She may not be a virgin, but at this particular moment, Cyrene definitely felt it. What her friend had been thinking, bring her to a place like this she will never know.
All around her were people doing, in some form or another, the most sinful acts of fornication she had ever witnessed. It was like a sexual show-and-tell, with everyone watching and joining in on everyone else's show. There were men and women, women and women, and men and men. There were two-somes, and three-somes. Christ, Cyrene could even see a beautiful black-haired woman chained down on a cushioned table, writhing and screaming in ecstasy while a line of men formed behind the one currently fucking her in order to participate in the gang bang.
"Ohh," moaned Lissy, "that looks like fun."
Cyrene looked over to where her friend was watching in unabashed interest. Lying no more than twenty feet away on the lush dark red carpet, were four entwined blond females. Four nude, entwined females. Above them stood a hideously fat man, still (thankfully) enrobed as Cyrene and Lissy were in black satin robes, but for his tiny little prick that was completely hidden in his huge, meaty hand.
"Please tell me you mean the girls and not that man," she begged, noting how ironic such a statement was, considering her friend was straight (to her knowledge at least).
Lissy took in the man who was now grunting with pleasure as he whacked off viciously to the light slurps of the women licking and kissing each other. "Of course I mean the girls," she sniffed indignantly.
Evidently not quite as straight as she had originally thought.
"Oh please, stop looking so scandalized!" She rolled her eyes at Cyrene's naivety.
Lissy ushered her over to a very well stocked bar where a drop-dead sexy bartender stood waiting. He wore nothing but a black leather thong that slipped up between his fine muscled ass cheeks. As the two females approached, he smiled, "Lissy, my love," his voice was whispered seduction, "a little Foreplay?"
"You always know what pleasures me, Mark." She smiled back at him, and then nodded at Cyrene," And I think my friend here could use some JD in a very large glass."
Mark's gaze turned and focused on Cyrene. His dark eyes traveled up and down her body, leaving her feel as nude as those women Lissy had been admiring. "My, my, my. Isn't she a sweet little thing."
"Yes, and completely new to this, Mark. We don't want to frighten her any more than she already is, so you keep your dirty, perverted hands off of her, and on me."
Mark chuckled as he moved to pluck a large bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf. He twirled it around for a moment like in the movie "Cocktails" then poured a large amount into a glass. After he pushed it towards her, he asked, "So what's your name, my pet?"
"Cyrene."
He chuckled again at her quietly shy voice. "Welcome to Dionysus, Cyrene. Best drink up. You look like you need it."
Cyrene took up the glass and drowned it in a single gulp. Lissy's perfectly plucked eyebrows rose, but Mark remained tactfully impassive and poured her another shot - the mark of a true bartender. She was grateful to him, even if she was a little disconcerted by the animalistic way he was eyeing her.
"So," she drew out the word for a few moments; collecting her thoughts, "what now?"
Lissy tossed her long red locks over her shoulder, and fluffed up her small breasts before smoothing down her robe, "Now, I think I'm going to disrupt those little blond angels with a bit of devil."
Her smile was wicked and her eyes gleamed with unholy delight. She blew them a kiss before turning to leave. Full hips swayed seductively as she made her way across the room. A few interested looks turned her way, both male and female, then back to whatever they were doing when she reached the very spot where the fat man had sprayed his gunk.
Cyrene turned away quickly when Lissy slipped out of her robe. It wasn't that she had never seen her friend naked before - they worked out together three days a week, and so changed and showered together three days a week - but she felt like Lissy was at the edge of Hell, and Cyrene didn't want to witness her friend's enthusiastic dive.
Good god, what was she doing there? Why was she still there? With Lissy distracted (and she could hear how distracted she was, despite the twenty feet separating them) she could escape into the changing room, get dressed, and get out of there before anyone took notice of her. She didn't belong in a place like this. Cyrene had had only two men, straight missionary position, with satisfactory results. For criminy sakes, she could go and call up Rich right now and get a little some-some if she wanted.
But she didn't want Rich, nor Jack (who had turned out to be a total jackass), nor did she escape into the changing room. She just stood there, leaning against the bar, swirling around the quarter full glass of golden liquid with one hand while she twirled a strand of her hair with the other. She tried not to look at the depravity around her, tried to ignore the moans of pleasure and squeals of pain-filled delight, but with no success.
Cyrene closed her eyes and leaned her head back. This was going to be a long night.
When she opened them, Mark was standing before her instead of behind the bar, where his fine ass belonged. He was looking her up and down, as if he could see right though the silk robe. She, in turn, couldn't help but to eye his body seeing as it was all but naked.
He really was a gorgeous man with short blond hair, pale blue eyes, and a tall, very muscled body. Cyrene thought the thong might be a bit painful to wear, but looked unbelievably sexy with his perfect body and perfectly large package.
Suddenly, she realized where she was staring - where she had been staring for a few seconds in fact - and jerked her eyes back to his. He was smiling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mark was a very jaded man. He had seen, heard, and done too much during the three years he has worked at Dionysus. This was the most exclusive sex club in California, hence the most secret. Only the rich and famous came here to indulge in the darker side of sex. If you weren't rich and famous, you were one lucky son of a bitch to make it through the door.
You could do anything you wanted here, just so long as you were a legal adult. Sex toys of every shape, size, and description were provided for those who wanted them. Couches, chairs, tables, and beds were scattered around the room. The floor was carpeted in the softest and most brilliantly red Berber. One wall had three sets of chains; two were fur-lined, the other was the real-deal, heavy wrought iron (for the sadists).
And then in walked pure white innocence. Oh sure, Mark could tell she wasn't technically innocent, but Cyrene's heart was untainted by the corrupt, her body untouched by filth.
He wanted to chain her arms and legs to the wall with the iron shackles, spread her wide as an eagle, and torture her senseless with his tongue. He wanted her bent over his bar, ass thrust in the air, as he pounded one of those extra large dildos into her pretty little star-shaped hole. He wanted her lying amid Lissy's angels, lapping and suckling at nipples and clits. He wanted her begging for him to demean her. To use her. To fuck her. To dirty her.