Hide, Don't Seek

Chapter 25~

My little mask is clipped to the sides of my hair. It’s half silver and half light blue, and it matches my bra color perfectly. Instead of a whole mask, I went for one that covers most of my forehead, down to my nose. It flares out on both sides, reminding me of an old Victorian masquerade mask. The mask”s left half is a shimmery silver with wispy blue lines randomly decorating it. The right side is blue, but instead of silver lines decorating it, there’s a 3D silver butterfly wing that spans past the top and bottom of the mask. It’s delicate and beautiful and makes me feel pretty. And, tonight, I deserve to feel pretty.

Walking into The Raven Room, the host, who introduces himself as William, searches for my name on his tablet. I can”t help but smile as he is, honest to God, wearing red sequin bottoms and a tuxedo vest. His wrists are adorned with what appears to be white cuffs. It looks like he cut them off of a white dress shirt and wore them as bracelets. His whole body is riding that edge of skinny and lean muscle and his smile is absolutely infectious.

After finding my name, he asks for my ID and shows me to my assigned locker. After showing me how to set the code, I throw in my bag, keys, and helmet before turning towards him.

While William checks in the next patron, I take in the very dark, very black, very plain front room. The steady thumping of a bass beats through the walls. A few red and white lights are scattered around the perfectly square room. The lights beam from the bottom up, casting a sensual, mysterious glow.

On the far wall, there’s a long, rectangular desk with a computer and a fierce-looking woman typing away on it. I assume she’s the one I spoke to on the phone. She’s not dressed anywhere near how William is dressed, though. Granted, the desk is blocking her lower half, but her top half boasts of a serious white blouse and a no-nonsense ponytail combed to perfection. She’s talking in low tones with a huge brickhouse of a man and they appear to be going over paperwork.

William clamors excitedly about it being my first time and how I’m just going to love everything and everyone. We easily banter back and forth about all they offer, and he gushes about how hot a group of masked men that just walked through were.

After a few minutes, I’m finished signing the documents I was required to do in person, and I suddenly feel sad that I’m leaving him here. I guess he can sense that I was momentarily sulking because he bumps me with his hip, tells me he gets off at 1:00 am, and wants to have a drink as I ”spill all the juicy gossip from the night.”

Then, with a wink and a nudge, he shoos me through the door—the one black door.

Entering the club is like stepping into one of my steamy romance novels. Closer by Nine Inch Nails bumps through the speakers, and the sound waves seem to directly affect the thrumming, gyrating bodies spread around the club. Similar to the lobby, the main source of lighting comes from red lights strategically placed around the walls near the floor. However, the only white lights found in the room are dim, and positioned over the four golden cages with people dancing in them. The difference in the lighting causes them to stand out, but the dullness of the single, white lights casts the entertainers in an erotic glow.

Additionally, there are black leather booths lined up along the three far walls. Some of them face toward the wall, which I find odd, while many face toward the center of the club. Anywhere between 3 and 7 people occupy most of the booths already, and the patrons appear to be all too open about making out publicly.

Everyone seems to have really embraced the Halloween theme and are dressed one of two ways: basically not at all, or in some kind of actual costume. Fairies, Vikings, Roman leaders, sexy nurses, horror villains—you name it, someone is probably wearing it—or wearing some of it.

The large space probably fits about 200 people comfortably. On the wall directly to my right is a long bar with shelves on shelves of every liquor known to man. A woman who can’t be older than 25 flits back and forth taking orders with her very best customer service smile. She must be used to people giving orders to her boobs because she doesn’t bat an eye. Then again, she’s walking around with a red, leather mini-skirt and red, glittery pasty petals covering her nipples. The only other thing covering any part of her body are the black Vans she’s wearing.

I slip closer to the bar as my nerves skyrocket. I haven’t been to a club since the night I took out Baldie. A deep sense of dread threatens to consume me, but a bubbly voice breaks me free of its hold. “What can I getcha hot stuff?”

I look towards the bartender, then around me wondering who she’s referring to. She leans over with a playful eye roll, “Yes, I’m talking to you. I effing LOVE the mask! How did you find one to match your bra?” She asks conversationally.

It takes me a moment to remember how to be normal, but thankfully, my brain eventually catches up. “I have a whole bin of masks. Every time I come across one I like, I buy it. This one just so happened to match my bra, so I went with it.” I giggle at how ridiculous it sounds, then order a Tequila Sunrise and a shot of Patron Silver. I need all the liquid courage tonight. And, it’s my last night so I might as well milk it for all it’s worth.

With a bright smile, she gets to work on both of my drinks, and, before I know it, she’s sliding them my way. I pay with cash and leave extra for tip.

“Name’s Ama. I know most of the regulars here so I could kind of tell you were new. This place really is all it claims to be.”

She points to a few men discreetly placed around the room. “Security is very particular and they’re more of ‘toss them out, then ask questions’ kind of guys. But I’ve worked here for two years, and only four people have ever been tossed out; memberships canceled. They”re all about creating a safe, fun, consensual environment. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Her smile is blinding and she seems completely genuine. I can’t help but mirror it with my own as I thank her and slip out of the way for the next person to order.

I slam my shot, slide the glass to the back of the bar so no one bumps it, and begin to wander around the room.

The entire atmosphere is primal, intoxicating, and so dang aphrodisiacal. I make my way through the throng of people dancing, kissing, and- oh, my, is she giving that guy a blowjob on the floor? Holy fork! How does she hold her breath for that long?

Seeming to hear my inner thoughts, the woman wearing a sexy nurse outfit, or parts of it, locks eyes with me and I can see her mouth widen with a smile. She enjoys being watched. Wow. I wish I had that confidence.

With a smile and a friendly nod, I make my way to the other side of the room where four golden cages are displayed. Behind them is a small, rounded corner bar, and I am momentarily distracted by a mountainous man throwing bottles and shaking drinks like he used to be in a circus.

Sipping on my drink, I return my focus to the people in the cages. Marilyn Manson’s Tainted Love blares through the speakers, and the lights above the cages blink along with the music.

In one cage is a tall, leggy woman with midnight black hair. She sways her hips to the rhythm in a sexy, almost freeing dance. Her hands slide against her toned body, already dripping with sweat, as she closes her eyes and appears to get lost in the feeling of her body.

The couple in the second cage is clothed in devilish outfits that appear to be made out of leather. He’s gripping her throat and dominating her mouth as he slides his fingers in and out of her pussy. They are completely lost in each other as they grind and sway to the beat.

A slurping sound rings out around me, and I realize that I’m sucking the air at the end of my drink. A little bit of embarrassment sparks through me before I realize that no one in this dang room is paying attention to boring, ‘ol me.

Realizing I’m still alone in the club, I briefly wonder if I’ve been stood up.

Deciding to make the best of it, I head to the corner bar and order another shot and drink. With a quick flick of my head, the delightful burn of tequila works its way through my system. I hum in satisfaction as I literally feel each of my muscles begin to relax.

Taking my fresh drink, I head back to the cages and watch as a woman squats close to the front bars, legs spread wide as she allows the other club-goers to touch and tease her. The whole ordeal is incredibly risqué and must be so freeing. I’ve never considered myself a voyeur, but I’m definitely more than a little turned on.

As the song ends, a man’s energetic voice filters through the room. “Welcome to The Raven Room my little deviants. I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight. While you do, don’t forget it’s our very own, Ama’s, birthday!” A round of cheers and applause threatens to deafen me as we all turn toward the mostly naked bartender. She’s shaking her tits and smiling widely.

“Now, she’s still on the clock, but she gets off…” His voice trails off after his second innuendo. An insane amount of catcalls and wolf whistles swirl with the shouts roaring through the crowd. I can just imagine he’s smirking and I chuckle to myself. They must be friends.

“Alright, you animals, she gets off at 10:30, so buy her all the drinks and make sure she has fun!” With another loud cheer from the crowd, the mic cuts and the music begins. Jeremih’s Birthday Sex begins to play and I smile at, yet another obvious innuendo.

Wanting to make her birthday special, since she was so sweet to me, I make my way back over to her side of the bar. She spots me and waves enthusiastically. After serving a few more people, she prances over. I ask her for another shot, and she quickly fills the tiny glass. As soon as she places it down, I hand her $100 and giggle as her eyes light up with surprise. “Happy Birthday, Ama.” I tell her with a smile.

She squeals and hugs me tightly before leaning back and wiping away a stray tear. “I just knew we’d be fast friends,” she professes with a watery giggle. I can’t help but smile back at her and wish I even knew what the word meant.

“Enjoy your birthday. I’ll see ya later.” I wave her back to the ever-growing line of thirsty clubgoers. She tinkles her fingers in a girly wave and turns to the next customer.

Throwing the tequila back, I set the empty glass back on the bar. My other drink is still firmly in hand as I turn on my heel and meander back towards the cages.

The music slithers through my body and mixes with the tequila. The heady buzz rushes through my veins, and I find myself closing my eyes while swaying my hips to the sensual music.

Not even a minute later, a large, warm hand touches my hip. I jump at the sudden intrusion before another hand clamps down on my other hip, effectively preventing me from turning. My heart rate doubles and fear has my vision tunneling.

Just as I’m about to spiral, a deep, growly voice cuts through the music. “Oh, dirty girl. Out here swaying that ass for just any ol’ asshole to look at.” As part of me relaxes into his embrace, recognizing the deep timber of his voice, another part of me coils tightly like a spring being compressed.

Warmth seeps into my back as he steps closer behind me, pressing his already hard cock into my back. He tilts my head with his, leaning in and inhaling deeply. His hands dig into my hips and he begins to grind and sway with me. A grin lifts my lips and I close my eyes, getting lost in the swaying and grinding of our bodies.

Unfortunately, the sudden realization that he may not be alone spikes my anxiety. Remembering the drink, that’s now partially watered down, I suck down the rest of it greedily. The cooling sensation is the perfect partner to the warmth caused by the Tequila Sunrise.

I hadn’t realized that I had stopped moving to suck down my drink until E chuckled in my hair. “Ok, baby girl, enough of that. How much have you had?”

His large hand leaves my hip and removes the cup from my hands. Stepping up next to me, he takes my hand and leads me towards the corner bar. One of his large steps is like two of mine, so I have to practically jog to catch up. But, while I do, I take a moment to check out his perfectly sculpted rear end. His pants hug every curve, and I happily follow those curves down his thick thighs.

Once he sets the cup on the bar, he turns around. I’m so busy ogling his backside that I don’t quite catch the abrupt movement until I’m crashing into his chest. My hands come up to stop myself from face-planting. The tac vest, no longer filled with ammunition and knives, stretches across the broad expanse of his chest and stomach.

For a whole forking eternity, we stand there, breathing heavily as lust begins to bleed through my body. It’s not until his hand cups my chin, tilting it upwards, that I realize I haven’t even looked at him yet. Once our eyes meet, I notice that they aren”t the color I thought they were. I thought his eyes were primarily brown and green, but with the additional lighting, they’re actually a deep, dark blue and sea green. They are absolutely stunning.

I swallow heavily as E leans down; his soft mask brushing against my lips, sending little tingles down my spine. “How much have you had to drink?” His voice is low and almost menacing. I flush, feeling like I’m about to be reprimanded as I contemplate my answer. He puts me into subspace so effortlessly; it’s insane.

“Um, two drinks. And, um, three shots.”

I barely finish my answer before he follows up, “Of what?”

Blinking back the weird tears that are forming, I stutter out, “U-um, Tequila Sunrises and Tequila. That’s it.”

We stand there for a moment, my breaths coming in harsh pants, as his eyes flick between mine. “OK. Are you still up for this? I don’t want you to-”

“Yes, please.” My answer is a breathy plea. One that causes a spark to flicker in his eyes.

“OK, then. Let’s go, baby girl.” I can tell he’s smirking because his face crinkles on one side. He interlaces our fingers together and leads me through the club towards a dark hallway I hadn”t noticed.

”Ok, Sir,” I reply shyly. My body trembles as butterflies form a mosh pit in my stomach. Here we go...