✝︎ 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 ✝︎

-1-

Rin

I notice a crowd gather around the booth. It's a small building-like structure in the middle of the room with thick ceiling-to-floor glass windows rather than walls. I find my small self in the midst of the crowd, pushing my way to the front. It's a candle-wax scene; the Dom has his sub tied to the chair, her hands suspended and her legs chained open. It's more of a stool since the chair doesn't have a back, so she has to keep her own posture; I wouldn't imagine her hands are that taught to the ceiling hooks.

The Dom isn't wearing a mask, so it's easy to tell that it's Nickolas Sprauve. This isn't my first time at a sex club, but it is my first time at this particular one in which I'm in shock about the amount of familiar faces I'm seeing.

These are people I see on everyday television, or on billboard advertisements. Models and CEOs... what am I doing here?

I catch myself staring. I'm entranced by the way he gazes down at her, and the way he seems to be in an entire different space of mind than the super famous Nikolas Sprauve. He looks comfortable. He looks oddly at home with the chain that's suspending his partner in one hand, and a glass jar with a candle inside in the other. It takes a moment before I realize that his partner has blonde hair meanwhile Missus Sprauve actually has jet black hair. I tense, and it comes back to me why I was looking around in the first place.

Cherry.

I huff and begin making my way back through the crowd. I glance back over my shoulder to see Mister Sprauve pouring the candle wax on his partner. She flinches, but I'm sure a noise would've followed if the room wasn't soundproof. I shake my head and continue making my way through the crowd. I look around, vexed by the absence of my stepsister. I mentally huff, then grab my phone from my pocket as I scour the room with my eyes one more time.

It's funny too, that just as I unlock my phone, a message comes in from the lady of the hour. 'I'm outside whenever you're ready babes,' it says. I roll my eyes then begin making my way to the exit.

Like most sex clubs, this one is located in the basement of a regular club. I like the dungeon vibes it gives off. Once I reach outside, the sunlight hits my face. I hiss a bit. I look around the parking lot for Cherry's wrangler; it's pink and hard to miss. I approach it, a little dizzy from the sudden atmosphere shift. I open the door and get in, making sure I strap myself in since Cherry drives like we both have more lives than a common housecat.

The ride starts off quiet. I'm cringing inwardly at Cherry's taste of music; it's loud and just reminds me of Barbie. I'm gazing out the window, not even looking at the side mirror. I'm just lost in my head when I suddenly feel a cold hand on my bare arm. I flinch.

"Jesus, Cherry!" I hiss, shaking my shivers off.

"I'm sorry!" she responds with a giggle, "I was calling you but you all lost in Rinny-Land as usual." I raise my own hand to try and warm up the spot she touched.

"What's up? You okay?" Cherry asks.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno. You sure took your time in that club, don'tcha think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're usually outside waiting for me after the first half hour or so." She shrugs. I notice it from the corner of my eye and turn to look at her properly.

"How long were we in there?" I ask, glancing down at my phone.

"Around two or three hours," she says. "Something catch your attention?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. And hey, when are you gonna stop taking me to these things?" I turn to face back outside the window, now watching myself in the mirror.