHT for DARKNESS

EPISODE 8 - AUGUST

I got to my house, parked my car in the garage. I had the shift of my security unit changed. 

The mansion was a fortress, impenetrable. There was CCTV everywhere, an alarm system that automatically puts the building on lockdown if triggered and twenty permanent armed guards. Trying to break in or attack here, was a death wish.

Whatever I was doing lacked my concentration, pissed off at someone or something.

Heading upstairs to the master's bedroom, I dropped by the kitchen to place an order for Steak, chips and wine for dinner. Maybe after a hot bath, a good dinner and a w***e, I'll feel better. So I got undressed, took a steamy and relaxing bath and changed into Jeans, polo and sneakers. Going downstairs, I went to the dining room for dinner.

It has never been boring or lonely at the mansion. All of a sudden, there was a thought of how good it will be to have someone, anyone, around.

“Where is that coming from?” I shook the thought away because it was a stupid one.

My dinner was served. Eating it, the delicious and satisfying taste it gave, made my eyes roll back. Finishing up my dinner, I walked to the study to take care of a few businesses and turn in for the night.

Unlike every other night, when I'll just doze off, it seemed like sleep was far-fetched. I turned and rolled from one end of my bed to the other yet, I could not sleep.

I git out of bed and changed into my boxing gear, heading to my house gym. The punching bag received more hits than ever. I was furious, and it didn't go well with the bag.

Why was I so nice? Not only nice but, nice to a female. Why can't I concentrate?  Why was she affecting me so much?

Throwing series of punches on the bag and still did not feel better, I undressed, took a cold bath and changed back to blue ripped jeans and a black polo.

“I need something more.” Maybe if I was high, all these will stop, and I can have my senses back. I needed my 100% to be able to focus and work.

Heading to the bar in my living room the one just before you got to the elevator, I poured myself a glass of Ciroc and drank all of it. I drank another glass and another one. Still, I wasn't feeling it. So, I drank three more glasses of whiskey.

The tipsy feeling was slowly hitting me. Yet, here the face was still in my head. I felt horny as f**k. I took out my phone and called for an escort.

Checking the time, it was 12:45 AM, a bit late for f*****g yet, I still needed it.

Twenty minutes later the escort arrived. I gave the agency, specific instructions for a fair, black-haired girl with a ponytail, big green eyes and a bit above average, just like the mystery girl. The only difference was, what I felt with her was new but with this one, it was just the same old feeling of a means to an end.

She doesn't look bad. Dressed in a skin-tight metallic blue mini see-through gown with black pencil heels.

“You have the details already?”

“Yes, master.”

I had a few rules for when I dealt with women. No kissing, no foreplay, always with a condom, and not at any point to be on top of me. Address me as Master only. Whipping, cuffing and anal only. I know, I know. b**m kinda s**t. But that was the only way I got pleasure.

I took her to my “darkroom”.  That is where I f**k women. I do not take them to another room except for that one. I don't get personal with them. It is purely business.

“Strip. On all fours.”

She obeyed. I cuffed her legs, her hands, attached a collar to her neck and got a whip. I proceeded to give her twenty lashes, and she replied with a moan. Her back and butt now had the whip lines. I never conversed during s*x and their pleasure meant nothing to me. I only satisfied myself.

I didn't even bother to lubricate her asshole. With all my might, I thrust into her. She cried out in pain, but it did not affect me. Instead, I slapped her bareback really hard, taking her until she was close to becoming unconscious yet, I was far from cumming. All I was thinking about was “her”.

I withdrew and cleaned myself up. She could barely stand and was whimpering out of pain. Looking at her back, there were whip marks and her flesh, almost torn. This was a turn-off for me.

I had made payments to her agency.  I asked Henderson, my guard, to drive her back to whatever address she gave.

I did not enjoy myself. "Her" image was still messing me up, and I was drunk. It was a feeling I've never had before.

I got to my bathroom, showered, dressed in pyjamas and laid on the bed. Closing my eyes, I started fantasising about her. Slowly, I was touching myself until it turned to full pleasure and I jerked off.

Finally, I could relax and sleep. But, if she had this effect on me then I needed to take care of it by getting her to please me. It always worked. This hatred builds once I f**k a girl.

She was nothing special. Just a distraction.

“You will be sorry for messing me up, mystery girl.”

After a few minutes, I was able to fall asleep.