Sophia’s loft was a small room in the southern district. It was a bit cramped, but affordable for the block. It offered her a large window next to a twin sized bed, along with a reading nook built into the windowsill frame. A book lay on a small padded pillow tucked in the corner of the window, it was the latest entry of ‘Hard Dreams’, and the morning light reflected off its glossy cover. The walls were painted a creamy white hue, and the floors were cold grey tile. A tiny sink and microwave was her only kitchen, while a small powder room offered a single shower stall and toilet. However, despite the cramped confines, Sophia managed to smuggle in a small porcelain tub which took up the rest of the tiny bathroom. It was her pride and joy.

      One day she hoped to have enough saved to acquire a penthouse on one of the higher floors, but until then she made do. It was better than the alternative, having to live at home with her sisters. The memories of sharing bathrooms with Alessandra, Tinti, and Niliah still gave her nightmares. Nadalah was the only sibling she got along with, not including her brothers who saw her as a sheltered sis. 

      The walls were decorated by numerous posters. One of a Brunsten pattern semi-automatic handgun was pinned just above her bed post. The grooves of its barrel, the walnut grips, and the exposed rail configuration was glorious. If stories were her first passion, guns were her second. One day she would save up enough to obtain a custom Brunsten, and would treasure it dearly. She even had altered some of her jackets and outfits to carry the weapon concealed. 

      The laws of Nova Nash permitted, even encouraged, all women to own a gun. It drastically reduced crimes against them. As for men, only active servicemen were permitted to carry outside of their property. 

      Another series of posters of her favorite pop stars and video game characters were arranged around her large TV. A final piece of custom artwork, a re-creation of an older painting of a wheat field in the days before the long night, was displayed on the wall opposite of the window. 

      Outside she could see the streets were packed with traffic, and the sidewalks were filled with those trying to walk to work. The River Emerald could be seen through the gaps in the city landscape. There weren’t many skyscrapers in this particular section of the Southern District, but there was enough tall buildings to interrupt the view. Looking across at the nearest building, Sophia could see many of the windows were open, the occupants enjoying the warm spring weather. She hesitated on doing the same. While closed, the window reflected the sunlight, allowing her a sense of privacy. If open, there was no telling who would catch a glimpse of her nakedness when she enjoyed her loft alone.

      A tiny closet was filled to the brim with dairy uniforms, along with other articles of clothing. Sophia owned more clothes than she had room for, which wasn’t difficult given the size of the closet, causing her to leave several shirts laying on the floor. Her drawer cabinet was overflowing with socks and undergarments, and clothes hangers dangled on the door knobs. 

      Her loft was a mess, and Sophia hadn’t the energy to pick up after herself. She wasn’t even sure how to clean it at this point, not without giving away some of her clothes to make room. That or the stacks of books that piled along the corners. Without a decent bookshelf, Sophia kept them arranged in several towers nearby the window. A thin layer of dust collected over the binders, a reminder that she needed a better place to store them.  

      Layers of books were stacked on top of one another in a disorganized collection. The trilogy of ‘Dreams of Fire’ were stacked over the giant tomes of ‘Dirty Sheets’, and underneath that sat an untouched novel she had yet to read named ‘Have Number, Will Call’. Those were just some of the stories she hoarded, her smut collection was stacked alongside a sack of dirty towels. ‘Love and Leather’, and ‘A Touch of Cinnamon’ was her favorite. 

      Although far from glamorous, the loft offered Sophia a measure of peace and quiet. It was her private cocoon from the world, a tiny sanctuary from the drama of her family. 

      As the suns rays brushed against her eyelids, Sophia moaned a sigh of groveling pain. Her breasts were sore, and her limbs felt like numb noodles after laying in an awkward position for so long. She rolled over onto her side, and realized she was naked underneath the covers. Normally she preferred to wear a bra when she slept, without it her soft mounds were free to weigh her down or flop around with each twist and turn.

      Brushing her blankets aside, Sophia recoiled from the cool air and snuggled farther underneath the sheets. Her head throbbed, and her memories of the previous night were fuzzy. The last thing she could remember…was seeing her mother on the damn stripper pole.

      “What happened last night?” She groaned to herself. Her throat was parched, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. Reluctantly, she leaned up while clinging to the sheets. Once she was upright, she observed her surroundings. She was alone, which meant she hadn’t dragged anyone home with her. It was a good sign.

      Slowly Sophia summoned the energy to scrounge for a nightgown, and then strolled over to the sink. Looking into the mirror, she saw that her makeup was smudged. The lipgloss, eyeliner, and blush had smeared to make her look monstrous. Disgusted with herself, Sophia cleaned up her face, and then quickly took a hot shower before searching for her phone. 

      The relief of the hot water reminded her of the club from last night. The tension of so many wet bodies pressed up against one another, the smell of cologne and perfume intermingling in a confusing malaise. Sophia resisted the urge to pleasure herself as she stood underneath the curtain of water while thinking about it, her migraine was pounding like a drum.

      She only had dirty towels left near the sink, and swore to remind herself to take another load to the wash on the ground floor. It took a while to pad herself down, but once dry Sophia put on her nightgown and searched for her phone.

      The search had her emptying her purse, fumbling over each article of clothing left around the bed, and desperately hunting through the small room. Somehow it ended up under her bedsheets, near the very base of her mattress. It was dead, and a new crack could be seen on the lip of the right corner of the touch screen. 

      “Why do I get the feeling, I’m going to regret charging you up?” She spoke to the phone with a tinge of spite. Her phone merely reflected her wet face off its dull screen. Once plugged in, it would take a few minutes for it to acquire a strong enough charge to re-activate. Sophia found the charge cord next to the bed, dangling over one of the book covers. She pinched the tip of the coil, muttered a prayer, and inserted it into the base of the phone. A small winking red light responded, and Sophia sat the phone down on the book cover anxiously. 

      Knowing it would take time to charge, Sophia returned to the bathroom so that she could blow dry her hair. She wasn’t happy with the amount of confetti she kept finding buried in her golden locks. The hot shower washed most of them away, yet she still found stubborn reminders of a mysterious sequence of events that happened overnight. 

      There were other clues of last nights festivities, the ones that had escaped her memory. A bruise on her left thigh, a pit in her stomach, and a pain in her right leg were merely some of them. Sophia supposed it could’ve been much worse, she did a careful examination of her body and found no tattoos or piercings. That was some good news, at least.

      Half an hour passed, and while her phone was now pinging with life, she had no urge to check on it. She wanted to enjoy blissful ignorance for at least a few minutes. She warmed up a low-carb bagel, spread a thin layer of cream cheese, and plopped on her bed to watch the TV. The only thing worth watching was a cheesy soap opera, but those were Sophia’s favorites. 

      Only when she felt moderately refreshed, and had something in her stomach, did she dare look at her phone. There were dozens of text messages, mostly from Chloe, although there were a few from her mother. Most of the messages were old, but skimmed through them quickly. Once her profile registered as online, Chloe was quick to send you a brand new message. 

 

Chloe -> I want your boobs

Sophia <- Trust me, you don’t! 

Chloe -> What happened last night! I can’t feel my legs…

Sophia <- I keep finding confetti in my hair.

Chloe -> I think part of me died last night.

 

      Her responses back and forth with Chloe only compounded her concern. Sophia continued to find older messages from during the party, ones that were barely coherent, or absolute nonsense. The messages between her and her mother were somehow less comforting. 

 

Mother Goose -> SOPHIA! Darling, I can’t believe you were at the Rhythm Garden!

Mother Goose -> Only the most influential, or inherently beautiful, get inside.

Mother Goose -> I’m not sure if you saw me, but I had a private showing there!

Mother Goose -> Momma paid the bills all night lol

Mother Goose -> I also saw that you had fun in the back room ;)

Mother Goose -> I’m so proud that you’re finally getting out of the comfort zone! 

Mother Goose -> Just remember, you got the goods from me ;)

 

      “Well that’s disconcerting,” Sophia rubbed her forehead. “What the hell did she mean by back room?” She felt the urge to message Chloe about it, and it took less than a few seconds to get a response. Upon further investigation, they found a collection of video’s for premium content users on the Rhythm Gardens website. One of them featured herself! 

      With a shaking finger Sophia clicked on the payment icon to see the video, and was surprised to see herself heavily drunk, and standing next to what looked like a mechanized contraption. A pristine leather chair was anchored to the floor, bearing straps for ones ankles and wrists. At the base of the machine was a fairly large dildo, the bottom of which was fed by a plastic tube. 

      In the video, Sophia was hopping up and down with excitement. She sported the peace sign directly toward the camera while stripping out of her damp clothes. Everything slipped from her olive skin, exposing dark purple nipples and buoyant flesh decorated with a tapestry of blue veins. 

      “No you idiot! What are you doing?” Sophia criticized herself while watched her past self sit on the machine, and then spread her legs overhead. Chloe was there, eagerly helping to restrain her limbs with the same drunken stupor over her eyes. Several men were in attendance, jerking off in a large chalice that fed the plastic tube leading to the dildo.

      There was a mechanical squeezing sound that followed the shifting of its gears. Music could be heard in the background, the same distorted beat echoing from the dance floor. It must have been pulsing through the walls. As Sophia watched in silence, she could remember the subtle smell of sweat and lubricant.

      The chair began to move. Forward, then back, and on and on it went. At first glance, the machine seemed more a torture device than for pleasure. Yet Sophia’s expression, as her loins were brought to the rather thick dildo, was one of pure joy and elation. 

      The chair moved forward so that the phallus was positioned at the base of her slit, and then allowed to thrust into her fertile cove. Her limber legs remained lifted, so that her feet were pressed against her ears. Normally such stretching should’ve be agonizing, even with her flexibility, but judging by her smile Sophia barely noticed it.

      The dildo was vibrating, both twisting while reaching farther into her sobbing depths. The way it explored her gushing folds was a turn on. While watching the video, Sophia subconsciously moved her hand between her legs. In the video she cried out in sudden pleasure, yet just before she could reach climax the mechanical chair pulled her away.

      “Oh my god, let me come! Let me come!” Sophia’s slurred voiced protested with anger. It was like watching a drooling fanatic, Sophia barely recognized herself.

      In the video Chloe seemed to get off watching her squirm. Apparently she was next in line, with another tall woman just behind her. Judging by the number of video’s available on the site, there must’ve been at least a dozen waiting their turn.

      “Let me come already!” Sophia grew mad. Her nipples were swollen and starting to leak thin trickles of milk. It pooled down the center of her cleavage, then strolled along the lining of her stomach.

      “Fine, fine just cool your jets,” a man’s voice rang crisp and clear from behind the camera. Sophia didn’t recognize the voice, she could hardly remember anyone’s face.

      As the sex machine pinned her swollen loins against the vibrating phallus a second time, the chair kept her in place just long enough so that Sophia’s sex-starved body could ride out the storm to a successful orgasm. 

      Watching the entire scene play out on the phone screen, Sophia’s hands were shaking. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

      “You squirt way too much,” The man laughed as Sophia’s ravished form shook uncontrollably on the chair. The thin plastic tube feeding the dildo was now filling the instrument, and likely herself, with a thick white substance. The camera panned away for a split second, showing the half empty chalice where men had been ejaculating into.

      “There she blows, any more and you’ll short circuit the machine.” This time it was a different voice that cheered her on. Sophia watched closely as a thick creamy substance began to spurt down the length of the dildo as it finished its final twisting thrusts.

      When Sophia was helped from the chair, a huge spurt of semen drooled form her nether regions, and Chloe was quick to jump on the seat before the supervisors could clean it up.  

      She didn’t continue watching, Sophia exited the video and found herself rushing to the bathroom cabinet in search for her birth control. She found he box containing the pills, and counted down the numbered tabs to make sure she took it the previous afternoon. It was hard to remember taking it every day, and she sometimes was carless about it. When Sophia found the empty packet for yesterday, she breathed a sigh of relief. 

      “Thank god,” Sophia placed the birth control back in the cabinet. 

      Thanks to modern medicine, STD’s were largely wiped out. The invention of advanced anti-biotics and blood curatives had made sure of it. Something about Sophia’s physiology also gave her a strengthened fortitude, her mother claimed it was due to her unique blood line. Whatever that meant. Just to be safe, Sophia took an anti-biotic, and downed it with a full glass of water. She then took a second, much longer, shower. It was an hour later that she returned to her phone to message Chloe.

 

Chloe -> Wow!

Sophia <- Did they spike our drinks?

Chloe -> What? No way! I just found a huge wad of cash in my purse! They paid us!

Sophia <- WTF, I didn’t get anything.

Chloe -> Check again, there’s also a card.

 

      Sophia emptied the contents of her purse on the bed sheets. She found no money to speak of, but she did uncover a laminated business card. On the surface was an RI logo, complete with gold letters and a number to call. 

      She recognized a sorority emblem and seal when she saw one.

Sophia <- You, me, meetup now!

Chloe -> Tired, thirsty. Maybe later?

Sophia <- NOW!