Elara (Elias)
The air in the Red Room didn't just smell like sex; it smelled like oxygen being burned away by a fever.
I leaned back against the cold leather of the armchair, my legs spread, watching the girl on her knees. She was a high-end regular a woman who spent her days in glass office buildings and her nights begging to be erased. Her wrists were bound behind her back with a rough jute rope that bit into her pale skin, a stark contrast to the crimson velvet of the walls.
She was choking. Her eyes were rolled back, wet and desperate, as she struggled to take the entirety of my dic*. She wanted to be filled, but more than that, she wanted to be conquered.
"Daddy," she wheezed, the word vibrating against the heat of my skin. She pulled back just enough to gasp, her face flushed a dark, bruised rose. "You're… you're so dominant. You must have been born this way. A natural king."
I didn't smile. I don't know how to. Instead, I reached down and tangled my fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so she had to look at me. I wanted her to see the void in my eyes.
Born this way.
You want to know about my birth? You want to know what "natural" looks like for a creature like me?
Listen closely, because this is the only truth I have. I didn't start being a predator at the club. I started in the dark, in the fluid, in the silent heat of my mother's womb. There were two of us. Two heartbeats, two blueprints, two souls competing for a single space. Most people have a childhood; I had a war.
While we were still nothing but cells and hunger, I made a choice. I didn't just outgrow my brother; I unmade him. I reached out in the primordial dark and I consumed him. I pulled his DNA into my marrow, his strength into my bones, and his sex into my own flesh. I am the winner of a duel that happened before I had a name. I am the dominant twin who ate the only friend I ever would have had.
And then, to finish the job, I tore my way out of my mother and bled her dry. I didn't just enter this world; I conquered it, leaving nothing but corpses and "the curse" in my wake.
"You have no idea," I rasped, my voice a low, masculine vibration that seemed to rattle the very floor.
I gripped her chin, forcing her back down. I wasn't gentle. Gentleness is for people who have a soul to share. I am a biological heist. I am a girl with the weaponry of the man she murdered.
I watched her struggle, her throat working against my dic*, her body shivering in a cocktail of fear and ecstatic submission. I felt the power of it the way I could dictate her every breath, her every moan. It was the only time I felt like the pieces of my body fit together. In the light, I am a freak. In the light, I am a 'trans' anomaly to be stared at. But here, in the sweat and the red light, I am the ultimate truth. I am the apex.
I shifted, the masculine muscles of my thighs tensing as I drove into the friction. I wasn't just having sex with her; I was colonizing her. I wanted to leave bruises that looked like my paintings deep violets, angry indigos, the colors of a storm that never breaks.
She let out a muffled, high-pitched whimper, her body arching, her bound chest straining against her clothes. She was close to breaking, and I was the one who held the hammer.
Does that make you feel good? I asked her in my mind, though I knew she couldn't answer. To be owned by a ghost? To be fucked by a girl who is more of a man than anyone you've ever met?
I held her hair until the very last second, watching the light in her eyes fracture as she hit her limit. When I finally pulled back, I didn't offer a hand or a soft word. I let the silence of the room settle over her like a heavy shroud.
"Be thankful," I commanded, my voice dropping into that dark, jagged place that only Elias knows.
She looked up at me, her makeup ruined, her breath coming in jagged, desperate hitches.
"If you want more," I leaned down, the heat of my skin barely an inch from hers, "beg me. Beg me like you mean it."
"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please, please master... fuck me. Please."
"You dirty cunt," I rasped, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat. I wasn't just talking to her anymore; I was talking to the world that had made me this way. "Aren't you so desperate? Go ahead. Show me how much you want it. Touch yourself."
Her bound hands made it awkward, a frantic, fumbling motion that only heightened her shame. I watched her with the clinical eyes of a painter, noting the way the red light caught the sweat on her collarbone.
"Not so fast," I snapped when her rhythm became too frantic. "You can't finish unless I tell you. You belong to the clock tonight, and the clock belongs to me."
She whimpered, a long, drawn-out sound of pure agony and need. "Master, please... please, can I... can I come now? I can't anymore... please..."
I let her hang there for a moment, suspended in that agonizing space between pain and pleasure. I felt the pulse in my own masculine thighs, the steady, rhythmic throb of the brother who lived for this the one who lived for the control I had stolen from him.
"Go on," I finally muttered, a dark permission. "Good girl."
She broke then, her body racking with a force that made the chair creak. "Thank you... thank you, master... thank you..."
"Come here," I said, standing up and moving toward the high, velvet-draped bed in the center of the room. "Crawl for me. To the bed."
She dropped to her knees without a second's hesitation, the rope still binding her wrists as she shuffled across the floor like a wounded animal. I watched the sway of her hips, the absolute submission in her posture.
Oh, brother, I thought, a cold shiver running up my spine that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. See how this bitch is wiggling for you? Enjoy it. At least I can give you this pleasure, even after I devoured you, my dear parasitic brother.
I stepped onto the bed, waiting for her to reach me, feeling the heavy weight of the secret I carried. In this room, she was the slave. But outside, in the light, I was the one in chains bound by a body that was a crime scene, and a soul that was split in two.
I reached down to pull her up, ready to lose myself in the darkness one last time before the sun forced me back into the skin of a girl.