The Recall Trials
Chapter 77: Pleasure After Pain

Chapter 77: Pleasure After Pain

Few Hours Later

I strolled to my locker, already expecting something absurd, and of course...they didn’t disappoint.

Inside was a pair of tight shorts.

Leopard print.

I stared at them for a second, then snorted under my breath. "Of course."

It was stretchy. Low-rise. Clownishly inappropriate... or exactly what they wanted.

I grabbed the shorts, shut the locker, and was about to turn when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Hey," a soft voice said.

I turned halfway.

Then I felt a hand tap my shoulder.

And there she was.

The blondie.

Hair pulled into a neat, high bun. Subtle makeup. But what caught me wasn’t her face....it was the outfit.

A sheer leopard-print lingerie set.. Thin straps clinging to her shoulders. Her cleavage was right there, nipples showing through the mesh. Long smooth legs and that red lipstick.

I didn’t mean to stare.

But I did.

She smiled slowly, like she was used to it. "Vincent."

She adjusted the ridiculous looking leopard-print ears on her head.

"Could you help me tie the back?" she asked, turning around and lifting her hair off her neck.

I blinked. "Wait. Do I even know you?"

"You don’t remember me, do you?"

I stared at her, unfazed. "No."

She laughed. "I’m Nomi. I was your first friend here. You know... before they fried your brain."

"Please," she added with a pout, glancing over her shoulder. "Just tie it."

She turned again before I could answer, lifting her hair. Her spine was bare. I could see the curve of her lower back and the way the lingerie dipped just above her ass.

I hesitated. Then exhaled. "Sure."

I stepped forward and took the straps.

I tied the knot....tight.

And that’s when it happened.

The room changed.

No, not the room....me.

I glanced up.

Zaara had just walked in.

She wasn’t looking at anyone. Just walked straight toward her locker.

She was wearing black.

Not just black.

A black Lingerie. Thin straps, like you could see through it without trying. Every detail. Every line of her body. The way it hugged her waist, dipped over her hips. Her thighs. Her skin.

I froze.

I didn’t breathe.

My chest pulled tight, like something inside of me was straining. Not breaking... but pulling. Tugging at something I forgot I had.

What the hell is this?

She bent slightly to adjust her heel and her hair fell over her shoulder. Then she stood up and looked in my direction.

Our eyes met.

That’s when I felt it.

A jolt.

Not like adrenaline. Not like panic.

Something else. Something worse.

Something real.

I took a step back, still tying Nomi’s lingerie strap.

Nomi said. "Your girlfriend’s not happy."

"She’s not my girlfriend," I muttered.

Zaara looked away, back to her locker, like nothing had happened.

I turned away.

Fast.

Back to Nomi.

My fingers were still gripping the edge of her strap, like I’d forgotten I tied it already. My jaw tightened.

But my mind was still back there....on the shape of Zaara’s silhouette through that black lace. On the way her eyes met mine and I felt... something.

God. What the hell was that?

She walked by again, this time closer, with her red lipstick, and some kind of glitter on her collarbone.

I looked straight ahead.

Don’t. Look.

She passed me.

I looked.

Her back. The way the fabric hugged her curves. The transparent lace on her hips. The slow sway of her steps.

Suddenly, the high-pitched buzz returned in my head...

I staggered just slightly.

"Whoa," Nomi said, steadying me. "Hey. Vincent?"

I blinked fast. Shook it off. "I’m fine."

"You sure about that?" Her tone turned flirty. "Because it kinda looked like you glitched for a sec."

I glared at her. "Back off."

She raised her hands playfully. "Relax."

But I couldn’t relax.

My chest hurt.

Not physically. Not from a game or an injury.

Emotionally.

It was warm. It was tight..

Zaara had stopped across the room to speak with Jojo. She was laughing at something. A soft kind of laugh. Her fingers brushing the edge of her hip like she was trying to adjust the fabric that clung to her too perfectly.

The loudspeaker buzzed to life again.

"Attention contestants...

The party has officially begun.

All players are invited to the main lounge.

Private rooms are first come, first served.

And remember...

It’s a long night."

Click.

Then the door slid open, steam pouring in like it was the gates to some twisted nightclub.

And one by one...they started to walk out.

All of them.

In leopard-print outfits.

Every. Single. One.

The room looked like a wild jungle-themed fever dream. Lingerie. Fishnets. Bare chests. Faux fur. Neon leopard ears on heads , Cleavage, thighs, oil-slicked skin.

And then...

The music hit.

The lights in the hallway flickered, blue, then red, then pulsing gold like flames.

I stepped out with the rest of them.

My eyes adjusted to the glow.

The main lounge was transformed.

Long tables were stacked with glittering bottles...vodka, rum, something glowing and blue. Fruit trays. Chocolate fountains. Finger food that looked too good to be real.

And at the far end of the room, a row of ten private doors...each with a glowing red "vacant" sign overhead. Just waiting to be claimed.

Bodies were already moving to the beat.

Some grinding.

Some swaying.

Some drinking like it was the last night on Earth.

And maybe it was.

Theo stumbled past with a drink in one hand and a wild grin on his face. "I feel like I’ve been kissed by a fever dream and slapped by sin," he said.

Cleo was twirling. "Y’all see my tail?" she shouted. "Because I’m about to wag it!"

Laughter echoed. Like the drug in their systems was just starting to take hold.

One girl giggled as she licked something from a guy’s neck. Another pair were already making out in the corner, her hands in his hair, his on her thighs.

The aphrodisiac was working.

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