Chapter 1
When Edward Hawthorne brought Henry Vance to Riverside Hall to find Richard Blackwood, Clara Rivers was in the midst of an intimate moment with Richard in his upstairs office. She sat gracefully on Richard's lap, her delicate, fair arms coiling around his neck as their lips intertwined. Clara wore a white, fitted Qipao that hugged her figure, the top button undone to reveal a hint of black lace underneath. Richard’s hands roamed possessively, one cupping her soft breast while the other teased her waist, inching lower to lift the hem of her dress just above her thigh. “Mmm…” Clara instinctively tightened her legs around Richard's hand, yet her hips twisted in response, releasing a soft, languid purr akin to a little cat. The sound made Richard’s breath quicken. He reluctantly moved his hand away from her breast and reached towards the desk drawer. As the drawer creaked open, Clara jolted, her half-closed eyes snapping open to see what he was up to. It was the drawer where Richard kept his hidden ‘toys’. “Stop, we’re still in the office!” Clara gasped, turning her head away from his lips and gripping his wrist. “What’s wrong with the office?” Richard's voice was a low rasp, his lips grazing her tender cheek as he whispered against her ear, “Do you think anyone here hasn't heard you moan?” Clara went silent, a flicker of unease rising within her. Richard chuckled, noticing the pink blush blooming on her ears. He detached her hand and unfastened the metal clasp of the velvet box, revealing an array of tantalizing devices: a vibrating pleasure toy, a massage wand, and some textured finger caps. “Choose one.” Feeling her heart race at the sight of the flesh-colored vibrator, Clara forced a smile, shyly pointing at the finger caps instead. But Richard smirked, picking up the vibrator. “Don’t you like this one? Just a few days ago, it had you coming undone.” That was Richard’s latest toy, which he had dubbed ‘The Delighter’. Just the other day, he had insisted she try it out in the office. She had responded overwhelmingly, losing herself in the moment and dampening the couch in the process. Richard had been relentless, and it took the sudden arrival of their boss and James Windhurst to pull him away, or she would have surely succumbed to him yet again. Despite being physically bound, Richard was fueled by an intense desire. His natural deficiencies didn’t dull his passion; if anything, they amplified it. He had a penchant for pushing boundaries, using an array of devices to extract every ounce of pleasure, leaving women pleading for release.
Chapter 2
Richard Blackwood had multiple mistresses, and Clara Rivers was just one of them. However, among all his flings, she had stayed with Richard the longest—two years, to be exact. As a mistress, not only had Clara managed to stay by Richard’s side for two years, but she also had the official title of manager at Riverside Hall. This was no small feat, considering Richard was a married man. Clara was clever, attentive to Richard’s mood, and adept at playing her role. Although internally disgusted, she knew how to feign enthusiasm because she understood Richard's preferences. With a coy look, she teased, “If you’re into this, come to my place tonight. Otherwise, we'll have to find a new couch.” “Can't you just ask Eastwood to get a new couch?” “…” It seemed there was no escaping tonight. “Be good now; let's have a little fun,” Richard said smoothly, closing the lid of the box he was holding and placing it on his office desk. “Take off your panties.” Realizing she couldn't slip away, Clara internally sighed but displayed a seductive smile. She stood up from his lap, sliding her hand under her cheongsam to hook the waistband of her black lace panties. Slowly, she bent over and pulled them down inch by inch. Richard watched her unhurriedly, toying with a fake flower in his hands. When Clara finally placed her panties delicately on the armrest of the chair, he grabbed her waist and pulled her back to his lap. “Sit,” his voice turned husky. Clara hiked up her cheongsam, straddled Richard's lap, and gently lowered herself down. Her pale, slender legs emerged from the dress, brushing against his khaki slacks and lightly resting on the ground. Under the cheongsam’s shadow, the contours of her intimate area became faintly visible. Heat filled Richard’s gaze as he pulled aside the obstructive fabric, revealing everything under the bright overhead light—the sparse hair and the bud at the apex. Despite two years of playing, it was still a tantalizing shade of cherry. He narrowed his eyes in admiration, placing his large hand on Clara’s smooth thigh. His thumb brushed along the inner side rhythmically, until he reached the bud and flicked it lightly. “Mm…” Clara hummed softly, her legs trembling slightly. “So tender,” Richard murmured, inserting his middle finger in, meeting no resistance in the slick warmth. He hit her sensitive spot with practiced ease, rough and relentless. Clara’s grip tightened on his beige Polo shirt, her body conditioned to Richard’s touch over the past two years. Her reactions were instant, her folds clenching around his finger, which only pleased Richard further. Her eyes brimmed with a flush of red—the look of vulnerability and desire something he took great pride in. “Missed this, haven’t you?” He curled his finger, eliciting a deeper response from Clara, her lips biting down as her body shuddered from his rough ministrations. Wet and tight, it felt like her body wanted to swallow his finger whole. Clara’s voice caught in her throat; all she could manage were breathy gasps and little moans. Richard’s eyes darkened with a twisted pleasure, knowing he'd never truly feel that softness causing him such frustration. Lost in that thought, he intensified his motion, enjoying every moment of Clara's vulnerability.
Chapter 3
"Ugh—" Clara Rivers moaned as a mix of sharp, tingling sensations pulsed through her, making her arch her back. "Slut," Richard Blackwood growled as he pulled his hand away, leaving a trail of clear liquid. Clara's body relaxed slightly, and she panted softly as Richard pushed his fingers wet with her fluids up to her lips. He touched her tongue briefly before exploring lower, between her thighs. The unique texture of the silicone made Clara's body stiffen momentarily. The device's cup-like end had enveloped her entire pubic area, and its tongue-tip was pressing right against her clit. "Suck or lick?" Richard asked quietly. Clara's heart skipped a beat, her reply came in a low voice, "Suck." A chuckle escaped Richard, as if he had seen through her completely, though he said nothing more. He turned the device to its medium sucking setting. The silicone mouthpiece started to vibrate, stimulating the sensitive flesh between her thighs and the labia inside. The tingling sensations seeped into her core as the tongue-tip continued to press against her clit, making it throb with a mix of irritation and pleasure. Clara could not control her shaking legs or the quivering of her body. Her fingers clutched at the fabric on Richard's shoulder, tightening and relaxing in rhythm with the pulses, while her toes curled inside her shoes. Each pulse of the vibrator drew more air out of the room, creating a mild suction. The sensation grew stronger, and Clara could feel the liquid being pulled from her steadily. Her jaw went slack as she gasped and moaned. Even on this medium setting, Clara was nearly overwhelmed. She knew that the higher, licking setting would push her to the brink—just like the last time when both were used together, nearly driving her to the point of collapse. "Feeling good?" Richard tilted his head to look at her, one hand pressing the device firmly against her, while the other hand leisurely unfastened the last two buttons on her top. "Less…oh…" Clara mumbled, torn between discomfort and thrill. But weirdly, the high didn't bring her satisfaction; instead, an empty, itching feeling pooled within her lower abdomen, making her restless. "I was thinking of turning it up even more," Richard teased as he undid her bra with one hand. "Hold it yourself." Clara quickly moved her hand from Richard's shoulder to take hold of the vibrator between her legs. Holding it herself meant the security of possibly loosening it if she couldn’t handle it. The thought hadn’t fully formed in her head when Richard grumbled, pulling her top fully apart. "Don't think about slacking off, or I'll turn on both the sucking and licking." Clara's chest tightened at the threat, and she quickly pressed the device back in place. The silicone tongue made contact with her clitoris again, making her shudder and release soft gasping breaths. Richard's lips curled slightly as he pushed up her black lace bra, exposing her firm breasts. His head lowered, and he took her left nipple into his mouth, making it tremble in the cool air. Clara's slight cunning didn’t escape Richard's notice. But he liked this side of her—it pleased him.
Chapter 4
In the Great Hall of Riverside Hall, a pole dance was already in progress. A woman clad in black lingerie and lace thong was twisting and turning her body on stage with fervor. Her performance wasn't exactly professional, but her voluptuous figure – generous curves, a soft waist – captured the attention of several men below, causing a wave of excitement; some were already shouting for her to strip. However, pole dancing wasn't just striptease; it was about the allure, the thrill of seeing how much cash one could offer to seduce the dancer. Edward Hawthorne and Henry Vance entered the hall just as the dancer was grabbing cash from Little Jacob and slowly loosening the laces of her corset, twisting her waist enticingly. Edward, ahead in line with a cigarette hanging from his lips, paused, a smirk spreading across his face. He turned to Henry, who was standing a head taller, “Well, you’re in luck! Right when you walk in, you get a bit of a show.” Henry Vance remained stoic, his expression unchanged as he stared at the dancer’s bosom swaying under the lights. The visual impact was primal for men – the bright, inviting sight of her curves made the blood pulse through his veins with a newfound urgency. Seeing Henry's trancelike gaze, Edward chuckled, “Aren't you a former Boy Scout? No need to be so uptight!” Henry finally brought his gaze away from the stage to meet Edward’s eyes, maintaining his composed demeanor, not a word escaping his lips. “Well, to be honest,” Edward continued, nonchalantly, “she isn’t all that impressive. Sure, she has big assets, but they’re saggy. Let’s hit upstairs to find Eastwood. I’ll hook you up with someone who’s both big and perky!” Henry nodded slightly, acknowledging the plan. Edward wrapped an arm around his shoulder and rushed toward the staircase leading to the upper floor. Why linger around when they could indulge? Watching and not partaking was a drag. They decided to head upstairs to find Eastwood, hoping to choose a 'princess' for a private chamber rendezvous later. As they walked, Edward felt his arousal increase, the fabric of his pants growing restrictive. He tugged at the waistband, casting a sideways glance toward Henry’s groin. To his surprise, there was no sign of excitement. “Hey, Vance,” he nudged, “how long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?” Henry thought for a moment, “Five years.” “Get out! I don't believe this! I can barely go six months without bursting, and you’re completely unfazed?” Edward shot another look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “What, you can’t perform anymore?” Henry's thick brows furrowed slightly, “I can perform.” Edward burst into laughter, “You’re killing me, Vance!” For a brief moment, Henry was caught off guard. His frown lifted just slightly, his lips curling into a nearly imperceptible smirk. They turned past the Tavern Counter and walked along a short corridor before stepping into the lift to the upper floor. As the doors slid open, Henry spotted a clear view of the Glass House directly across. Inside, a multitude of women were seated, each dressed in elegant white gowns with silver trim, deep V-necks. Outside the Glass House, two well-dressed men stood with their backs to the lift, whispering conspiratorially. Beside them was a server in a crisp white shirt and red tie, hands gently clasped over her midsection, bowing slightly as if she was waiting for their next command.
Chapter 5
The second floor was calm, a stark contrast to the lively first floor, yet there was still an undercurrent of excitement that made his blood race—only now, it was even more pronounced. Henry Vance followed closely behind Edward Hawthorne as they exited the elevator, his gaze briefly skimming over the temptations of the Glass House before he instinctively turned to scan the area. "Hey—Eastwood! You’re back?!" A young girl behind the counter waved eagerly at Edward, clearly familiar with him. Edward had been part of Riverside Hall since its inception, shadowing Richard Blackwood. A little over six months ago, in a drunken haze, a brawl escalated under his watch—two people ended up seriously injured. News spread rapidly, especially since one of the victims had connections, and Richard Blackwood had promptly advised Edward to lay low until the dust settled. Edward had fled before, but this time, he grabbed his things and hightailed it to Brightland. There, a distant relative offered refuge in Stronghold, a secluded spot perfect for hiding out, just a river away from Myanmar. He figured if anything went sideways, he could easily slip away across the river. Of course, even without the trouble, he’d still take the chance to enjoy himself over there. His introduction to Henry Vance came out of necessity; a couple months stuck in Garrison was exhausting, and he needed a break, which led him right back to trouble. If he hadn’t bumped into Henry, who knows how long he would’ve stayed gone? Now that he was back, he was determined to keep his head down. But seeing the pretty girl at the counter lighting up upon his arrival, he couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Look at you, so excited to see Eastwood back! Got a little crush on me, huh?” he teased, swaggering over with a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his lips. The girl smirked, wearing a cheongsam. “I have a boyfriend.” “Come on! You haven’t broken up yet?” “All good things take time!” she shot back playfully. “You’re such a drag!” Edward chuckled, noticing the girl next to the cashier who had remained quietly in the background. She was pretty, with delicate features and a shy demeanor, the kind Edward found appealing. “Is this girl new?” The girl blushed under Edward’s scrutiny and lowered her gaze. Before she could say anything, the cashier pulled her behind her. “She’s been here for two months, and she’s my friend—and she also has a boyfriend!” “Seriously? You guys are no fun!” Edward rolled his eyes at the cashier girl. Edward had average looks but sported a scruffy beard that he thought made him look rugged and manly. At 28, he often came off as a grizzled 38, especially with his sharp eyebrows that seemed ever-ready to scowl. But the cashier showed no fear, her smile bright as she leaned on the counter. “So, Eastwood, where have you been for the last six months?” “Where do you think? Hiding out in the Garrison with old Lucas. You think I’m out vacationing?” The girl frowned, pouting playfully, her lips stuck out in mock defiance. Edward hated that look on women. “What’s with that face?” “Fine, if you’re not telling, I’m not going to force you.” “Alright, alright! My bad! Just don’t pout like that or I might just—” The girl laughed, clearly amused. Edward turned his attention back to the task at hand. “By the way, Eastwood must be in the office, right?”
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