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Abby was led across the Big Tits ballroom and through a pair of wooden doors that led into a darkened room of velvet and silk. Strange music played from somewhere and nowhere and the light was artificial and dark and intense. “Once a year,” he explained to her as he led her through into the first room, “a selection of the richest and most powerful people in existence meet for a night of lurid extravagance—there is no limit on what can occur behind the stone walls of this secret society. Anything goes. The parties are never held in the same place and the guest list is absolute. A committee outside the circle put it together and model no one person knows the complete list. There are rules—rules that must be abided by at all costs. Anonymity is key. Faces are never revealed and names are never disclosed. It is the most secretive of events in every sense of the word.” Her eyes struggled to adjust british to the new light of this room. Men in dark livery and plain grey masks stood by a series of doors that pussy led deeper into this place. This was not pussy licking the party Abby had envisioned when she found the card in the stolen wallet. The Libertine continued. “The wealth and status in this room—there is enough collective power and influence to start a revolution, send a country to war, establish a New World Order, see Marx’s vision truly realised—or just engage in wild, gratuitous debauchery.” The Libertine picked a door and the waiter nodded and opened it and they slipped inside. He told her that everyone from Presidents and World Leaders to Princes and Princesses; film stars and bankers to sports stars and socialites; investors and industrialists and celebrities came here once a year to indulge in their most evil and twisted fantasy. “Supreme Court Judges,” he said. “Congressmen. Senators. Lords and Ladies. Cabinet members. “It's mine now. Occasionally, Samantha would sigh contentedly and wiggle her perfect ass against him. Her focus pared down from some spot on the horizon and zeroed-in on the fingers sinking into her jumpsuit to heft one of her monster mammaries Jane’s Big Tits eye’s twinkled with excitement. She shrugged. I’ll concede your mother pussy licking taught you to be a gentleman, and you have nice manners, and can british be charming, and that doesn’t change a pussy thing.” Hell, I modeled myself after some of the most successful people in the tech world. She eases her way back up until just the tip is in her mouth, then starts swirling har tongue all over my shaft. “All done boss, model time to go home and play?” she asks with a twinkle in her eyes. “Sick? And then he appeared behind me, grabbing my shoulders. She seemed to be enjoying it as she was pulling on my ass, almost asking me to go harder and deeper. “Okay, what was the date that Napoleon Bonaparte was born?” The steamy high school shower, the four big black teens, Vic and me. Actors on a stage.