Fetish

by Sherri L. King

  They would go shopping together this Sunday. Aerin looked forward to it with the hunger a starving animal might have for a raw steak. At times, she felt pitiful over that, but at others she didn’t give a rat’s ass how pathetic it might have seemed to an outsider. She had a new friend and for the first time in a long while it felt right.

  She had Heather to thank for that. And Fetish. And…what had his name been? Violanti. Violanti, of course. That was it. What a horrible person she must be to struggle over something so simple, yet important, as the memory of his name. He’d given her the experience of a lifetime with his presence and his attention…and something else. She couldn’t remember what. Her mind tried to shy away from the memory, but like an oil slick on the surface of the ocean it lingered.

  How could she come so close to forgetting his name? After such an amazing night spent deep in eroticism, in conversation and in longing. What was wrong with her? She shook her head in an effort to clear it.

  It was unforgivable enough that she couldn’t distinctly remember the planes of his face. Or the color of his eyes. Hadn’t the color of his eyes been incredible…surely the picture of them should have stayed clear in her mind? Were they brown? Green? Yes, perhaps that was the color. They had been green. Yes. She was sure of that now.

  But wait.

  No.

  Green, jade-green, had been the color of the room they had shared. The room with the two-way mirror.

  So what color were his eyes?

  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she rubbed a hurried hand through her thick hair. Something wasn’t right. How could she not remember him? She had a great memory, and even now she could remember the scent of that jade and cream room. Vanilla, interspersed with accents of sweet and tangy fruit. Her nose was practically filled with that perfume now as she imagined it.

  But Violanti, his face and eyes—everything—was a blur in her memory. And come to think of it…so was the face of Madame Delilah. No matter how hard she struggled, she could not recall one detail of either Violanti’s or the Madame’s countenances.

  Perhaps the fine Cristal champagne had gone to her head, affecting her much more strongly that she had realized at the time.

  It made her more than a little sad that she couldn’t remember every single nuance of her night at Fetish. It had been a grand adventure. Perhaps not exactly as she’d envisioned, but at the same time it had been far better than any imaginings she’d previously entertained. At least…she thought it had been a far better time…she couldn’t be certain now. Too much was a blur. Too much had been forgotten.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so foolish on her part to go back there. One more time. Just once more, to find the reason why she was so certain it had been a liberating experience. Such a pleasure. Such a joy.

  With a happy smile she was at last able to let go of her musings, and free to crank out the remainder of the waiting wedding invitations. Work was never so easy. Her fingers flew across the keys and her thoughts flew towards the weekend. Towards her visit to Fetish, and towards her shopping trip with her new friend. As always, she looked ahead to the weekend—especially Saturday—with eager anticipation. But this time for different reasons.

  Different reasons entirely.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m glad to see you back, Aerin.” Madame Delilah grasped Aerin’s hands in hers and offered a kiss to each cheek.

  “Me, too,” she laughed, a little self-consciously.

  “Violanti speaks highly of you. I must admit that this pleases me—our Violanti is not an easy man to impress. Not by far. Don’t be surprised if he seeks you out again tonight. I certainly wouldn’t be.”

  Aerin hoped he would. In fact, her account was going to be five thousand dollars poorer after tonight, because she was banking on it. “What did he say?”

  Madame Delilah smiled enigmatically. “This and that…but I can tell from his tone that you both had a good time. I trust it was all you’d hoped for?”

  “I came back didn’t I?” Aerin almost giggled over her swift response. This was so unlike her, this feeling of daring and boldness that swam through her. The giggling was unlike her…in fact a lot of her actions had been alien to her this past week. How exciting.

  “Indeed,” the Madame laughed. “And the adventure seems to have done you much good. Why, I do believe there’s a bit of color in your cheeks! And to think, a week ago you seemed near collapse you were so pale.”

  Aerin smiled easily enough, but was uncomfortable hearing such bald talk about her appearance, which was never much to be proud of even under the best of circumstances. “Perhaps it’s the fresh spring air,” she offered, finally.

  “Perhaps.” The Madame’s eyes glittered above her smile. “You remember the rules?”

  Though she hadn’t really given them thought until that moment, Aerin did remember the club’s rules. Clearly. “Yes. I remember.”

  “Good. Shall I charge to the same account?”

  Aerin cringed—but only a little—reminded once again that this was a service she was paying for. Ah well, it was for the best, that reminder. She shouldn’t read too much into Violanti’s interest—or any one else’s here for that matter. It was her money they were interested in really, nothing else. “The same, yes. Thank you.”

  “Good.” The Madame’s smile broadened, the stretch of her full lips making her noble, attractive face all the more handsome. “You can go on through,” she motioned to the door that would lead to the common room of the club, “I believe you can find the way without my help.”

  “Thank you,” Aerin murmured. Then, with a deep, steadying breath, she turned and entered through the door that would take her deeper into Fetish.

  The corridor that led from the Madame’s office to the wide, open space of the first sitting room was short and wide. It was decorated with a couple of large paintings, reproductions of pre-Raphaelite artists like Waterhouse or Rossetti from the look of them. They were lovely, and seemed dreamy and surreal to her eyes.

  Dreamy and surreal. Both words were a perfect description for how she felt as she entered the common room, where a dozen or so clients already lounged with their escorts.

  The room was a large, nearly circular construction, decorated in luxurious hues and fabrics. There were several doors, some were opened and some were closed. An open coupling of large oak doors leading out to a well-kept garden let in a nice, cool, night breeze. Oddly, there were no windows here, and where there appeared room and position for one, a giant tapestry or painting graced the wall instead.

  There were four plain-fronted doors set in the walls—all of them were closed—and these led deeper into the bowels of the mansion. Violanti had led her through one of them on her last visit, taking her into the tiny hallway that would lead them to the Green door.

  It seemed that behind most doors in this palace there lay a corridor to yet another door. And beyond that…Aerin wasn’t sure.

  In this room there was another set of double doors. These were exceptionally wide so that they nearly swallowed the breadth of the wall they were set into, and they had been opened to reveal another sitting room beyond it. That room was not unlike this one. Aerin knew, from her previous tour, that there were at least two other chambers like this one. Rooms in which the clients were free to roam about unattended…as they were not allowed to enter the doors leading to the inner sanctums without an escort.

  There were rules here. Aerin sensed they were sacred ones, not to be broken. She wondered idly if there were bouncers in a place such as this, for surely there must be, somewhere. Though she’d yet to notice any. No doubt in the past at least one or two clients had tried to bend the rules and had been thrown out by the faceless security personnel.

  And if not by bouncers then by something worse.

  Now where did that thought come from, Aerin wondered? Of all things, Fetish did not seem to be a threatening place. Well…not entirely. Aerin shook her head to clear it. There was an undercurrent here of mys
tery and danger…but that sort of thing went hand and hand with a place like Fetish. There was nothing more to it than that. Surely.

  Aerin felt the need for a quick dose of courage and reached for the nearest available glass of champagne—Cristal, as usual. It seemed the invisible owner of this place had a taste for the stuff, or knew his patrons would. She wondered what type of man could own and operate such an establishment as Fetish. What would he be like? Arrogant, sophisticated, spoiled, and filthy rich, most likely.

  Her eyes swept the room, briefly meeting those of another patron, a dark-haired blue-eyed man dressed in jeans and a blazer. They nodded to each other, a polite gesture, and quickly looked away. Aerin raised her glass, throat dry. The drink was crisp and refreshing, chilled to perfection…but it was not enough to calm the trembles and quakes that continued to shake her composure.

  “Back again, I see.”

  Aerin turned and found Violanti standing alarmingly close, though she hadn’t even heard his approach. Her eyes rose up and up to meet his. She’d forgotten how tall he was. Among other things. His long black hair was thick and shimmering down about his shoulders. She’d forgotten just how soft it looked, but now the memories assailed her with the force of a storm wind blowing across the wastelands of her mind.

  That hair had brushed across her skin like a thousand caressing fingers. With every move he’d made, so close to her that night, his hair had kissed her. His breath had kissed her. And where those two did not caress, he’d used his lips and fingers and honeyed words to assuage the loss.

  It was her own prudish reluctance that had kept them from going further than their fully clothed touching. Well, she’d been fully clothed but he…he’d been scrumptiously disheveled after masturbating before her.

  Masturbating…she remembered it all so clearly now, these things that should have been like detailed flames in her memories this past week. Gawd, he’d been so incredibly sexy, so unbelievably open and shameless with her. And she’d turned away from joining him in those moments? And from the invitation he’d offered after?

  What a fool she’d been.

  With a jerk she knew was visible she tore herself back to his softly rumbled greeting. “Yeah, I’m back,” she said lamely.

  “So I see.” That smile of his—part mockery, part humor, all sensuality—was a sweet memory all its own. How could she have forgotten all of this? “May I share company with you, Mistress?”

  She snorted, her hands flying up too late cover the sound she couldn’t contain. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t usually so emotive, was always too busy hiding herself in the crowd, trying to avoid notice. Controlling herself, but barely, she lowered her hands and swallowed a panicked laugh.

  “I thought we were beyond the Mistress thing. Or…don’t you remember my name?” It wouldn’t be forgivable of him; after all, she’d forgotten his a half-dozen times over the past week.

  His smile broadened, revealing a blaze of strong, white teeth. His parents must have paid a fortune in braces for such a smile. She winced mentally at the thought; even in her mind she was showing her age. It came from being older than her escort, she supposed, though she’d tried until now not to dwell on it much.

  But how old was he, really? She couldn’t have said, though she did feel older and was quite certain she was. But…? Violanti was possessed of the kind of face that held an ageless quality. He could be in his mid to late twenties…he could be nearer to forty, though she doubted it. It was his eyes, more than anything else, that gave him a sort of greater age. They seemed to be ancient, worldly, and very knowing. He would look only slightly different in his dotage, of this she had no doubt. His impeccable breeding and his clearly exotic heritage would see to that.

  “I remember everything, Aerin.” He reached out, offering her his hand, palm up. Like a gallant knight begging his lady for a favor. His hair moved again, revealing a quick glimpse of the silver talon piercing his ear lobe. “Will you come with me, or no? I have much to show you tonight, if you would be with me.”

  Her heart warmed and she forgot to be cautious. “What will you show me?” She gave him her hand, felt it enveloped by that cool, hard strength.

  “Everything, if you’ll allow me.” His eyes—those glorious, magical eyes—shimmered with their ever-changing color.

  A hot shiver raced down her spine. A primitive warning sounded its call in her deepest heart. It was swiftly discarded, far too swiftly for her to take heed. Her escort was too potently sexual for her to care for or even really take note of such warnings.

  He pulled her close to his side, openly inhaled her scent, and closed his eyes as if in bliss. “You’re headier than wine, do you know that?”

  Her breath bubbled into a soft, nervous laugh. He had a way with words that was both disarming and thrilling.

  “I’ll grow drunk off you if I’m not careful,” he teased. Clearly it must be teasing. This was what he did for a living, after all, teasing and titillating older women. “And already I know that one taste of you is not enough for a glutton such as I.”

  “You don’t need that silver tongue with me,” she said with a smile, though she did so love his flirting. It was just that she felt there was something more to this play, something she didn’t quite understand, and it made her more than a little uncomfortable. She was out of her league and knew it, not that it mattered much this far into the game.

  “Oh, but you’ve yet to know the full pleasure of my silver tongue, Mistress.” The twinkle in his eyes was both wicked and hot. “Perhaps, before this night is over, you’ll feel differently about it.”

  It was nearly impossible to hold at bay the girlish giggle that tickled the back of her throat, demanding release. But somehow she managed. Good grief, what is wrong with me lately? She hadn’t the faintest idea.

  And the hell with it, she didn’t care. She was, in fact, having the best damn time of her life.

  “What have you got planned for this evening?” she asked, surprised at how easy this byplay was between them. She would be content to do pretty much anything he asked tonight. The thought of what he might ask, what he would likely ask, made her shiver delicately with anticipation.

  He chuckled, his long black hair spilling out about his shoulders and arms. She’d forgotten how long it was. And with his small movement, the scent of him reached her, conquered her, drugged her senses. Cinnamon and almond and his own unique perfume; it was a delicious, sinful combination. Her womb felt heavy, hot, and tight with a desperate longing. “Pleasure. Always pleasure with you, Aerin my sweet.”

  He took her hand in a firmer grip and led her through the room, to one of the doors set into the walls. This door opened before him, as if automated, and closed silently behind them. They were in another room now, a small sort of sitting room, decorated with a small couch, chair and ottoman. There was a lone door set in the wall, nothing else. Its color was a deep royal blue, and Aerin had a strong compulsion to open it and see what lay beyond the azure barrier.

  “As you know, Fetish caters to the hedonistic urges of its clients. Here any pleasure can be found, though sexual pleasures are, of course, more popular than any other, and expected.” From his great height towering above her, he bent his head and pressed a chaste kiss atop her head before pulling back and staring at the door before them with a pensive look.

  “The last time you were here, I learned a great deal about who you are. About your desires and longings, though you tried so hard to hide them.” He sounded disappointed in that, but continued in his deep and lilting voice. “I have an almost certain idea of what you would like to gain from your visits here. Of what will bring you the most pleasure. But I must give you a choice before I take control of this situation. Before I can better guide you on your journey.”

  “What do you mean?” she frowned.

  He turned fully to her, tilting her head up with a finger beneath her chin, so that their eyes met. The color of his irises changed with dizzying rapidity. “You can choose
many different paths to explore here, more than you can imagine. You should know what they are before we go farther. I feel that I know you well enough to guide you from here, but I could be wrong. I will not take the chance and ruin your enjoyment of this place.”

  “Go on,” she urged, curious.

  “Our clients tell us what they want and we make their wishes come true. It’s our purpose. But you are different, you are more reserved. In fact, I don’t think you really know what you want beyond happiness, that intangible yet incredibly powerful state of being. Happiness you’ll get, I promise that, but a taste of adventure is what I most want to give you. So for you there will be a journey, from a shy and untouched innocent to—I hope—a sultry and confident woman who knows and delights in every aspect of her sensuality. Both as a person, and a lover, in equal measure. I would guide you on that journey. But as I said before, I will ask you your preferences first.

  “We have many rooms in this place, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now. And inside each one there will be a different world of pleasure to be discovered. For you, I have chosen rooms that, I feel, are best suited to arousing your deepest sensual being. But there are rooms that are also suited to arouse your curiosity and…other things. I would avoid those this early into your journey, though I will ask you now what your preferences are, as they are the most important.”

  He smiled that secretive, satyr’s smile of his and things deep in her breasts and belly tightened and yearned. “Our name is not Fetish merely because of whimsy. If you were to enter all the doors in this place you would eventually have seen every deviant’s fantasy come to life and more. For you, I choose the softer, more feminine aspects of Fetish, because I believe you are soft and feminine through and through.