Page 3 of Frat Row
The first thing I notice is the archaic, gothic-looking cages hanging above our heads, which are chained to the ceiling, and the swings moving back and forth. There must be over twenty of them spread out around the room, which is the size of a large warehouse. My feet move on their own, pulling me forward as I squint upwards to get a better look at what is inside the cages and what is making the swings move back and forth. To my utter horror, there are naked women in each of the cages swinging on the swings with the only piece of clothing, if you can even call it that, being a black lace lingerie mask.
They are nude.Nude. I try not to stare at the scene before me, but it’s hard not to. I’ve never seen anything like this before.
Some of them are holding on to the sides of the cage, swaying their hips to the music, and you can see their boobs bouncing freely and their vaginas on full display, rubbing themselves against the cages. Others in the cages are standing there with frightened looks in their eyes, cowering on one side of the cage and hugging their knees to their chests. The women on the swings move their legs back and forth, and they have detached looks on their faces.
Gradually taking in the rest of the room, I notice half of the room has private black booths full of men in business suits who are either snorting cocaine or smoking cigars, talking in hushed tones to one another at their tables. In the back, there are three stripper poles with women performing naked again, and the men are barely paying any attention. In the middle of the room is a U-shaped bar, and Blair leads us tentatively over there. The chairs are a deep purple velvet, and we slide them out and take a seat, scanning the room and feeling utterly uncomfortable, except for the tingle between my legs. Showcasing your sexuality like this is so different from how I grew up. Sex wasn’t talked about in my household. It was like it was taboo and forbidden. Secretly, I love being in and around this kind of scene.
At the bar, there are five female bartenders who are also waiting on the men in the booths. They are wearing black lace teddies and black lace masks with black stilettos.
“What can I get you both to drink?” one of the bartenders says sweetly, placing napkins in front of us.
Blair responds, “Vodka and club soda, please, and make it two.”
This place is packed, predominantly with men. Even at the bar, the other seats, except for a few, are taken.
Blair looks at me, grinning devilishly. “I can’t believe you got us in here.”
“Honestly, me neither. There are barely any women in here besides maybe two in the booths next to some of the men,” I say, finally seeing some other women here.
“This place doesn’t feel right; it feels like some illegal underground business, and we definitely stick out,” Blair whispers to me.
“I’ll go to the bathroom, and then we can make our way out of here. I’m not sure we want to get caught up in this type of crowd,” I respond.
I ask the bartender where the bathroom is, and she points to a small hallway I hadn’t seen before behind the stripper poles.
I jump off my seat. “Be right back, whore, don’t move from this seat.” I wink at her and smile, crossing my fingers that she doesn’t fucking move.
Blair smiles and rolls her eyes while she takes a huge sip of her drink, flicking me off.
As I make my way to the dark hallway with dimmed lights, it’s creepily quiet, and something feels off-putting. The hairs on my arms rise, and I get goosebumps, suddenly feeling freezing cold. I almost bolt back to the bar, but my bladder wins out. I have to pee so badly, and there’s no way I can hold it.
There are multiple black doors down this long hallway that seem to go on forever; I check one of them, and it's locked, so I assume all of them must be locked. There are peepholes in the middle of them of varying heights, all in a straight vertical line. They don’t look like bathrooms at all, so I keep walking and frantically look for any sign that says ‘bathrooms.’ Curiosity finally gets the best of me, and I hesitantly approach one of the peepholes and press my hands on either side, trying not to put too much pressure on the door so no one hears me. I’ll just take a brief look and then make my way to the bathroom.
There’s no harm in just looking. It’s not like I’m opening the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
I blink rapidly, willing my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room. On the right side of the room are more whips and chains than I can count, all different sizes, hanging from the wall. Below is a selection of dildos in every size and color on a small table. This must be some sort of sex room or type of sex club.
My eyes venture over to the middle of the room, where I see a king-size bed with four tall posts and a black fitted sheet. My mouth drops open, and I gasp. On the bed is a woman with her legs and hands chained to the bed posts but with enough slack from the chains so she can be on all fours naked with her glistening pussy and ass on full display. She is blindfolded with her head facing the wall behind the headboard with a leash tightly around her neck that a man is roughly pulling on, makingher head bend at an odd angle. Spit and drool fly out of her mouth, and she gags while he thrusts, showing no mercy while she deep-throats his cock.
At the same time, another man is fucking her ass so violently while pulling on a silver chain as he thrusts all the way in and out. He groans, and I now see the silver chain is hooked to nipple clamps. She’s moaning so loudly I’m surprised I didn’t hear her while walking through the hallway. I feel myself getting wet, and I am so turned on. Finally, the guy that was fucking her mouth pulls out, and streams of cum jet out all over her face. He releases the leash and gets underneath her body, placing his head directly under her pussy. He lifts up and starts feasting on her clit and hole, tongue fucking her. She’s shaking now; her orgasm is obviously close. The man fucking her ass finds his relief and cums inside her. Some of it dribbles out, and he catches it with his fingers and stuffs it back in her hole, then gives her ass a loud smack. She lets the orgasm take over her, screaming and writhing while she rides the man’s face.
I stumble backward in shock, almost tripping over my own feet.
There is another threesome taking place in this room with three men. One man is on his back with his head hanging off the edge of the bed and has a black chain collar around his neck, while another one is fucking him so hard the bed seems like it could break as it rocks back and forth while he grips the chain. A third man with pierced nipples stands in front of the man being fucked, forcing him to deep-throat his cock.
Not able to hold back anymore, I reach up under my skirt and begin to rub my clit back and forth; I know how to quickly get myself off. I’m so wet already and so turned on by the sight of this. I can tell I’m close.
The guy on his back moans loudly while taking cocks in both of his holes. Everyone is in sync with each other, and animalistic noises fill the air.
In a frenzy, I start flicking my clit faster while putting more pressure on it, whimpering quietly because I am about to come. I find my release at the exact moment they do, and shivers wrack through my body as I watch both guys pull out and come all over the guy lying down. They’re breathing hard, sweat shining on their faces. Suddenly, they take their fingers and spread their mixed cum all over his stomach, putting it in their mouths and turning to each other to share deep kisses.
This is what must be going on in all these rooms. I’m intrigued and want to come back or at least stay a little longer, but I know Blair is waiting on me, and before she gets sucked into one of those booths, I turn away, a little flushed in the face, and practically sprint to find the bathroom.
I fling open the bathroom door and notice that there are only two huge stalls, and both are empty, thank baby Jesus. I pick the furthest stall and pee faster than I ever have in my life. Afterward, I make my way to the sink and wash my hands. I look around and notice that the bathroom matches the basement’s Gothic, all-black aesthetic. Even the wallpaper has the same black velvet with intricate designs. I lean down to splash some water on my face to cool down from how hot what I just witnessed was.
As I look back up from the sink, I startle when I see a woman standing beside me in the mirror. I didn’t even hear her walk in. She stands there and washes her hands in the sink beside me. The gloves she was wearing are placed on the side of the sink, and I glance over and notice a number on her wrist I can’t really make out because it’s so small. It starts with an eight. Confused, I shrug to myself. Some people have a lucky number or a number that means something to them. She is decked outin a dominatrix outfit: leather boots, a leather one-piece that is thong-style, showing off her curvaceous ass while also hugging all her curves and the same lingerie mask as the other women working here. She slips her gloves back on and starts applying red lipstick. She looks magnificent, and I can’t help but gawk at her.
