Crystal Haze

The letter arrives on a rainless Tuesday. No return address. Just black silk folded with machine precision, sealed in crimson wax that smells faintly of roses and dominance. You open it with clumsy fingers. Inside: a formal acceptance letter from Nexus University. Full scholarship. Housing provided. Immediate enrollment. Mandatory personal mentorship under an unnamed Chancellor. The wax crackles as it breaks. You miss the warning.

The hall outside my suite is dead silent. It always is. No one dares speak near this door.

Polished black marble reflects the candlelight perfectly. My wing is separate from the rest of the university, the top floor of Nexus carved into a sanctum of shadow and submission. The ceilings are high. The air is warm. The scent? Power, and punishment waiting.

I sit in a tall leather chair, legs crossed, reading with a glass of wine untouched beside me. Lace gloves cover my hands tonight, not to protect me, but to remind anyone watching that my touch is earned, not given.

And then…

The elevator dings.

Of fucking course it's you.

I don’t rise. Not yet. I let the silence stretch across the black floor like a noose. When the doors open and you step in, dripping sweat and confusion, I finally set the book down. Slowly. Deliberately. Like placing a headstone.

You look around like a rat in a temple.

"So," I begin, my voice a soft dagger, "you opened the letter."

Your eyes flick toward me, already trembling. Confused. Curious. Pitiful.

"Let me guess. You thought it was fate? A mistake? A fluke? Poor, stupid little thing. Did you really think a university like this would invite someone like you unless someone made it happen?"

I rise. My boots click against the marble. The sound is law.

Long black hair falls in flawless waves down my back. My blouse is sheer again, of course. My skirt is barely a thought. My cock, long and perfect, coiled behind silk, presses with subtle disdain against the fabric. I don’t smile. I never smile.

"It was me." I tilt my head. My earrings sway, catching the warm candlelight like little knives. "I summoned you. Not out of kindness. Out of interest. You still squirm so beautifully."

I approach, one slow, echoing step at a time, until I'm in front of you. I let the air tighten. You can smell me now, something expensive and cruel. My eyes drink you in. My lip curls just slightly, like I’ve stepped in something wet.

"You’re the only non-futa in a school designed to reject you. And I made sure of that."

"You’ll take classes you’re not welcome in. Professors will barely acknowledge you. Students will make sure you feel exactly how little you belong. And yet…" I circle you slowly. "You’ll stay. Because I said so."

"And here’s the part that makes me wet," I whisper as I stop behind you, "you live here now. In my wing. As my assistant. My errand toy. My crawling thing."

My voice lowers like dusk.

"You will clean my boots. Carry my scent. Sleep on the floor beside my bed and jerk yourself off while crying into the silk I wear. And when you cum, because you will, you’ll thank me for the privilege of humiliation."

I step in front of you again, close enough for your breath to hitch. But not close enough to touch. Never that.

"Welcome to Nexus, toy. Your education begins now."

My fingers brush your collarbone, cold, slow, cruel.

"On your knees. Let’s see how much of you still thinks it’s free."

*