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But everyone else in here was awarded a luxury, even though I wasn’t. They could mingle, get fucked, ruin their lives, all while under the protection of the mask and fake name. To them, that was enough.
To me, this was suicide.
It made it worse when many turned to look at me as I walked in. My mind told me to be on guard. That maybe they were looking at me because they knew who I truly was… but realistically, I knew that wasn’t the case.
This is the anxiety of being in an unknown place,logic told me. I was all too aware ofwhyI was feeling what I was, but knowing the emotions and where they came from didn’t stop me from feeling them.
Focus on the mission.
I had been in there less than a minute, but the longer I stood, the more attention was drawn to me.
I forced my gaze to wander. I caught a few people not wearing masks—workers I assumed based on the file—but none of them were who I was looking for.
Stage six. Main performer.
I was shocked to hear that someone like her was willing to get up on stage, but there was little description of what went on in these rooms, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Tiffany Yates seemed like a well-adjusted woman who grew up in an affluent family. She stayed at home all throughout college before graduating early and joining the Secret Service. That was what the files told me, at least.
Maybe this was her way of getting out of her comfort zone. A way of rebelling against her parents after all those years of being theperfectdaughter.
I braced myself to see her in a revealing outfit, maybe dancing on stage. Something that would give her just enough of a thrill to make that stuffy secret service job seem not so bad. A way to let out all the pent-up feelings she had.
It took me a moment to collect myself, but that moment was enough to cause even more people to stare. To them, they saw a random person hanging by the entrance, looking like they didn’t know why they were here.
And to be truthful, they would be right, but I didn’t want the extra attention.
I pushed into the house, nodding at the people who continued to stare, though most looked away when they realized I wasn’t there to mingle. It gave me great comfort to know that even in a place like this, people would shy away from me.
Humans could feel the darkness inside me. They may not be aware of it, but it was almost instinctual. Like the part of them that was trying to keep them safe was setting off the alarm bells when they caught on to what I was hiding.
Which was why it would have been much better to get someone in who was better at seduction than I was. They would fit right in, move through the crowd with ease. They would flirt, party, and then finish the job.
But there I was, sticking out like a sore thumb and hoping desperately that I wouldn’t scare away the target.
Soft music flitted through the air, hiding the light conversations of the people around us. It wasn’t hard to get past the main crowd and to the back rooms. The entire hall on both sides had darkened rooms that patrons could duck in and out of. The music was softer there, and it allowed the moans to filter out of the rooms.
Loudmoans. I had the strangest urge to peek my head into one to see what all the fuss was about. Especially when I heard a loud scream.
“Fuck it,” I hissed under my breath and peeked into the first room.
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart hammered against my ribs when I saw a woman suspended upside down and two people on either side of her. She was mostly clothed, though the big wet spot on her underwear showed exactly what had happened to cause her to scream like she did.
I thought this was supposed to belessintense than the main house. If this was what they did here, what the hell did they do there?
I shook my head and left the room quickly, needing to get my head back in the game.
Every thought I had about this being a normal performance left my mind as I walked into her room.
It was dark save for the light on their small stage. Comfy-looking chairs were spaced out in front of it with quite a few occupied.
She’s quite popular, it looks like.
On the stage was a girl with short brown hair and a black mask. She was hogtied and writhing on the ground in tight latex bra and underwear. The stage was slightly higher than the chairs and gave the people watching a perfect view, but even if they somehow missed it, there were screens on either side of the stage. One showed her pleasure-ridden face, the other her swollen and wet cunt. The latex was so tight, you could make out the folds of her pussy. Wetness leaked from the sides of her tight underwear and fell to the ground.
There was a woman off to the side, but I ignored her completely, too focused on the girl on the floor.
Her legs were bound behind her and forced wide open, showing the bulbous vibrator that had been tied to her inner thigh with rope and lying directly on her clit. There was a puddle beneath her, and by the looks of how she writhed, she had already had more than a few orgasms in front of these people.
If it wasn’t for the job, I would have left as soon as I saw her.
