You hunt together for more dangerous prey.

You pour another shot and slam it down, feeling the liquid courage fill your veins and crowing, "Let's go find some studs and make steaks out of them!" Barbie squeals and steals a kiss, sliding her tongue past your luscious lips to get a taste of scotch. She calls a taxi between kisses and you share another glass of scotch, passing swigs between your moist mouths and then hitting the pipe again. You wonder if she is trying to get you bombed and blazed so you won't chicken out or if she's the one drowning and drugging her fears.

For your part, the real high is the thrill of danger and the dizzying, degrading debauchery. The smoke and scotch just help take the edge of the side effects of your reckless raunchiness, namely the stark terror that you are biting off much more than you can chew. You make out with Barbie in the back of the cab as the driver swerves in traffic trying to sneak peaks up your dresses. You aren't sure what excites or terrifies you more, the screeching brakes and near collisions or the thought of what the degenerate driver will do if he spys your sissy shafts. You are drunk on the dizzying cocktail of fear and fantasy, floating through the evening like a naughty nightmare or waking wet dream. You are falling so fast that it feels like flying, and you tell yourself you'll find a big strong man or ten to catch you before you crash.

When the taxi pulls up to your destination, you realize why Barbie wanted it to be a surprise. It's an abandoned rest stop on the outskirts of town, looking like a crime scene waiting to be discovered. She hops out of the cab and slips the driver the fare along with a taste of her tongue as a tip. She seems eager, excited, entranced even as she watches him drive away and turns and walks towards the dimly lit door of the dirty restroom. You follow her fearlessly, feeling somehow protected by your own perversity. After all, what's the worst that can happen? You can't rape the willing, and even in this piss stained pitstop that looks like a scene out of Silent Hill, you feel willing to do anything.

"If you think this place looks romantic wait until you see the back room." Barbie smiles and leads you by the hand back to the corner stall she sits you down on the broken toilet and straddling you coos, "The Candyman sent me." Before you can ask what she means, the room spins around you. You know you've had too much to drink now...then you notice that the room isn't spinning, you are! Your shitter is on a swivel, turning along with the wall behind you to reveal a secret passage!

Barbie grinds against your groin and giggles, "Hee Hee! Welcome to Club Fuck, Ella! I found the directions in my mom's drawers one morning...don't ask, and I've been dreaming of coming here ever since. I was too nervous to go alone, but with you by my side, I can do anything." Barbie is bouncing bubbily down the sinister spiral staircase. The walls are red velvet and you can smell sex in the air. The air is thick with it, a humid heat that grows more sweltering with each step. You feel a pang of fear cut through your foggy thoughts, but you are so twisted up inside by this point that it just makes your clit throb harder and your cunt pucker hungrily.

A mountain of a man greets you at the door. He is covered head to toe in black leather from his steel toed boots, to his serrated codpiece, spiked knuckles on his greased gloves, and his mask covered in teeth, roots pointing out affixed to his full face mask. He looks like the doorman of the damned, and here you are asking to be let in. His eyes shine like the edge of a knife, piercing through to your soul. You intuit instantly that he will be able to smell a lie on you. He says in a eerily even deadpan, "It looks like someone has been going through their mommy's drawers." It isn't a question.

You huddle up against Bambi, nodding along with her as you wait for his merciless judgement. He laughs, the sound of dead leaves crushed under his heel. Then he states matter of factly. "That's fine with us, of course. Us wolves just love lost little lambs. You have one last chance to turn back, but if you enter, you will do so as No Rank, meaning you will have to submit to any order that any other member gives you. Decide now. Enter as your last act of free will, or run away like the cute little bunnies you are."

You look to Barbie for courage, but she looks even more unsure than you. It looks like you will be deciding for the two of you...