Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
My initial thought is that I’m interrupting a private moment, but then I remember that’s probably the point. The invitation explained that there would be public displays for those who wish to enjoy them. This event is meant to be a smorgasbord of kink.
The people in this room chose this platform with the understanding they’d be visible. The woman in the stockade seems to confirm that thought when she glances up at me, her lips curving into a smile.
“You want to stay and watch?”
I consider it out of curiosity, and oddly enough, the idea doesn’t bother me. It’s slightly uncomfortable because I’m not used to it, but it is fascinating to see what other people like. I could stay, but I’d much rather be getting chased by Eros.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m just passing through,” I tell her.
She nods, and the man continues fucking her as I study the revolving platform. I’m wondering what the best approach is, but I don’t think there is one. I’ll have to traverse it to get to the other door. So, with careful footing, I step onto it and navigate my way across, surprising myself with how nimbly I manage to jump off on the other side.
Once I’m in front of the other door, I realize there’s no knob, but there is a button. When I press it, the door opens, and I step through, confused by the velvet curtains that make it feel like a dressing room.
Without warning, the door behind me slides shut, sealing me inside the darkness.
I use my hands to feel around for a split in the curtains, then slip through the gap, wandering into another space. I can’t see anything, but I can hear flesh slapping against flesh, followed by a feminine moan.
I steer clear of that area, not wanting to trip over them, and somehow manage to find my way to the nearest wall. Using that as my guide, I feel my way through the room until a rush of air breezes over my skin, and someone reaches out and grabs me by the back of my neck.
I shriek, trying to yank away, but he tightens his grip, the modulated voice vibrating against my ear.
“You’re making this too easy for me, Praeda. Am I going to have to fuck you in every room?”
A sound of relief escapes me as I turn to face him. But as I reach out to touch him, another gust of air blows over me, and he disappears.
“How do you keep doing that?” I mutter.
My question goes unanswered because he’s no longer here.
This is the game—predator and prey. And he’s right. I’ve been making it far too easy on him.
With more determination, I make my way along the rest of the wall, then to the adjoining one until I find the door. It takes me another few moments to locate the knob, and when I turn it, I step into another curtained area.
As I slip through another gap, I find myself in a whole new level of strange. A buzzing neon sign glows bright against the wall, imprinted with the words Freak Show. It’s aptly named, considering the first thing I notice is the ring toss game. Instead of a pole, there’s a naked man on display—his partner tossing rings onto his erection.
Whatever floats their boat, I guess.
Near the perimeter of the room, I spot a woman dressed as a tiger, roaming around on all fours as a man walks her on a leash. Then I set eyes on a naked acrobat, a fire-breathing man, and a woman in a cage with a sign that reads, “Pet Me.” There’s also a woman dressed as a fortune teller, reading spicy directives from a deck of cards to the couple sitting at her table.
Admittedly, I could stay and watch all of them for a while, but I have a new sense of urgency to beat Eros at his game. So with a hasty glance, I move on to the next room, which turns out to be nothing more than a hall of wax figures.
My attention drifts over each of them as I pass by, noting the recognizable faces and masks from different slasher films I’ve watched over the years. They’re all so detailed and lifelike, it’s more than a little creepy. But when I pass by Jason Voorhees, he comes alive and lunges for me.
A blood-curdling scream erupts from my throat, and dark laughter follows me as I bolt, the familiar voice calling after me.
“Run fast, Praeda.”
I spill into the next room in a hurry, my eyes widening at the strange medical-themed horrorscape. There are multiple women in sexy nurse uniforms tending to a male patient on their operating table. One is pinching his nipple with forceps, while the other milks his cock with a lubed glove, and the third tests his reflexes. It seems I’ve arrived just in time for the grand finale as a fountain of cum ejects from his penis, and I pause out of curiosity to watch the way his entire body jerks at the release.