Brothel

As the tiny minute hand on her delicate Chanel watch crawled towards 12:00am, Skye urged it to move faster. She shivered beneath her heavy pea-coat, feeling her n*****s perk in response to the bitter cold. She glanced at her emmaculate pedicured toes to verify they were still there because she couldn't actually feel them. They peeked out from her strappy peep-toe heels, and she sighed in relief when she confirmed they were in tact. Not for long, she thought. In haste she eyed her watch, thankful she had approximately thirty-five seconds before she could ascend the steps to the looming doorway.

            When the hand struck twelve Skye teetered up the small set of stairs on her five inch heels. She thought of her company waiting on the other side, most likely just behind the door. Pulling out a small mirror she used the porch light to give herself a once-over before ringing the bell. One...two...three...four... she counted eash passing second. If she wasn't let in in fifty-five seconds exactly she was turning around and never coming back. Skye wasn't one to wait; people waited for her, not the other way around.

            Finally the door creaked open, warm air blasting her in the face. She gave Brett the one-over, inevitably deciding Brett was suitable. Brett's short hair was fire-engine red and had a small golden hoop through the left nostril. Alternative, but attractive none-the-less. The outfit could use some work, but that was no problem; Skye lived and breathed fashion.

            She sauntered inside surveying the small house. Brett had antiques mixed with a modern edge; black carpeting with mostly white furniture. A grand piano stood glorified in the corner, a long-haired tabby cat sat perched atop it. Oh no, that won't do. She placed a thin white manilla envelope onto the Baltic chest that stood in the doorway. Skye recognized it's origin because she had one of similiar style herself. It was then that she finally turned to aknowledge Brett.

            "You have an interesting offer? I'd like to hear it." Skye settled into a plush white seat.

            Brett looked unabashed at her forwardness. "Yes ma'am. I'd like to offer my services," Brett stared into her silver eyes, "...for you."

            "And what type of services might that be?"

            "I'm better at showing than telling."

            Skye liked this little game of cat-and-mouse. She hadn't come here to be offered anything, she's the one who'd come to negotiate. However it was growing tiresome and she wished to get on with it.

            "Enough with the chatter. Let's get down to business. See that envelope over there? I want you to open it and follow its instructions carefully. You have fifteen minutes exactly to perform the first task for me." She let this sink in. "Do you understand? And I'd hurry. Your time started twenty-seconds ago."

            As Brett scurried into the other room she stood up and removed her coat. She spotted a full length mirror at the opposite end of the room and swayed over to it. Skye gazed longingly at her own body. Her narcissism had grown overwhelming in recent years and had turned her into a nymph. Her slinky black dress barely covered her a*s and the neckline was daringly low. A diamond-encrusted pendant dangled from a silver chain, resting in her cleavage. She traced the tops of her breasts down to where her navel showed off another piece of jewelry. My body is a wonderland. She smirked to herself, admiring her long bronzed legs.

            Skye thought back to when she was younger. She'd been raised by her father and though he'd done his best they were poor. Very poor. He ruled her with an iron fist, never allowing her out of his sight. When she entered high-school he'd be there everyday at exactly thirty-minutes before class let out. If she didn't get to his car before five-minutes after she was interrogated and more often than not punished when she got home. Anything ranging from no dinner to "entertaining" his friends. He never touched her, no. But she didn't know if it was worse that he allowed his friends to take free-reign of her body while he watched, touching himself.

            Cringing at the thought she pushed it aside, trying to focus on the task at hand. God graced me with this beautiful body and I intend to use it. She stole a glance at her watch. Three more minutes. She'd better hurry. Skye returned to the doorway, wanting to be in full view of Brett when the task had been accomplished. When she moved a framed photgraph caught her eye. There were four girls, all of the same age, beaming at the camera. Each had their own individuality that popped out from the photo. So those are the others, she thought to herself. She heard a door shut at the end of the hall and a figure approached her, slowly stepping out from the shadows of the dimlit hall.

            Skye was astonished at the beauty that stood before her. Just fifteen minutes ago Brett had been wearing simple jeans and a white tank top, looking more like a Calvin Klein model than what Skye had in store for her. Now she'd transformed into a glamorous seductress. Her fire-red hair had been straightened into an angled bob, her bangs sweeping across her porcelain skin. She squinted to make out the color of Brett's eyes, but as she flipped her hair the light caught them and glittered like two emeralds.

            "You've done well for your first task." Skye showed no hint of appraisal, not yet. I can't disclose my pleasure yet. It's too soon.

            Brett nodded as Skye took in her selected outfit. Her jade green dress hugged her curves and brought emphasis to her perky breasts in a sweet-heart neckline. She shorter than Skye but her long limbs didn't betray her. A bit on the pale side, but there are some who enjoy this sort.

            "Off with it. Let's have a loot at what's beneath it all." Pass this test my porcelain doll and you will have completed yet another task.

            Without a word Brett threw Skye a seductive stare then snaked her arm behind her bag and slowly unzipped her zipper. The top of her dress loosened at the touch and she allowed it to slide to her hips. Once she pushed the scrunched jersey fabric over her hips it fell to the ground. Instead of stepping out of it she bent entirely in half without bending her knees before stepping out, then grabbing the dress and draping it over a chair. She wore a standard push-up bra with a matching garter belt.

            Skye frowned. "Lose the garter belt. That's nonsense." Overdone. Simplicity is key to sexiness, she thought to herself, men are incapable of working those sorts of contraptions.

            Brett redened but removed the garter. Skye stared with intensity at her body. She strode forward to get a closer look, scrutinizing every inch of her milky skin. Brett stood rigid, a different girl from the one who'd just given a sexy striptease. As she did a final turn Skye stood satisfied in front of her, finally allowing a smile to creep onto her lips.

            "You've passed two of three of my tests."

            "Three? But you've only given me one."

            "One that you've known. I've been studying other things without your knowledge. Had you known you would have behaved differently, thus creating an image. Everything you did was simply you." Skye squinted her almond shaped eyes. "With the exception of one thing. That lacy thing on the ground there, the garter, wasn't you. Why did you choose that?

            Brett seemed confused. "Well I like it..."

            "Tell me the truth."

            Abashed, Brett stammered with anxiety creeping into her voice. "I'm not sure I follow."

            "I've been examining you since I walked into your house. Everything from that Baltic chest to the hairball residing on your grand piano. You wore a tiny golden hoop through your nose when I arrived and yet I don't see it now. I also saw a small star tattoo on your inner wrist when I arrived though it seems to have disappeared..." Skye trailed off.

            "I don't--"

            "Initially I was very impressed. You have an edge I've been seeking. An alternative approach to simplicity that I thoroughly enjoyed. And yet you seem to have hidden your true self in order to please me, have you not?" When Brett didn't reply Skye continued, "I am continuously seeking women of all types for my... occupation. No two women who work for me are the same. If I wished for this my service would be like any other in this field. No, I am searching for individuals who ecompass a certain style - their own."

            "Excuse me but you offered me an invitation into this exclusive society of yours," Brett countered. Her confused expression turned into one of aggravation.

            Skye smiled. Perfect. She is progressing through task four. "Do you even know what sort of invitation you accepted? Or what profession I am in exactly?" Brett once again seemed lost. Got you. "For nearly ten years now I have been running an underground brothel for wealthy men. I have over one-hundred women working for me; all of different ethnicity, size, and style. A man may pick whomever he likes and pay, according to the service he wishes, upwards of a million dollars a night. Some of my girls make even more."

            Brett backed away, her mouth formed in a small O. She grasped for a small throw that was draped across a nearby chair and wrapped herself in the blanket. "Excuse me? You're telling me you work for a w***e-house and you are offering me employment?" She shook her head vehemotly. "Absolutely not. When I met you we were at a night-club. You told me you owned the club. I thought you were looking for a dancer, not some s**t to sleep with men for cash. No way."

            "Your reaction is expected. All of my girls had close to the same when they initially discovered my true line of work. I assure you, my brothel is done in extreme taste--"

            "How tasteful can it be? You are in essence a hooker."

            "If you'd allow me finish I could explain the details."

            Brett sighed, clearly exhausted with the situation. Skye took the window of opportunity and continued. "Each of my girls are individuals, as I very clearly stated before. Due to this they choose their limits. Some offer services such as intense as sadomachinism while others set their limits at a sexy striptease, much like what you did for me earlier." She allowed this to sink into Brett's mind. "This is why I have so many women working for me, to allow any man's fantasy to be fulfilled. Mind you, those who are willing to set their limits higher tend to get paid bigger numbers, but none of my girls make less than $10,000 a night." Skye could tell this perked Brett's interested. "However, I can tell you remain uninterested. I won't keep you." She turned for the door, sliding her arms into her coat and making out way out.

            One...two...three... in less time than it had taken Brett to answer her door she'd come after Skye, grabbing for her hand.

            "Look forget what I said earlier. I have some student loans I'd love to pay off, and if what you say is true I'd be able to do it in less than a week with some lap-dances." She looked at Skye through her emerald eyes, hesitance clouding them.

            Once again Skye smiled. "My beauty, this isn't for you. If you'd been interested you would have expressed it to begin with."

            "You said so yourself that every girl you've chosen has reacted the same way as me! You hadn't explained the details, I didn't realize what it really was." Skye pretended to think this over, furrowing her brow in feign concern. Got you.

            "If you say so. There is some preliminary paperwork that you would need to fill out," when Brett didn't respond Skye added, "privacy protocol. I need to protect my girls."

            "Of course!" Brett replied with a little too much enthusiasm.

            "Perfect. Here's my business card with my cell number. You can reach me at any time." She noticed Brett staring at the address. "Oh that isn't where my business is if that's what you're wondering. I'll disclose that information to you once you sign the forms. We can set up an arangement at your convenience when you contact me. It was such a pleasure to meet you Brett." Before she could respond, Skye turned on her Jimmy Choo heels and returned the way she'd come. One down, three more to go.