The Satyr

by Tiana Laveen

  That made it all the richer, satisfying and rewarding when he’d fucked the shit out of Charlotte for spite’s sake a couple years ago in her husband’s own bed before the ink on their divorce decree was even dry.

  “Charlotte!” he called out, laughing and surveying the crowded grounds. He looked towards Harper, the weakest link.

  He’ll crack.

  “Little help here, motherfucker?” He regarded the young guy, a wet-behind-the-ears attorney. He was a good kid, the newest member of the firm for whom Nixon served as a mentor of sorts. The man smirked, his perfectly coifed blond hair and blue eyes gleaming in the light. Then the bastard shook his head and looked away. “Oh, so that’s how you’re gonna leave me, huh?” Nixon’s jaw tightened as he cocked his head to the side. “Tell me where the hell she is or I’ll break your fuckin’ legs then make ya hire me to work out your settlement.”

  All three guys burst out laughing.

  “You can’t Mafia your way out of this, Nixon,” Tex teased with his infamous Italian jokes. “Go get her or I will, if you fail. I wouldn’t mind a little red Riding Hood to round out my night. I’m married, not dead.”

  “As if she’d ever have you,” he said with a wink.

  “We’ll see, tough guy. Finders keepers.” Tex teased as he downed the last of his beer as if he were a plant needing watered. “No help for you.”

  “Stay out of this,” Nixon warned, waving a finger at him. “Harper, man to man, let’s make a deal. I’ve got a hundred dollars riding on this.” He threw him a dazzling smile.

  “That’s chump change for you, muscle-head,” Tex retorted, not letting up.

  “And you’re just a big chump who’s ready for a change to your fuckin’ face from these fists if you keep interrupting my fuckin’ conversation.”

  Tex’s eyes darkened. He poked his chest out like he was interested in escalating the situation, getting off that bar stool and trying something he might regret. Then, Nixon shot him a look and the man paused. Don’t even try it… Nixon was a gym rat and kept in tip top shape. The other guy wasn’t buff but big, a powerhouse, but ate like shit from sun up to sun down and was often out of breath from walking just a couple of blocks. They called him Tex because he was as big as Texas, a half-decent guy and great lawyer, too, but had a tendency to be passive aggressive towards him and a few other fellow attorneys, a trait Nixon truly hated.

  Tex enjoyed calling him a meathead or Italian meatball because of his love of working out. True, Nixon loved being in the gym or using his own home equipment; it helped him blow off steam and also kept him fit for his late-night activities. On top of that, he was a 10th degree black belt in Judo, and everyone knew it since he kept some of the trophies for various competition wins in his office.

  “Harper, which way did the little cherry go? I’ll give ya half… What do you say?” he tried to whisper to Harper, but his voice came out louder than intended.

  “I can’t!” Harper chuckled. “She’ll kill me. Charlotte is scary.” Nixon rolled his eyes. “You disgust me… what a pussy.”

  He continued on his hunt. She couldn’t have gotten too far.

  His eyes began to blur from the dizzying lights. The tart and sweet flavor of the wine repeated on his pallet as he stepped around in the fleshy fog of arms and legs attached to inebriated patrons.

  “Charlotte, come to Papa, silly little red rabbit,” he goaded.

  His eyes pierced the darkness, then the flash of lights in the bar. He peered at a couple pressed against the wall, the man running his hand between the woman’s legs, seemingly oblivious that they were in full view. Nixon chuckled.

  He went on, then after a few moments, his phone vibrated in his suit pocket. He went ahead and answered the call. “Yup,” he spoke over the noise in the tavern.

  “Raze! So glad you answered. Baby, I know you requested more than once to be notified at least forty-eight hours in advance about last-minute requests and appointments, but we have a special invite for you tonight.”

  “Ahhh, sweetheart.” He grinned. “I can’t do it tonight, Taz.” He looked around the place. No sign of the red herring. Damn Charlotte was a good hider.

  “Please!”

  “I’m at a shindig, ya know? Having a good time,” he answered, hand on hip. “I promised my friends I’d be here. A colleague of mine got a promotion and it’s his birthday, so we all came out to celebrate.”

  “Raze, I know the timing is not the best, and I’m sorry, but this invite you may want to reconsider.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She’s an A-lister. Popular. A lesbian, too.”

  “I know I’m going to regret asking this,” he said with a huff. “But what does she want?”

  “She’s curious, wants to know what it’s like to cum with a man. To fuck a man and all that entails. But it can’t just be anyone. She needs it to be discreet, someone trustworthy, and also, someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. A pro. Of course you came highly recommended for such a job.” She chuckled. “Your reputation is making the rounds.”

  “Hmmm, I see. I really don’t care that she’s famous, but it’s interesting nevertheless. Who is she?” He slicked his tongue along his lower lip as he kept trying to find the lady hiding in the crowd, moving steadily amongst the patrons.

  “You know I can’t tell you her real name until you get here. Policy. Anyway, it comes as no surprise that she’s heard about you. She mentioned ‘Raze’ specifically in the survey. She is willing to pay whatever you ask.”

  “Pay?” He huffed. “Come on, don’t do that. I hate that. You know I don’t charge for this, Taz. That’s not why I do it. I’m not a fuckin’ prostitute. This is a service. I do it to help. Period.”

  “I know you don’t do it for compensation. Money isn’t your motivation… I love that about you. You’re dedicated, passionate about this shit. That’s probably why you’re in such high demand, Raze, and I can barely keep up with your schedule.”

  “Buttering me up will get you everywhere,” he joked, drawing a giggle from the woman.

  “You’re an amazing Satyr. I know we nicknamed you that years ago as a joke of sorts, but it stuck, and it fits. You’re seriously amazing at what you do. Anyway, the reason I brought up the money to show you just how motivated she is. She’s scared, too, Raze, but she really wants to do this. From my understanding, she plans to get married soon. She wants this out of the way beforehand, just to experience it before she takes her vows. Her partner is aware of this. No secrets.”

  “Does her girlfriend want to watch me fuck her?” He’d had such requests before.

  “No. She’ll stay back at their hotel tonight.”

  He moved among the crowd looking for a woman in a tight green dress, her ivory skin and vibrant blue eyes hidden in the shadows, perhaps below a table or cowering in a corner, waiting to be discovered like some Hollywood starlet.

  “Has she been screened? You know I don’t take any appointments without the person having had a full medical check.” He ran his hand along his jaw as he debated whether he should do the job or not.

  “Yes. Her test results arrived this afternoon, actually. I wouldn’t have called you without doing that first. She has a clean bill of health, no STIs, history of eating disorders, diseases or viruses, and no records of mental illness, either.”

  He sighed, looked at the time on his phone, then brought it back up to his ear.

  “What does she look like?”

  “Your favorite…” He could hear her smile through the phone. “She’s built like a damn brick house, man. Tall. Big ass. Dark cat-like eyes. Soft, feminine voice when speaking, confident… She’s an actress. Acclaimed. Sexy. Big movies, too, not shit no one has ever heard of. When you find out who she is, you’ll lose your shit. I didn’t even know she was gay! She hasn’t officially come out the closet, either. I was pleasantly surprised.”

  “Hmmm, interesting.” He stroked his chin. “So, is she really a virgin in the heterosexual sense
? She’s never been actually penetrated by a cock? Not talkin’ about dildos and vibrators, shit like that. I mean an actual, real life dick?”

  “Nope. Never.” He spotted a flash of green, shimmery fabric. His lips curled as he left the loud kitchen area.

  “Did you uh… did you tell her that I, uh… does she know I’m not exactly…”

  Taz burst out laughing.

  “Boy! I know you are not suddenly trying to be modest?! Over there stuttering!”

  He laughed. “It’s not that, baby. You know me. I’m just in a public place is all and I’ve moved over to an area that is less noisy. Don’t want to be overheard. Trying to keep the convo discrete.”

  “Understood. Yes, she knows you are packin’ like a mothafucka. You have a huge fucking dick, with your arrogant, sexy Italian ass, and this is not a game. She’s quite aware. And yeah, yeah, I know your mama is half Greek, but you are full-blown Guido when you are Raze, in my book.”

  “All right,” he said, amused. “That means this’ll take a while. Since she’s never been penetrated, this could take hours, Taz. It’s not something you want to rush. Shit.” He stroked his chin, the lights spinning faster and faster around him.

  “I know. And knowing you, you want to make it special for her. Is it too much to handle tonight? With the party and all and having to get ready on such short notice? I can see if—”

  “Nah, It’s fine. It’s cool. I’ll do it.”

  “Great!”

  “Email her information to me so I can memorize it, all right? Do it ASAP.”

  “I’ll take care of it right away. I’ll let her know. She’s in town. She’s only like an hour away.”

  “Give me a couple of hours though, you know, to get ready and get over there.” He ran his hand over his face, dreading having to dash on his friends. “Gotta go home, shower again, get dressed in a way that I believe matches the situation, then I’ll head on over to The Cage. When she arrives, send her to the masseuse and the bath house area, immediately. Give her some red roses and tell her they’re from me. It’ll help get the ball rolling. I want the white room in the corner on the third floor. You know which one I am talking about.”

  “You got it.”

  “The sheets on the bed need to be white and soft, too. High thread-count. Have candles lit just before she arrives. No wine. Bottled waters, teas… She needs to be clear-headed. Have her pick out a lube of her choice and give her one of those herbal pills for relaxation, the ones with the evening primrose in them. Whatever music she likes that she mentioned on the survey, have it playing before I even get there. Afterwards, she may be a little sore, especially if she wants anal, too, so just in case, have a couple aspirin in the room, too.”

  “Let me grab my iPad to get all of this down… Okay, continue.”

  “Make sure her change of clothing is cotton and loose. Put a few pantyliners in a satchel, just in case, for spotting, you know. That’s something she can take with her. She may or may not need them. Everyone is different. After we’re through, I will dress her myself. I also will give her a going-away present after we’re finished, a necklace, so get my jewelry box out of my locker and grab the pink box with the heart pendant. Oh, one more thing. Make sure I have a pink sash to wrap the top sheet in, in case she wants to keep it like some of them do. Things like that will save me a little time, since this is probably going to be an all-nighter.”

  “Bet. Got it. It will all be prepared before you get here. Thank you! See you soon.” He disconnected the call and marched towards the ladies’ room. ‘Rejoice in Love’ by Bacon Popper blasted through the speakers as he found his target crouching down low in the distance. He pulled a chair out of the way, nearly toppling it over to expose her. He bent down and wrapped his ringed hand around Charlotte’s long neck. By the look in her eyes, she was completely blindsided and hadn’t noticed him approach. He yanked her up from the floor towards him like a yo-yo. Depositing a hard kiss on her cheek, he released her then looked into her eyes.

  “Hey, honey, I know we were gonna hang out tonight, but I can’t.”

  “Noooo!” She pouted.

  “It’s been fun, but I have to go.” He grabbed his wallet from his jacket pocket, pulled out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill, and gave it to her as he kissed her this time on the lips. “Keep this anyway. You did a damn good job. Have fun tonight, okay? Tell the guys I had to head out, but I’ll catch up with them soon.” He began to walk backwards. “Enjoy your night.”

  “Aww, don’t do this to us, Nix! We haven’t seen you in months!” She tossed up her hands, angst scribbled across her lovely face.

  “I know, baby, I know.” He shrugged, then dug in his pants pockets and retrieved his car keys. “I miss you all, too. I’ll make it up to ya, I promise.”

  “You suck!” She smirked and rocked back and forth on her heels, clearly tipsy. “Where are you going, Nixon?” Her voice was softer now… longing. Her eyes grew sad.

  “That’s my business, baby,” he said with a smile and a wink, then turned on his heels and walked out the bar, heading towards his limited-edition black Lotus Esprit. Nixon got into the car and lit a joint. “Turn on, ‘Driving Home Mix’.” The stereo instantly belted out ‘Brown,’ by Kyle Dion. He bobbed his head to the sultry, funky retro beat as he weaved through downtown Chicago traffic, on a mission to show an unplucked, never-been-dicked-downed or fucked, fresh flower a damn good time…

  CHAPTER TWO

  You Thought About Me.

  I Thought About You.

  Mahalia’s ‘Grateful’ played through the speakers on low within the gray and teal bedroom of Yasmine’s downtown Chicago condo on South Sangamon Street. The music streamed like tiny fingers plucking the keys of her mind, coaxing her to sway to the beat and sing the lyrics. The sweet smell of mixed berry incense filled the space, merging with the scent of the waffles she’d made earlier that morning, and drenched in maple syrup.

  She made herself comfortable at her long silver coffee table, sitting on the freshly vacuumed floor, cross-legged. She had her paperwork spread out before her, the table cluttered with colorful sticky notes, documents, her notebook, and laptop. Reaching out for her coffee cup, she took a sip and grimaced.

  “Ugh!” She gasped, fighting laughter and disgust simultaneously. “Damn, that was foul.” She stuck out her tongue and placed the cup back down. “I really messed this pot up this morning. Goodness. Maybe that coffee is just no good? I hadn’t made any of it for a while. Can coffee expire? I imagine it can. Geesh.”

  She shook her head and refocused. She had to look over her newest client’s case. Cheng Lim was an Asian drug dealer who hailed from Singapore. As a criminal attorney, she’d had all sorts of people walk through her office door in need of assistance. Some were innocent, some were guilty. It didn’t matter; she was hired to defend them either way.

  As she scanned the report, his criminal history and the like, she kept coming back to the name of Nixon…

  One of the witnesses had that surname, and they’d stated they had seen her client engaging in a drug transaction in Lincoln Park. She paused and closed her eyes then, her entire body tingling, from her scalp down to the bottoms of her freshly pedicured feet, when the memories assaulted her senses.

  Nixon. Yeah, that was his name…

  It had been a couple of months since she’d filled out that survey online, obtained her special invitation and visited The Cage. The experience at that clandestine nightclub had left her shaken and stirred. Despite all she had conjured up with her own inventiveness over her thirty-seven years, The Cage was nothing like she’d ever imagined.

  The place was massive, not quite secluded, enigmatic – a secret world in plain view. It was decorated like something out of a pulsating, wet dream. Decorated in seductive shades of dark red, gold, and metallic black accents, it gave an illusion of glamour, danger, allure, luxury and kink all at once. The furniture inside of the club was modern and a bit wicked, dripping with a gothic flair. Of course
, she’d not toured every area; she could only imagine what she’d missed behind closed doors. The people within those walls represented all races, shapes, and sizes. Whips sat in glass shadow boxes on the walls, like art pieces in some museum, along with displays of lace panties belonging to some underwear fetish group on full display.

  Nothing that was consensual appeared to be off the menu. In this place, your most wicked fantasies could be brought to fruition with the flash of a gold member’s card. She’d never seen so many people screwing each other’s brains out in plain view, with little to no regard of their surroundings. Fucking, sucking, biting and smacking flesh… coated in sweat, desperate for the next second of euphoria like an addict feening for the next high. Despite it all, she couldn’t deny the truth. It had been definitely, hands down, one of the best days of her entire life…

  Sometimes, it felt like it had all been a dream, as if it had never happened to her at all. Maybe something she’d dreamt up, let play in her skull like a movie on repeat. But it had happened. Every lurid second of it, for her body remembered him the next day, and the day after that. He was inside of her. Always.

  Raze.

  He had sealed her soul with a craving kiss. Occasionally, when reaching for her vibrator to give herself a bit of pleasure, she’d spot his business card in her nightstand drawer amongst the expired pizza coupons, crinkled grocery store receipts, and pens that had run dry. It was always there hidden in the pile like an old memory, the white card with the red rose, quickly drawing her back into the harshness of reality as it peeked out just so amongst the mess, begging to be seen. No matter how she tried to shake it, she still longed for him and worse yet, he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Not by a long shot.

  The facts were facts, and these merged with her yearning, creating a frustrating fusion in her mind that would bring all of her sexual tension to a head. So many times she’d needed to work her vibrating toy against her slippery clit until she came, shaking and falling to pieces against her cool white satin sheets.