The Circle is a hotspot in the city for just about everything “nightclub”. Ever since its covert opening a few months ago, Charlotte hasn’t heard an end from her coworkers about just how exciting it was to party there.

Well, Charlotte didn’t exactly find this place exciting so much as she found it ridiculous. Even just sitting here sipping her drink, she’s seen about a dozen junkies or so stumble by, and there was no end to wave of drunken people who couldn’t tell up from down.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so jealous!” her colleague and friend’s voice came through her phone. “I can’t believe you’re actually at The Circle! How could you not invite me?!”

Charlotte chuckled at her friend’s teasingly outraged tone. “You’re not missing much, Amy. I’m probably the only sober one here besides the bartender.”

”You have to take me next time, okay? Don’t leave me hanging!”

Charlotte sighed as her friend giggled and hung up the phone. It wasn’t that Charlotte had planned not to invite Amy, but she’d sort of just gone to the club on a whim. It wasn’t like she had a husband or kids waiting for her at home. She was a busy working woman, and proudly so at that. She’d just wanted a chance to unwind.

”Well, look at you.”

Charlotte lifted her head out of her thoughts to see an expected sight, though also a bit unexpected. Of course, it was a man with a colorful drink, no doubt trying to coerce her. But at the same time, this man didn’t look like the typical drug addict or blackout drunk mess that she’d been seeing around the club all night. This man, with his smooth black hair, his dark eyes, and his many rings, stood out among the usual clientele.

”What brings you to The Circle?” he asked, not even bothering to ask before taking a seat next to Charlotte on the couch. “It’s not everyday that I see a woman like yourself show up here.”

Was he being condescending? Charlotte could swear that he caught of dark amusement in his demeanor, as if he didn’t think her capable. Somewhat indignant, Charlotte brushed back her brunette locks and answered him matter-of-fact.

”A woman like myself, with a bachelor’s degree in accounting? I bet you haven’t.”

That earned a chuckle from the man, despite what Charlotte had hoped. He stared seemingly right into her, his blackish-brown eyes meeting her own hazel gaze.

”Well, miss accounting degree, I’m Vincent Caddel. And you are…?”

Charlotte almost sneered at the pause he gave her, as if he thought she was too stupid to remember her own name.

”Charlotte,” she answered curtly.

Vincent was still watching her with that calculating gaze, his fingers idly swirling his straw in his drink. It created a sort of spiral in the colorful liquid, catching Charlotte’s eye. She barely realized that Vincent had asked another question.

”Oh, um, repeat that?”

Usually Charlotte’s attention span was better than that. She’d have to start paying attention.

”I asked you what you’re doing here,” Vincent repeated smoothly. “Not that a beauty like you isn’t welcome here, but I figured that you’d be all caught up trying to juggle a job and responsibilities for yourself.”

Ugh, flirting and condescension in one. Charlotte kept her tone casual as she spoke. “I can handle myself, thanks. I was just trying to unwind after work.”

“Ah. I see.”

Vincent continued his subtle motions with his straw, his drink swirling as his straw made circular rounds. It was colorful, a mix of bright tropical blue and a rosy red, catching Charlotte’s eye in a way she found enticing. The colors seemed to meet, but never mix, an endless pattern in the depths of the glass.

”But should a gorgeous woman like you really trouble herself with all that hassle?” Vincent asked, his tone seeming to soften and lower. “If I know anything about women, I know that you just want a break from the world. You want a good time, don’t you?”

Sure, Charlotte couldn’t deny that she wanted a good time, but… oh, she’s daydreaming again. Come on, Charlotte. Respond like you actually have a brain.

”I…suppose I like to have fun, but I wouldn’t give up my job for it.”

Vincent subtly shook his head, leaning in slightly until it felt like it was only him and Charlotte on the couch. He continued his motion with his finger, still stirring the straw and making the drink swirl while Charlotte watched.

”But don’t you see? That job of yours, it’s weighing you down. It’s like a hot, heavy weight on your shoulders, getting hotter each and every shift as the pressure increases on your poor mind…”

Charlotte began to feel something. A strange heat began to brew within her, spurred on by the man’s words. She fumbled her words for a second before making a flimsy justification for why she was now sweating a bit.

”It’s, um, warm in here.”

”Ah,” Vincent chuckled. “So warm. You’ll have to forgive the constrictive situation. I’ll tell you a secret; it’s simply a cover-up job to get people to buy more drinks. Smart, right?”

That was smart. Smarter than anything Charlotte would have thought of. Wait, Vincent spoke like he worked here or something. Charlotte gazed at him in mild confusion, feeling a bit hazy and slow as he responded before her.

”Running a nightclub isn’t hard for me, of course. I can take the heat. Not that a woman like you manage it. We’re simply not cut from the same cloth, you and I.”

All this talk of constriction and heat had a strange idea forming in Charlotte’s mind as she watched the drink swirl. Maybe…maybe she could just unbutton her blouse and let some air on her chest. After all, almost everyone here was blackout drunk, so a slight bit of cleavage didn’t matter, did it? But no, Charlotte was in public, she couldn’t…

“Can’t you turn down the temperature a bit?” Charlotte asked him, sounding a little flustered.

”Sorry sweetheart, but that just wouldn’t be the smart thing to do, would it? But don’t worry. I can help you.”

As if doing her a favor, Vincent reached his hand down to her pants, undoing her buttons and zipper until he’d opened up a gateway to her panties. Charlotte blushed, but she didn’t stop him, feeling slightly too hazy. Was she drunk or something? Even she didn’t know.

What Charlotte did know was that the breeze reaching her undergarments felt so nice, especially with her skin as flushed and hot as it is. Her whole body felt as if it was tingling as Vincent’s soft words continued right next to her ear.

”But even this can’t stop that unbearable heat within, can it? No, darling, it can’t. You need to deal with that heat yourself, don’t you?”

Charlotte blushed more as she realized what he was implying. She fumbled her words, her tongue feeling slow and clumsy.

“N-no, no way. I have a reputation, I can’t just…”

”Shh, shush,” Vincent whispered, though his voice was firm. “Your reputation doesn’t matter here. Work doesn’t matter here. All that matters is that heat building between your legs, that heat that’s melting your thoughts. That heat that feels so natural for an air-headed slut like you.”

Slut? Charlotte wasn’t a slut, she-

“Touch yourself,” Vincent commanded in a murmur near her ear, interrupting her hazy thoughts. “Masturbate for me. Show everyone what a slut you really are.”

Before she even knew it, Charlotte had slipped her fingers below the line of her panties, pulling them down to expose her glistening cunt. Her gaze finally drifted away from the drink, staring right at her hand as she made it work.

Charlotte’s first moans caught the attention of those just nearby as she began to circle her own clit, her fingers sliding over the nub, slick with her own arousal. A few drunk perverts lingered around and watched, assuming that Charlotte was high off her ass.

And in a way, she was high. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, working her cunt in repeated, firm ministrations. Charlotte gave another pleasured gasp as her fingers slid inside of her needy hole, beginning to pump herself with endless fervor. Charlotte writhed on the couch, bucking her hips into her own hands, moaning more and more until…

”Cum.”

Vincent’s singular word cut through Charlotte’s dreamy state, and all at once, her orgasm crashed over her in a fierce wave. The couch was sticky with the evidence of her release, and Charlotte was left panting softly. Vincent simply stroked her hair with one hand, using his other to refasten her clothes over her dripping cunt.

”There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Vincent cooed, though his voice was brimming with cruel amusement. “Even a brainless bitch like you knows how to fuck herself for my amusement.”

Charlotte didn’t contest that. Everything Vincent said felt so right, so clear. She let the man hoist her to her feet, her legs shaky from the ordeal.

”Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we?” Vincent asked. “Perhaps the VIP section? It’s a slut’s playground back there.”

”S…sure,” Charlotte agreed, fumbling for words in this state.

Satisfied, Vincent led Charlotte towards the back of the nightclub. She followed, oblivious to the onlookers still oogling. Overcome with strange new emotions, Charlotte could only await whatever came next.