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「  𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 」―  𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 & 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎. ⁿˢᶠʷ

reverie.

✦ ₊ ˚ ᴀ ʀᴀʏ ᴏғ sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ ˚ ₊ ✦
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Aug 7, 2021
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ᴀ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ ʙʏ ʙᴜɴɴʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀɪᴇ.
Morrigan's friend has tried to convince her to come to the BDSM club for weeks and weeks, and she finally gave in. After attending a few Fridays, she's finally gathered up the courage to try a scene. Her friend assures her that she can stop it at any moment just by using her safeword, and that the Dominant will not hurt her―not really. But what happens when her older brother Marcus comes barging in shortly after they've started the scene, furious that his little sister is there. But he's wanted to teach her a lesson for quite some time now, and this might be the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on her.

The only question is, how far is he willing to go, and will Morrigan use her safeword before he pushes her too far?
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It was the third Friday that she’d come to the club. At first glance
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didn’t stand out. Nestled in downtown, the old building was beautiful with age. The blacked out windows offered no hint of what lay within and the only hint was the scrolling text in a deep mulberry shade across the dark glass.

Mild curiosity was stopped at the door, where the bouncer leaned. Arms folded, he exuded menace. That sort of don’t fuck with me vibe that bouncers had. Morrigan could recall the first time she’d proffered her Id to him. The way she’d felt, as he looked her over with a raised brow and a small quirk of lips. He knew what lay beyond the doors, what she was there for. She also could recall how her face had flamed, brilliantly with her embarrassment. It had only seemed to entertain him. The second visit had not been any easier and now, with the third?

Dark eyes scrutinized as they looked between her and her ID. Her fingers toyed with the lace at the edge of her black sorts. They were short, really short. Small dark steel buttons held the closed at the front and she knew, without being able to see that the edge of her ass was hanging out. It had been intentional and she wondered if he noticed the change in her outfit. Short shorts, the black thigh highs with the lace that rose to meet the lace at the edge of the shorts. The tight, blood red blouse that clung to her torso, that framed her small breasts to their best. The outfit, the club? They were all Sariah’s fault and Morrigan was cursing her friend when the bouncer finally smiled, handing her the card back. Her cheeks heated and she took it, slipping it back into her pocket.

Slipping past him, Morrigan let the darkness of the club cushion her. A shaky breath left her and she fought the urge to fidget. Worrying her lower lip, Morrigan took a moment to ease her nerves before slipping into the club deeper. The Edge of Curiosity was a club. Not just any sort of club, but a BDSM club. Sariah had convinced her to come the first time.

Recalling the conversation she felt her lips curl slightly, picturing her friend’s face. "You'll love it! the guys there, omg, they're so hot. And when they push you against the wall and press their knees between your legs--girl, it feels so good. but you don't have to try anything before you're ready, okay? Just please, one night. I swear, you're gonna love it!" And so far, she’d been little more than a wallflower, watching the men and women of the club. Tonight though, she’d told Sariah she was ready for more. She wanted to try..

Part of the desire came from the fact that she was eighteen and a virgin. Not scandalous and far from religious. It wasn’t even some schoolgirl fantasy of her first time. Morrigan knew she wanted someone who knew how to touch her however. To leave her quivering, breathless.. A one night stand didn’t sound like a bad way to experience it either and with her curiosity about the darker side of sex? The kiss of pain, the freedom of letting go?

Sariah found her first and when arms slipped around her waist, Morrigan froze and then laughed, the sound of her voice drowned out by the music. “You look hot Mori!” Her friend’s breath smelled like whiskey and she couldn’t help but laugh and turn in her arms. “Yeah?” Her dark eyes were far from dull. The brown of her eyes were like the deepest of forest pools in shadow. Sable; warm. Her lips curled slightly and slipping her arm around Sariah’s waist she allowed her friend to guide her toward her Dominant. David was handsome, but not really her type. His eyes trailed over her and he whistled. “Sariah told me what she’d picked out for you, but damn Mori!” While the words, the look held heat, they were more friendly than anything else. As if he was trying to rally her.

A hand found her own and Sariah leaned closer, bending some to talk to her. Sariah was nearly six feet in heels, Morrigan was barely five one in heels. “I know you just got here, but we have a Dom lined up for you!” Swallowing thickly, Morrigan nodded. “Okay.” The nerves were back and Sariah pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry, remember you have a safe word. He will not do anything you don’t want, okay?”

Five minutes later, Morrigan found herself alone in a dim room. The carpet was plush under her heels, the dusty purple complimenting the dark grey walls. Paraphernalia lay around the room, A padded chair with straps, a sex swing, a padded horse and a Saint Andrew's cross. One all held a variety of toys and tools. Finally a large canopy bed took up the far wall.

The music here was lower, soft, calming even. Slowly as she walked toward the toys, her fingers running along a crop, she wondered what the night would bring. She trusted Sariah.. Even David. They told her she’d be taken care of and no matter what she said, Morrigan was curious.

 

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Marcus had been a regular at The Edge of Curiosity—The Edge, as he liked to call it—for almost a decade. He had met a lot of people, done a lot of things, and yet nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever surprised him more than when he saw his little sister's face among the crowd. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but no, it was definitely her. He would recognize that face anywhere. In the dark, in the distance, he would recognize it anywhere. The people she was there with called her Mori, but to him, she'd always be Fay. It had started as just a joke, with him comparing her bratty attitude growing up with the dark witch from Merlin, but the name had stuck. Sometimes he forgot it wasn't her actual name.

But Morrigan had no business being there, or in any BDSM club. She was barely legal, a virgin as far as he knew, and certainly not cut out for this shit. She didn't have the faintest clue what it meant to be a submissive. And even if her friends had explained it to her, practicing it was something else entirely. Practicing BDSM wasn't something you could study. Reading about it won't make you succeed. It might help you, sure, but only experience will make you better. Marcus knew for a fact that his sister had no experience on the topic whatsoever. Hell, this was not the right place to lose your virginity.

He'd paid close attention to her the other nights he'd seen her, but when her friend had taken her to one of the private rooms, he'd followed. There was no way in hell he was letting a random Dom touch her—hurt her. If she wanted to play submissive, he'd let her play submissive. If she thought she could handle it, he'd make it his mission to prove her wrong. Morrigan didn't know the first thing about submitting, so why she was even there to begin with was a mystery. How had her friend managed to convince her to come here?

If it weren't for that ridiculous outfit she was wearing, she would have looked so innocent in that room filled with toys and furniture she had never seen before. He observed her from the door opening, his eyes wandering over her body, lingering perhaps a bit too long on her buttcheeks that were hanging out from under the shorts. Had she looked at herself in the mirror before she left home?

"Put that down." His voice filled the room as his eyes tore into her and the crop she was studying. She probably couldn't handle one strike with that, at least not if he was wielding it. He took a step forward, closing the door behind him, locking it. No other Dom was joining this scene, not tonight. He locked his gaze on her from across the room; he did not look happy. "What exactly do you think you're doing here, Fay?" He tilted his head slightly to the side, observing her reaction. "Do you want to be a submissive, is that it?" His voice was harsh, mocking.

He took a step towards her, then another. "I know you," he said, slowly closing the distance between them. "You're no sub." Morrigan had always been feisty—a brave, little brat—but she'd never struck him as someone capable or willing to obey orders, someone who was able to submit. Not even with a little bit of encouragement. "You don't have what it takes." Only a few feet left now. "And yet, here you are." A wicked grin spread across his lips as he shook his head in disbelief—or was it disappointment? She was so oblivious, so sweet., so. . . innocent. Marcus towered over her small frame, trapping her between the table and himself. It wasn't like she'd never seen him in black dress pants and a white shirt, but maybe not up close like this. And certainly not in a setting like this.

"Tell me—" He leaned closer, tilting his head as he spoke in a deep voice. His fingers traced the hem of her ridiculously short shorts, outlining the curve of her ass. He was supposed to prove a point, but in reality, it was just an excuse to touch her—feel her. "Did you expect to get laid in these shorts?"

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