Chapter 1:17 Three Things - Rourke 

Something about Nyx rang inside of me like a tuning fork. The immediate and obvious interest from both my partner and the guy I still can’t admit I’m interested in only enhanced it. 

I tell myself I stopped looking because I can’t afford to be divided with the professional, as much as personal attacks on my family. That all my attention needs to be on the here and now with the kid, I just pseudo adopted via my partner. 

Regardless of my resources, I don't have the time to sift through a city of nine million, and tell myself now as much as I did then to drop it. Even if I found her, Nyx isn’t the type I could keep at a distance. Vince has made it clear that he’ll never keep someone long term, other than the female he has engaged himself to.

I’m also not the type someone like her would respond to anyway. Not in person, at least. None of my pets see me face to face. Only hear me on the phone, and regardless of the EIX serum all soldiers take stepping into boot camp for advanced healing, I still haven’t gotten my full voice back.

I may look like a demon, but had the voice of an angel. Or maybe Devil because it was the shit sex was made for. Now it’s no better than the rest. Rubbing my throat, I keep my breathing even. Tio’s was pitching a fit, so he’s on my chest. I don’t blame Vince for being freaked the fuck out, and I know I’m only one person.

There’s no way I could have gotten there from here, but it doesn’t stop the guilt. That feeling of failure and oh shit, that’s been pounding away at my brain. I feel the weight of the world on me, and need it off. Need the feel of absolute power and dominance over someone who’s truly thrilled to give it to me. 

Even if I have worked out the physical aspect on my own during my recovery, I’m still short of the mental release. Worse, every time I think about a contract, it’s a toss up between a man I shouldn’t want, and a woman I can’t have. 

Being submissive or dominant is not something anyone can explain, any more than they can train. You are or you aren’t. It’s not a kink. Not to me. It’s a lifestyle. Part of who people truly are in my mind. Some couples like hiking, or music, or screwing in public. I like domination.

I really could have gone either way. Daddy or serial killer, with the way I stalk, see, plan, and orchestrate another person’s existence……. Without Luke, I’m truly not sure how it would have went. 

The banker everyone else swears is a fancy piece of A.I. tech sat me down when I was sixteen. Clearly pent-up and about to blow a gasket. Didn’t take a genius to get I needed to get laid and knew fuck all about it. 

Our little chat went beyond the pay to play setting or him unleashing me on the unassuming masses. Crafty fuck, knew I was like him in the fact that I let the fantasy build up in my head. Watch and stalk sweet little things long before I ever initiated contact. 

I have to walk it all out. Practice the steps, prepare the whole path, so I get the most out of the experience. It wasn't just me being a practical demon that did that, but all the prep work it took to make sure I'd come through, no matter the circumstance.

I truly could have gone either way.

Dom or serial killer. I may never believe that letters and numbers go together, but I do know when shit adds and shit tracks. What I did. What I do is every bit as detailed as the things people see on the news. . I would watch things long before I decided what to do with them.

Frankly, I thought the man was out of his mind, when he said that there were people who'd let me do that. That would want me, need me, like I needed them. 

Luke was right, though. Hooked me up with my first sub, who was a little more experienced. 

A switch who only accepted long distance and no contact interactions. Gwen was something else. Introducing me to more than the basics, and only letting me go when I got a feel for it.

The process is simple. I see someone I like. I stalk them. Get a feel for their personality and day to day. Then I drop a phone and an envelope with cash to hear me out. 

Won't bore you with the screening process, but it's easily a month of gentle and exploratory contact to see if I'll take them on. 

At which time I offer a contract and a salary. They'll never see me, but I'll always see them. The only place I don't put cameras, mics and taps, is the bathroom. Every one needs a private space. I also encourage my pets to have relationships, platonic and not.

Leaving it up to them if they tell their partners I'm watching.

I make a routine, plan a diet, provide a wardrobe, and micromanage their lives, until they're bored or ready for the next step. Some people are kinky. Some just need a helping hand.

I was given a new life and a clean slate, so I have no problem offering that to people that deserve it. Anything and everything I do has stipulations.

First consent. They agree to the terms.

Second respect. If they don't fall in with the regimen or break a rule, I'm done. They never see me in person, and it's easy to cut strings.

Third honesty. Anyone lies about anything, that's it.

Can't say all my pets are sexual, but that's one of the big lures. In person, I have the hands on ability to guide, correct and take the reins. The more sass, the more reason I have to put someone over my knee. Spank or lick the little things into compliance and my way of things.

Long distance, I have to have obedience.

I'll give one warning and if they don't fall into line, that's it. End of day, it's as much for them as it is to satisfy the need for absolute control. How Vince is in person. 

Can't say my responsibilities are less, just different. I don't like the word worship, but I do crave the appreciation, I guess.

Maybe I’m more of a wreck than I’ll admit. Maybe I’m just making shit up in my head. I doubt anyone could ever tic all my boxes. Self aware as I force myself to be,  I do get that I’m holding on to her. Playing pretend with Nyx because I’m too insecure about my ability as a long-distance Dom since the attempted hit.

If not swallowing the fact that for the first time in my life, I have feelings for a man. 

I’ve never judged anyone for their sexual preference, but being as into Grimm as I am…. I’m plain, not ready for that large of a question. Not ready or willing to admit that Luca hits every mark on my preference list, same as the women we happened on a month back. 

Both of them playing into the notion that I could corrupt them, just a bit, but mature enough to put as many ideas in my head as I am theirs. Daddy or not, I hate baby play in dynamics. Need someone looking at me like I do them, with anticipation, not uncertainty.

Not that I don’t placate, that it doesn’t warm my heart to see girls getting to relish in their softer and smaller sides, but girls pretending to be toddlers asking what a penis is….. Major turn off for me. 

Mentality as much as age, is important when it comes to scenes, and innocence has nothing to do with virgin status. It’s a softness, sweetness, and brightness you find in those pure beings. The ones far from the darkness that I’ve always known. The ones that act like the sun, and that you want to protect with all you are.

Mids, Middles, or the teenage or new adult mentality of someone who is smart, curious, and still needs a bit of guidance is my ideal. 

I huff out, knowing I’ll never sleep as deeply or soundly as the infant snoring on my chest. Getting Tio back to his crib, I move for water. I may have had a higher intake than most people would consider normal, but since my throat got slashed, it feels like I’m never without the miracle liquid in my hand.

I find Vince in my kitchen, swirling rather than sipping from his glass, and can’t remember the last time we spent the night together without a woman between us. We are partners as well as friends, and it’s not like we don’t grab a meal or drinks. 

Opposite as we are, we do balance one another well, and get along pretty seamlessly and easily after two decades of friendship. Still, doming is our thing, and it’s pretty natural to want power when it’s been poked at. His mile long stare, swirling rather than sipping the bourbon in his glass….. 

He’s chewing on something.

Only time he’s not acting or barking orders, unless he’s asleep. I know the gears turning with puzzle work in his head. I feel like a chicken with my head cut off, and his throat is as fucked as mine with all the roars of the answers he was demanding. 

I don’t know what happened, and I won’t push Vince to talk if he isn’t ready. Knowing that Vince never speaks before he’s got a full game plan, it’s an easy silence. The weight of the world on our shoulders and in our heads with no relief or resolution. 

Until we can set a course of action in motion, talking is a distraction at best, and I appreciate that we don’t have to explain that to one another. At least until that bizarre sentence breaks through the quiet. “Castration Nation. You flip ‘em, we snip ‘em.”

“I know it’s been awhile, but really?” The tone of her dom hits like whiskey. Heat wiggling all the way down as you hear it. “A cold caller greeting?” Why am I not surprised it’s a standard greeting for the woman who’s been driving me nuts for the past few weeks? 

Reminding me why, no matter what I tell myself, I could never get the conundrum of a woman out of my head. The crap this girl says, let alone the situations she gets herself into.....