Page 4

The woman wears a black satin robe and has long, cascading platinum blonde hair. Her mask is made of lace and is delicate, matching her delicate features. The man is wearing a black tailored suit. He looks important. Powerful.

He removes his suit jacket and lays it across the back of the chaise lounge. He then speaks in a low, gravely tone, “Remove your robe.”

I can feel my face flush like a tidal wave crashing into the shore. I can’t stop thinking to myself that this is a fever dream. She is not going to remove her clothes on a stage. My palms go clammy, and I wipe them on the sides of my velvet dress subtly. Breathe Evelyn. Breathe.

The robe hits the floor, and I lose my train of thought. I want to look away because this is so wrong, but I can’t. The woman’s body is immaculate. She has a petite, slim figure with curves in all the right places. The body we all wish we had. Her breasts are perky and a perfect C cup. Her skin is perfectly tanned and not a blemish in sight. She is wearing nothing but a black satin thong, accentuating her other curves. The man pushes her hair back behind her shoulders and guides her chin up with his hand.

“Lie down.” His voice is firm and unforgiving. It is almost cold, but something about it makes me squirm in my seat. I’ve fantasized about things like this— dominating, dangerous men. The ones that will make you bleed for them, but I don’t actually want that. I want the kind of love my parents have. Caring and loyal. I keep my eyes locked on the couple on the platform.

She lies down on the chaise lounge, and he kneels beside her. He guides his hand up the outside of her thigh and grips onto her satin thong. He brings his other hand up swiftly and rips them in half, leaving her body exposed and the undergarment in pieces.

He spreads her legs apart, and I can’t stop watching her chest rise and fall with every breath. It’s almost like I can feel what she is feeling. I feel a warming in my core as he glides his tongue up her inner thigh. Her body is begging for more. You can see her squirm for more, but he doesn’t give it to her. He stands and commands her to sit up.

She does so willingly and obediently.

He removes his belt, and the clanking of metal bounces off the walls. He slowly unzips his expensive suit. You can see the bulge of his erection through his briefs. He guides it out and strokes long and deep. He lets out a grunt.

“You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she says, nearly begging.

“Show everyone how good you are at sucking my cock.” A flush crawls up my skin, and it takes all of my focus to swallow the lump that has worked its way up to my throat. My lips part, and I realize I am clenching my thighs together. I’m not sure if it’s the champagne, but Ifeel myself pulsing with desire.

With no hesitation, she brings the head of his length to her mouth. She bobs up and down with quickness. You can hear her soft moans, muffled by his erection. His size is impressive, and she has no problem taking him deep into her throat. He takes a fistful of her hair and pushes her more aggressively. It’s rhythmic. Captivating. Her breasts sway with each move, and her back arches as if she is chasing the pleasure.

He removes her breathing steadily, “Good Girl.”

The phrase has me weak, and I am practically melting in my chair. I notice the subtle movement from the seats across the room, but you can’t tell what they are doing. I take a deep breath, realizing I have been holding it, and I press my palms into my thighs to keep myself from squirming in my chair. I have never ached for pleasure as severely as I do in this moment.

I glance back at the stage and see the man entering her as she lies on the lounge chair. Her back arches with every thrust. Her breasts glistening in the soft light. Her moans grow louder. He pumps hard and fast; there is nothing gentle about how this man is taking her. The sound of bodies slapping fill the air, and I watch them reach their climax, the man pulls out his cock and strokes it as erupts and leaves a warm pool on her skin. You can see her body jerking from her orgasm, and the room falls silent. The soft music we all heard before fills the room.

What the fuck just happened? I need to leave. Now. I head for the door, keeping my head down, and step out into the hallway. I step towards the other rooms, needing a minute to cool off and clear my head. I can feel the wetness running down my legs. It was a bad day to wear a dress, I guess. I lean against a wall further down the hall on the other side of a decorative tree. What the Hell was that?

I have watched porn before, as we all have, but I am still a virgin. The closest I have ever gotten to any sex was when I made out with my high school prom date, or when I occasionally masturbate. Even then, I have always done external stimulation. Never internal. I’m not like Astra. I don’t give in to the desire. I don’t let impulses dictate my life.

I’m fucking spiraling. That was undoubtedly the hottest thing I have ever seen.You shouldn’t like that.I run my finger through my hair, trying to calm my mind. I know I shouldn’t like that. I shouldn’t like the raw, twisted passion, but deep down, I crave it. I know that’s the kind of desire that destroys you from the inside out. I can’t have that. Ever.

I stick around long enough for no one to know which room I was in. I want to know what the other rooms are for, but I’m afraid to risk my sanity to find out. I’m already driving myself mad. I make my way to the staircase and head down to the main bar.

I scan the room looking for Astra, but I feel a prickling sensation on the back of my neck, making the hairs on my body rise in unison as if I’m being watched. I turn around and look back at the stairs I just came from.

At the top of the grand staircase is a figure I could never forget, as it has been burned into my thoughts. It’s the masked man— and he’s looking right through me.

2

The Masked Man

I stare down at her, admiring her innocence and class. She doesn’t know anything about me. Other than the fact that I left her utterly confused in this very club four months ago. I’ve been watching her for months, long before our encounter at Club Muse. She has been my hobby, my obsession. I don’t know what it was that drew me in. Maybe it was the way she avoided everyone in the club, or the way she bit her lip when she was nervously engaging in conversations she couldn’t avoid. When her green, misty eyes locked with mine, I knew there would be more to her. That’s where I was wrong.

She is innocent. She is pure.

I thought for sure, after months of stalking, I would find out about a secret boyfriend or drug addiction. Surprise, surprise. Nothing.

She attends school, watches reality TV, and sips champagne. I’m not sure why she is even friends with Astra. The two are like night and day. Sour and Sweet. Death and Heaven.

I decided today is the day I should remind her of who she belongs to. I followed her movements all night. She should be more careful about where she wanders off to, or the wrong man might take her.

I have an in with the owner, Silas, and I let him know I had a visitor arriving tonight. He gave me access to the surveillance room so I could keep a close eye on her and make sure no one takes what is mine. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, after all, that’s what I was made for—killing.