I wondered what I should do. If I turn and leave, no one will know. I'd gone unnoticed, the attendees too involved to give me more than a glance. As I debated backing out, my curiosity partially sated, a sound reached me from one of the archways.
It was a raw noise; animal in nature. It sent a tingle down my spine, my lower belly twitching.
I knew what that sound was.
It wasn't even a question.
That's a woman moaning, but... why?
The noise came again, a groan full of pleasure and passion. My own body heated up, just from hearing it. Around me, no one else reacted. Their calmness piqued my interest further. Did women usually sob in obscene delight down here?
I wanted to know what was making someone create such openly erotic noises.
Just a peek at what's further inside, then I'll leave.
Calming my nerves, grateful for the mask that hid my blushing cheeks, I stepped deeper into the room. No one acted like I wasn't welcome; that was encouraging.
Just one foot in front of the other .
I glanced down as I passed one of the couples. The man had his hand on the woman's head, his fingers casually petting her long hair as he spoke to another fellow standing nearby. The lady seemed to be enjoying it, leaning into the touch with a smile on her lips.
Another moan floated down the hall, my skin rippling in reaction.
Whatever is going on, she sounds like she's enjoying it.
I rounded the passage, walking the short length of the dimly lit corridor. There, at the end, another archway waited, its curtains spread open.
My steps slowed as I grew near, the fact that I was about to get answers making me wary. My ribs creaked with the giant swell of air I took in.
Just do it!
Crossing the threshold, I saw the source of the noise.
My knees locked up instantly.
A woman was bent over a large table, her legs spread, muscles tense and shaking. Sweat coated her thighs, her perfectly shaped ass pointed into the air. She was naked, breasts crushed beneath her on the hard surface, arms pulled forward and bound at the wrists.
Her ankles were tied to the legs of the table, a position that exposed her glistening pussy to any eyes around.
And there were many eyes.
Biting my tongue to hold my gasp at bay, I scanned the people. Some stood, like me, arms folded or hands gripping drinks. Others were lounging comfortably on luxurious couches. Men, women, it didn't matter who they were...
All of them were watching.
On one wall, I saw another woman, her body taut where she was strapped and spread in tight looking bonds. A robe ran down her torso, winding between her breasts and highlighting their shape. From how she wiggled, it looked like she was enjoying herself.
Everything I looked at could have come straight from some perverse BDSM catalog. I'd been on the internet, I wasn't so naïve that I couldn't say what this reminded me of.
Leather, bondage, power and fantasy...
Then, I saw him .
The man who'd smiled at me when he'd entered the house.
A vision of muscle and stoic silence, the man stood against the wall across from me. Wearing entirely all black, I hadn't noticed him initially with the dim lighting. He had on crisp pants, a thick belt. That perfect torso was exposed in detailed glory, shirt unbuttoned down the front. His hands were clad in glossy, deep-smoke gloves.
The stranger's stance, his aura, it was intimidating. I was glad he wore a mask like all the others. I worried that if I had seen his eyes, they'd make my insides melt.
Who is that?
My ogling ended; loud footsteps announced a new man.
His golden mask gazed over all of us, but his focus was on the woman tied to the table. Only she held his true attention.
The man's body language spoke for him, making it clear he was solely focused on her. His head tilted down, eyes gliding from her ankles to her bare back.
The gold-masked stranger stepped forward, standing behind the prone woman who gave a soft whimper. Her blonde hair was in disarray, it hid her face when she tried
It was a raw noise; animal in nature. It sent a tingle down my spine, my lower belly twitching.
I knew what that sound was.
It wasn't even a question.
That's a woman moaning, but... why?
The noise came again, a groan full of pleasure and passion. My own body heated up, just from hearing it. Around me, no one else reacted. Their calmness piqued my interest further. Did women usually sob in obscene delight down here?
I wanted to know what was making someone create such openly erotic noises.
Just a peek at what's further inside, then I'll leave.
Calming my nerves, grateful for the mask that hid my blushing cheeks, I stepped deeper into the room. No one acted like I wasn't welcome; that was encouraging.
Just one foot in front of the other .
I glanced down as I passed one of the couples. The man had his hand on the woman's head, his fingers casually petting her long hair as he spoke to another fellow standing nearby. The lady seemed to be enjoying it, leaning into the touch with a smile on her lips.
Another moan floated down the hall, my skin rippling in reaction.
Whatever is going on, she sounds like she's enjoying it.
I rounded the passage, walking the short length of the dimly lit corridor. There, at the end, another archway waited, its curtains spread open.
My steps slowed as I grew near, the fact that I was about to get answers making me wary. My ribs creaked with the giant swell of air I took in.
Just do it!
Crossing the threshold, I saw the source of the noise.
My knees locked up instantly.
A woman was bent over a large table, her legs spread, muscles tense and shaking. Sweat coated her thighs, her perfectly shaped ass pointed into the air. She was naked, breasts crushed beneath her on the hard surface, arms pulled forward and bound at the wrists.
Her ankles were tied to the legs of the table, a position that exposed her glistening pussy to any eyes around.
And there were many eyes.
Biting my tongue to hold my gasp at bay, I scanned the people. Some stood, like me, arms folded or hands gripping drinks. Others were lounging comfortably on luxurious couches. Men, women, it didn't matter who they were...
All of them were watching.
On one wall, I saw another woman, her body taut where she was strapped and spread in tight looking bonds. A robe ran down her torso, winding between her breasts and highlighting their shape. From how she wiggled, it looked like she was enjoying herself.
Everything I looked at could have come straight from some perverse BDSM catalog. I'd been on the internet, I wasn't so naïve that I couldn't say what this reminded me of.
Leather, bondage, power and fantasy...
Then, I saw him .
The man who'd smiled at me when he'd entered the house.
A vision of muscle and stoic silence, the man stood against the wall across from me. Wearing entirely all black, I hadn't noticed him initially with the dim lighting. He had on crisp pants, a thick belt. That perfect torso was exposed in detailed glory, shirt unbuttoned down the front. His hands were clad in glossy, deep-smoke gloves.
The stranger's stance, his aura, it was intimidating. I was glad he wore a mask like all the others. I worried that if I had seen his eyes, they'd make my insides melt.
Who is that?
My ogling ended; loud footsteps announced a new man.
His golden mask gazed over all of us, but his focus was on the woman tied to the table. Only she held his true attention.
The man's body language spoke for him, making it clear he was solely focused on her. His head tilted down, eyes gliding from her ankles to her bare back.
The gold-masked stranger stepped forward, standing behind the prone woman who gave a soft whimper. Her blonde hair was in disarray, it hid her face when she tried
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