NOVEL NEXT vol. 5 chapter 22 - Club (6)
Then, the masked men burst into laughter.
Jamie stood there, paralyzed, clutching the doorknob. I shuddered, sympathizing with how bizarre and terrifying this scene must have been for him. The sight of the white-masked gentlemen all standing in front of him, suddenly bursting into breathless laughter, was no ordinary encounter. Jamie froze, overwhelmed by the salon's bizarre appearance. His startled expression gradually shifted to fear.
Even I could clearly see Jamie, who had been gripped by fear, suddenly snapping back to his senses. This meant the white-masked men were equally as visibly aware. As soon as Jamie turned and fled down the hallway, the white-masked men swarmed him like bees. From across the hallway, Jamie could be heard crying out.
A harsh, piercing scream rang out. The screams that had reverberated through the hallway and reverberated into the salon finally drew closer. Jamie, who had run to the other end of the hallway, was dragged into the salon… into the
Only when I finally made it to the front, pushed by the crowd, did I catch a glimpse of Jamie. His screams continued, shaking the salon.
The men in white masks grabbed Jamie by the ankles and dragged him across the carpet. Jamie struggled desperately, trying to grasp the carpet with his fingertips, but it was no use. His suit jacket was pushed up, and the shirt he'd neatly tucked into his trousers was pulled out. His carefully groomed hair was a mess. Terrified, Jamie cried and pleaded.
His heart pounded wildly. His legs shook as if they were about to give out. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to thrust them into his pockets. It was fortunate his mask concealed his face.
therwise, they would have seen his lost composure. The men who had been dragging Jamie approached the crowd. Jamie, dragged face down, struggled to grab their ankles. People backed away, taunting him, or even stomping their feet on the ground, trying to step on his hands. Some even kicked him in the face. The room was filled with madness, the tumultuous sound of laughter and shouting keeping me from regaining my composure. Jamie was being trampled by the crowd, drawing closer and closer to me. I tried to push past them, but everyone else was hell-bent on trampling on Jamie's hand, making it impossible to escape. Jamie finally made it to my doorstep. I quickly tried to dodge, but Jamie grabbed my ankle. His face, streaked with tears and blood, cried out, "Help! Please, help! Please! Please!"
I had to step on his hand like any other gentleman would. I had to shove his hand away or kick him mercilessly in the face. I had to spit into his tearful face and jeer. But I couldn't. I couldn't. I didn't dare.
I stood frozen like a statue, staring down at Jamie. The crowd, which had been raucously laughing, whistling, and cursing, gradually quieted. I was met with the same scene as when Jamie first entered the salon. The white-masked gentlemen stopped what they were doing and stared intently at me. Jamie, sobbing beneath my feet, clung desperately to my leg. The men dragging Jamie also stopped and turned their white-masked faces toward me. I needed to kick him now. I needed to crush Jamie's face more brutally than anyone else.
I couldn't.
Someone broke the silence.
A cheerful, lively voice. It was Hugh's. Even though I knew it was Timothy, I couldn't help but think of Hugh, and a chill ran down my spine. A cheerful voice from beyond the crowd slowly parted the crowd. A gentleman wearing a white mask slowly squeezed through the crowd on either side. Even with the mask pulled down, I couldn't help but notice it was Timothy.
The crowd remained silent, forming a circle around me, Timothy, and Jamie. I gasped for breath under the pressure and looked at Timothy. As soon as his ankles were freed, Jamie crawled toward me, hugging his legs with both arms and sobbing. I was his only lifeline. Timothy tilted his head and looked straight at me.
Timothy said slowly.
<… … .>
I lowered my head and looked down at Jamie. Could I get away with him? It was impossible.
I stared at Timothy in silence. I met his deep blue eyes behind the mask. We stared at each other.
Without warning, the men standing behind me suddenly lunged at me. The sudden attack caught me helplessly, my arms pinned down, unable to move. From Jamie's actions just moments ago, I knew that struggling was futile. As I stood still, Timothy sidled up close. He untied the bow tie that had been neatly tied around my neck, tossing it to the floor. He then violently grabbed my shirt with both hands and tore it apart. The slightly loose shirt Christine had given me was ripped apart in an instant. Knowing what I was wearing underneath, I desperately tried to twist my body, but the men behind me grabbed my arms and pulled me to my limit, leaving me unable to move.
Beyond the torn shirt, a pale pink bra with ornate lace was revealed. Without breasts to fill the cups, the bra was loosely wrapped around my bare chest. Silence fell. Timothy slid his hand under her bra, gently tugged on the strap, and then released it. The strap snapped against her chest.
“Oh, there must have been a surprise event I didn’t know about?”
Timothy’s eyes behind the mask widened with a gentle smile.
“Don’t be afraid, tell me. Who gave you that mask?”
She didn’t answer.
The price was quickly paid. Timothy suddenly reached out and violently grabbed the mask, ripping it off. The mask, which had been suffocating her face, fell off in an instant, crumpling badly in Timothy’s grip. Timothy grinned.
“So you’re not scared, you’re just being rude.”
<… … .>
The men's hands clung to me indiscriminately. Countless hands pressed down on my limbs, thrusting their hands inside my bra and carelessly kneading my firm, muscled breasts.
They pinched me. I wanted to twist my body in pain, but I couldn't. More than shame, fear was overwhelming. So many… I'd never imagined it. So many hands groping my body… so many. Burning hands crawled recklessly over me like insects, kneading, pinching, and scratching. It was nauseating. I saw countless masks staring down at me, pressed against the carpet. There were too many. Between the white masks, eyes glowed with a blazing blue light, twisted with lust.
Fingers reached into my mouth, where I was muttering weak words of resistance. My mouth was stretched wide as many fingers pushed open recklessly. Each finger, stirring and squirting inside my mouth, came from a different hand. They twisted my nose, pulled my hair, and even pushed their fingers into my ears. No matter how hard I tried to struggle, there were so many hands restraining me that I couldn't escape. There were so many that I couldn't even feel where and how they were touching me. They pulled at my nipples, pressed painfully with their nails, and even rubbed my breasts with my bra. My shirt and suit jacket were torn to shreds by countless hands. Hands that had initially groped my legs over my pants finally began to peel off my shoes, socks, and pants. No, not peeling, but rather tearing them apart. The hands yanked at my pants indiscriminately, then tore them to shreds and threw them away. The men in white masks burst into laughter at my naked lower body.
Someone tugged at the strings of my panties, then let them go, laughing. A giggle followed, followed by a voice that spoke affectionately, as if to say, "You're wearing a matching bra?" Who are you wearing so pretty to show off to?
As soon as a rough, hoarse voice spoke, countless hands latched onto her, spreading her legs wide apart.
They didn't take off her panties, but pulled them aside and pulled out her genitals. They played with them as they pleased, pulling her testicles until they hurt. She twisted her body wildly, but it was still no use. She couldn't even make a sound. Her mouth was full of fingers, making her retch, and the corners of her mouth were torn, but no one removed their fingers.
Screams began to come from nearby again. They kept getting closer and closer. It had to be Jamie. They were dragging him around the salon again. She felt dizzy. The expressions of the masked men were unreadable. Her vision faded away. Only hands, countless hands, held her whole being. Fear crushed her lungs. She gasped, whipping her head around, and tears welled up in her eyes. Hands clung between my spread legs and began carelessly poking my hole. Cold, sticky gel was sprayed recklessly, drenching my lower body. I'm being gang-raped. They'll rape me, beat me to submission, and do whatever they want. Again. Like this, up to here, again... Then, the fingers that had been poking and prying my hole apart suddenly withdrew.
I looked at the men with fearful eyes. They abruptly lifted me up and dragged me across the carpet. When I was thrown, Jamie lay collapsed before me. His once neat face was covered in blood, and his clothes were tattered, sobbing.
A masked man approached us and said,
"Why don't you have fun together?"
The unfamiliar man's voice was sweet.
"It doesn't matter which of you is poking me. I'll let you go.>
Suddenly, when I raised my head, the men stood in a circle around us, their white masks shining brightly. Their fronts were bulging tautly. I felt like I was going to vomit.
Jamie was beside himself. He didn't seem to understand what the man was saying. On the other hand, I felt a sudden awakening the moment I heard the man's words. I couldn't tell whether the sensation that was taking over my body was fear or shame. My limbs trembled, and I turned to the men in white masks. I tried to suppress the tremors, but my mouth was still numb. The men were chaotic. They were talking among themselves, and occasionally bursting into laughter, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I gazed blankly at the masked men, then stopped at one spot.
The man in the ornate white mask was wearing a familiar black evening dress. I knew who he was. We stared at each other for a moment. Christopher turned and disappeared into the crowd.
I turned my head at the sound of sobbing, as if I was choking. Jamie had collapsed, crying. I looked blankly at Jamie and the people surrounding us again.
If this was the Club. If Christopher had been through all this, if only he could understand the Club, then it should have been me who stayed. Not Jamie. If someone had to be raped, it should have been me. I deserved it. I was beyond depravity, a promiscuous and vulgar being who found pleasure in gang rape, so if I had to be thrown into the filth, I would have thrown myself into it.
I walked over to Jamie and climbed on top of him. The men whistled and jeered. Jamie looked up at me, weeping, terrified. He shook his head. Looking at his pleading face, I unzipped Jamie's pants. He felt disrespected, dragged around and beaten by the men. A foul smell rose from his body, but I held it in and sucked Jamie's penis.
Jamie burst into tears in fear. The men laughed and taunted us. Jamie couldn't get an erection. No matter how hard I sucked, he just cried like a child and writhed helplessly in fear. I pulled down his panties and rubbed my butt against his penis, trying to get it up, but it was no use. I had to get his penis inside. Only then could Jamie escape. But Jamie just kept pushing me away, demanding that I stop. I was just going to rape him.
Suddenly, I was grabbed by the back of my head and dragged backward. The men threw me off Jamie and threw me to the floor.
The men spoke cheerfully. I clung to him.
The man taunted. He grabbed his pants and slung them.
The man crouched down in front of me, our eyes locked. I was speechless. I just stared at him blankly. Unable to respond, the man stood up. Behind him, Jamie was once again surrounded by white masks. Someone grabbed Jamie by the hair and twirled him around. Jamie flailed his arms and followed the man, crawling on his knees. But there were only a few of them, and countless masked men were staring at me, waiting for my answer. I looked up at the man as meekly and stupidly as I could.
I stood on my knees, rubbed my cheek against his front, and looked up at his white masked face.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he stroked my cheek against the front of his pants. He spoke gently, stroking my hair and forehead. There was a hint of laughter in his voice. I could feel his erection against my cheek.
I answered, tilting my head back and trying to meet his eyes. I heard Jamie scream at the top of his lungs.
"But why do we have to do what you like?"
The man, who had taken a step back, suddenly lifted his foot and kicked me hard in the chest. My breath caught in my throat. The moment I fell backward, white masks rushed at me. They laughed and pulled me up. They grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the roulette table. The men pinned me down on the table, grabbing my hair and forcing me to raise my head. Behind me, the men spoke.
"So you don't want her to be treated like this?"
One man asked, gagging me. I shook my head violently, my mouth open, drool dripping. The masks behind me laughed. Their laughter tickled my ears.
"Because of you, she's going to be gang-raped. All night long."
Someone leaned in from behind. The man pressed against my back whispered. "He'll pay for your pointless talk. Do you understand? Because of you."
I sobbed through the gag. I twisted, but it was no use. Too many hands were holding me down. They seemed to enjoy watching me flail like a madman. They seemed to enjoy watching my crying face and listening to my pleas. Masked people watched Jamie and me, pointing and laughing. They spat, poured drinks, and smashed my face with their hands, filming it all with their phones.
Jamie, dragged through the crowd, finally stopped in front of the roulette table. He was now so weak that he could only tremble and cry. The carpet was stained with Jamie's blood. The men ripped off his clothes and pulled his buttocks apart. I couldn't look. I didn't want to. My hair was grabbed, so I couldn't turn my head. When I closed my eyes, a gentle voice came into my ear. "If you don't open your eyes, I'll ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) tear your asshole open so you can never control your shit or piss."
I opened my eyes, trembling with fear. Masked men were pouring alcohol on Jamie. They spread her legs and stomped on her legs. Stripped naked, Jamie's eyes rolled back, her body flailing wildly, as if she'd lost her mind. I had to watch the men gang-rape her. If I closed my eyes even for a moment, someone would twist her nose and pull her cheeks, forcing her to open them. Jamie eventually passed out. Then, he was abandoned like a puppet with its strings cut.
The men turned their masked faces toward me. Their hands tore my bra. The genitals of the strangers violated my lower body. Over and over. When I tried to crawl away, they let me. They'd let me crawl a little, then grab my ankles and drag me back, raping me. The men played with me like a toy. They'd poke my backside relentlessly, then suddenly lose interest and let me run toward the wall. I'd hide behind the curtains, shivering, and they'd stand there, casually drinking and chatting. Then, like madmen, they'd rip the curtains open, drag me out, and gang-rape me around the room. They'd film the whole thing with their phones, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.
As time passed, the people gradually became indifferent to us, and at one point, no one bothered us at all. The men would go to other rooms, sit at the bar, drink, or lounge on the sofa. Jamie and I were left under the roulette table. Jamie hadn't come to. I lay on my side next to him, unconscious and corpse-like. I watched as black shoes drew near in the distance. They drew closer and stopped in front of me. A man in a white mask crouched down in front of me.
The man brushed his hair, messily stained with semen. "You're foolish, Raymond."
I stared into the green eyes behind my mask, and finally lost consciousness.
***
Whether it was a dream or reality, I could hear the rain the whole time. The sound was so clear, like raindrops falling right next to my ears, that even in my sleep, I thought there must be a glass window next to my bed. I slept the whole night. All I could see was darkness. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed, just a fever that made me gasp for breath. As my groans grew louder, a cold hand would suddenly touch my sweat-covered forehead. As I surrendered my face to the hand that stroked my feverish cheek and wiped the sweat from my forehead, a pair of eyes would appear in the darkness. Like the eyes of a crocodile emerging from a swamp, a pair of reptilian, gleaming eyes I'd encountered in the land of Kelly and the forest of Laburnham.
"Sleep a little longer."
Those eyes spoke in an unfamiliar voice I didn't recognize. "It's been a long day."
A cold hand covered my eyelids. The sound of rain in my ears grew distant.