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Evil Author Day 2020 Original Work "First Pages"

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“Why are you calling me again, Jacob?” signed Morgan Stephanos as he moved around his small apartment, gathering up what he would need for his night out. He wasn’t sure why he had actually answered the call from his ex when he simply wanted to go out before the fireworks started. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment.

“It’s Edward! ” hissed the irritated voice in his ear, and Morgan couldn’t help but smirk at that tone. It was one of the main reasons why he insisted on calling the stupid werewolf by the wrong name. Petty revenge, but considering what the wolf had threatened to do to him plus this strange sort of stalking, well, Morgan was going to get his thrills where he could. The voice took on a plaintive whimper as his ex continued. “I miss you. What will it take for me to get you back?”

Shaking his head, Morgan rolled his eyes at how dense the other was being. “Didn't I promise to feed you your still beating heart if you ever darkened my doorstep again?”

“You were upset and didn’t mean it,” huffed the werewolf, reminding Morgan more of a toddler who wasn’t getting his way instead of a grown man who was nearly thirty years old. “I forgave you before you left my place.”

“You threatened to literally cut off my balls so I’d be a better bitch for you,” drawled Morgan, letting some of his own temper bleed into his voice. Apparently the idiot hadn’t listened to a thing he had said when he left, and now Morgan was stuck repeating himself. “You wanted to dictate every part of my life from who I could see to what I was allowed to eat.”

“Garlic makes me sneeze,” came the grumbled reply, and Morgan rolled his eyes again as he slid the garter and its pouch up his leg to rest under the skirt of his sequin covered dress. It was his favorite with an ombre fade from pale aqua to a deep teal, and the matching heels made his legs look fabulous.

“That’s a pitiful excuse and you know it!” snapped Morgan, coming to the end of his patience with this conversation. “You didn’t want a submissive. You wanted a living sex doll that would do everything you said. Someone you could take off the shelf and play with until you got bored and put it back until the next time you have an itch to scratch.” He growled, baring his fangs even though the idiot couldn’t see the action. “When I started talking about a possible contract between us, you started coming up with all sorts of excuses as to why you weren’t ready for a contract. Frankly, the thought of someone like you with a submissive of any kind makes me want to call the police and have you marked as an abuser.”

“I don’t abuse anyone! I give them exactly what they want!”

“No, you offered what you thought I wanted to hear and then tried to take more than I was willing to give,” growled Morgan, stalking towards the door. “Do not call me again. I won’t make the mistake of answering your number.” He briefly toyed with the idea of warning the man that he was already filled out a restraining order against him but decided to not bother. He would find out when the police delivered it to him in the morning. Instead, Morgan simply hung up on the werewolf’s whining and fiddled with his ear phone for a few moments, blocking the number, before locking his door and heading out into the street.

The bioluminescent trees cast a soft light over the streets and the people that were out wandering, and Morgan paused for a moment to watch some fireflies twinkle in the plants that were growing out of the various buildings, giving the night an almost Underworld like appearance. Morgan paused for a few minutes and soaked up the peace and celebration that was happening around him. Many merry makers called out happy greetings as they went past while the hover cars passed by on the grassy roads that ran between the buildings.

It was the yearly celebration marking the anniversary of the Great Calamity’s Ending, similar to the ancient Fourth of July celebrations from the United States of America with picnics, parades, and fireworks after sunset while those that did not appreciate the loud displays that illuminated the night sky found refuge in various establishments that remained open later in the night than usual to take advantage of the festive atmosphere.

It was towards one of those establishments that Morgan made his way to, his dress shimmering in the lights, and he knew he was attracting the attention of many people, some letting him know with an appreciative whistle while a few made a clumsy and heavy handed pass at him which he gently turned down with a few kind words. He had to admit that he did enjoy the attention, especially when he was wearing a flashy dress and heels, because it made him feel much more appreciated and attractive. Something he could really use today as this day always reminded him of the friends he had lost over the years as well as those lost during the Great Calamity’s early years when humanity had tried to enslave the nonhumans that had appeared out of the shadows and legends to use as living weapons against the other humans.

The Golden Dream was an upscale club for the well to do and their friends in the private half of the club, and Morgan had to grin at those that were lined up waiting to get in. Many were dressed as what they thought was appropriate for a fetish club with a lot of leather, lace, chains, and more than a little skin. Those were for the Commoner side of the club as it was known among the various members. That side provided a bit of wildness for a night, but the bouncers were more strict on that side, acting more like babysitters than guards to ensure no one was severely injured or accidentally killed because some foolish young thing wanted to try something they read about in a fiction book or worse, saw in a porn cartoon where laws of physics and anatomy were completely ignored.

Ignoring the line, Morgan walked up to the front and to the door next to the one everyone was lined up to get into. He smiled at the doorman there. “Good evening, Mr. Brown. How have you been?”

“Can’t complain, sir,” rumbled the mountain of a man, grinning at Morgan and showing off his sharper than human teeth. It always amused Morgan that those waiting always gave Frankie, who was often decked in leather and chains, the wary eye when it was Mr. Brown in his neatly pressed suit who could easily rip them in two without breaking a sweat. Frankie was a large, muscular human, true, but Mr. Brown was a werebear. “Any trouble I should be aware of?”

Morgan sighed and lifted his skirt to dig out his membership card from the garter pouch. “I’ve filed a restraining order against Edward Jefferson which he’ll be receiving in the morning, but there was a rather terse phone call before I came over.”

“Very good, sir. If he arrives, I shall pass a warning onto you so you may avoid him,” Mr. Brown stated, barely glancing at the card before handing it back, and Morgan gave him a thankful smile before entering the club. He paused just past the coat check girl to return his card to the pouch before stepping past the curtain to be enveloped by the quiet conversations and clink of fine dining as various people enjoyed their company and the atmosphere as much as their submissives or dominants. The tables were well made with some bearing intricate carvings along the edges and legs while the seats were comfortably padded to encourage people to linger as long as they wished. Off to one side was a thick glass wall that muffled the pounding music that was coming from the public side of the club, allowing those that wished to watch the mass of dancers as they writhed to the beat under the flickering colors of the sun crystals.

After stopping by the bar and picking up a bottle of red wine and a glass, Morgan made his way to a booth off to one side that would allow him to watch the entire first floor of the club without being obnoxious about it. He settled sideways in the booth, stretching his long legs out on the seat, and poured himself a glass before he placed the bottle far enough away that he wouldn’t accidentally knock it over.

The next few hours provided highly interesting as various people passed by his table. It always amused him when the humans tried to figure out if he was male or female without blatantly asking. There had been some light flirtings as well as a few carefully worded offers to explore a couple of the private rooms which he turned down. He had a few flings and one night stands, but that had been a while ago, and he was rather wanting something a bit more long term and stable. Red eyes followed a male vampire leading his elf submissive through the club on a leash and collar, and Morgan’s smile turned wistful. That was what he wanted to be honest, to have a caring Dominant that understood that just because he was a vampire didn’t mean they could abuse him for their own amusement. Or worse, try to use his family connections to improve their own standing which was something he was sure his ex would have wanted to do if he had known the truth.

Shaking his head at the direction his thoughts were turning, Morgan drained the rest of his glass before pouring himself a new one. He would find someone for himself or perhaps they would find him. For now, he was satisfied with what he had while needing to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. While he was rich enough to not need a job to live, he preferred helping others when and where he could. It had been a few months since his last steady job, and now he was finding himself bored and itching to help again. Perhaps in the morning, he would search through the Help Wanted ads in the daily paper to see where he might be of some assistance.

“Good evening, pretty one,” greeted a smooth voice, and Morgan looked up to find a delightfully handsome man standing there. Piercing green eyes held mischief while dark hair was neatly styled as it brushed his shoulders, and from the tailored appearance of his suit, this was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life without seeming gaudy about it. Not like his ex who tried to be classy but only came out looking sleazy and cheap.

“Good evening,” Morgan replied with an elegant dop of his head before he decided to give into impulse. He swung his legs off the seat, tucking them under the table and leaving the spot next to him available for the man to sit down. “Care to join me?” There was something about him that made Morgan want to get to know him better.

"Far be it for one so lowly as I to refuse to be seated next to such beauty," the man said, sliding into the seat with an unconscious grace that pricked at Morgan’s curiosity. This man was obviously not a vampire as he didn’t have the usual red eyes of one, nor did he have the otherworldly beauty of an elf. It was possible he was a shifter, but all of the shifters that Morgan had met previously often had a growl to their words, as if their animal spirit was always just below the surface of their skin. Yet, the feeling Morgan was getting from the man was something other than the plain human he resembled.

Morgan laughed at the man’s words. “Perhaps I should check your teeth to see if they are being damaged by your silver tongue,” he teased, flashing his own fangs at the man more out of curiosity to see what the man would do.

"Oh, my tongue only has a little bit of silver to it," the man said with a laugh, exposing the silver tongue piercing. Well that certainly ruled out any shifter as silver was a poison to them when it got into the bloodstream, yet it made Morgan even more intrigued by this man. At a glance, the man resembled someone high in a corporation or other such businesses, yet the tongue piercing indicated that there was a more wild side to him as such decorations were still looked upon as a rebellion of some sort.

“Your lover must be a lucky person if you are as skilled with your tongue as you are your words,” laughed Morgan, opening the conversation to the possibility of further negotiations. He may have been hoping for something more long term, but he wasn’t going to refuse a chance to take a tumble with this one.

The man shrugged, tilting his head so a lock of hair slid over his shoulder. "My Mistress is amused by me as much as I am by her, thank all the gods,” he said with a smile before reaching out to twirl a lock of Morgan’s ice white hair around a finger. “But what of you, pretty one? Surely one with your grace and beauty has an owner."

Morgan sighed, shaking his head as he ran a finger around the lip of his wine glass to give himself something to fiddle with. “Alas, I have not found one,” he confessed, his voice casual but he knew he hadn’t managed to hide the faint trace of longing in his tone. "I confess to being a bit picky with any who might wish to claim me, and that chases more than a few off."

"Oh? Do tell me about this," the man said, leaning forward with interest in his eyes. “I had many stipulations for ownership myself so I understand your position."

“I am a vampire thus have certain dietary requirements,” began Morgan, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to accidentally lie through omission as that could most definitely ruin a relationship. “However, because I’m a vampire that does not give any potential owner the right to harm me just to explore how durable I am.” A shiver slid down his spine in remembrance of those past incidents, and he would be forever thankful that he had been able to use The Golden Dream to vette those failed owners before anything severe happened to him.

"Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser," mused the man, leaning back to stare at Morgan before his eyes flashed from green to red and back. "I do understand your issue to a certain extent."

Well, that was certainly different! Was the man of Fae blood, thus allowing his eyes to change like that? Or was there another reason behind the brief change of color? He added it to the list of questions he wanted to ask this man before returning to their casual negotiations. "Because of my history, there are certain kinks and scenarios I am uncomfortable with. I also refuse to give up contact with any friends and family I have because some Dom wishes to have complete control of my life."

“All very reasonable,” came the response from the man along with a small smile. “Are you inclined to 24/7 ownership with occasional playtime?”

“Yes. I find I am happiest when taking care of another,” Morgan announced, hesitantly willing to hope. He had hoped to meet someone who might be his owner eventually, but to have it almost be dropped in his lap like this was a bit hard to believe. Being a 24/7 submissive meant that his owner would have him around constantly, thus allowing him to take care of them in his own way.

"Interesting. My Mistress has mentioned needing a 24/7 sub as most of us are in and out at various times due to other things going on in our lives. I can take you to meet her if you'd like. If one or the other of you aren't interested, she may at least be able to direct you to someone who would suit your needs." The man looked at Morgan with a searching gaze as if expecting the vampire to back out now that the offer had been extended or to bring out some sort of excuse as to why this meeting wouldn’t happen tonight.

Instead, Morgan waved a hand in a grand gesture, motioning for his companion to get out of the seat so he could stand up. He was not going to let such an opportunity pass him by. "Your Mistress is most courteous and I would enjoy meeting with her to speak of such things."

Smiling, the man tucked Morgan’s hand in his arm, and Morgan shivered slightly at the heat he could feel through the layers of clothes the man wore as they heading towards the grand staircase located off to one side that led up to the private rooms that were for meetings or to allow those with the money to rent them for a private engagement. Morgan had been in them a few times, but none of those meetings had worked out to his chagrin. Hopefully this one would be different. “I believe my Mistress will enjoy meeting you a great deal. I have never met a two toned vampire before.”

Morgan softly huffed as a hand automatically went to his ice white hair and the twin black stripes at his temples. “Most believe I dye them in which I am happy to let them instead of confessing to family that far too many would want to take advantage of.”

The man hummed and looked at Morgan thoughtfully, even as the vampire managed to easily walk in his high heels, showing long practice in wearing them. Morgan decided to get a better feel for the woman he was going to meet. “How many subs does your Mistress currently have?”

"Three at the moment, including myself. I suppose I'm her longest running sub as we've been together for years at this point," the man remarked with a casual shrug as he continued staring at Morgan. “I have a question for you.”

"All right. What is it?"

"Are you jealous by nature? Because she's had several contract with her only to get jealous of me or one of the others and she's had to release them. This was after we'd all gotten attached to them and I'd really rather not put her or any of the others through that sort of thing again if I can help it."

“No, I am one of the least jealous people around, much to my own detriment at times,” Morgan explained with a laugh. He was much more willing to step aside and let others be happy together even if it meant he lost out on something he wanted. He could be jealous about some things, but he was careful to never let it poison his life if he could help it.