Morally Gray

Morally Gray –––––––– By Piper Stone Copyright © 2023 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC. www.StormyNightPublications.com –––––––– Stone, Piper Morally Gray Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson –––––––– This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Books of the Kings of Corruption Series Books of the Sinners and Saints Series Books of the Alpha Dynasty Series Books of the Benedetti Empire Series Books of the Merciless Kings Series Books of the Edge of Darkness Series Books of the Mafia Masters Series More Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Piper Stone Books of the Dark Overture Series Books of the Club Darkness Series Books of the Dangerous Business Series Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series Books of the Missoula Bad Boys Series Books of the Eagle Force Series Books of the Alpha Beasts Series More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone About Piper Stone Prologue The Tempest. A secret society where privilege and depraved proclivities reign. No permanent location. No public rosters of members. A single man feeding dark, primal desires, twisting decency into a powerful game. The predator and the prey. The innocent and the damned. And the ceremony of the Sacrifice. Chapter One Genevieve Merriam-Webster defined the word tempest as a violent storm or uproar. That fit the secret society and the night perfectly. Lightning slashed across the massive windows, creating an eerie reflective light, the combination of anxiety and excitement as exhilarating as it was terrifying. This was a mistake. I’d made them my entire life, some more catastrophic than others. But I had a feeling this one would be deadly. Thoughts of insanity erupted in my brain, and I could swear I heard my mother laughing, enjoying every minute of what I was doing. Of course she would. She more than anyone I’d ever known appreciated monsters and madness. I shook off the ugly memory, blinking several times. Eerie sensations trickled straight to my bones, barbed vines clinging to every molecule. I couldn’t move, the foreboding a heavy weight crushing against my chest. I’d worked diligently for months, tossing everything in my life aside for this single moment in time. Yet terror threatened to consume me, eliminating the possibilities before they began. As I dared to risk being tossed out for studying the silhouettes hovered together in a thick circle, my throat muscles tightened. The darkness swallowed everything in its path, the only light from flickering candles in the gothic sconces lining the tapestry walls. Shadows erupted from the corners, twisted grotesque shapes as famished as the powerful predators encircling the group of participants. They reminded me of feral beasts, only they weren’t allowed to offer a single salacious growl while forced to wait patiently for the master of ceremonies to arrive. The massive room itself was oppressive, the thick wooden beams and dark furniture lining the walls a reminder this was a man’s club, no women allowed. Except during their society’s night of debauchery. I’d chosen the word, anything else far too tame for what the Tempest was offering. The name suited their organization, especially on a dark, stormy night, thunder crashing through the silence. I did my best to control my nerves, yet the butterflies churned, screaming for escape. That wasn’t possible unless I was prepared to face the wrath of a faceless man, one so powerful that with a single nod I could be erased from my meager existence. I wasn’t alone in my quest, but I doubted my reason for being here was similar in nature. Seventeen other women stood with their backs to the other in a triangular pattern, allowing the men to peruse the trinkets of temptation for the evening. I was certain every one of them had been forced to wear a butt plug like I’d been, the thick piece of rubber used for training purposes. While still uncomfortable, at least I’d gotten used to it over the last few hours. A rumble of thunder seemed to shake the floor beneath us. I knew that was impossible, yet as another bolt of lightning lit up the night sky, I tilted my head toward the neon blue light. Perhaps I was looking for forgiveness, or maybe salvation. At this point I wasn’t certain. My skin still tingled from the electricity coursing through the room, a wildfire of temptation. I was tense, more so than I thought I’d be, the angry butterflies claiming my stomach a clear indication that I was as crazy as I’d been warned, maybe more so. However, the thought of what would occur remained exciting, the notion managing to sear my skin. I would be bought and used, forced to comply with whatever was demanded of me. One month of servitude. The irrational part of me couldn’t wait even as the other side, the girl with purpose and intent, had tried several times to talk me out of my crazy adventure. But here I was, eagerly anticipating finally meeting the man behind the mystery. The Patriarch. As the wait continued, I studied the forty or so men standing in a perfect circle. All were dressed exactly alike, exquisitely tailored obsidian tuxedos matched with crisp white shirts, their silk bowties their only adornment. Every man was tall and muscular, their combined scents of