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I don’t know. I don’t ever remember having family. I was an orphan same as you, spent my first years in an church orphanage I’ve been told, and then a few years on the streets. The fort picked me up early like I said. In some ways I owe them a lot…they gave me a roof over my head, a bed, and 3 meals a day for maybe the first time in my life. I had to cook and clean in return, menial stuff, until the time came when I could work…really work.
– – –
“My dear one, have we ever treated you as anything other than family?..have we ever treated you poorly?”
6’s voluminous white curls bounced gently as she spoke, framing her narrow face. Beautiful features with only soft lines around the eyes and the edges of her mouth that indicated her many years of service. Her air of confident composure also spoke to her seniority.
“No…of course not Ma’am.”
“-And do you not owe us much? For your name? Your health? In truth you owe us a life…for the one we so generously gave you.”
Grainy images flashed behind his eyes; open palms begging for coins and filled only with falling rain, the dark van with the caged bird, the promises offered, and those broken.
“I…yes Ma’am.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other. You have lived comfortably for so many years here, and now it is time for you to repay that. You will start working in one month…28 days. As a way of respecting your time already paid, we will start you on level three. I will not subject you to the slums…you will make me a lot of money my dear. There are already several clients asking about you. I’m looking forward to us working together in this way Henri.”
She had a way of looking at you that made you weak; like she was looking into your soul, baring your soft and vulnerable parts. Those wide brown eyes that narrowed just enough to set your pulse racing and your throat tightening. The insincere smile that rarely faltered.
It was often difficult to distinguish between, or even separate, the fear from the arousal.
6 stepped out from behind her desk, stilettos clacking on the marble floor, to perch casually on the front edge, feet almost touching his.
“Stand.”
He towered above her, even in skyscraper heels, as he did with most people. Her head fell roughly in line with his sternum.
“You are such a beautiful creature…and so very obedient.”
Her long nails traced the lines of his broad chest through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Henri kept his eyes forward, focusing just over her shoulder at an abstract painting on the back wall, following the curves of heavy red paintbrush strokes.
Again those grainy flashbacks returned; red stained palms and smeared red lipstick.
He prayed it was only him who could feel his knees shaking.
“Immaculate.”
She lifted the hem and unbuttoned, exposing the wide expanse of his pale skin. Her fingertips moving to circle the dark peaks of his nipples.
He felt the flesh stiffen, and his arms broke out in reluctant goosebumps as she pulled roughly now at the taut skin.
Pulling at Henri’s chin, she brought his eyes back to hers, and held them as she unbuttoned his trousers. The fabric fell in a puddle around his ankles, and he felt the cool air breeze momentarily over his burning skin before her hand enveloped him.
6’s mouth was fixed in a sly smile as she jerked his growing erection, rolling the flesh expertly until it was twitching eagerly towards her.
Henri’s mouth fell open a fraction as the breath caught in his throat. Her gaze was hypnotic, and although desperate to look away, he held it, his eyes hooded as the throbbing in his balls increased.
By some magnetic force, his body leaned forward, his hips pressing up further into her hand, desperate to reach the peak he climbed rapidly toward.
He had touched himself before, in the quiet and secluded end block of showers, or under the sheets whilst the rest of the dormitory slept. Her touch however was softer than his own, more dexterous. Knowing just how hard to grasp. Knowing just how fast he needed it. Ignoring the impatient thrusts of his eager hips.
“Glad to know everything is in working order.”
6’s words were barely a whisper as her hand fell away.
“GUARDS.”
– – –
“That VIP group have already complained, can you rescue this!? Ryder looks fucking drunk or something…can someone just fucking get him out of there? What’s that thing that they yank people off stage with? The Bo Peep thing…we need one.”
Luna, the stage manager at ‘Yaytsa’ grabbed at the cuff of Henri’s jacket as she spoke, pausing to bark down her headpiece at some unseen staff.
“I’m meant to be working the audience here.”
He readjusted the collar of his shirt in the small mirror behind the bar, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Come onnnn…save this night for me. 3 is already at my throat about numbers, and last night was a fucking flop. You’re only ‘working the audience’ because you pissed Tony off yesterday.”
“Tony was an ass, so was 3. I wish 6 had waited another kaçak iddaa year to retire and I might have gotten that new head instead.”
“Come onnnn…don’t make me beg. I’m going to end up in that grimy latex club if I don’t make them money. I don’t suit it, god knows I’ve tried.”
“I’d love a whisky.”
He turned and smiled, the wide dazzling smile he knew disarmed people.
“…Can someone get me a Hibiki, double…ok now will you go on?”
“And I want tomorrow off. I’ll just work the bar.”
“Are you kidding? If 3 finds out…”
“Then I’ll fix it.”
He took Luna’s waist in one large hand as he moved past and around the narrow bar, a gesture that could be mistook as inadvertent, but rarely was. Henri felt her eyes follow him as he moved away.
He knew full well the effect he had on people. He had spent his whole life learning to charm and beguile. It was his whole purpose here. Henri knew just what to say, how to move, and how to touch, to set pulses racing. It was easy when you really paid attention. And when you made the customers happy, you made the heads happy. And then life was easy. It was simple really.
That’s why he found it frustrating when others could be quite so oblivious. Oblivious was the word coming to mind in that particular moment, imagining the clueless Ryder helicoptering his half erect dick at a silent and unimpressed group of women.
It had taken Henri very little time to get to level six, and he had no intentions of moving down at any point; losing his cushy jobs, private room, and general privileges.
Taking his drink from the edge of the bar, he finished it in three large gulps, enjoying the gentle burn that settled in his chest.
“Send in two more guys…and then I want Tina…not Grace.”
He shouted over his shoulder to Luna before pushing back the red velvet curtain that led to the VIP section.
– – –
The women sat in a large half moon of scattered seats and small tables, all facing the back wall which was floor to ceiling glass looking out into the rest of the club. The ‘window’ however was two-way mirror, serving as the backdrop to the main stage. It meant that VIP customers got the best view possible of the shows, discreetly.
Ryder was being beckoned away by one of the guards. Not that the ladies would have noticed. The small group spoke amongst themselves, champagne in hand, all surrounding one elegant 30-something with a small white lace veil with ‘bride’ in gold letters atop it.
“Ladies…I don’t think things have been up to the level you expect this evening…can I change that for you?”
He put himself front and centre and flashed them a signature smile, tucking one thumb into his waistband and feeling the shirt tighten across his chest.
“I don’t know…can you?”
One of the women to the left of the bride spoke up, elbowing her friend playfully and tossing a wave of platinum hair off her shoulder. He didn’t recognise many of them, and wondered how many were ‘Fort Virgins’ here to see if the lewd tales were true. That would only make his job easier and he mused that even with Tina joining later it would definitely be the most ‘pg’ job he worked that night.
“Let’s get you another couple of bottles first…”
He strode forward, until he towered over them, eyes on the woman in white he knew as ‘Maria’. Her husband-to-be was a big spender at The Fort. He’d booked private nights with the slaves before, but generally he preferred to sit upfront at the clubs, so the other guests could also be witness to his lavish tipping and expensive bar tab. He had brought his fiancée to the club once or twice before too, but nothing ‘physical’ with her there, just glorified stripteases.
Henri wondered if Maria knew her fiancés kinks as well as the staff did.
“…and then how about we take it from there?”
He flicked his eyes back and forth between her eyes and her thin glossy lips. Like he had so many times before. He watched her chest rise and fall deeply, her legs shifting almost indiscernibly in her chair.
He clicked his fingers once in the air, summoning one of the waitresses for more champagne, and then he pulled up a spare chair and settled in next to Maria.
The music thrummed up his legs, and the women around him resumed into a low chatter, watching through the window as three lithe dancers gyrated against one another.
Henri ensured his knee pressed against Marias’ and he reached out, the back of his hand grazing her bare thigh as if innocently getting her attention.
“So…what do you want tonight.”
He leaned in close, his lips meeting the curve of her ear. Again, it could be innocent enough. The music was fairly loud.
“I want to be entertained…isn’t that why everyone comes?”
Maria bit her bottom lip, her leg pushing closer against his own.
His fingers still lingered on her thigh and he grazed them upwards slowly until they met the hem of her dress.
“She wants a good fuck before she marries limp dick!”
One of her friends barked from the other side of Henri, kaçak bahis her words slurred slightly, and annoyance flashed in Maria’s eyes momentarily. I guess the music wasn’t loud enough.
“Shut the fuck up Heather, you wouldn’t know good dick if it slapped you in the face.”
Someone else rebuked ‘Heather’ and Maria simply rolled her eyes.
“Is that what you’re here for?”
Henri spoke lower still, his mouth inches from Maria’s neck. He could smell the tang of cigarette smoke on her breath, and an overly sweet perfume that seemed popular at the moment. It always turned his stomach.
“Well…no. I can’t…Mike said…”
“It’s fine…we have plenty of ways to please besides that.”
Leaning back he cast his eyes towards the dancers nonchalantly, his arm slung over the back of Maria’s chair and his fingers stroking the soft skin at the back of her arm.
“Can a couple of my friends come join?”
He spoke louder now, ensuring the entire group heard, and not just nosey Heather.
The women erupted in drunken cackles of approval and once more Henri clicked, motioning with two fingers for the others to join. It was only moments before Chris and Vance sauntered in. Unlike his suit, they were dressed simply in white t-shirts and dark jeans, and Henri mused that they had clearly been dragged from another job in a different club to assist. 3 was pretty strict on dress code.
He hadn’t worked with Chris before, but had joined Vance for a group thing several months before. He was loud but charming, and Henri was glad to have some of the other women’s attention off of him so he could focus in on the one person who he knew would be in charge of payment.
Both men settled into the group with ease, filling up glasses and flirting shamelessly.
“What brings you here?”
Henri’s fingers continued tracing circles at the back of Maria’s arm.
“What, so women aren’t allowed to like stuff like this?”
Eyebrow cocked up, Maria gestured vaguely to the stage.
“No no, I of all people know how much women can enjoy…stuff like this. But I mean what do you enjoy? You can’t be at a place like this just to watch the dancers?”
“We’ve watched the sex shows too before.”
“Okay…now we are getting somewhere.”
He grinned, his hand moving upwards to trace along her shoulder blade.
“So what sort of shows?”
“It was this circus thing, like gymnasts, hanging from the ceiling.”
“And is that what you’re into?”
“It was fun yer. The guy had a really big dick.”
She feigned disinterest, sipping her champagne, but the tension in her leg as it rested against his told him otherwise.
Henri sighed and stretched out in his seat, watching Maria’s eyes followed the muscles of his chest as they flexed.
“No no…”
Leaning in, his head angled close to hers once more, he flicked his eyes back down purposefully to her mouth.
“…I don’t want to know what you do for fun, I want to know what makes you wet.”
‘Bingo’ he thought smugly as he watched the scarlet blush creep up her cheeks. Her eyes darted away from his gaze, unable to hold it any longer. She laughed awkwardly, and gulped another mouthful of champagne.
Henri didn’t move.
“I…I guess I’ve always had fantasies…”
Henri edged closer still, the length of his body pressed against hers now, from knee to shoulder. His fingers moved along the slope where her shoulder met her neck, and finding the muscles there knotted tightly, he softly kneaded the taut flesh.
“Fantasies of like…someone losing control with me. That’s just like…a normal one I think?”
He laughed darkly and her head turned towards his, eyes wide and smile faltering.
“WOOO! Ride em cowboy!”
Henri’s train of thought was at that moment interrupted, and he turned to see most of the other women egging the now topless Vance on, as he ground his crotch against the lap of one of the rowdier guests, her skirt riding up slightly to reveal her lack of underwear.
Chris was buried in the neck of another just three seats along, who seemed pleasantly oblivious to the rest of the group. His hand had disappeared under the hemline of her little black dress.
“Jesus. Maybe that last bottle of champagne was a mistake.”
Maria tossed her hair over her shoulder, laughing freely with her friends once more. The reverie broken. Henri considered stepping away for a moment and grabbing a drink himself when he felt her hand reach out and grasp his knee.
“Do you…dance?”
He smirked at her question, again looking to Vance as he inverted over the chair, crotch to the woman’s face now.
“That’s not my area of expertise.”
“Ok, you’ve piqued my interest then. Dare I ask? What’s your area of expertise?..flirting with girls at the bar? Bringing them bottle after bottle of Moet and rinsing them of their hard earned money?”
His next wide smile was genuine, as Henri considered her assessment of him. Too close for comfort.
Taking her hand in his, he lifted it from his knee and pressed firmly it into illegal bahis the bulge nestled along his upper thigh.
“No…my job is to fuck women who’ve never been fucked properly before, and show them how good it should have felt all along.”
Maria’s mouth fell open in surprise before she snapped it shut again, her hand twitching against his growing erection, but not making any move to pull away.
“Cocky.”
“Just confident. I’ve got the portfolio to back it up.”
“…And how much does something like that cost? Just out of curiosity.”
“I’m in your budget. Put it that way…How about a taster?”
Henri avoided the question of price. Despite his ranking, that was one conversation only management could have with a client. The price could vary wildly based on the client themselves, the worker, what they wanted, if they were repeat customers.
“What…what do you mean? I said before-“
Her mouth again had fallen open, and she looked fearful at the prospect of having to act on her flirting now. Her hand snapped back to her own lap.
“You’ve seen sex shows? How about a private one for you and your friends? No gymnasts in sight.”
Her eyes searched his, before scanning her group of friends as they partied around her. The music was low and rhythmic under their seats and through the window the dancers were mostly nude now, spinning soundlessly around the poles and gyrating against one another.
Henri wondered for a moment if she would bite or not. They’d had their fair share of alcohol and he could see she was curious now. They were a fairly innocent bunch though, and he was sure at least half of them had never been to so much as a strip club before tonight. He was usually excellent at reading people, but he feared tonight he was off the mark. He considered calling Luna back and just asking for another dancer or two when Maria herself clicked her fingers towards the waitress at the back.
“Shots please…I don’t care what.”
Turning back to Henri she smiled, readjusting her dress to reveal an inch more cleavage than before.
“Go on then…entertain us.”
‘Bingo’
Henri took the half-empty champagne glass from Maria’s hand and placed it on the table.
“Do you think you can help me get a little more comfortable?”
He stood and gestured down the front of his shirt, Maria smiling conspiratorially to her friends as they turned their interest towards the pair.
“What would Mike say!”
A loud American voice cackled from somewhere to the side, and Henri arched one eyebrow up, daring her.
“Mike is paying so he knows full well…I’m just not allowed to fuck anyone.”
She grinned wide now, revealing a jarringly large set of veneers, and Henri forced himself to smile back. He took her hand and pressed it firmly to his abdomen, leading her to his buttons.
“Does that rule apply to everyone?”
Chris spoke from behind, his voice muffled in the cleavage of another.
Henri held her hand to his body still, inches from his waistband.
“You can fuck me!” Barked out one of the others.
Letting her motionless hand fall, he slipped the jacket from his shoulders, casting it across a nearby chair, making sure to turn as he did and allowing the shirt to stretch across his back.
He kicked off both shoes, both socks, and then moved back to his shirt, gesturing once more to the bride-to-be.
“Unbutton it.”
He used his ‘stern master’ voice now,
unsure how it would land, but pleasantly surprised when her eyes darkened.
“I will if she doesn’t!”
A lady to his right spoke up, masking her eagerness as a joke it seemed. Henri cast her a sly smile and returned his gaze to Maria, looming over her small frame and taking the back of her chair in hand until his face was inches from hers.
She jolted into action and worked quickly then, her long nails clicking on the buttons as she went, and the blush darkening up her neck.
Slipping the shirt off his arms, he let it fall to the floor, and continuing with the act that seemed to be working for him in this case, took her hand into his and pressed it roughly against his hardness once more.
“Now the party is really starting!”
“Jesus.”
The alcohol laced group blabbered all around him, but the music seemed to be getting louder also, and the thumping beat vibrated up Henri’s legs as he motioned to his belt.
“Carry on.”
Maria’s mouth hung open now, fingers tightening as if trying to gauge the size of him. Her friends had quietened somewhat in that moment, waiting to see what she would do. How far it would go.
The ‘bride’ cast another glance to her friends and unbuckled his belt, fingers shaking slightly now despite her lascivious smile.
The viagra had fully kicked in as his trousers fell to the floor, and Maria gasped softly as his cock bounced upward towards her.
“Fucking hell.”
“Is that real!?”
“Where do I sign up for a job?”
Henri couldn’t tell if the women he heard were referring to him, or if Vance was entertaining one of the guests more thoroughly now. He could still see Chris’ hand working under the little black dress, and at least one disapproving look from a friend who was clearly regretting accepting the invite at this point.
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