A Night Hunt that Begs for an Explanation
By Ian Cooke, a.k.a. Mr. Scade
Though for most it was a grim and cold and dark and moist night—one night for the chimney’s warm, a ceiling’s protection, and the comfort of a home—for our dear, antagonistic, cold-hearted protagonist it was a mighty perfect night for a hunt. Hunting did she with great joy in her heart, out of need, out of desire, as a way to relief a day’s worth of stress; and, even is she denied it, for the adrenaline rush that every hunt brought to her. A fine night for a hunt, indeed, was it.
Adeline left her mansion of a home with the fine gardens and watery pools, walking, under the shroud of night, towards one of her favourite hunting grounds: a pub. Strolling the lonely streets, rhythmic sounds of heel on cement following her, she pondered inside her twisted head what kind of prey she would go for tonight. Maybe Adeline will hunt for a loner, or a cheater; maybe she’ll go for someone with class or the lowliest of scum. Decisions. Decisions.
The wind whistled in the night, cooling her naked legs and lifting her dress, cooling areas that are not meant to see the world with naked eye; and it was just this that inspired her to go for a kind of prey she had not stalked in months: the handsome, powerful loner. Adeline prepared the scenarios and contingencies in her mind, but her thinking-time was cut short when she found herself in front of a wooden door with metal carvings and, Mark, the porter of the pub. She greeted Mark and went inside, eyes shifting from those of an innocent girl to those of a prey-stalking tiger.
The pub was half-full, or half-empty—depends on which philosophical branch you are part of—with an ambience of camaraderie and ease; just what she wanted. Little light was present in the alcohol-giving precinct and the smell of fancy and cheap drinks alike gave the place an overall intoxicating sensation; just what she needed.
Adeline walked towards the bar, her favourite vantage point, swaying her luscious body from side to side, capturing the eyes of many an alcohol-taster and partygoer. She reached the bar, placed her left hand on the woodwork, turned around, showing her back to the hard-working barman, and then sat on one of many wooden stools. Adeline inspected the bar more closely, looking for a proper prey for the evening. She found none. She could not devise a single person, a single man who aroused her interest enough for her to even try it. Adeline felt depressed.
Defeated, Adeline decided that the pub was not a good hunting ground tonight, and was about to leave when she felt the barman’s hand tap her slightly on her shoulder and heard her name pronounced by the barman’s voice. She turned around and saw a nice glass filled with fine wine—expensive wine.
“It’s from the gentleman from over there, dear.” The barman said, pointing at and referring to a young man in a business suit, that had somehow escaped Adeline’s gaze. The barman returned to his much likeable job and customers, and left Adeline alone to think.
Adeline stared at the young man, looked at his expensive looking suit and well combed hair, and considered his taste in choosing such fine a wine (for this barman never recommends anything) just to get her attention. “Was this indeed tonight’s prey?” Was what Adeline kept on thinking, and she really couldn’t tell her chances on finding another such as he—who moved his right hand in a manner much inviting and most commanding—so, in the end, she settled, and decide that this was indeed tonight’s prey.
Adeline, with glass of red wine in hand, walked towards the young man dressed in the expensive business suit, drinking some of the former mentioned wine in a seductive manner, hips swaying from side to side and red hair dancing on air like leaves in autumn.
She reached the young man, who stared at her like a pirate did to treasure, and sat on one of the many empty stools to his left. The young man greeted Adeline and introduced himself as James. Adeline did likewise. The two started to converse.
Anybody looking at Adeline talking passively and comfortably with James, showing no form of fear or caution while engaging in conversation with this stranger, would say that she was concentrated on that precise moment quite experienced in such situations. Those persons were and are labouring on a lie, for Adeline is very experienced and knows how to cloak her thoughts and work on them at the same time while keeping up her seductive or “cute” or teasing disguise. Adeline was, in that very precise moment, using her most important and special hunting skill. She was pushing her thoughts into his mind.
Oh! Is it a great skill that not all know about and many do possess; thought pushing is what I am referring to and Adeline is a master in the art. She puts her own thoughts and ideas, any thoughts and ideas, into the mind of anyone and anybody she wishes to prey on, making her thoughts and ideas their own.
As many times before, Adeline started the real game by giving her prey a acute sexual attraction to her person and body; this would become evident to her and James due to a growing increase in James’s sex’s size, how increasingly his eyes would divert from her face towards her body and how he, trying his best not to look so, started to get excited. The fruit was ripping.
Adeline kept on pushing her thoughts, slowly and methodically until she got to one of her favourites: “You like this body.” She chanted in his mind, and was about to force more of her traditional hunting routine’s steps when a wild thought crossed her mind: “Why not make this powerful man a subservient little slave?”
She had not had such deviations from her methods, and had not thought of anything new in many years; and Adeline had liked the idea.
But this divine pub was no place for such extreme actions, my friends, and Adeline knew this. She kept on pushing her usual ideas into James’ head, his arousal almost palpable and his mind more open by the thought she pushed into it, until he was ripe enough, with blind fascination and intoxicating arousal, that her wishes became paramount. Adeline suggested they venture back to her house-mansion and James, not questioning the offer, complied and followed his new fetish—referring to a worship idol, mates.
James, in a sudden fit of instinctive initiative, entwined his arm around Adeline’s right. They both strolled the distance towards Adeline’s house-mansion with little conversation beyond James’ erotic pants and suppressed moans and Adeline’s surging ideas for the rest of the night—she was thinking so hard and was she so excited that, had humans had more powerful ears, that you could hear her thoughts. Minutes later, and with both in a state of erotic excitement, they reached the mansion-home of Adeline.
They crossed the house’s threshold into a highly decorated and quickly ignored living room; walked through a hallway filled with imaginative paintings, which, in another situation, James would’ve loved to discuss, to meet steps on a stair; walked up stairs many men’s shoes had stepped on; crossed another hallway and another door into Adeline’s room. The room—her room—was a very big place and highly decorated with impressive ornaments and various, to the amazement of some, erotic art.
But who, in full control of their mental abilities,—which these two weren’t, I might add—would care about such things when there were more arousing matters to discuss?
Adeline commanded James to take off his shoes (verbally not mentally, to make things clear) and to sit on her bed. Now that they both were in a private, quiet place, Adeline could work on her plan to make this important businessman shrivel in fear and pleasure just by looking at her shadow. She walked towards James, trailing an index finger from her mouth all around her dress-covered breasts and down her satin-hugged navel, while pushing one important thought into James’ already cracking mind: “This body of mine has a price.”
James growing arousal became painful since it was trapped inside his trousers. He decided to liberate it; stripping slowly, while Adeline walked towards him. Adeline, realizing James still had some initiative left inside of him, decided it was as good as time to go all the way, so she pushed the next important thought: “The price is to submit to me.”
James stopped stripping—his belt undone, zipper down, erection sneaking out, suit halfway off of him, and tie nowhere to be seen. Adeline was already inches away from James, far enough to smell his arousal; eyes preying on his body and vice versa. She pushed another thought: “That’s right, you want me so bad, so very bad, James, but if you want to taste me you better start obeying me.”
James looked into Adeline’s stern eyes.
“Strip, James.” Adeline commanded in a sultry whisper, and stepped back two steps.
James abruptly stood up, and immediately removed what little clothes he had left on. “I’ll do anything you say, if I get to taste you.” Said he, while struggling with his shirt.
Adeline stared at James body, not perfect but good in it’s own way, before responding, in the same seductive whisper she had mastered over the years: “Oh, no, James. If you want to taste me, to touch me, to “do” me, you need to be much more polite and subservient. You have to treat me with the respect I deserve. Now, kneel!”
“Treat me with respect and fascination, obey me and you’ll be rewarded” Adeline pushed through James’ skull and into his mind.
“Yes... mistress?” James responded, with some insecurity, considering his current situation.
That single word sent Adeline in a nostalgia trip to many years ago, to the time when she started hunting and the time where she made her “victims” call her Mistress Adeline, something that she really enjoyed hearing but stopped doing. Now that James had called her that, Adeline felt that she, for old times’ sake, should use it.
“Mistress Adeline, for you.” Adeline said, in the harshest tone she could manage, without loosing her trademark seductive whisper, while pushing the same thought into James’ mind.
“I am Mistress Adeline. Your Mistress.” She pushed into his mind, moulding his way of thinking into what she wanted—needed in that moment. “I command you and you obey and you like it.”
James closed his eyes for a moment and shrivelled. “Yes...” He said dreamingly, “Yes, Mistress Adeline, you command me.”
A smile crept over Adeline’s face, a smile full mischief, a smile on a face splattered with arousal-induced joy. “I am yours.” Adeline made James think, “Command me, Mistress.” She made James believe, “Mistress Adeline has total power over me.” She made James understand, “I am Mistress Adeline’s slave.” She made James be.
Mistress Adeline, like James, could hardly contain her arousal.
“Command me! Use me! I am your obedient slave, your willing toy! Play with me, Mistress!” Slave James proclaimed, his voice cracking with arousal and joy.
Mistress Adeline could hardly take it anymore. Up to this point her excitement over this prey was moderate, but now, after making him into this, that excitement had grown into arousal; and Mistress Adeline had never been so aroused until this day—this night. Her body tingled all over; her nipples, on well cared beautiful breasts, trying to reach the heavens; her hands fidgeting to find her sex; and her sex, growing as moist as the tropics, producing fluids and smells of such a delicious quality that the very ambience and atmosphere of the room had become live arousal itself.
“Slave, take off my clothes, slowly and... gently.” Mistress Adeline commanded Slave James.
Slave James, still kneeling and mad with arousal and blind with obedience, placed his hands on Mistress Adeline’s legs and started to move them upwards, gently caressing her legs on the way. Mistress Adeline moaned—Slave James shuddered. Slave James hand reached mid-tight, just where Mistress Adeline’s dress ended, and, without letting his hands completely off of Mistress Adeline, grabbed the dress’ hem and kept on moving upwards—his body following suit—slowly caressing the curves of Mistress Adeline’s body. Mistress Adeline shuddered for the hands on her; Slave James moaned for the chance of touching his Mistress.
His hands, past the navel, reached her breasts where they stopped to give them extra love—a quick massage—before continuing. Mistress Adeline lifted her arms, and Mistress James led the purple satin dress through the forearms’ way before she calmly lowered her arms in a way that they now were pointing at Slave James. He pulled the dress towards him until it reached her fingertips; there, he fondled her fingers before the dress fell on to the floor. Mistress Adeline was panting—Slave James licked his lips.
“My hands caress your body, slave.” Mistress Adeline pushed into Slave James’ mind, making him feel the exact same sensations he had made her feel, rewarding him for pleasing her.
“Now...” Mistress Adeline said, in-between her panting, before sitting on the bed and rising her left foot, “Remove my heels, slave.”
“Yes, my Mistress.” Responded Slave James, in his most servile voice yet.
Slave James proceeded to remove the heel from his Mistress’ foot, likewise caressing and massaging his way through the process. Once the heel was off, Mistress Adeline raised her right foot. James repeated the process.
Now, both were stark naked, lusting for each other, looking into one another’s body, craving to taste each other.
Mistress Adeline started to touch her body all around; starting with the tights, her palms on them, her fingers caressing the insides; her navel followed suit, her hands finding each other on her bellybutton it before parting and rising towards her breasts; there, they stayed longer, fondling the mounds in circular motions, caressing the heaven seeking nipples. While her hands worked on her breasts, she looked at Slave James, kneeling, waiting to be commanded, with a mighty erection between his powerful tights.
“You want to bring me the most pleasure you can, don’t you, slave?” Said Mistress Adeline, in a very low tone, an arousal-filled tone, while caressing her breasts.
“Oh, very much, Mistress. This slave just exists to bring you maximum pleasure.” Said Slave James with his newfound, yet perfected servile tone.
“You have to win that right, slave. You need to win it.” Mistress Adeline said that last sentence as much as she pushed it into Slave James’ mind.
“You’ll win it your tongue is as good as your hands were on my body,” Mistress Adeline stopped touching her towering nipples, and moved her hands back to her opening legs, onto her tights and into them, finding her fat sex, dripping with delicious juices, reeking of intoxicating scents. “In this very special and privileged place.” She lightly tapped her sex.
“Lick me, slave. Taste me, slave; you like it.” She thought inside Slave James’ mind.
His faces glazed over, joy creeping conquering it’s shape. “Yes, Mistress! Yes!” Slave James proclaimed in joyful submission to his Mistress as to the four winds. “This slave is forever in debt for this.”
Slave James placed his hand on Mistress Adeline’s knees and moved them towards her tights, he then projected his face and directed his tongue towards Adeline’s sex, striking it with furious yet loving force, sending shivers, shudders and moans through Adeline’s body.
Mistress Adeline was in blissful stupefaction. She, in all of her hunting years, had never found a tongue as skilled as this; Slave James was indeed a master. “More, slave; don’t stop until your face if full with my orgasms.” Mistress Adeline thought into Slave James’ mind.
His tongue twisted and curled and stroke and licked sending all manners of pleasure through Mistress Adeline’s body, forcing it to curl it’s toes, grab the bed’s sheets, arch her back, and touch her back with the back of her head before a mighty, if not the mightiest, of orgasms Mistress Adeline had ever felt started to build up and to find it’s way into her horizon.
Finally, Slave James did something with his tongue, something that Mistress Adeline, to this day, still doesn’t understand. Something that contracted all of her muscles and threw her into an uncontrollable spasm fit, and a song of moans; bringing with it more orgasms and pleasure she could ever imagine were possible; and what made it really special, a really unique experience was that it was her command that made Slave James give her this majestic gift.
“Mistress is pleased,” Said Slave James, licking his lips, “With my performance, I gather.”
“God! YES I AM!” Mistress Adeline screamed into Slave James’ mind, giving him a blissful look of happiness and pride and accomplishment.
“Now...” She said in-between heavy pants and leftover spasms, “Come... and kiss... me... slave... you can... enter me...”
Slave James gently climbed on top of Mistress Adeline, kissing his way up her body till his face was finally in front of hers; he then kissed her full on her red, full lips. Mistress Adeline was, once again, taken aback with Slave James’ prowess; not only was he the best kisser that had ever touched her lips with his, but the combined idea of it being really hers and the taste of her own juices on his lips made it into a mighty enjoyable experience.
“Slave,” Said Mistress Adeline, softly into his ear, “You can... insert yourself into... me.” A dreaming look crawled upon Slave James and Mistress Adeline’s faces alike.
Slave James’ erection had been raging for long enough, waiting it’s turn to feel pleasure; it went inside Mistress Adeline with such ease and expertise and, yet, force that it blurred Adeline’s vision.
“Deeper, slave. Deeper and faster, obedient slave; deeper into your Mistress.” Into the mind of Slave James whispered Mistress Adeline.
Slave James complied with his Mistress’ wish and went deeper into her, faster into her, then slower into her; alternating all the variables in the manner of an expert and master of the craft. In and out, deep and shallow; moving it inside of her, in circular motions, or up-and-down—Mistress Adeline was in heaven. The masterful hip-thrusts of Slave James, and his loving lips on Mistress Adeline’s lips, necks and shoulders went on for hours before she commanded him to bring her closer and closer to another set of orgasms. Slave James started groaning and moaning, clearly the pleasure taking him over, just as Adeline was close enough to touch the new, incoming orgasmic torrent.
“Cum with me, slave. Cum and make your Mistress cum at the same time, slave.” Mistress Adeline whispered and thought.
And again, Slave James did something that Mistress Adeline wouldn’t understand for years to come; but that didn’t matter, for it rocked her world, both mental and physical—she was in Nirvana, in heaven, in paradise... she was in all of them—before she passed out.
Mistress Adeline woke at Slave James caress, he was still lying between her legs, stroking her navel, a dreamy look on his face.
“That... was amazing, slave.” Said a drained Mistress Adeline.
“This slave is happy for your pleasure, Mistress.” Said Slave James, before rising.
Mistress Adeline thought he might continue caressing her, but, instead, he walked towards where all of his clothes lay and picked them up one by one. Adeline looked at him, clear confusion crawling up her face.
“No,” She thought to herself, “I want—I need MORE.”
“Slave, come back and continue pleasuring Adeline.” Adeline said out loud, her voice cracking.
James looked back at her; a look of curiosity and amazement making it’s way up his face. He continued picking up his clothes and started dressing, but not taking his eyes off of her. Adeline stared back, too exhausted to push any thoughts, and hoping that the residue of the evening would still hold.
James started putting on his underwear. “Oh... Now I get it!” He said with a smile, bottoming his shirt, “You thought you really were the one in control.”
Adeline tried to respond to that, but she was far too tired to think or do anything but listen and desperately push thoughts into James’ mind.
“I am so sorry, Adeline,” James said while putting on his trousers, “I usually do not mislead people this way. You see, I love being in the slave position and am actually rather good at it, as you have well experienced.”
Adeline groaned, still dumbfounded at James resistance to her commands.
“But I’ve never really being able to find the right natural mistress,” He said, putting on his socks and shoes, “So, every couple of nights I go out, find a girl and push thoughts into her so she becomes my mistress for the night. Normally, I tell them that but it’s just that you were so interesting and so into the role, and I so into being a slave—though it was stronger than any other time—that I completely forgot about it. Can you forgive me?” Last sentence was said with what some could consider a “cute” smile.
Adeline stared at him from her juice-stained bed, trying desperately to push any thoughts for him to stay and continue even though she had no energies left, and moaned.
“I’ll take that as a maybe, then.” He said, grabbing the rest of his things, “I’ll make myself scarce, then. Don’t worry, I’ll close up,” He turned to leave but stopped in his tracks. “You know, you’ve been the best at this, Mistress.” He then closed the door to her room; she heard him going down the stair’s steps before passing out.
This was our protagonist’s story, one of the many she has to share but the only one that really stands out and is worth remarking on—a very special and unique story.
Adeline still prowls the night for prey, but now she has changed her methods and deviation doesn’t exist for her, since every new prey is a new role; but Adeline still remembers that night, as many few can be remembered, she still dwells on the magic of it and still, to this day, asks herself the question that everyone begs to be answered: Who really was the one controlling who, Mistress Adeline, or Slave James?