Indulgence

"So," she began, simply. "Must I ask the obvious?"

"Where is Dr. Sebastian Murphy, and who am I," he replied, statement rather than question. "He is safe and sound, you need not worry."

A pause. She waited for him to continue. When he did not, she continued instead: "And you are?"

He frowned as he appeared to weigh his answer to what was, Farah assumed, a simple and straightforward question. "That is complicated," he said, finally.

Now it was Farah's turn to frown. "Complicated? Yes, I suppose it is. I've never had contact with or spoken to you before now, yet somehow, you know not only my name, but the name of the person that I came here to meet. And because you know that, I'm assuming that you also know my reason for being here in the first place."

He nodded, nonplussed. "Of course. You are here to complete your assignment. You are reporting on the findings of breakthrough genetics research which was presented at the Genesis Conference earlier today." He smirked, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. "You were meeting Dr. Murphy here to extract information that would not have otherwise been...readily available, shall we say."

"How do you know-?!"

"Easy, Farah," he said in a gentle voice. "It's simple: I hired you. Well...I did so on the behalf of my organization."

Farah was silent as her mind worked to comprehend what she was hearing. That would definitely explain how he knew her and the particulars of her assignment. But it begged the question of...

"Why?" she inquired. "Why hire me to do a job, then spy on me?"

"Spying is not what I do," he corrected. "Observation, yes. I prefer to take an...ethnographic approach. There is no better way to learn about an individual than to experience that individual in his or her own element. A freelance journalist of well repute was hired because, as a personnel broker for our clients, the assignment needed to be handled with a high degree of execution. You were hired because I wanted to observe you in action. Suffice to say, I was not disappointed."

Farah blushed in spite of her situation and not comprehending the complete relevance of what she was being told. "So where does Murphy fit in?" she asked as their water was placed on the table.

"Murphy was merely a mechanism for additional observation. Tomorrow, you will complete your interview with him. Coaxing won't be necessary. He will be compensated for his cooperation. No... I am more interested in what you thought about the couple."

Farah nearly choked on her water. "The...the couple?" she stuttered.

"Of course," he said quietly. "They were mine as well."

Farah was suddenly aware of how wet she was. The inside of her upper thighs were slick with fluid. She realized that she had been unconsciously clenching them together as her employer- this stranger, spoke. She was in the Twilight Zone. She knew that she should leave; This man was dangerous. At least, he was the kind of danger that she knew to look out for. But how long had it been since she was aroused like this? The mystery, the secrecy...her Valentine's Day was taking quite a turn. She couldn't run from it now. The man was right. There would be time for work. Now was the time for discovering how deep the rabbit hole really went. Now was the time for indulgence.

"They were yours." she repeated quietly. "Are you a pimp of some kind?"

He laughed, deep and mirthful. "That is also complicated. Rather, it oversimplifies my position," he explained. "In a traditional sense, no. However, as I stated before, the organization that I work for does deal in...personnel."

"A staffing agency?"

"Closer," he said, repositioning to rest his limbs on the arms of his chair. "Think talent acquisition. We provide our clients with exceptional personnel for whatever service that they may need performed. The freelancers on our payroll are the best of the best, scouted and handpicked. In return for an overwhelmingly positive rate of success, we provide exclusive job opportunities and incentives that remain unmatched."

"It's strange," Farah allowed. "I had never heard of your company until I received that email. Web searches revealed a fledgling startup. I would have ignored it as spam save for the format and cash advance. I was definitely surprised that it panned out to be legit, but the airfare and the hotel...I knew...know, something is off. Unfortunately, I go with my gut, and my gut is usually attracted to the curious and bizarre."

"Am I curious or bizarre?" he asked, holding her gaze.

The tension intensified. She felt a bead of perspiration trace its way down her spine. Seeking to escape the lock, she looked down at his lap. The charcoal-colored wool of his slacks were intricately woven, possibly hand-made. She wasn't sure if it was the subtle pattern of the needlework playing tricks on her, or if he was indeed abundantly blessed. As if to answer her question, the print came to life, bulging slightly as if it had a mind of its own. The heat between Farah's legs had spread to her chest.

"You are...something," she admitted, the hue of her olive skin deepening.

"As are you, Farah," he replied, sipping from his water. "Your acquiescence to your gut instinct; Your resourcefulness; Your beauty and your sensuality and your willingness to use them in order to acquire what it is that you want or need; Your focus...All of your characteristics have blended quite wonderfully to create such an exquisite woman."

Farah listened silently, her ego swelling, undoubtedly, like the lips of her sex. She was proud of herself, but more importantly, more crucial to the moment, she was proud that she had pleased him. This complete stranger. She felt happy to be of service to this utterly attractive and resourceful man. A man, finally, who was worthy of her. Her gut told her as much. She wanted to continue to be of service to him, in whatever capacity that he requested. Nothing would satisfy her more. The wet heat of her pulsing sex radiated through her abdomen, warming her stomach. She had a growing urge to satiated, filled. She was certain that food would do no more than scratch the surface of her desire.

"And so," he continued. "Again, I must ask. What did you think of the couple?"

"Can I see them again?" she asked, quietly.

The stranger smiled in response. "You may call me Nicholas, by the way."

Holding his hand up, he signaled to the waiter. As it turned out, they wouldn't require a menu after all.

~

The initial penetration was slow. Positioning himself above her, his back arched upward as he entered her. Her lips parted noisily as they split to accept him. A carnal sound escaped her mouth. He had only given her an inch, two tops. Now he waited. He wanted to feel her body go through its changes as her patience wore thin. He wanted to feel her clench and tighten, trapping him inside of her. She wasn't biting fast enough, so he applied more bait, sliding himself deeper. That got her. She gyrated her hips lustfully, her breathing becoming erratic.

"Please..." she whispered, growing frantic.

She was revealing her need to him. He was merciful, giving her more, but not all. She whimpered, on the verge of tears. He wasn't being fair. She needed all of it, he knew that. But the delay of her gratification empowered him. He swelled inside of her, his pride slowing probing deeper. Her hands wrapped around his back, trying to pull him closer. She traced the grooves and indentations of its muscles. Her legs followed suit around his waist. He gave her his entirety in response. Now she was full, pulsing along its girth as he throbbed in return. It reverberated through her, making goosebumps spring up across her flesh. There was an abundance of movement in their stillness. Her breathing was rapid. He had only just bottomed out, but her orgasm was approaching. He felt it too. He readjusted himself inside of her slightly, thrilled to hear the wet squelch of her sex.

"Fuck you," she spat. "Split me the fuck open."

He had to be quick, he knew; He wouldn't have long left now. Overcome with sudden urgency, he gripped her throat tightly, forcing himself into her until he could go no further. The shock of his sudden assault melted into euphoria as her eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in soundless exultation. Her breath had caught in her lungs. His thrusts were short and spastic, each one bringing him closer to the precipice. He moaned, deep and long at the point of release, emptying himself inside of her. She felt the liquid filling her and began to shake violently in the wake of her own orgasm. She had no breath left in her body. She was beginning to fade when his grip on her throat was released. He kept himself imbedded within her while she herself struggled to regulate her breathing.

Farah stood shivering in stunned silence. The energy in the room was voluminous, tangible even. She felt electrified. Most apparent was her itch, her desire to touch herself; the need was all-consuming though her hands were restrained behind her back. What had she stepped into? Nicholas stood behind her, watching in silence. She turned to him, pleading with her eyes. When he looked down at her, his eyes seemed different from before. Darker, she realized. The smug, easy comfort of his presence was gone. In its place was a focused intensity. His formality remained, but Farah was acutely aware that this man, despite everything that had occurred, was in fact a stranger to her. Maybe it was this place, but she knew now that his initial demeanor was no more than a practiced front. Convincing, yet artificial.

Hours earlier, when they had left the restaurant, he hadn't told her exactly where they were going. 'An interesting place that I think you will like,' he had said, simply. Opening the back door of the luxury sedan that idled before them, he allowed her to slide in before closing it securely. Entering the back of the vehicle on the opposite side, his valet had glanced at him through the rearview.

"Elysium."

His valet nodded mutely, pulling the vehicle slowly away from the curb. Nicholas was silent for the duration of the journey, but Farah knew better than to ruin the experience with myriad questions. The valet was on course for the highway, so she knew that they were likely leaving the city limits, and Elysium was definitely the name of a place of some kind. The rest would be revealed when they arrived. She passed the time looking out of the darkly tinted windows and listening to the monotonous hum of traversed road. Every now and again, she would glance over at her host. His eyes remained closed, but she suspected that he wasn't asleep; He retained his upright position regardless of bump or twist in the road. Meditation, perhaps?

Finally, she saw it. A large mansion stood proudly in the distance. Arriving at the ornate metal gate at the base of the hill, the valet rolled down his window to access a key console. A code was input, causing the gate to creak to life.

"Elysium is run in secrecy," Nicholas began suddenly, shocking Farah who had been entranced by the soft red glow that emanated from the windows of the compound. The sedan continued onwards towards an expansive circular driveway. It was filled with vehicles. Pristinely dressed valets were tending to them quickly and efficiently. Their suits were fire red, buttoned over crisp, black dress shirts. The guests made their way to the mansion entrance. "It is a club, of sorts, for those whose tastes run...deviant."

"Exclusive membership, I'd presume?" Farah asked still entranced by the crimson.

"Invitation only," he confirmed with a nod. "It's ranks consist of powerful men and women of all industries. They enjoy their privacy."

"And here you've gone and brought a journalist to their little sex party," she remarked as her door was opened. The valet held out his hand to help her and she took it graciously. Passing guests turned to eye her admiringly. She fit her dress snugly and though it was unexpected, she felt adequately prepared for the occasion.

Nicholas exited the vehicle and came around to meet her. As they made their way to the entrance, they were approached by a slender woman. Farah silently eyed her physique, coming to rest on the thin leather collar that embraced her throat.

"Welcome back, sir," the woman said. "Is this your guest for the evening?" Her accent was thick; Farah discerned that it was Chinese.

"She is," Nicholas responded.

The woman turned to face Farah. "Here at Elysium, we only allow guests for our annual events. In order to gain entry, you must be accompanied by a sponsor. That sponsor may be any club member of good standing. Additionally, you must sign a non-disclosure agreement barring you sharing anything and everything that you will witness while on the premises."

She produced a clip-board that held a copy of the unsigned NDA and held it out to Farah. Farah turned to Nicholas, who shrugged his shoulders.

"You were saying something before about journalists and sex parties?" he quipped.

Frowning, she quickly scanned the document before signing it and handing it back to the hostess.

Accepting the board, the host signaled over to a fiercely bearded man. He appeared to be holding a clear bottle of dark red liquid and leather wrist restraints.

"There is but one rule that you, as a guest, will be required to adhere to for the duration of your visit," the hostess continued. "As a guest, you lack initiation. Your hands are unclean. And so, they must remain bound behind your back throughout the evening. You may not remove them. You may be touched, but you cannot touch."

The bearded man handed the bottle to Nicholas before using the restraints to bind Farah's wrists behind her. Nicholas uncorked the bottle, wafting its contents before licking his lips and smiling. Farah's heart pounded in her chest. He gently tilted her chin upwards.

"Drink," he commanded.

Farah swallowed hard. "Yes."

Nicholas tilted the bottle above her mouth, expertly pouring its contents down her throat. Immediately, her chest burned with heat. She felt the liquid making its way through her body. She licked her lips, savoring its unique taste. Suddenly, the red hues seemed much deeper. Her body felt lighter and her eyelids drooped slightly. She turned to looked at the hostess, smiling seductively. Reaching out, she took Farah's face gently in her hands and leaned in to kiss her. A shiver ran down Farah's spine. She felt light headed. The woman's tongue intertwined with her own, a graceful caress. She parted lips with Farah, their tongues springing out to meet one last time.

"Welcome to Elysium," she whispered in Farah's ear.

Looking back on it now, after witnessing such a sexual display, Farah realized that she remembered only bits and pieces of the preceding hours. Her short-term recollection was hazy, no doubt an effect of the red liquid that she had imbibed intermittently throughout the evening. Whoever made it was nothing short of an alchemist.

She vaguely remembered large oaken doors, and being enveloped the moment that she crossed their threshold. Everywhere she turned were equal parts red and revelry. Naked, collared men and woman perused the party, engaging sensually with guests while they distributed a steady, controlled supply of the red liquid. The dosage that Farah had taken was the kicker, it seemed, meant to loosen her up though it had performed infinitely times better. The amounts being served were only enough to fill a thimble. Regardless, it got the job done. She remembered a particularly well-built server grinning at her as she passed by. He held out his tray to her. Looking down, her eyes bulged at the sight of his manhood. It hung low, thick and monstrous, crowned by a black cock-ring at its base. He winked as he walked off, followed by a haze of red.

Her evening had continued on this way. She had walked the halls of the mansion, her curiosity and wonder set into overdrive. She would pass a group of guests, dancing sensually to the unrelenting bass and before she could think twice, she would hear Nicholas' mantra from somewhere nearby, telling her to indulge. He had opened doors at random for her throughout her tour, allowing her to witness a variety of clandestine liaisons. In one room, she recalled an orgy of obscene proportions, wet and coiled like the mating ball of a snake. In another room, she found a man masturbating furiously as he watched 2 rogue male servers fucking a woman into submission. In another room still, she discovered an assortment of toys and contraptions to be used for both pleasure and pain. Interestingly, it had been empty.

She had turned to Nicholas. "Come," was all that he had said.

The deeper into the mansion they journeyed, the fewer guests they came across. She remembered a flight of stairs leading off to the west wing of the manse. Finally, Farah remembered arriving in the room that contained the couple from the Genesis Conference. Nicholas had closed the door this time, locking it behind them.

The exhibitionists' display had once again left Farah yearning. Her sex throbbed, demanding attention. Nicholas pressed against her from behind. She felt the bulge in his pants and licked her lips.

"Ah, there he is," she cooed.

The woman, her breathing restored, locked eyes with Farah. Her partner continued to stroke into her slowly, causing the white contents of her sex to leak out. She kept her gaze on Farah.

"What do you think she wants?" Nicholas asked Farah softly. He placed his hand firmly on her stomach, her heat radiating through the light fabric to warm his palm. She bit her lip and leaned back into him, tilting her chin up.

"I think she wants to see my pussy," Farah responded.

The woman flinched, her breathe catching on the last stroke. She touched her partner's chest, signaling for him to stop. Wordlessly, he unsheathed himself and lay on his back facing Farah. The woman moved with feline grace, mounting him quickly. She began to ride him slowly. Her eyes were still on Farah.

"And what do you want?" Nicholas asked once more. His hand on her stomach had closed, gripping a fistful of her dress.

"I want to show her."

Slowly, he lifted her dress, pulling it above her waist until she was completely exposed. She widened her stance, her shaven sex glistened in the red glow, its' lips swollen and dark. The woman moaned, her fingernails digging into her partner's chest. Nicholas unzipped her dress from behind before peeling it off of her. Her breasts bounced free, her nipples painfully erect.

"Go to her," he commanded.

Immediately Farah crossed the room, squatting on the man's face. She felt his tongue enter in as his mouth opened to accept her. The woman impaled herself on him before opening her mouth to accept Farah's tongue hungrily. She moaned as she kissed her, her lust finally unleashed. The woman moved from Farah's mouth to her neck, and then to her breasts, tracing a path down her torso with her tongue. She flitted it on Farah's nipples before sucking them deeply, making Farah's toes curled. Powerful arms seized her thighs, reminding her that she was being taken from underneath. She was caught off guard by her orgasm, overwhelmed by the experience. Tonight, she would be used thoroughly. She would let them have their way with her. She would indulge, because nothing else mattered.

Nicholas moved to open the door. Farah attempted to turn to him, but her face was caught by the woman's hands.

"He is not your concern," she said, kissing Farah's forehead. "You belong to us tonight."

"Take good care of her," Nicholas said before leaving the room. The door locked behind him.