Moth: Laney, be a good girl.
Slowly, I lowered them. Where was he viewing me from? I walked down the hall, praying no one came out of their rooms for a midnight snack. Every creak made me jump. I pressed myself to the wall when I heard a door, and Moth texted me instantly.
Moth: If I have to come get you, I’m going to make your ass very pink.
There was a picture attached of his hands holding a belt. I gasped and clenched my thighs together, imagining it.
Yes, Michael.
My brain shifted, just as it had the past two nights. I wasn't going up to see Moth. I was going to meet a stranger, a man in a mask who gave me as much pain as he did pleasure. A man that I wanted to keep seeing, to keep pleasing, and to keep riding the line of good girl and bad girl with. I took the elevator, despite hating every squeak and jerk the ancient machine gave out, and soon, I was on the third floor.
Moth: Down the hall, to the left.
My heart beat fast. The air was eerily quiet. I was waiting for someone to pop out and scare me, but I continued on down the dimly lit hall. I turned into the room I’d been directed to. The lighting in here too, was low. Just dim enough to give my masked lover, standing in the center of the room, an air of mystery and excitement; even more so, now that he'd found the blue jumpsuit.
The video was accurate to what the room offered. It almost felt like an old dance studio, with wooden flooring and scarce furniture. Michael stormed over to me, shutting the door. I flinched as he pinned me to it. I looked into his eyes; it was too dark to see perfectly, but the hunger was evident. And then, a low, guttural growl came from under the mask, and one last text came through. I gulped, and with shaky hands, brought the phone to my face.
Moth: You're late.
Rule 35 - Delaney
Don’t be late.
Istared at the eyes inside the mask. They didn't look like Moth’s. But they had to be. It only added to the thrill of it all. What if it wasn't Moth under the mask? What if it was one of the hotel's ghosts?
"What are you going to do, Michael?" I rolled my eyes. He talked a big game, but would he actually hurt me?
He tilted his head, just like the character did, and my heart picked up speed. We stared at each other, and now, I wasn't entirely sure it was Moth under the mask. Lust was overtaking me, and suddenly, he was just Michael.
He squeezed my cheeks, pinching my lips together. I writhed under his grasp.
"I'm sorry!" I muttered through my squished lips. My masked lover's eyes lit up as the other hand went to my throat again. He squeezed, and I melted. I let my eyes roll into the back of my head as his thumb ran over my lips, and then drifted to my chest, cupping a breast. He let my neck go, and I gasped for air. Little black dots appeared in my vision, and I moaned as he reached for my neck again.
While he choked me against the door, his other handfondled my breasts above the thin fabric. He pinched them while he alternated between choking and letting me breathe.
"Is this my punishment?" I gasped. "Just teasing me?"
Michael shook his head. He was taking his role seriously. He let my neck go and snatched my wrist. He tugged me to the center of the room. Dozens of us reflected back from the walls. What an odd pairing. I giggled. Me, in a pink nightie with bows and ribbons that matched my stilettos, and him... Michael Myers.
He motioned to the chair. It was just a chair meant for a dining table. He reached into his pocket and before I could protest, he flashed the silver handcuff and snapped it around my wrist, pulling it to the arm of the chair and connecting the two.
"Hey!" I tugged but only moved the chair. I glared up at him, whose eyes sparkled with mischief. "What’s this for?" I put my free hand on my hip. Michael sat in the chair and motioned in front of him. What did that even mean?
"I can't dance." I pulled on the handcuff.
He shook his head slowly and reached forward, tugging on my nightgown. When I didn't move fast enough, he slammed his hand down on the other arm of the chair. I let out a cry of surprise. His hand found my thigh and ran up it, my skin getting goosebumps with each inch. My legs were shaking by the time he reached my core. He cupped my sex and ground his palm against it. I groaned and parted my thighs to allow him access.
He tugged on my nightgown again. I nodded and pulled my dress down. It slid off my shoulders and went to my waist. Only to get stuck at my handcuffed wrist. Michael reached into his pocket again and pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open and cut the strap off my dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. Without giving me the chance, he leaned forward and cut my panties on my sides, letting them drop as well. Hishand went to my sex and his fingers pushed past my folds into the wetness pooling there. I moaned as he swirled his finger around my clit, but then pulled away.
What was I supposed to do? His erection was pressed against his pants so tightly I was sure it’d rip a hole in the thick fabric.
Michael saw my gaze and shook his head. He wagged a single finger and then reached for the zipper on his jumpsuit. He pulled it down from his neck and, keeping eye contact with me, slid it down his body. His abs were spectacular. I reached out to tug the suit off his shoulders, but he swatted me away and continued sliding the zipper down just past his belly button.
This would be the first penis, cock, whatever, that I'd ever seen. Sure, I'd felt Priest’s in the bath on my backside, and this same masked man just last night had been... inside me, but I'd been too deliriously high off pleasure to pay attention. Michael must have seen my reaction and paused just where I knew hair would start. He then pulled out a second pair of cuffs and grabbed my free arm and tugged it to the chair, snapping it over the second arm.
Hunched over, naked in just my heels, I glared at him. Michael was smiling underneath the mask, but as I tried to get him to look at me, I realized he was looking past me at the mirrors. I looked up at the mirror in front of me and blushed. He was staring right at my exposed ass.
Michael lifted his switchblade and ran it across my skin, sliding it down my shoulder. I shuddered as he brought it between my breasts and then back up, tracing my jawline. He squeezed my cheeks again, holding me in place, and with his empty hand, he finished unzipping his pants and then patted his lap.
