Chapter 1

Yet, Amira saw the first of many victims: A man carelessly holding a sapphire necklace that must have been worth at least a couple thousands. Sure, not as massive as Paul’s thirty thousand dollars watch, but it was like snatching three months worth of salary in one petty second. Horrible, but necessary.

She studied her opponent a bit further:

This man was tall, dark and had a bushy beard. In his mid-thirties, this man was nonetheless incredibly beautiful.

She took a single step towards him, but in one terrifying second, her instinct commanded her to stop: Suddenly, all the noise in the room died down, now replaced by a weary, suspenseful silence.

How did they catch me already?

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Someone announced. Amira turned around to see Paul standing on a table, holding a glass of champagne which he held up in the air “We have among us none other than an honoured guest, Lady Tanya. Give it up, everyone!” A thunderous clap welcomed on the table the tall woman who pushed her in the crowd just a moment ago. Somehow, the scowl she wore seemed to be lighter this time, almost see-through:

“Thank you, everyone!” As the noise died down, two of the masked women she saw a while ago walked by her feet, so rhythmically and so orderly she couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was rehearsed.

“Our monthly Limelight party shall be introduced by no other than my esteemed subjects, Cara and Carrie!” As she said this, her hand was held by Paul, who helped her get off the table.

Amira noticed that the man who she was trying to pickpocket joined a circle around this table where Cara and Carrie sat.

I think I know where this is going.

In that moment, she realised what kind of party this was.

Cara -or was it Carrie?- ripped the top half of her scowl off, revealing a perky set of breasts which made the men in the audience gasp and clap.

Like a monument to voyeurism, the second one, which Amira identified as Carrie, stood upon the table and instead removed the bottom half, bending over in a slow and methodical fashion to expose everyone of a curvy and neat ass and a clean shaven vagina she hid with her hand.

There was something so savage, yet so fashionable about the way those men and women were silently standing in a circle just witnessing how the two started kissing each other and masturbating, clearly overdoing it just for the sake of showmanship.

“Hey,” Paul was suddenly standing right next to her, “This is fine, right? We are all consenting adults, just making sure you are ok.” Amira looked at Paul, then his watch. She had a reason not to leave this party of his straight away.

“So this is the kind of party you mentioned.” She nodded. Cara was riding Carrie’s face, moaning and narrating to the crowd how good it felt. She then joined in the oral sex, sandwiching her head between Carrie’s thights into a perfect sixty-nine.

“Yes.” Paul laughed, “There is plenty for everyone, trust me. Everything goes here, as long as it’s not life-threatening. Every kink, every fetish. The party hasn’t started yet, trust me.”

Amira knew she would have regretted running away from the party, not with all the prized belongings they were bound to take off. If what Paul said is true, then it was only a matter of time before all thirty of the party-goers would leave behind something for her to scoop.

Cara’s whole arm was wrapped around Carrie’s neck in a dominant choke that took her breath away, and with the other hand, she was rubbing her clit a bit too hard for it to be a purely hedonistic choice.

The men around the table dropped their trousers and their pants, shamelessly touching themselves in the public sight of such a show. Cocks of all shapes and sizes, of every colour and even pierced or not appeared around that table. Many were touching themselves only so gently, just in an attempt to get as hard as possible perhaps to show everyone their shaft in its full might.

Others, however, were being helped by partners, let that be both men and women, and a handful were thrusting in the air, daydreaming about the chance of penetrating one of the two beautiful women who were play-fighting on that table.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” Paul told her. She looked down to find the man’s hand stroking himself. Those inches glistened with precum just begging her to be licked away and swallowed. Embarrassed, she looked away and nodded.

There was a cock in particular that stood out among the others: It belonged to the man she tried to rob only a few moments ago.

It was large, approximately ten inches or maybe a bit less, and it was being held in a hand by no other than Jonathan, who seemed lost in the stroking motion and the chance to hold such a strong and virile man in his own hands. Amira realised how good it must have felt to have such a throbbing, vigorous shaft all for you, just to feel the warmth and the strength of it right in her face.