Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
They should’ve locked up her mouth, too. Men can still get in that way.
We drift through the archway leading into the Den.
“No means no in here, right?” she murmurs.
“Nunca te diré que no,” someone says, drifting past.
I look up to see Jerome holding her eyes as he walks in. I didn’t know he spoke Spanish.
“What did he say?” Dallas asks her.
“Nothing.”
But I see the glint in her eyes before she pulls down her mask.
We head in to see that the feast is in full swing, several couples and groups playing at once as Dallas and I don our masks as well.
Unlike the Wolfe Room, this is where you come to get right to it. No heavy drinking—the glasses will be knocked over anyway. No dancing. No loitering and talking. Not much foreplay.
No cameras. No phones. No computers.
And be aware, the person behind the mask might not be as much of a stranger to you as you think.
We pass a shower in the corner, closed in on three sides with black tile and glass, two women tribbing against a wall, their tongues deep in each other’s mouths.
A small group of three men stands around a bed, one stepping up and rolling on his condom, taking the place in the young woman’s waiting arms when another is finished with her. In seconds he’s flipping her over, burying himself inside her as the others stroke themselves to get ready for their turn.
Fog lingers in the air, adding an extra layer of secrecy, and I can’t help but look around and wonder which bed or mound of pillows was where my father brought Sophia.
Nausea rolls through me, a cross between bile and a growl rising in my throat as I push away the images of her unprotected in here.
“Do people fly in for this?” Dallas whispers.
I shake my head, swallowing. “It’s all locals, relatives, or associates.”
No one in here isn’t connected to St. Carmen in some way.
We float around the room, Aracely’s hand in mine as we observe a couple going at it doggy-style in a filled tub, and a young woman on a couch taking three men at once.
“Jesus,” Dallas exclaims beside me.
The woman I recognize as Diana Setler by her pedicure. It’s always white polish. The three men—one under, one behind, and one in her mouth—all look alike, just different ages.
I lean into Dallas’s ear. “Her husband, her brother-in-law, and her father-in-law.”
He turns to me, his wide eyes meeting mine through our masks. It’s not the sex people want. It’s the power to indulge without consequence. That’s what this place is for. To use each other in front of the people who love them until eventually dicking up another man’s wife in front of your own doesn’t get you hot anymore. Then they move on to true perversion.
We pass a woman riding a man’s face, and a group of masked women sucking and kissing a man who’s strapped to a bed so tightly he can’t move his arms or legs.
Strolling around the corner, we come to the coup de grâce. Couches and chairs sit in the dark to our right, a perfect view to the wall on the left. Three women sprout from holes in the wall, on their backs, thighs strapped open, and a velvet curtain keeping their top halves secret on the other side. Two ladies lie, bare pussies open, ready, and unoccupied, the third getting railed by Mr. Kenmont. Pants down around his feet, he grips the mystery girl’s thighs as he drives into her. Her moans echo from beyond the wall.
“There was a story,” I tell Aracely and Dallas, “when I was finishing my senior year.”
I gaze at all the women, ready to be taken, and my stomach twists a little. He wouldn’t have brought Sophia here. He would’ve wanted his friends to know who they were having sex with. He would’ve wanted to watch her with them.
“Some girl got pissed,” I continue. “Maybe at her parents, maybe at everyone. They say she gained access to the Den. She planted herself.”
“Where?” Dallas asks.
I nudge my chin, gesturing to the wall.
Officially, daughters aren’t allowed in here. But the powers that be are delusional if they think we all didn’t know about this place.
“For revenge,” I tell them.
She planted herself here for revenge on her father. Wouldn’t it just serve him right to learn what his deviancy cost him?
“Do the men know?”
Dallas’s voice is troubled, and it should be. He could have students in here right now. And if not, they will be eventually.
“Are you kidding?” I taunt. “What do you think every one of them thinks about now as they screw these women?”
He looks back at Kenmont as he grunts and pumps his sweaty body.
If the story is true, it didn’t have the effect she wanted. It just turned some of these pieces of shit on more.