The Second Circle Den

You're determined that there's no level of "too crazy" for you. Certainly not while you're with Carrie. And she doesn't protest. She just nods her head and says, "Ok"

You land, check into the hotel, get a bunch of cash per Carrie's suggestion and then head out to the club. Carrie wears a long fishnet dress, and a thong underneath, but nothing to cover up her massive tits. Anyone out on the town can see them clearly through the netting. Your Uber drops you off in a strange part of town, not that you're particularly familiar with L.A. You trust that Carrie knows what she's doing. Still, you feel odd, walking down the street, your exposed girlfriend next to you, past junkies and homeless tent cities.

Finally you turn into an old building. Empty. You give Carrie a concerned look but she's determined. She heads to a nearby stairwell and you go down, and through a door, and suddenly you're at the back of a long line.

So you wait. A few people in front of you are turned away, seemingly lots of single guys aren't making it in. You're not too worried, not standing next to the sexual queen of the century. And you're right not to be. The doorman takes one look at Carrie and waves you both through.

Then you're in a room where a man sits at a desk, looks Carrie up and down, and scribbles something on a slip of paper. Suddenly two men are upon your girlfriend, grabbing her arms and pulling them behind her, binding them, and dragging her off.

You're shocked. What is happening? But Carrie isn't. She gives a wink that suggest that this is all as it should be. She vanishes. Still, your heart pounds. What did you agree to?

The man at the desk hands his slip of paper to one of the guys who pulled your girlfriend away, then looks at you, nodding his head toward a door. "In." he says. So you go through it. You felt good as long as you had Carrie with you. Now you're alone.

The room you enter is massive, like the floor of an underground parking garage. Maybe that's what it used to be. Every 20 feet or so, there is a row of thick round pillars, and at the base of each pillar, three naked women, on the ground, locked to a chain that wraps around the post. You approach the nearest one.

The first woman you see is a pretty blonde, kneeling, staring upward with her mouth open. The word "JIZZ" is scribbled on her forehead, and her face and tits and entire body really is drenched in cum. A man steps up to her, pulls out his cock and starts to jerk it over her. So you step away. Next to her, a girl is positioned in a different way, on all fours, her ass pointed up in the air. On her plump ass, the word "FILL" is written and indeed cum drips down from her puckered asshole. The third woman seems a bit busy at the moment, taking a man's fist deep in her pussy. So you don't step up to see what word is scribbled on her pale body. But you have a pretty good guess.

You look up across the room. There are hundreds of these women stretching as far as the eye can see. Inherently you seem to know that Carrie has just become one. Your cock stiffens. You're not sure what to do from here when a cocktail waitress approaches you. She's tall and thin, her dark hair pulled in a tight ponytail, wearing only a black thong and stiletto heels. Her nipples and nose are pierced. She holds up a tray with drinks on it. Gladly you take one.

"Twenty." she says. So you grab a $20 bill from your pocket and as you go to put it on the tray she opens her mouth for you. So you shove it between her lips and she walks away.

"This is your first time here, isn't it?" You hear a woman's voice behind you. You turn to see a beautiful tall blonde in a tight dress.

You try to play it cool. "No, I'm here all the time." but you're hardly convincing. So you give up. "Yeah... how could you tell?"

"I dunno. Just based on how nice you were being." She says as a cocktail waitress approaches her too. She grabs a drink and responds to the waitress's request for "twenty" by taking a $100 bill out of her handbag and shoving it down the front of the waitress's thong, then clearly inside the suddenly gasping girl. "It's a lot to take in at first.

You take a long sip of your drink. She's right and you think maybe she can answer a few questions of yours. She seems to be taking a liking to you. "So I came with my girlfriend and..."

"I wouldn't even try to find her if I were you." She says. "You'll never be able to in this mess." She starts to meander and you follow. "I usually come here with my sister and we take turns being the um... donation. Sometimes I can find her sometimes I can't."

You're distracted for a moment by the sight of a petite Asian girl with needles in her small tits and the word "HURT" written on her torso. You shake your head. It's a lot to take in.

Your new friend goes on. "You know the name of this place... The Second Circle? That's the circle of hell where the lustful are punished. They say that there are seven secret floors below here just like hell..." she takes a sip of her drink. "I dunno... I've never been sent to one of them. They always put me out here somewhere. Probably just a rumor." She shrugs. "Sometimes I think they pick a few girls and just put them in a back room to sip coffee and watch TV all night just to perpetuate the rumor. I mean... that's never happened to me thankfully."

"They say there are celebrities here." You ask

"Sometimes." She shrugs. "I've come here about a dozen times and I've only seen two. Besides who cares? This room is filled with some of the most beautiful women in the world, all degrading themselves for you. Who needs celebrities?"

She sees a girl who catches her eye. On her knees, soaking wet, the word "SPIT" written on her chest. She kneels beside her and smiles. "Hello beautiful" then leans in and takes a long lick up the girl's left breast, taking a mouthful of saliva, then spitting it down onto the girl's pretty makeup-messed face.

Then she turns her attention back to you. "My name is Clover by the way. Want to stick with me?"

You sorta do. It's nice to have a guide. Then again, if she's not interested in celebrities, that's why you're here. You're torn. Not to mention, the drink has gone right through you. You could really use a restroom.