Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
This was a bad idea.
Fetlife—an online social media for kinksters—was one thing, but to come to a weird sex club in the middle of a forest hoping to get what I need without a friendly face in sight? That seems a little idiotic.
I’ve got a tiny problem. Okay, maybe it’s not tiny. I can only come when I’m scared. I’ve seen a therapist about it and used all kinds of sex toys. Joined Fetlife and explored kinks, and not once have I been able to hit the holy O. The closest I’ve come is with this guy who shoved a pillow over my face, but then he chickened out and killed the whole mood. I’m twenty- four years old and I’ve never come. The thing is, what I need to come is something most sane people aren’t willing to do.
I need to be petrified.
I need to be submerged in utter fear, like I’m going to die or think I’m going to be mutilated by my sexual partner. Fucked up, right? In the grand scheme, never coming isn’t the worst thing to happen to someone. I could’ve been an exemplary nun if I was a good little Catholic.
I found out immersed in a horror movie marathon. I never got aroused unless I watched one of those. My heart would pump, my brain would start playing tricks on me, my breathing sped up, and my pussy got wet. I mean wet. It was the first time I discovered I didn’t need lube to make myself wet for penetration.
Deranged, that’s what I thought I was. Sick and twisted with no moral compass, no decency— a twisted fuck like the masked men holding sharp objects doused in crimson red.
I rushed to the therapist’s office, asking her to commit me, worried I was insane, a danger. She stayed calm, looked at me, and smiled. I didn’t know why she was smiling. I mean, it’s a little weird for someone to tell you that when they see Ghostface, or Michael chasing someone, they get hot and bothered. She stared me right in the eyes and told me it wasn’t as strange as I thought. Explained that fear caused adrenaline release in my body, which got my motor going. She continued to tell me it was like any other kink, and all I needed to do was find someone whose kinks complimented mine.
My friend, Serafina, who I met at Fetlife, told me to try a hunt. A high-paced, no holds barred, animalistic chase leading to sex or, hopefully, some type of release. That’s how I found myself here, at The Hunt Club.
“You have your safe word, sweetheart?” a pretty woman with dark black hair, ruby red lips, curves for days, and luminescent skin, asks.
She’s wearing a corset and fishnet stockings, and her massive perky breasts are on display as she bends down to pick up a discarded glass off the crystal coffee table.
I quickly fidget with my exposed cleavage, suddenly feeling insecure. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to clear the fog.
“The safe word. You know it?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Her silver tray clangs as she places it on the table in front of me. “First time, huh, honey?”
I nod.
Her smile is sweet and warm. She seems kind. “You don’t need to worry. We make sure the prey is safe, no matter what.”
“So, what am I missing here?”
“They’ll call you for formation. When you hear the bell, you run. Run far, run fast, climb trees, and let the inner doe out. After a certain amount of time, they release the predators. Make sure you pick the right one, honey. Some of these people are animals with no ounce of humanity. The only reason they follow the rules is because they fear those who will hunt them if they don’t.” She scans the room. “There.” She points to a tall man with broad shoulders and a creepy white mask on his face. “Try to get him.”
I squeeze my thighs together, trying to avoid the flutter in my vagina. The man might talk directly to my kink, but self-preservation controls my brain. At least at this moment. “Are you crazy? The dude has a mask on his face. He looks like he walked straight out of a Friday the 13th movie.”
She pats my thigh like a maternal grandmother, even though she’s probably younger than I am, if not the same age. “He might look scary, but he’s not a pig. Notice how he’s not checking out anyone. He’s here with a mission. A man like that won’t fuck around. He won’t use you like a piece of meat for his pleasure. It’s a partner he wants. He’ll search for prey who will fight, someone he can respect. It’s important to pick a play partner who will respect the rules, and honey, that man may look scary, but he’s way better than that guy on the sofa.”