Chapter 12
NOVA
The moment Wes squeezed my hand, the haze broke. Archer retracted his touch. Wes glared at him.
For one sharp moment, all I felt was panic. It was like I’d been sleepwalking and sleep talking. Myself, but also not myself.
My mouth clamped shut. Archer took a step back, grinning and clearly unbothered. Jayne eyed Wes curiously, her lips in a sly upward curve.
My cheeks burned; I’d just told Wes he was beautiful. Somehow, that was more embarrassing than giving a crowd of people a deranged movie review in order to convey how much I wanted to be called a good girl.
Hand still in Wes’s, body semi-floaty under a wave of embarrassment, I cleared my throat. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“I can show—” Jayne started.
“I need a minute alone,” I said, cutting her off.
“Of course,” she said easily. “Through those doors, turn left, enter the next hall to your right, and it’s the first door on the left.”
She may as well have spoken those directions in a different language.
“Are you okay?” Wes asked, his irritation melting into concern as he studied me.
While I was under his spell, his attention felt like oxygen. Now, it was mortifying.
I nodded. “I’m just… disoriented,” I settled on.
“We should debrief,” he said, hanging onto my hand. “Aftercare will help.”
“Okay, but I still need a minute alone,” I said, averting my eyes.
“Of course,” he said, leaning in and speaking close to my ear. “You were perfect, Nova.” He dropped my hand, and though he looked reluctant, he let me go.
I left the three of them without another word.
I felt a confusing mix of pride in myself, amazement in what I was able to do, but also embarrassment for how I’d clung to Wes like a lost puppy in need of direction.
I’d never felt so confident, and yet, after every flex of my newfound power, I’d searched for Wes’s approval in the crowd.
The cameras had only focused on me and him. Everyone else had faded into the background.
“Hey,” a man stopped me in the hallway. He was dark-haired, bearded, and in his thirties.
“I just wanted to say how much I related to your share—I was raised Hasidic, and my community was basically a cult. It feels like ever since, I’ve had this good boy complex, the source of all my kinks and the root of all my trauma. ” He scratched his head with a laugh.
I nodded. “I understand completely.”
“Anyway, thanks for sharing. Hope to see you around,” he said.
I smiled, the kind interaction soothing my racing mind. I hadn’t even considered there would be other people like me here. My anxiety had rendered me entirely self-consumed.
“Yeah, you too,” I said.
Against all odds, I located the bathroom and quickly hid in a stall to recoup.
“Nova!” an excited voice called, followed by the sound of a door closing.
I suppressed a groan. “Hi, Maisy.”
“I’m ascending!” she squealed.
So much for recouping. I slowly left the stall. “Congrats, that’s amazing. Just in time for the party, right?”
She nodded. “Your speech was amazing, by the way. Everyone’s talking about it. People are going to be fighting to the death to get on your dance card.” Her dress was short and black, with a puffy skirt and sleeves.
“My dance card?” I asked with a raised brow.
“It’s just slang for the people you have plans to scene with. Like tonight, I’m getting double topped by Archer and Jayne for an impact demonstration. And of course, I’m playing with Jeffrey. But other than that, my night’s wide open.”
She talked a thousand miles a minute, which was doing the opposite of bringing me back down to earth. Oh God, was I going to be expected to scene with people?
“I literally cannot wait to see where the party is. They’ve been working on the interior for months.”
“It’s not going to be held here?”
Maisy laughed. “Oh, no. The big members-only events happen at a new location every time. Only rarely are they hosted here. They’re seasonal, so they go all out. Generally, they’re held at someone’s mansion.”
From what I knew about wealthy people and their sex parties, this news deeply concerned me.
“Your pupils are big,” Maisy noted. “Did you and Wes do a little play already? You seem spacey.”
“Like drugs?” I asked. “No.”
“No, I meant subspace,” she said.
“Subspace?” I felt like I’d come across the term before, but its meaning evaded me.
“You know,” Maisy said with a touch to my arm, “the altered headspace someone enters when they are being dominated.”
I swallowed hard. “No. We didn’t play,” I said.
I didn’t really feel like explaining to anyone that Wes had hypnotized me, but that it was totally platonic and purely utilitarian.
“Okayyy,” Maisy said slowly, clearly not believing me but also not willing to call me on it. “Wanna come with me to the impact class? I bet Archer and Jayne would just love to get their hands on you too.”
My eyes widened, and Maisy giggled. “Sorry, I know you’re still working through some things. Not trying to pressure you. We’ll be in the impact room.”
“No worries,” I forced out, my mouth dry. “I’m sure I’ll see you later. I’m just going to explore a bit first.”
Maisy left with a big smile, and I took a minute to collect myself.
I hadn’t said anything damning. I’d admitted to a room full of kinky people that I was kinky. Big deal. For all it mattered, I could’ve been lying in order to ascend.
As for Wes… God, I didn’t even know what to tell myself about Wes. All I knew was that he told me to do only what I wanted, and all I’d wanted was to be close to him.
It was just because of the hypnosis. I’d been temporarily bonded to him because he’d been in control of my subconscious. That was all. The effects would fade. I remembered everything he’d said to me in that room, and none of it was sinister. He’d helped me. As a friend.
I nodded to myself in the gold-framed mirror. Good talk.
When I re-entered the hallway, there was chatter and laughter in all directions. A few moans floated through the walls.
I was walking deeper into the church before I knew what I was doing, perhaps still a little spacey, like Maisy had said.
I took a staircase, reaching the second floor.
Every once in a while, people who’d heard me speak greeted me with kind words or minor flirtations, but so far, no one had disturbed my exploration.
Maybe tonight would be the night I’d spot Lorelei, or at least hear her name.
Instead, I heard my name.
“… Nova. Beautiful ring to it.”
I halted. It had been a man’s voice, from behind a door to my left. I crept closer. Some audacious spirit of a mediocre man must’ve taken hold of my body, because I found myself reaching for the doorknob.
Someone opened the door from the other side at the exact same time, and I couldn’t stop my startled yelp.
A man in a tux and an all-black, angular mask greeted me. Behind him, several men wore either tuxes or black robes, their faces covered by ornate black, golden, or animal head masks.
One man had his feet resting on a nude woman’s back as he smoked a cigar. Another nude woman wearing nipple clamps carried a tray of whiskey glasses.
All the masked men turned toward me. Two of them whispered to each other with smirks. The one right in front of me didn’t move, just cocked his head.
“Well, hello there.” His voice was deep, but his tone was playful. He stepped out as I stepped back. He slowly shut the door behind him. “I was just talking about you.”
My chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. It was as if I could taste the power from that room on my tongue—sensual, dangerous, heady.
“Eyes Wide Shut roleplay?” I managed to ask, taking a few more steps back into the hall.
“Another excellent movie,” he purred. He followed my movements, stalking toward me with each step I took until I was literally backed into a corner.
“Except men like you tend to only focus on the shiny surface elements of that movie—the sex—while the deeper meaning flies conveniently over your heads.”
He stared down at me, or, at least, I assumed he was through the opaque black covering his eyes.
My heart picked up, unable to ascertain this man’s emotions—or anything else about him.
He laughed. “Who are men like me, Nova?”
I didn’t speak. We were alone in a dim hallway, and I still felt the influence of Wes’s mind meddling. I was absurdly confident for someone facing down an unknown masked man.
“Hmm,” he said. I let out a breath of relief when he slowly took off his mask, revealing an attractive man in his late twenties.
He fluffed up his dark brown hair, and his lips curved.
“The deeper meaning being that true, radically honest intimacy—even when difficult and painful—is far more fulfilling than the fleeting sexual indulgences offered by a seductive sex cult?”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
“A romantic,” he purred. “How sweet.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Let me guess: you and your dress-up pals think it’s a man’s nature to spread his seed across international waters, and monogamy is a cage,” I said, matching his condescending tone.
His dark eyes flashed, his smile slowly widening. “And you love cages, don’t you, Nova?”
My confidence faltered, and he saw it, his cocky features lighting up with satisfaction.
“Be careful who you trust,” he said. “Not everyone is who they seem.”
I studied him suspiciously. “Oh? And who are you?”
“Roman,” he said, sticking out a broad hand.
I begrudgingly took it, though the shake lingered for far too long. He watched me, as if waiting for recognition. When I lifted a brow, he released me. If he was a celebrity or something, I didn’t recognize him.
“This is going to be so much fun,” he said, eyes sparkling. There was something dark about his expression, like we were playing a game I wasn’t privy to. “Do you know what happens at Midsummer?” he asked.
“Vaguely.”
He smiled. “I want to get to know you better. Rest assured, the winning bid will be mine,” he said.
I heard footsteps growing closer. I didn’t understand what Roman meant, but before I could ask, his mask was back on, and he was walking toward the room that reeked of cigars and power.
That was a door I had no interest in opening again.
Two women in lingerie strutted past me as I headed for the stairs. One of them had a collar around her throat, holding her own leash. Sad.
I didn’t have a phone, and I was in a huge, unfamiliar church. How the fuck was I going to find Wes?
On the lower level, a man in latex underwear and a dog mask scurried around on all fours. A woman in tall, thin stilettos marched in front of him, a whip in hand.
It seemed clear we had progressed past PG-13 territory. If this was considered a more casual event, what the hell awaited me at my first party?
My first guess as to Wes’s whereabouts was where I’d left him.
Great minds clearly thought alike. When I slipped into the nave, Wes was sitting in the front pew, listening to my enemy talk about dungeon etiquette to a much smaller crowd.
The auburn-haired woman’s face soured the moment she spotted me moving toward Wes.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “don’t interrupt anyone’s scenes.
Alert a safety monitor with a badge if you suspect someone is in danger, but there will be scenes involving consensual non-consent, abduction play, blood play, watersports, and all manner of seemingly violent or degrading acts.
Just because something is not to your taste or within your own risk profile does not mean the participants are unwilling or being harmed. ”
Wes turned his head when I sat next to him. “Are you okay?” When I nodded, he whispered, “You should listen to this.”
“Is that an order?”
His lips twitched, his head moving close to my ear. The warmth of his breath tickled my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Pay attention, Nova.”
“If you hear someone say the universal safe word, red, and their partner doesn’t hear them or doesn’t stop, you may intervene on their behalf or alert a monitor,” the bitchy receptionist continued.
“Red means the scene will come to a complete end immediately and will not resume. Do not assume that because you hear the words no or stop the person speaking doesn’t want the scene to continue.
Many people engaging in dark roleplay do not consider those words to be safe words, as resistance may be a desired and pre-negotiated part of the scene.
It is up to individuals to negotiate their own boundaries and risk-aware practices.
I would advise anyone new to kink to err on the side of caution and wait to engage in CNC play until they have more experience with setting boundaries and using safe words. ”
She continued outlining the basics of affirmative consent and negotiation, how to ask someone new to play without being pushy, and the consequences for consent violations or coercion. To my relief, violators earned an immediate lifetime ban.
It was confusing—this group’s obvious culty language and behavior juxtaposed with their supposed emphasis on safety, community, and empowerment.
People here really did seem happy and free, and not everything Jayne said I disagreed with.
I mean, the fact that she got me to do what I feared most was objectively impressive, even if manipulative.
But we were being seduced, and for purposes that weren’t entirely clear.
Did this place need to be all bad? Or could it still be dangerous while existing in shades of grey?
As Wes stood and offered me his hand, I remembered that the last time we spoke, I had called him beautiful.
I placed my hand in his.