Page 16 of Room Twenty-Three: Tangled & Teased

“Which is?” Erin asks, and I have to rewind a little to remember the conversation.

Ah, yes. “A girl we share.”

Her tongue probes from her lips as she considers her next words. “But not outside of the clubs?”

I shrug my shoulders as Jove stops at a door and waits for us to catch up. “No. We’ve been lucky in the clubs and got a girl who wants all three of us, but normally it’s only for one night, which suits our lifestyle. Outside of the clubs, most people are looking for a traditional relationship.”

She nods as she walks through the doorway that Jove and Beau disappeared behind a moment before. This area allows invited voyeurs, not random passers-by like the last room.

The spectator room is a small space, with leather chairs all around, and deep green drapes that cover the window ahead. The manager presses the button, and as the curtains draw back, Erin’s mouth drops open as she lets out a squeak, but she doesn’t stop staring at the vision ahead.

Chapter 6

Erin

RoomTwenty-Three.

I’m still in shock at the things people do to get themselves off. Because behind the curtain was a woman tied up in knots.

Knots being apt because there was no escape. They tangled her in ribbon and rope from her head to her toes, and there was a serene look on her face as she floated in the air like an angel in a breeze.

And her body was like mine—curvy, not thin.

But the men with her worshiped every bit of her, including every extra inch.

My body did things last night that I never thought it would do. Even now, there’s a blissful ache in my lower stomach and between my thighs. My hand lowers again; I can’t seem to stop myself, as my fingertip slides over my clit.

I know it’s from the vision of her floating in mid-air.

It’s because I’m imagining it is me.

Gliding through the air while I am tangled and teased, because that is what those men were doing to her. Not one of them was inside her, but she looked like she had climaxed five hundred times.

I want it too.

To be worshiped.

Am I selfish if I want it to be about me?

Yes.

Being tied up, unable to move, unable to touch. Would it stop the insecurity I have at not being able to satisfy a man?

Room twenty-three.

Wow. That room did things to me I cannot comprehend.

We walked past all the other rooms. Each room had a theme, from hard-core no holds barred BDSM rooms that I’m not ready to explore. Rooms with crosses, spanking benches, paddles and whips lined up on the walls.

Room twenty-nine there was a doctor, but the things he was doing were certainly not legal, probably enough for him to be struck off the medical register.

In another room, there were strap-on cocks and a table of different styles and sizes of vibrators. Including some which had knotty ends. In another room, there was a lady deep in a state of bliss as a woman zapped an electrical wand on her pussy.

If there is one thing I learned last night, I’m not a masochist. But being tied up in room twenty-three is making me wet. Maybe it’s outrageous being at the other person’s mercy as they decide my fate. And truly, I never thought I would like anything like that.

Until I saw it.

Would I like it?

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