Max’s ride was already in the parking lot, standing there in all its majestic glory. If you could call the thing majestic without sarcasm dripping down your chin. Samuel’s driver was finding it hard not to just stare at it whilst out of the car.
“I will be waiting for you out here sir.” The driver said after he had closed the passenger door. He didn’t look it but there were little tell tale signs that he was uncomfortable, Samuel gave him a nod before making his way to the front door.
There three things that made Deseru standout. One was exclusivity. The establishment only catered to high-end clients and there were tiers for that. A barrage of scents hit him when he entered. Leather, sweat, alcohol and arousal among other things but mostly arousal. Slow and suggestive music blared from the stereos and Samuel nearly winced before adjusting his hearing.
Neon lights bounced off spinning disco balls in the dimly lit room, enough to see the men and women pole dancing and stripping. There were no screams or encouraging whoots from their seated audience. Aside from the music from the stereo, there was no noise at all. There was no wild money spraying either. Any cash–mostly wads of it–were placed on a silver tray on a table in the middle of the seating arrangements. That was the second thing about Deseru, The Rules. The sophistication. The morality–or in this case, the lack thereof–in legality. You could do whatever the fuck you wanted as long as you didn’t act like a bunch of brainless beings or commonplace thugs and it did not bring in the police or the government, ie nothing illegal. You could be a well known serial killer or an outright psychopath with a wanted dead or alive sign and a reward of over twenty million dollars on your head but walk in here, obey the rules, drink, watch, fuck without incident, pay up and you are nothing more than the average customer.
Samuel was, by all means, not a patron. He had only been to Alvas twice before his great uncle’s death. Both occasions were fleeting and far in-between, but his recent tour had been quite helpful.
He spotted Max in the far right corner of the third stage. He was seated with five other people, three women and two men, all intently watching the lean but built, scantily leather clad man work his way up a pole. Max had gotten a new haircut from the last time he had seen him, that was four months ago. Then he had a mohawk, now he had short dreads with gold rings. He didn’t look like someone who owned the glittery monstrosity outside that looked like the tooth fairy was its exclusive mechanic.
Max caught sight of him and gave him a wave before returning his attention to the pole dancer. Samuel headed to the VIP lounge, slipping between the heavy crimson velvet curtains and up the stairs. The VIP lounge made what was downstairs look like a school boy’s wet dream. Up here, up here was a Man’s decadent fantasy. Red velvet hung from the curtains, the air smelt of expensive liquor and leather. The scent of arousal was unmistakable. No guesses why.
The pole dancers up here were different from the ones downstairs. The dancers downstairs, their moves merely gave suggestions, compared to these dancers. Their dances were more of an artform, their movements didn’t just give suggestions, fuck they were the suggestions. Watching them, the way the leather and thread bare fabric clung tightly to them as they twisted, walked, swung, twirled and dropped felt like they were fucking in the open, and they didn’t give a damn about it. It had him bulging in his pants.
Apart from the half naked people practically fucking the poles…and the rest of the audience. The atmosphere was entirely different. Downstairs felt basically like a room full of rich people, slightly stuffy and obnoxious. This place felt strictly for Kings and Queens, where power was the most common plaything. Trivial even. He liked it.
Samuel picked up the sound of her heels before he saw her. A woman, waist length dark brown hair, in a red dress that left most of her chest on display and a long slit that went up to her upper thigh walked up to him. Her chocolate coloured skin seemed to glow in the dim light and made the jewels on her neck, ears and arms twinkle. Her hazelnut brown eyes had an intelligent gleam tampered by seduction. The same could be said about the way her lush hips swayed as she sashayed forward with all the grace of a prowling feline.
“Such a good surprise to find you in my establishment, Alpha Princeton.” She remarked. Her voice as low and thick as it was, carried the tone of seduction that her eyes had indicated but there was something else in it too. Her accent gave away her birth place. New Orleans.
“I am Madame Adunola. Allow me to formally welcome you to Deseru.”
She smelt human with a very slight scent of crocodile and leopard. Of course, it was a bit hard to tell with the other scents that clung to her. Unlike the room and himself, he did not get a hint of arousal from her. Although hers was probably already sated not too long ago.
It seemed like she kept a harem of her own. An assortment of scents were mixed with hers, incubus, fairy, elf, vampire and… Samuel took in a larger inconspicuous breath. Shark? He had not encountered one before, let alone got a scent. Another surprise. She liked variety.
“Thank you, Madame.” He replied, in a voice as low as hers with an undeniable thickness to his own. A knowing look passed Madame Adunola’s face. “I trust it is to your liking.” Her voice dripping sultry.
“I haven’t fully had a chance to enjoy anything but so far I like what I see.”
Madame Adunola gave a small melodious laugh which ended with a tempting smile. “Then allow me to show you. Follow me, Alpha.” She gestured and took the lead. Simon followed. They walked towards the bar.
The bar made visible by small florescent lights, was considerably more lit than the rest of the room. The two bartenders, a man, dirty blond, grey eyes, slightly pale, maybe Twenty something years old. He smelled uncomfortable, anxious, and of sweat and cologne.
The other bartender, a woman, possibly in her early thirties, brown hair with gold highlights, mud brown eyes, a small nose and lips painted in sinful red. Unlike her counterpart, there was not a whiff of anxiety. There was obvious the scent arousal and sexual frustration. She eyed Samuel like he was dinner and an overly fat cheque all rolled in one. Too she did not know heavy mascara his thing.
Both bartenders were dressed more or less like professional bartenders. Good looking for sure and missing notable pieces of their uniform.
Madame Adunola turned to Samuel. “First, a drink to your first visit. Genna, the usual for me with a hint of ecstasy.”
Genna nodded and set to mixing the drink, still stealing hungry glances his way. “What would you like?” Madame Adunola asked.
“Scotch. Clean.”
“Of course, Andres, you heard the Alpha.” Madame Adunola said.
Andres got to work with Samuel’s drink. When both drinks arrived Madame Adunola proposed a toast. With both glasses in the air, Madame Adunola smiled “To the first of many visits.”
“To the first of many.” Samuel smiled in agreement. The toast ended with a clink of glasses, then gradual sips of the drinks they contained.
“I’m sure you didn’t just come for drinks alone. What do you want tonight?”
The phrase ‘The Night was still young.’ Never applied to Samuel except some few times. Unfortunately, this one was not one of them. Sure, he came to relax but that did not mean he would stay the entire night. He could only afford an hour or two.
“A lapdance and fuck.”
“Any particulars?”
Samuel knew exactly what he wanted but that was what he wanted out of his head completely. He wondered if asking for exactly the opposite of what he wanted was best. He decided against it. Better to get this out of his system.
Samuel took a sip of his scotch before answering. “Thic thighs, ok with going rough, no extensions, no fanatic, not clingy either and no druggies.”
“I take it you like multiple partners at once?” Madame Adunola asked, after a long sip of her drink.
“On occasion. Especially when I’m this stressed.” Samuel answered.
“Very well then. I’ll arrange it.” She stated, putting her empty glass down on the table.
Samuel rolled his nearly empty glass in his hand. “And how fast will that be possible?”
“Two minutes max.”