Page 8 of Eden's Deliverance

Penelope and I are trying to maximize my sex appeal by digging through my closet for the sluttiest things we can find. All I’ve managed to unearth is a black-and-red leather corset, still sporting its tags from when I bought it.

She fervently approves of the top, and after searching through the fallout of my torn-apart wardrobe, she pieces together something that seems to fit the occasion.

We crowd in front of my floor-length mirror, twisting into different angles and positions in order to survey our images as a whole.

“I look so…frumpy.” My shoulders slouch in defeat. “I’m taking bets on immediate rejection. Shit, can that happen?”

I’m dressed head-to-toe in the red corset, black faux-leather pants, and a pair of red heels that are covered with dozens of silver spikes. They’re ungodly sexy, except they’re about three inches too tall for my liking.

Penelope is a true vision, though. Her platinum hair is tied in a long braid that hangs over her shoulder, while her slim body is draped in a gorgeous blue minidress I could onlyhopeto pull off.

“You. Are. Stunning.” She emphasizes each word with a slap to my boob. “There’s no pressure to pair with anyone, but you’ll have options. If worse comes to worst, we just hang out with the Onyx normies. We can drink, dance, and just have a good time. This is supposed to be fun!”

“But look—”

“Scarlett, this is the real world. Nobody grovels over stick-thin anymore. Guys want huge titties and an even bigger ass. You’ve got both. Nobody cares if you’ve got a belly, except you.” She reaches for both our masks sitting on the bed, handing me the white one. “Put your big-girl panties on and let’s get going, we don’t want to be late. Early bird fucks the worm, and all that.”

Ten minutes later, we’re piling into the car. She passes me the AUX cord, giving me permission to pump us up with whatever filth I see fit. To elevate my mood after our last conversation—and also to set the vibe for the night—I turn on “Treat Me Like A Slut” by Kim Petras.

When Penelope hears the opening, she bursts out in laughter, and I follow suit. We sing and dance to our hearts’ content as one song fades from another to another, until I’ve finally calmed down enough to feel like I can breathe again.

Pulling out my phone, I read through Eden’s list of guidelines one more time before we arrive.

Attendants must keep their masks on at all times, and are strictly prohibited from exchanging any information that may compromise their anonymity.

All attendants are allowed to socialize together, however, only those with matching masks are permitted to enter the VIP section.

The only exception to this rule will occur on Rainbow Nights, in which all VIP guests are invited to intermingle in the Rainbow Room.

I turn to Penelope in the driver’s seat, eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s the Rainbow Room?”

“The Orgy Room,” she laughs, and I’m sure it must be a joke until she elaborates. “Everyone gets together in a huge suite, and they just go wild. There are no rules, except you still have to protect your anonymity.” She gives me a side-eyed smirk. “Honey, you are nowhere near being ready for the Rainbow Room, so don’t even think about it.”

In what world does she think I’d even consider something like that? I can barely have a successful sex-session with one normal person, let alone a whole group of kinky freaks. “Trust me, you never have to worry about me stepping inside that room.”

I think.

The city is alive and bustling as we drive towards our destination. Everywhere I look, people seem to be aimlessly stumbling down every street and alleyway. The streetlights illuminate their faces, and I watch with fascination, wondering whether any of these city folk are about to get ravaged in a secret nightclub like I am.

I turn the mask over in my hands and fiddle with the ribbons, debating how much control I need to surrender in order to guarantee that tonight goes off without a hitch.

I’m always calculated and concise with my decisions, so it’s not like this is much different. I’m still me—I still chose this and planned it accordingly. I signed up, got in the car, and I’m holding the damned mask. I’m sure forfeiting some of my usual restraint will be a liberating experience.

So why do I feel like I’m about to give up so much more of myself?

Wepull into a driveway that wraps around the side of the building, opening into a massive parking lot in the rear. The car comes to a halt, and the countdown strikes zero.

“Alright bitch, put your mask on. It’s time.” Penelope smiles brightly at me while she ties the blue mask around her eyes.

I manage one last gulp of unadulterated air before the night begins and my life changes. Arm in arm, we walk around the building until we’re standing in front of the main doors. Above them, a large sign reads:

BRAXTON SUITES

I don’t come to the inner city often, and I’m far too comfortable being at home to give a shit about exploring. There’s always so much going on, it never felt like a priority. But this place is incredible, and it already makes the trip worth leaving the house.

The lobby alone is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

Its white marble floors are streaked with glistening gold, the surfaces still glassy from their last polishing. The walls are covered in golden marble wallpaper, and the ceilings are lined with gilded tile. Directly in the center of the room, a three-tiered fountain acts as the centerpiece that brings everything together.

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