An invitation to the old cottage that Carmella has long wondered about is exciting until she enters the gabled abode. The man who lives there hosts parties of a different sort, with guests engaged in activities only whispered about in Carmella’s world. She looks at the handsome man by her side with an unsettling gaze, but he is too busy enjoying the show to be bothered by her possible discomfort with the sights before her. When the two of them become the center ring in the bizarre circus of events, she realizes that home is a long way from the house on the hill.
Carmella had always been curious about the eerie looking cottage that she had assumed was abandoned. She waited until the sun went down before making the trek through the back yard and into her neighbor’s yard. Climbing the back fence wasn’t easy in a dress, but no one was watching so she tied it up at her waist, climbed onto a low branch of a tree and hopped over. As she lowered her dress and smoothed it down, she didn’t know that she was being watched.
With a pair of binoculars, Bradford had watched her every move. Before long, she would be his, if the night went as planned. Let the games begin!
“Come in, Carmella. The party is in full swing.”
Carmella looked around the old house that was amazingly modern, if not a little overdone, on the inside. She noticed that the guests were wearing disguises, though she and Bradford were not. His eyes told her that she was not to question him, but she hadn’t gotten that impression from him when they talked earlier. He seemed different now.
Her attention quickly turned to the sound of orchestra music playing in the distance. Bradford put his arm around her waist and ushered her into a large room. A number of the guests proceeded up the grand staircase where Carmella assumed they would become part of a more intimate type of party, each couple doing their own thing, but when the antique grandfather clock chimed the top of the hour, the orchestra music abruptly ceased.
Carmella asked, “What happens now?”
Bradford shushed her and told her to wait and watch. The lights dimmed and in the center of the room appeared a masked trumpeter dressed like a mythical bird. He stood in the middle of the room and blew his horn, forcing Carmella to hold her hands over her ears. Everyone in the room was silent as a masked guard entered the room and announced loudly, “Lord and Lady of the cottage, welcome to the greatest show on the mountain. The evening’s entertainment is soon to begin. Enjoy a night of wanton debauchery.” The announcer then exited the middle of the room as quietly as he had entered. Carmella looked at Bradford with an unsettling gaze, but he was too busy enjoying the show to be bothered by her possible discomfort with the sight before her. If this is what went on in the cottage on the hill, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of it, but when she tried to pull away from him, he held her more tightly to him, his hand seeming to grow larger at her waist. A smile formed upon Bradford’s mouth, though Carmella did not look at him. She felt as if she had become part of an erotic movie. She had never seen anything like it.