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The people inside are having an orgy. All of them. Men with men and women, women with women and men, men with men. I actually gasp from the shock of what I’m seeing. Unlike the other couple, I don’t feel the protection of the mask. It’s too much for me to take in and I look away. I look away and Nick notices.
I’m grateful when he moves me along. I find something else to focus on as we proceed down the pathway nestled between the dancing bodies and the people having sex.
I keep my focus on the patterns on the floor. It’s like crystal and has the appearance of dancing on water. I didn’t notice it before. Granted when you came to a place like this, I was pretty sure the floor was the last thing you’d notice in comparison to everything else going on around you.
I look back up and we pass by another couple in a cubicle. It’s just the two of them. They aren’t wearing masks and the way they touch each other is different.
Nick steadies me as we stop and watch. The people inside look like they can’t get enough of each other, like they’re so into each other they could be anywhere. The man holds the woman against him as she rides him and he strokes her back.
Nick pulls me away just as they pull apart and kiss. I feel then like I’d actually intruded on something private. It’s weird because all of it should be private.
I look at Nick and I’m not sure what he’s thinking as we proceed down the path. He’s either decided we’ve had enough of the floor, or that I’ve seen enough.
We go through a door at the end of the hall and there’s a set of stone steps.
My heels clank against them. I seriously start wondering what I’m about to see next. Feels like being led down into a dungeon.
When we get down the steps I realize why this feels like a dungeon.
It’s because it is.
A sex dungeon.
I tense at the thought and my mouth goes dry as we enter another large hall.
The music down here is different. It’s more jazz-like and low enough to hear screams of an orgasm from the furthest end of the room and the echo of flesh slapping together.
There’s more people having sex down here than above on the main floor.
The room is also filled with equipment I’ve heard Chloe talk about. The people around us down here are a combo of leather and gowns and formal wear like you’d actually see at a Venetian Ball. The people in gowns are wearing masks.
I notice some of the women in leather have a collar around their necks and they cling to the men next to them.
A little like I hadn’t realized before, that I’m clinging to Nick.
It fascinates him when he notices me realize.
I look to the cubicles here and that’s where the shock factor amplifies as I watch a woman being flogged and spanked. It looks painful, nevertheless she’s crying out for more. In the cubicle next to them it looks like the same sort of thing has gone on but the couple inside are having sex.
BDSM. I get it in an instant, thanks to my sex lessons from Chloe and I think the men around are all doms and the women are their subs. The way they are is a little different. Some of them are close and the way that the women cling to their men is something I can’t stop looking at. It’s very intimate. Almost as intimate as the couples having sex.
I’m seriously going to have a hard time forgetting all this. My blood is so hot it burns as it travels through my veins. I don’t know why I think this but the whole setting looks like a twisted scene in “Interview with the Vampire”, minus the vampires and add in the people wearing leather.
Yes, that’s what it feels like, like I’m not sure if I should be fascinated, or wigged-out or both.
I think it’s the way they’re all touching each other. Like animals would. It’s a little predatory and animalistic.
A man approaches Nick and smiles at both of us.
In his mask, most of his face is covered. It’s one of those “Phantom of the Opera” masks but with the masquerade design as opposed to what you’d see in the musical. I wouldn’t have been able to tell what his expression was if he hadn’t smiled.
Nick smiles at him and stretches out his hand to greet him. I move to give him more freedom to interact but he pulls me back against him. I don’t miss the urgent possessiveness in his touch.
The man smiles wider and looks from Nick to me.
“Nickoli Giordano, you don’t usually venture down here. Can’t remember when last I’ve seen you.” The man booms in a hearty tone.
I try to assess him from what I can see. He’s Italian like Nick but there’s a presence about him I can’t ignore. Stronger than Nick’s. He’s older. I’d say maybe mid to late forties.
