Sin Corridor

The Sacrificial Lamb

"Meera, you are selected this year!" Helen grabs my arm and shakes me to reality while I am still reeling from all that happened.

And I still stand in the middle of the dance floor like a statue. She drags me to the bar and waves her hand frantically in front of me. "Hello! Earth to Meera!"

"Huh, yes," I mumble.

"Where is your head at? You need to know the ritual for entering Sin Corridor."

That gets my attention. "What! There is a ritual as if the whole secrecy thing is not scary enough?"

"Hey, trust me, you would be completely safe and the club people would brief you about the procedures. This is the ritual followed by the members of the party. More like honoring the year's winner."

I take a calming breath and let it out. "Okay. What should I do?"

"A few minutes after the announcement, you will be called upstairs where you will be guided to the room on the far right that says 'Staffs only'. Once you are upstairs you have to throw your panties down to the audience." She instructs.

"Okay, I can do that." I am nodding my head when it completely registers for me "Wait, what!?"

"As I said it's a ritual, it is believed whoever gets to catch the clothing would be the next year's winner." She shrugs.

"Is this a wedding to Satan, for me to fling my panties like it's a bouquet!?" I ask her incredulously. "It's completely unfair, then what would men do? I bet there is no such thing for them." I challenge.

"They throw all of their clothes and stroll in naked. You are always welcome to do that anytime if you want equality." Blondie says with a shit-eating grin, putting one arm around Helen's shoulder.

Again, why is he still here? I groan in frustration.

The announcer speaks into a mic. "Meera, we request you to the balcony."

"Okay go. Have fun Meera" Helen practically shoves me towards the railing.

I move there on shaky legs amidst cheers and catcalls.

The announcer was a bald, burly man in a black suit with red lapels. He bowed and swept a hand for me to stand in the spotlight. Yes, there was a spotlight in the middle of the floor facing below.

"Please do the honors," he says into the mic followed by boisterous cheers and whistles.

As much as I am feeling red hot embarrassment, I can't deny that for some sickening reason it turns me on and I am scared the evidence is gonna be there on my panties. That whoever gonna catch it is going to see how much of a dirty girl I am.

My gaze swept through the crowd but I couldn't see any faces there since was so dark. My heart beats wildly like a drum and I regret wearing a short skirt. Somehow, I know Vikram is somewhere among the crowd, a blend of darkness. Waiting. Watching. Challenging me.

My breath stutters out. If I am going do this, I am damn well going to do it better. There is a certain power women possess over men, making them dance to their tune. Lust. Sex. Confidence. And one thing I am good at, wielding power.

I close my eyes and compose myself, fisting my shaking hands. I open my eyes, playing the role of a plaything, and let go of Meera for the night.

I slowly, seductively move my hands down my sides and lift my skirt exposing my smooth thighs. A hush fell over the crowd and I can feel their hungry eyes on me.

I hooked my fingers at the side of my panties. I bend forward slightly and remove my most intimate clothing inch by inch. The heard a swift intake of breath behind me. The bouncer behind me must have a glorious view of my ass. And I am sure what other parts I have flashed to the crowd below.

The fact that all of them can see and lust over me but can't touch me makes me heady.

I inspect my panties to see the glistening arousal in contrast with my black thong and shudder. No way I can hide this. Before changing my mind, I turn around and throw it over my head to the crowd below and chaos ensues.

I turn back in time to see the scrap of lace flying hand to hand as every person tries to get a hold of it. Suddenly the crowd parts and all the brawling men freeze.

With a face like the finest sculpture and an air of cool dominance, standing in the middle, with his hands stuffed in his pockets is my tormentor, my mystery stranger, my Vikram.

He is not your anything! I chastise myself.

He tilts his head at the men and immediately the piece of clothing is offered to him, almost like he is a god among those mere mortals.

He fingers the lace with ownership like he has a claim over me. The thought infuriates and excites me at the same time.

And then he looks up straight at me, his eyes a piercing shade of obsidian. My breath hitches.

Without taking his eyes off me, he brings my panties close to his face, just when I thought he was going to sniff it – which was hot in itself - he sticks his tongue completely out and licks off my arousal.

Oh god.

The scene he portrayed was so erotic he looked more demon than any human. I clenched my thighs. He gives me a devilish grin among shouts of approval and hollers from the crowd.

Like concluding an event, the announcer says sweeping a hand at me, "Meera, everyone!"

And I stand there shell-shocked and aroused staring at Vikram, who held wicked promises in his gaze.

Then I am escorted to the door at the end of the balcony away from the crowd's view by a bouncer. I follow him unable to do or say anything else, feeling a lot at the moment.

We cross several rooms from where I can hear muffled groans and grunts.

Finally, we reach a door with a sign 'Staff only' and the bouncer opens the door for me to enter and otherwise says nothing, just keeps staring ahead. Alrighty then.

Taking that as a cue, I entered the room and that was not what I expected.