Last night: A traitors dreams

The investigator waited for what felt like an eternity.

He peered through the luxury penthouse's floor to ceiling windows, watching the tumbling shadows within, waiting for the cultists to emerge.

The air was heavy with the lingering perfume of incense and the thick, heady musk of dark rituals performed beneath a full moon. Now, the tall muscular man crept out onto the balcony, his brow furrowed.

He knew he shouldn't be here. This wasn't part of the plan. But after one night in the presence of the high priestess, with her flowing red locks, leather-wrapped curves and overpowering pheromones...he'd lost all sense of right and wrong. He was hers now. Entirely.

She emerged then, the subject of his depraved infatuation. The red-haired temptress, a vision in black leather and red lace. Her eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as she looked upon her secret investigator turned willing thrall.

She'd known all along. Had planned it all. And now he would serve her, as she had ordained...Mind, body and soul. The sex **** she'd administered had triggered something primal in him. An unnatural urge to submit. To obey. To worship at her feet. He sank to his knees before her, his heart pounding wildly, his skin prickling with arousal.

"Come," she purred, her voice like silk and sin. "Let me show you the depths of depravity you'll descend to. The acts you'll crave. The heights of ecstasy only I can grant you..."

The investigator's resolve crumbled like the stone idols of the false gods scattered across the balcony.

He was hers now. Forever.

His corruption complete. Virtue and vice were but a fading memory. His world narrowed to the five points of her heeled boots, and the promise of the red corset straining to contain her ample bosom. He licked his lips, his throat clicking in a moan of surrender.

"Yes, mistress," he rasped. "Please. Claim me. Break me. Make me yours..." The high priestess smiled, her eyes flashing with demonic glee and perverse satisfaction. She had him.

She had won. And soon, so would her cult.

Undercover agent Marcus Brown awoke from his slumber his muscular body draining in sweat....

His member hard as always when he dreamt of HER

Marcus cursed, he had been a lot smarter than in his reoccuring dream...

Had successfully infiltrated the cults ranks and now was member of the so called "Conclave" which was the inner circle close to the woman behind all this....

HER, his nemisis the redheaded self-proclaimed "High priestress".

However, he still always felt unease in her presence, unease and in a perverted way attracted....

Marcus Brown wasn´t that kind of guy he was sure he wasn´t.

Women in his bed always enjoyed his stern yet erotic lead...

After months of investigation he was frustrated that he had found out little.

Except for taking part in lavish orgies organzied for the rich and mighty and learning a bit about the cults recruting process...

he had not much at hand to indict or arrest someone.

Still his intuiton told him that he was onto something big, yet he still needed to uncover the foul aim of all this hoax cult/church thing.

Still he even didn´t know whom exactly the cult was worshipping except that this "worship" let to strange sexual acts...

which....

Marcus had to admit...

started to get into his mind more and more....