by Alice Ward
“Yes, you can, and you will. You have to.” Brandy’s eyes were earnest. She must have seen my panic, and she’d known how to talk me down since I was an adolescent. “It’s just music. You love to sing, you always have. It’s what you do, who you are. We won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”
She was right, I could do this. It was only music.
I slipped my arms into the long gossamer wings that swept the floor as stagehands fitted the thick harness straps around my waist. Lights flared onstage and glimmering specks sparkled about the theater.
“Welcome to Jewel,” the announcer crooned. The noise of the men in the theater went silent. The stage stood empty except for the glaring spotlight trained on the announcer. “Tonight, take a journey unlike any you’ve ever traveled, to a land far far away. A land of delights.”
I was hoisted into the air, and my false wings spread wide.
CHAPTER FOUR
Roman
In the opulent men’s restroom, surrounded by marble and gold-flecked granite, I splashed cold water on my face and dried it with a hand towel that probably cost more than my shoes.
After catching that gorgeous creature in my arms, I carried her inside out of the rain. In the dim hallway behind the stage, the air was highly charged with sensuality. That must have been why I completely lost anything resembling sensibility and decorum.
I shuddered thinking about how I actually asked the masked goddess if she was in the book. How stupid of me, of course she was. Why else would she be here?
I stuck my head under the running water to cool my overheated libido, to freeze out whatever spell that beauty had put me under, practically having me pulling out my Amex Black. This place was legendary because it fucked with you. Everyone here played a game that even the most decent of men would find hard to resist.
After frequent trips here to stimulate clients, I knew that any woman at Jewel could be bought. If they weren’t already on the menu, they would be. All of the hostesses and wait staff were Jewels in training. If the women on offer for the night sold out, discreet offers for your hostess could begin. The girl in the black cape and mask was probably one of their gimmicks. Maybe guys liked to fuck women in masks; that slight limp probably was a thing as well.
By now, my client had more than likely been escorted into the theater, which would become the offer room once the entertainment came to a close. It was unusual for one of my clients to come solo with me to Jewel, and I didn’t want Duk to have to sit alone. I never went in the theater, but this time it would only be in the interest of business for me to join him.
When I returned to Duk, he seemed too delighted to even notice I was gone.
“Did I miss anything?” I whispered as I slipped into the seat beside him.
“Just that!” He motioned to the ceiling. “One of the gentlemen said she is their most amazing act.”
The woman from the hallway was perched overhead, her arms outstretched as a beam of light illuminated her high above us. It was then I noticed the tinkle of music and its haunting melody. That wasn’t… that couldn’t be. Was it her voice? It had to be a recording.
I watched in amazement as she flew over us like a fairy, with her wings outspread, singing in a low, intriguing voice. Her body glimmered under the lights and I caught glimpses of her shape. Wrapped in a nude bodysuit beneath the flowing gauze that floated around her, she appeared nearly bare-skinned. Her body was hourglass shaped, her waist accentuating rounded hips and the curves of her breasts. My eyes flicked to the stage, where acrobats were contorting themselves into a Cirque du Soleil version of the Kama Sutra, but my attention was immediately drawn back to her. She was unreal, like something out of a fairy tale.
“Her voice is beautiful,” I said to myself as I allowed myself to indulge in the moment and was startled when Duk spoke beside me.
“She’s so special.” His eyes were glazed, carnal desire shining in their dark depths. I felt a pang of jealousy before I told myself how ridiculous that was.
As she gradually floated down from the ceiling, the sexual contortionists faded into the shadows behind her, and she stood alone under a green-blue spotlight. In that light, her face under the mask was serene and mysterious.
I didn’t exactly know what it was about her that seized me so completely — whether it was her beauty or the veil of melancholy that surrounded her — but the sound of her husky voice and the hints of her physical form glinting under the light electrified me. The mystery of her had me wanting to possess her more than anything I’d ever desired. To remove her mask, see what beauty lay beneath.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she took command of the room. Her voice riveted every one of us as she sang in a foreign language.
I was transfixed.
Glancing over, Duk too had an adoring glow as he beheld her. He smacked my arm with the back of his hand and motioned to the small tray on the back of the seat in front of me. “I got you bourbon. For watching the boobies.” He laughed. Duk thought everything was funny.
I wrapped my hand around the glass, brought it to my lips and emptied it in one long swallow. Most likely, Duk would select her tonight. I couldn’t imagine any other woman being more enticing. I signaled the waitress roaming our section of the theater for another glass to numb my envy of men who could allow themselves such indulgences.
Then the music changed, and the butterfly sang a lighter, sexier number. Half-naked dancers replaced the contortionists, undulating and grinding on each other behind her. The entertainment bordered on distasteful, especially with such a beautiful singer. The staged fuckery was somehow well done, whether because the dancers took more of a modern dance approach that raised the bar a little, or because I’d already downed two bourbons and was on my third, I didn’t know.
The end came too fast. I needed more.
Ignoring the voice in my head that chastised me for allowing the orchestrated magic of the place to get to me, I nonchalantly picked up the catalog and searched for the mystery woman’s page. The next performer took to the stage as I flipped through page after page of beautiful women, scanning to find her with no luck. Perhaps I was looking for a woman without a mask on.
I leaned toward Duk as I pretended to carelessly graze the pages. “Did you read about that last one, the one in the mask?”
“She’s only for the show,” he remarked with a note of disappointment as new waitresses began to serve an elaborate dinner that led to an entrée of wild caught salmon.
I ate a little, so I wouldn’t be sloshed, but couldn’t seem to turn my attention from the damn book. Each woman pictured in the book was gorgeous. I couldn’t help but think they could have been models or actresses. Why choose the Jewel?
I huffed. Money. Money was the ultimate draw, as always.
The book advertised that one woman was good at fellatio, another had remarkable hands, some were into whips and chains, others dominated or could be the recipient. As I scanned the pages covered with women I’d never seen before, a sense of loss crept in, until I reached the last entry in the book. My heart lifted a little at her beautiful masked face in glossy print.
The Butterfly, it read.
My eyes zeroed in on her description, and part of me cringed to know that I was about to see what was listed as her sexual specialties. Yet, I was curious. Part of what drew me to her so fiercely was that she didn’t seem human. She was more like a goddess, something I already knew was fake and wouldn’t take me by surprise.
When I spoke to her outside of the theater, I wasn’t sure if her cane was a part of her performance or something she really needed, but either way, her delicacy was intoxicating. She was powerful enough to walk away from me without much conversation, so I knew she had great command over her will, but she was also unabashedly imperfect.
I read over the blurb twice and saw no mention of sexual expertise, and further, no starting offer. Was it possible Duk was right, this incredible goddess-woman was not for sale? That as the book advertised
, she was a prelude to intense sexual satisfaction?
I signaled for service while the next act, two female contortionists dressed in what I could only call strings, finished their performance. Everyone had a price.
The hostess who answered my summons wore the highest fashion, probably just recently created by some hot, young designer. She was as stunning as the rest of the women at Jewel but gave the place a touch of class, presenting herself more in the line of service and business than sexual allure. With the hostesses, security guards, and management being so impeccably dressed, I could almost delude myself into thinking I wasn’t in a brothel.
“May I assist you, Mr. Wellington?” she asked, sounding eager to meet my every need.
I pointed casually to the The Butterfly’s picture. “I don’t see her starting price listed.”
“This is because she is purely to delight your senses as a prelude to tonight’s other entertainments. She is not on offer.” The hostess was kind, her voice smooth and delightful, the sort that made you feel like everything was right in the world.
At her words, a desperation gripped me. I pretended to peruse the menu again to catch my breath. How could I covet this woman to the point that my insides constricted knowing she was out of reach? It was laughable. I felt like a love-starved teenager.
And probably for no reason.
Beneath the mask, I was sure she was like any other woman. A gold digger looking for a rich husband, or even a sugar daddy to keep her in the comfort she felt she deserved.
But she didn’t strike me as like any of the others. Something told me she wasn’t fake.
Fuck it. I wanted her, real or not.
“I’m not interested in her for entertainment, I just want to talk to her for an hour or so.” My eyes locked with the woman’s, giving her my best comply-with-my-instruction look. My palms dampened with sweat as my heart ticked faster in my chest. I studied the hostess’ face, intently willing her to give a positive reaction.
Duk made a disgusted face. “Just talk? That’s stupid.” He playfully knocked my shoulder with the open palm of his hand. “Just offer a lot of money, you can have anything you want.”
I ignored him. Kept my gaze on the hostess, never breaking eye contact with her.
“Let me see what I can arrange for you, Mr. Wellington,” the hostess graciously offered. “Would you like to define your terms? You may use your cell phone if you’d like. Just text to JEWEL. We have a text service for women not included in this evening’s program.”
I marveled at how civilized she made selling sex sound as I pulled my cell out of my pocket. “Thank you, I’ll send the text now.”
She bowed to me. “I’ll return with the manager’s answer. It may take a moment as she’ll be securing the offerings in the catalog first.” She flashed a wide, deliberate smile, fabricated to create a sense of ease and courtesy. Everyone in this establishment was well trained.
Duk leaned into me while I was sending the text. “Can I have her after?”
My blood boiled as I typed, For the Butterfly, just want to talk for an hour, clothed. $50,000. Hitting send, I felt a rush of excitement, fear, and possessiveness as the swooshing sound let me know the message sent.
“Show me who is of interest to you tonight, Mr. Soo.” I opened the book in front of him, making my best effort to shift his attention away from the Butterfly. “The Parade of Delights is about to begin.”
“Oh, I like the redhead one. She likes motorcycles. And then there’s this Brazilian girl.” Duk poked the page with his finger as he went over the attributions of each woman who had captured his interest, as if he was reading an investment portfolio. “Look at the tits on her.”
I shook my head and smiled.
“What about this one?” He pointed to a blonde woman in a bikini. “You think her nose is too big?” He scrutinized the picture with an earnest concern.
“Well, you know what they say about big noses.”
“No, what do they say?” Duk eagerly awaited my explanation of the nose’s mythic properties.
“Nothing, it’s a dumb joke. Pick the one that makes your pecker hard, Soo. That’s what I’d do.” I signaled the waitress to refill Duk’s glass of soju, a colorless traditional Korean drink made from rice that packed a punch.
He laughed. “That’s the problem, Roman, it’s up for everyone. How am I gonna choose?”
I snorted as the emcee for the evening entered the stage. When he walked up to the microphone dressed in an elegant tuxedo, I realized there were very few male workers at Jewel. I knew they had a section of the business that catered to men who wanted men or both men and women for pleasure, but it must have been another, more discreet operation, because tonight was all about the women.
“Gentlemen, I am honored to introduce you to some of the most talented, educated, and delightful women God has had the grace to create. Each is a rare Jewel who will tantalize and delight every sense. I promise, when you depart tonight, you’ll leave with memories that will rival any other… at least until you come back.” Music began in the background that slowly built in tension as the emcee stepped up his dramatic introduction. “Enjoy the delights before you and choose well. Every Jewel is precious, you will be delighted at any choice. It is with great pleasure that I present to you, the Jewels of the evening in a Parade of Delights.”
Stage lights flared to life as the music roared into a crescendo. The energy in the room escalated as the first woman walked across the long catwalk. She was wearing ribboned organza that flowed in strips, revealing hints of her naked skin beneath. Arms were raising around the room and hostesses took men’s offers with an elegance and discretion that was impressive. The entire process was refined and civilized, but each time a hostess returned to the table with a sweet expression of regret, I knew the money was multiplying. Millions were being played.
Duk raised his hand for the second girl, the one with the big nose, as he winked at me.
I leaned closer to him. “Good choice.”
Our hostess came to our table and bowed her head to him. “Thank you, Mr. Soo.” She took his offer card, and then bowed to me as well. “I’ve yet to hear anything about your interest, Mr. Wellington. Would you like to place an order, in case I’m not able to secure your request?”
I wanted to shout at her that no one ever turned me down, but refrained. God, I must’ve been in need of a good screw if I was lusting after a butterfly entertainer like this. “No, thank you.”
“Very well.” She bowed a last time and carried Duk’s offer card to the manager.
I watched her hand it over, scanning the manager’s face — a young but sharp and sexy platinum blonde — for any reaction. I couldn’t leave here tonight without knowing more about the mysterious butterfly.
CHAPTER FIVE
Adara
The stage hands unhooked me from the flying apparatus as I struggled to make my legs hold me up. I was lightheaded, my blood pounding through my veins. I felt like I could fly to the top of the roof without ropes to lift me.
Though I dreaded this particular stage and show, my reaction was always this way after performing. It had been since I started performing in dinky bars when I wasn’t even old enough to drink.
Performing transformed me, and for the time I was on stage, I was in another, better place. I could pretend that I was still the star who sold out shows and was known around the world.
Reality quickly crashed in the minute my feet touched the stage, the pain knifing up my leg to remind me I wasn’t whole. And the world had forgotten about me.
“Amazing show tonight,” Janis whispered, who at twenty-one and no more than ninety-five pounds, looked like a tiny doll as she stood in line waiting her turn to be presented on stage.
I gave her my warmest smile. “Thanks.”
Of all the women at Jewel, Janis was my favorite. She exuded innocence and kindness.
The other women, while very beautiful, were deep into the business. Jewel was their en
tire life and in most cases, the people here were their only family. No one ever mentioned their distaste for the work. To them, it was their only world. We never spoke of wanting other lives or jobs. No one even considered the thought. If someone got too old to get offers, found a boyfriend who disapproved or threatened a lawsuit against the company or became pregnant, they just disappeared.
Janis was different.
“Good luck,” I said, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I keep forgetting.”
Janis giggled. “It’s fine to say whatever you want to me, but ‘have a good night’ is more standard for everyone else.”
She was right. At Jewel, “have a good night” translated to hope-you-end-up-with-someone-nice-and-make-a-lot-of-money.” She glanced to the stage and wrung her hands together. She was the next to go out on the runway.
“Have a good night then.”
She winked at me, took a deep breath, and walked out on stage, her hips swaying a slow, erotic beat.
I quickly turned away. I didn’t want to see her go out there, nor did I want to see the looks on the men’s faces. It was too much for me to bear.
Grateful the night was over, I was on my way to the rear exit when Brandy sprinted toward me, her heels clacking on the marble floor. When she caught up, she grabbed my upper arm and leaned on me a bit, her breath coming in fast little puffs.
I frowned and wished I was able to run too. I just wanted to get back to my room where the surroundings were semi normal, everything wasn’t neat and orchestrated, and the opulence didn’t cling like a silently oppressive spirit. But this was Brandy, and she’d talked me down from my panic, so I held back my first instinct to snap.
The expression she wore was the one she usually did when in the main building, practically a plastic façade, without true expression. “Hey, A… Mona. Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right? You were so wonderful, as usual.”
Brandy’s bubbly, “you were so wonderful” approach always meant that she had something else up her sleeve, but at least she’d remembered to call me Mona. Nights at Jewel were very stressful affairs. Anything could and often did go wrong, so checking in on my wellbeing would be very low on her priority list.