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“’Tis the season,” Mira said. She offered the purple beads to her girlfriend. “Show me your tits, babe.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Is that what you’re going to make me do? Go around flashing my boobs for purple beads?”

“People love your boobs. It’s the best advertisement in our arsenal.”

“I thought it was my O face?”

“Do you see a color for O face here?”

While they bickered, Delia held the beads to Helena. “You familiar with this game?”

Helena shrugged. “Some variants of it. You perform tasks to collect beads from people, right? And whoever gets the most wins.”

“Something like that. In this case, each color represents a specific act. You, the submissive, are after one particular color. So, there will be three winners, one for each color.” Delia nodded toward Blair, who hopped up on her feet with a huff. “Blair will undoubtedly be after purple beads, as we have overheard. I suggest you pick a different color.”

“So, purple is flashing? What are the others?”

“Well…” Delia pulled the strand of green beads off her hand. “Green is for spanks, I believe, unless they want something else tonight. Right on the ass.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Of course it does! You minx.”

Helena finally relaxed. “What about the gold ones?”

“Oh, these are for sticking your tongue down another dominant’s throat. Pass those mouth herpes around, you know. It’s the latest fad.”

Mira laughed into her dissatisfying drink. “You know Michelle is gunning for the gold beads. She’ll win them all, too.”

“Then I should go after the green ones.” Helena stretched her arms above her head. “Fine. I like a smack on the ass.”

“You won’t mind if I get a kiss while you’re gone, will you?”

“It’s your mouth.”

“I can feel the love and adoration of a brand-new relationship over here,” Mira teased. “How long have you two been dating?”

“One glorious week, Mira, darling!”

Blair fidgeted with her kimono. “Should I wear this thing or not? I can never tell if I should show more skin at these events.”

“Keep it on,” both Mira and Delia said at once.

Helena eyed the beads hanging from their hands. Is that what I have to do to ingrain myself here? The attention didn’t bother her. If anything, this was the perfect opportunity to get out there and meet women who may or may not remember her a few months from now. Maybe one of them will be in Washington when I’m back in school. What Helena dreaded the most about returning to “normie” life was the lack of access to this kind of lifestyle. She was slightly addicted, after all. Sure, there were dating apps and nightclubs and Greek Life houses full of wild parties she could get her jollies at, but Helena Pierce was above all of those things. She had tasted the depraved nightlife of the elite. She had sailed on billion-dollar yachts and been passed around the half-drunk, giggling attendees of one of Irene’s penthouse parties. She had flown to Paris because one of her dates invited her for a weekend of “fun and sin,” and she had been sequestered in an Alaskan cabin for the sole purpose of being tied to some stranger’s bed.

Because this was selfishly about her fun while young. She could be practical in her thirties and boring in her forties.

So, if Helena were to be the good girl who resumed her boring fucking life in college, playing team sports to keep her stupid scholarship, she would need some kind of outlet. The more people from the PNW she met, the better. Maybe one of them would be her girlfriend who helped her take her stress out on the weekends and between soccer games.

She might be here, somewhere. Delia had always been the ticket. Helena only had to stay on the train.

“Whoa, whoa.” Delia held her back by the shoulder. “They haven’t started the game yet!”

“Good thing, too,” Blair muttered while removing her bra from beneath her kimono. “I can’t get this stupid thing off!”

“What do we win if we get the most strands of our color?” Helena asked. “Are there actual prizes?”

“Monetarily? Yes.”