It wasn’t merely a corner of stone for aesthetic purposes. There was also a drain on the floor.
“Oh,” I said to myself, too quiet for anyone else to hear.“Oh.”
The man pissed on his submissive. “Open your fucking mouth.”
My own mouth fell open with shock. I knew this was a thing, but I sure as hell had never seen it. And I had no idea how it made me feel.
The space between my thighs pulsed. I couldn’t look away.
He began to stroke his cock, gripping her face close, clearly on his way to marking her with a second fluid. “That’s my good girl. You keepmypretty mouth open for me.”
I turned away.
Mine.Mymouth.
The words were what stirred something inside me. Against my will, I remembered those initial explorations a decade ago, unsupervised on the Internet. I recalled the exact moment I realized there were other people like me—that I might’ve been a freak, but there were plenty of other freaks too.
That knowledge hadn’t saved me from the shame that ate me alive. But maybe it had given me something, a glimmer of possibility I might one day claim.
I left this room, curious to explore what else the party had to offer. Everywhere I went, I looked for Lorelei, hoping I would beable to recognize her even if she was one of the few women in a mask.
I peeked inside a smaller bedroom, full of people engaging in an active gangbang. When the men turned toward me, I quickly moved right back out.
I entered a room that was purely sensual, no torture devices in sight. A smoke machine blew a low trail of mist toward the entrance and into the hallway.
The room was decorated as if it was Mount Olympus—even the ceiling was hand-painted in a classical style, depicting the Gods.
A nude woman played the harp in a corner. The floor was littered with cushions and blankets, and translucent golden fabric hung in swaths from the ceiling. Some people were clothed and socializing while others slowly explored each other’s bodies in what appeared to be a relaxed orgy. In the corner of the room, a woman lounged on a loveseat while two men fed her grapes.
“Chocolate?” a woman asked me, greeting me where I stood a few feet inside.
Capricorn. I smiled at her, remembering her kindness at the second soirée. She was wearing a sheer, flowy purple dress with nothing underneath, her supple curves on full display.
When I nodded, she smiled, lifting a truffle to my lips. I opened my mouth. She watched me as my tastebuds were overcome with an explosion of flavor, my eyes widening.
“Why is that the best thing I’ve ever tasted?”
She laughed. “Right? Some famous chocolatier brought them,” she said. “I bet they’re like fifty dollars a truffle.”
“That’s insane.”
“Welcome to Midsummer,” she laughed. “Have you been out back yet?”
“Like, outside?” I shook my head.
“It’s giving enchanted forest. That’s where they’re doing a fairy hunt. It’s just for fun, though, nothing as serious as the hunt in October. I wasn’t invited last year, but maybe this year!”
Maisy had mentioned the autumn party too. I was intrigued, but I soon remembered I wouldn’t be in The Circle by then.
“Ooh, let’s watch,” Capricorn said before I could respond. With her hand in mine, she gently pulled me closer to a woman carrying a violin who’d taken a seat on a plush chair by the arched windows.
The room turned its attention toward the performer.
A man approached her, kneeling at her feet. She was wearing a corset but no panties, sitting on the very edge of the seat with her legs spread open.
She began to play, filling the room with a beautiful melody that blended seamlessly with the harp. The man gripped her legs, slowly trailing kisses from her feet to her inner thighs.
Capricorn grabbed another truffle off a plate a man carried around. She wordlessly offered it to me, and being the whore for sweet treats that I was, I accepted with a nod.
