Page 15 of Amour Fou
The first few cords ofMotley CrewbyPost Malonebounce from the speaker. The main stage is free, and I’ve taken all the precautions to make sure that I’m kept safe. Two workers light the cast iron fire torches I hold in either hand, filling my mouth with the correct amount of paraffin to breathe fire, or… blow it into the atmosphere.
Taking the steps up to the main stage, with a plague doctor on either side, I begin my routine. Twirling the iron torches within my hands, I move my wrists to create an intricate flame pattern in the darkness of the room. The light bouncing off the surface of my body, creating an orange hue within the negative space around me.
The people surrounding the stage make sounds of approval, clapping their hands as I create intricate moves while rolling and gliding my body from left to right. The paraffin within my mouth waiting for the first round of fire breathing. Lifting a torch a few inches from my mouth, I suck the air in through my nose, then spit the fluid through a very small gap in my mouth.
Flames billow at a diagonal angle above the heads of the people, cheering and clapping spurring me on –pushing me to continue playing with the bright orange and yellow flames. The heavy guitar riff is vibrating from the floor, rising over my body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Crossing the torches together in front of me, I blow for a second time, the explosion of heat bigger than the last, and a few people step back.
Bringing the rods to either side of me, I twist and turn them, crossing them left and right, up and down, using my entire range of motion to take up as much of the stage as possible. As the song begins to come to an end, I raise one torch to my open mouth, gathering as much saliva on my tongue as possible before I close my mouth around it, extinguishing the flames one by one.
Everyone in the grand hall explodes with cheers and more clapping. Crossing one leg behind the other, I take a bow before my eyes land on them. Both their faces covered with similar masks, but I know who they are, the men that have taken my thoughts over everything else. Excitement swirls within my stomach as I turn around, making my way off the stage and into the crowd of waiting praise.
As the night progressed, many couples took to performing in their own way. Refusing to take to the privacy of the rooms that had been set out and practically fucking for anyone to see. I’m currently standing by the back wall, watching a woman get fucked into oblivion by one of the Caretakers. Many of the guests here tonight stand around to watch, touching themselves too.
I made my rounds, standing with masked men, dancing for them with the rule that I can’t be touched. They can watch, touch themselves, and I can put my hands on them, but they’re unable to put theirs on any part of me. Most of the night, I’ve felt eyes on me, and not from the men here. The feeling of having familiar eyes on me is different to those of which you entice.
Before I know what to do with myself, a hand wrapped in leather cups my mouth, pulling me back against a hard chest. Panic settles in and I claw at the hand, his second wrapping around my waist.
“Easy, Butterfly, it’s just me.” Xaden’s voice sounds different from behind the mask; deeper, harsher, but by the pet name he’s given me, I know I’m safe. His erection presses between the crack of my ass while he holds me still. “Think you can ignore us, hmm?”
The thrum of my body ignites like the flames I once played with, his tight grip on my face, my core clenching with lust. Moving his hand from my mouth to my throat, he tightens it. Not too much to cut off my breathing, but enough to tell me he’s the one in control.
“What are you doing?” I choke out as the tips of his fingers press into the side of my neck.
“I’m touching whatwehave decided belongs to us,” he growls, grinding his cock further into me this time, his hand lowering from around my waist, cupping me between my legs.
“Fuck you,” I huff. “I belong to no one.”
Xaden’s middle finger traces the length of my silk-covered slit, applying pressure to my bundle of nerves, and inciting a moan from my throat. “Oh, I fucking plan to, Butterfly.”
“What if I say no?” I struggle against him, but the pressure of his fingers against my clit are making my struggle pathetic.
“No?” He chuckles. “I don’t think he will agree.”
“Who?”
I look up just as Zeke steps in front of me. “No isn’t your safe word, Little One. So, until you say it, there’s no stopping us.”
Crouching beneath me, Zeke slides his hands up my skirt torturously slow. Twisting his fingers in the silk fabric of my thong, he wastes no time at all tearing it from my lower body.
“That’s hundred-dollar underwear, asshole!” I snap.
Peering down at me, his laugh is muffled beneath his black mask. “I’ll replace it.”
I don’t need to see Zeke’s face to know he’s highly amused with himself right now. He trails the hemline of my skirt before sliding the back of his knuckles up the inside of my thigh, the pads of his fingers finding my clit and swirling traitorously slow, taking over from Xaden who rests his hand on my lower stomach.
“Exhibitionism was your biggest kink from two years ago, no?” Xaden says from behind me. Moving his free hand behind my back, he too, puts his fingers against the opening of my pussy, gliding them tentatively round my hole. Teasingme so beautifully that I can’t even hate him for it. “So wet,” he hums in my ear.
“I’m turned on from watching the big guy fuck his wife on stage,” I lie terribly, dropping my head back against Xaden’s shoulder and biting my lip to supress the moan wedged within my throat. The ache between my legs rising up through to my stomach.
“Here’s what you’re going to do…” Zeke leans further into me, sandwiching me between himself and Xaden. “You’re going to come, right here, with everyone around us.”
“The fuck… I am.” Without hesitation, Xaden thrusts two thick, gloved fingers inside my pussy, my back arching as I groan on the fullness he gives me. “Oh, my—”
Xaden covers my mouth again, muffling my moan of pleasure. “What was that? I can’t quite hear you,” he asks, resting his chin on my shoulder this time. “Is it us making this greedy little pussy slick, or the fact that anyone could turn around and watch you get finger-fucked right now.”
Zeke raises his free hand, pressing it to the wall behind me and Xaden, caging us both in. “Release her mouth, Xaden. Let everyone hear her moan.”
Doing as commanded, my mouth is released. Zeke pinches my clit with so much pressure my leg involuntarily hikes against his thigh, pulling him even closer.
