Lydia sipped her drink and looked at Holly over it. "You can go–I mean, we've got the money for it..."
Holly laughed and touched Lydia's arm with her fingertips. "And leave my best girl here alone? No, thanks. You just want to sit here for a while. I'm fine with that."
Lydia looked gratefully over at Holly, and took another sip. She was quite intimidated, and was thankful that Holly didn't insist on being her bubbly self and running all over like she usually did. Turning to watch the nearest stage, though, Lydia did have to admit that the performers were unusually attractive. Watching the man's muscles bulge as he writhed around on the stage, watching the woman's form twist into new shapes, she felt a heat begin to build, deep in her groin. She also felt a bit lightheaded...
"...you all right?!" Holly's voice seemed to come from a long way away. Lydia groggily pulled herself out of her stupor. "You don't seem too hot. Well, you do, it's just that–"
"'S mydrink," Lydia slurred, then began to force her mouth muscles to overcompensate. "I think there was something in my drink. I feel hot."
Holly brought the cocktail glass up to her nose and sniffed. "I think it's wormsroot. It's an... oh gods, we've got to get you out of here."
Lydia giggled and hiccuped groggily. "You look nice tonight, Holly."
Holly got up and got under Lydia's arm, as the band struck up a faster, louder tune. She half-lifted, half-guided Lydia away from the table. "It won't hurt you physically, it'll just get you really horny and lower your inhibitions, which is NOT what needs to happen when you're about to take control of the House. Oh, gods, where is the exit?"
As Holly guided Lydia, they bumped into quite a few people. In a small corner of her mind, Lydia felt ashamed of being so excited by feeling the fleeting contact of a soft breast, a bare muscular chest, a tight pair of buttocks, but it felt so good. She barely registered being led into a cold storeroom by Lydia and propped up against a crate, out of sight of anyone entering the room. The coldness of the room worked to take a bit of the edge off of her heat, but she still couldn't get the image of those dancers out of her mind.
Holly nodded, speaking half to herself. "Right. I'll try to find that potioneer, see if I can get you an antidote. The club wouldn't have spiked your drink–too classy for that–but maybe the potioneer was in on it? Better to just look for an exit. I'll be back, Lydia." Holly rushes out, giving Lydia, from her low viewpoint, a nice view of the thong she's wearing under the black minidress, and most of her pale buttocks.
Almost immediately, the heat comes back, and Lydia begins to remember flashes of sensation. The dancers, the people she bumped into, Holly–what would Holly feel like? They'd always been so close, but nothing ever happened... Lydia realized, with a bit of a start, that she was rubbing herself through her panties, and that it was relieving a bit of the pressure. With a moan, she worked a few fingers past the cloth and dug them into her wet, muscular slit. Lydia sat there, massaging herself, for a few minutes, until she heard footsteps approaching. |