Someone had addressed my invitation to the wrong name; professors weren’t allowed, but my demonic mask and tailored suit disguised my identity.
Heat hit me before I made it to the room, the sweat-soaked air of half-drunken young adults. It stopped me in my tracks. The threshold to the cavernous underground space felt like a barrier between who I was, and who I shouldn’t become. Standing there, I wrestled with the desire to findBex, to ensure she wasn’t a tangle of limbs with half a dozen other students. To claim her once and for all. To mark her as mine.
Yet, I stood on the precipice of a decision. Walking into that room and being recognised could cost me my job. They said that 'Nothing that happens at The Initiation leaves that room' and that was all good and well, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that whispers of a teacher fucking a student wouldn’t surface after the fact.
A deep scarlet curtain blocked the raucous party from view, but I heard them. Felt them. The vibrations of the deep bass within ricocheting through my bones. The sharp tang of alcohol drifted around the edge of the curtain, carried by the body heat desperately trying to escape the cloying room.
With my heart in my throat, I pulled aside the curtain and ducked inside.
Only candlelight brightened the dark, in dancing circles here and there. Despite the old, abandoned location, decadence abounded. Young, lithe bodies glittered in the soft orange light, sweaty and writhing along to music that was loud enough to envelop me.
Everywhere I looked, people engaged with one another, pouring drinks from one mouth to another, dark red rivulets of wine staining their skin. Tonguesfollowed the trails, licking alcohol and sweat from between tits, and the tight abs of athletes.
Everyone wore masks. Some wore only partial masks, with swollen lips bursting from beneath covered eyes, while others, like me, were unrecognisable.
How many of these are my students?How many of these people did I see every day, cloaked in baggy clothing and with hang-over induced eye bags, loitering on seats while yawning? They’d likely be unrecognisable even without the masks. In there, they swarmed with vitality, lust and abandon.
A group of young men ripped apart a woman’s dress, exposing her as she gave a pretty moan. Mouths descended on her. Biting, licking, and sucking until she begged for more. For fingers. For cocks. They obliged with feral grunts, looking like a pack of wild dogs as they passed her from dick to dick, impatiently waiting for their turn with the trembling girl. Her body quaked as one man slid his mouth over her reddened cunt, unbothered that his friend’s cock was an inch from his tongue. Her scream of pleasure cut off as her mouth filled with another young buck.
Fucking hell.
I’d seen nothing quite like it. Where were those parties when I was in college?
Bex.
Shit, she could be spread among a pack of men of her own. Jealousy flooded my veins, warring with the intense arousal the scene had brought on.
I could lose myself in the night so easily. All around, bodies moaned and squirmed, bounced and danced.
Condoms littered tabletops. But from what I’d seen, they were largely being ignored.
Planned parenthood would have a field day tomorrow.
Making my way through the swathes of naked bodies felt like a fever dream, as I lost track of time and place while hunting for my obsession. Masked or not, I’d find her.
Drinks pressed into my hand, one pretty little thing splashing wine directly from the bottle into my mouth, pulling my mask up to do so.
I shouldn’t have let her, but I was lost in a lust-filled enchantment.
The Initiation felt like falling into another world. Some faerie land where you’d experience ultimate pleasures, likely for the price of your soul.
Rebecca appeared as if by magic, sitting on an old leather couch between a man and a woman. The dress she wore looked fashioned out of ribbons, andmy fingers itched to walk over and tear the red silk from her body.
But other hands were on her.
Other mouths.
Jealousy hit me like a train, my body flushing as I tensed.
The mask she wore barely covered her eyes, not caring whether anyone recognised her. Curls of blonde hair lay against her shoulders, where the woman pushed them aside to lick at Bex’s neck.
Bex stared directly at me, a smile playing on her lips when our eyes met.
She uncrossed her legs, splaying them slightly before crossing them in the opposite direction, giving me a peek at her bare cunt.
Dirty.
Little.