Page 98 of Smut Lovers

Chapter Four

Dinner Party

E veryone covered their ears as a heavy gong strike sound reverberated in the surrounding air. Ava ruminated over the stylist’s words, warning her not to trust anyone. How was she to trust his words were the honest ones?

When they sat down at the table, the blonde took the head. Servers stepped forward, to pull out the plush dining chairs and push them into the custom-made farmhouse table.

One twin sat on each side of the blonde, dressed in matching red and white outfits. Regardless of how they stood next to each other, they made one continuous pattern. He had a sleek ponytail, while she had an asymmetrical bob that Ava could never pull off.

The handsome black man wore a very similar outfit to the one he arrived in, except his suspenders were lavender now over a white shirt with gray pants.

The man, who had been wearing a vest, completely transformed his appearance, by casually dressing in jeans with a white tank top under an unbuttoned, printed short-sleeved shirt.

Ava was stunned as she gazed at him, noting how similar he was to Vince.

The only difference was the plethora of tattoos her lover had inked on his body.

He had “Scream for me” inked on his throat, and Ava had done that for him multiple times.

His knuckles read love and pain, because hands could deliver either, depending on the situation.

And she highly doubted that this man had his cock pierced.

There were only six chairs at the table—leaving no empty seat for the missing plus-size goth girl.

Another gong sounded before a man’s voice declared, “The first hour is completed. Congrats to those still with us. As you see, Maisy has failed the challenge and will not continue. Dinner will be served momentarily. Please enjoy.”

Servers stepped forward and placed hors d’oeuvres on domed-covered plates onto the table.

With a nod of the blonde woman’s head, they removed the domes simultaneously, revealing peppered bruschetta, which made Ava’s mouth water.

The Stylist’s words rang in her mind again, as she shook out her napkin.

A polite exchange began as they made their way through the courses. After the hors d’oeuvre came a creamy dumpling soup, followed by a blackened halibut, for the fish course. A spoonful of lemon ice followed providing a deliciously cool palate cleanser.

Conversation petered out by the time the main course arrived. Upon lifting the domes, a surprisingly simple spaghetti with meat sauce was revealed, in contrast to the rustic and elegant design of the previous dishes. She was wary as she picked up her fork.

The blonde watched expressionless, as each of them took a bite.

Ava assumed the noodles were an alternative to wheat, as they were surprisingly chewy.

Curious expressions appeared on multiple faces, as they dug into their main course.

She also had a hard time placing the meat.

While tender, the chunks didn’t taste like beef or pork.

An odd texture hit her tongue, and she dug it out of her mouth with her finger.

It turned out to be a long, dark hair. Ava dropped her fork with disgust and pushed the plate away.

She swore the blonde wore a smug smirk out of the corner of her eye, but when she lifted her eyes from her plate, the woman wasn’t looking at her.

Ava took a sip of water on the table and watched everyone else eat. The gong sounded again, and they all stopped, as though already trained by the foreboding sound.

Multiple attendants flanked a long metal stretcher, as they wheeled it into the room. Ava attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat that threatened to choke her. She coughed and beat her chest, trying to dislodge what had gotten stuck.

She reached her fingers into her mouth and pulled another hair out, but it didn’t come out easily. Ava continued coughing, as she dug further into her mouth and pulled out a hairball. Her eyes widened in horror, as she dropped it on the plate.

Trying to shake off the dread, her eyes settled onto the blonde. Amusement flashed across her face, as she lifted her champagne flute in a mock salute and took a sip.

“You are what you eat,” the man said from nowhere. “We’d like to introduce you to the pig that served as tonight’s main course.”

Someone pulled off the sheet from the stretcher, causing chaos at the table.

The female twin screamed and ran to her brother, who threw his arms around her, shielding her from everyone, as they rushed from the room.

The black man lifted a steak knife and pointed it at the nearest attendant.

Vests pushed his glasses up his nose before throwing up.

Without knowing the proper way to react, Ava remained rooted to her spot, staring at the butchered pig they ate for dinner.

But it wasn’t a roasted pig on a tray. The body on the stretcher was the goth girl.

Her corpse had been turned into a macabre joke.

A pig’s snout replaced her nose, and instead of an apple in her mouth, she had a red-rubber ball gag.

Her eyes were open, with long false lashes and drawn eyebrows to convey a shocked expression.

Her abdomen had been cut open, and the bottom half of her body was mutilated. It was obvious the missing chunks of flesh from her ass and thighs were the meat in the sauce, and her intestinal lining made the spaghetti.

The hairball on Ava’s plate made her stomach churn.

Acid burned her throat, but despite the nausea, she remained still.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she couldn’t feel them.

She made a fist and dug her black-painted nails into her palms, intending to break the skin.

She needed to escape this hellish nightmare and wake up.

“We warned you there would be consequences. Our little piggy was late, so we had her for dinner. Remember, the last one standing wins the prize.”

“We need to call the police!” Vests shouted.

“I’ll kill any of you fuckers if you try to touch me,” the man brandishing the knife, hollered. “It’s self-defense.”

He lunged at the nearest attendant, who barely lurched to the side.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” the male twin said, pulling his sister from the room.

No one tried to stop them, as they headed toward the front door. When he reached for the knob, he found it locked and pounded on it in frustration.

“Open the fucking door!” he hollered.

“By accepting the invitation, you assumed the risks. Once our final contestant arrived, we locked all doors and windows behind you. There is no escaping your fates.”