Masque

I walked inside and was immediately greeted by a bouncer who asked for my ID.

I handed him my driver's license, which he scanned and, handing out back to me, said, "Miss, Masque is a private club for members. I can't let you in unless you join."

Having done this sort of thing before, I paid the cover charge disguised as a membership fee, signed my name and headed in.

Inside, it was… strange. To the right was a dance floor, moderately crowded, but not like you'd be bumping hips with people. To the left was a bar, which I suddenly needed. And, at the back, were the stairs to a second level that was closed to non-VIPs.

I made my way to the bar and ordered a mojito. The bartender nodded and, a moment later, I was fueling myself with liquid courage, something, I realized, I'd done a lot of since the {if husband==true}divorce{else}breakup{endif}.

Leaving my empty glass, I looked for a spot on the dance floor that didn't seem to be dominated by established couples and joined in.

The music was some wordless EDM that I'd never heard before, but catchy and easy to dance to, or at least my slightly tipsy self thought it was easy to dance to. And that lasted right up until some girl wearing a stupid belt covered in long sharp studs slammed into my ass, jabbing me with two dozen little points.

Angry at getting jabbed and, admittedly drunk after a second mojito, I spun around and smacked the uncourteous dancer. Unfortunately, I definitely slapped her too hard and she fell at my feet in an **** heap.

Startled at what I'd accidentally done, I scooped up the girl, who was surprisingly heavy despite not looking overweight, and I carried her to the ladies' room.

Setting her on the bench, I wet a paper towel and dabbed it to her cheek, hoping the cold water would prevent any swelling or bruise.

As I sat with her, I looked down at her stupid studded belt that she never should have worn dancing. And, I looked further down at her well toned legs. And for whatever reason, I bent over and kissed her thigh… and her knee… and her calf… and then, more gently than before, I slowly bit. This time I stopped after I felt my teeth break her skin. I pulled back a little to let the blood trickle free and I adjusted my mouth so the my tongue could lap at the wound.

I don't know how long I sat there, lapping at the wound, but it was enough for the girl to wake up, unbeknownst to me. When I came to my senses and pulled back, I was utterly unprepared for the girl to throw herself upon me, knocking me to the floor while she lay atop me.

"Yes, mistress, make me one of yours! I long for a life as a predator of the night!" she said, with manic abandon.

Needless to say, I was drunk and scared shitless of the woman atop me.