This is another story I've been sitting on... I do tend to write a few beginnings, then life takes over. Again this different from the last couple of stories. While not extreme—it does touch on BDSM themes. Just an advanced warning if it isn't your cup of tea.
--
She leafed through the applications on the desk, the white sheets stark against the mahogany. Rubbing her temples, she started again. They were all starting to look the same. After seven years she was starting to question whether this was something she still wanted to do, although those thoughts often disappeared with the soft swoosh of the door sliding closed behind her. In her charcoal domain, where polished concrete gleamed against dimmed downlights and the coarse brickwork was covered with traces of invisible epithelials.
She picked up the phone. "Valerie, are these all the applications?"
"Yes, I believe so... Did you receive the ones in your intray?"
She look to her intray and sighed, seeing another stack of papers. "Sorry Valerie, I missed them."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm just tired today. Thank you." She hung up and leaned over, lifting the stack from her intray and placing it on top of the existing file.
She referred a client to another house. By that, it meant she'd turned him loose. Now she was looking through her referrals to replace him, but therein lay the question. Did she really need to replace him?
--
Everett gave Jonathan a bemused look before putting his hands behind his head leaning back in his chair.
Jonathan's face wore a cryptic grin. "Well?"
"Well what?"
Jonathan shrugged. "Well nothing... I guess." He left it hanging in the air.
Everett's head tilted back as his dark eyes feigned a look of indifference. "Okay, tell me."
Jonathan looked towards Everett's door and then walked over to close it. "Well then, what do you give a guy who has everything?"
Everett shrugged.
"You'd think nothing, because he already has everything, but he hasn't experienced everything."
Everett nodded his head in agreement. "That's true."
"So this, what I'm offering you is an experience. Well I'm not so much offering it, a good friend of mine is referring you, on the proviso you want to of course."
"And if I don't?"
"No love lost, I suppose. The referral was available. I will tell you this, they say it's like nothing else."
"Really? Aren't there at least a dozen places in town that I could get this?"
Jonathan put his hands in the pockets of his light grey slacks. "Possibly. It depends on what you're after and besides, there's no guarantee that you'll be selected."
Everett raised an eyebrow. "Selected?"
"Yes. Apparently there's a waiting list."
"What's the catch?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, say I was interested in this sort of thing, what would I be expected to encounter."
"Oh, that's the thing, it's discreet and exclusive and considering the subject matter, I'm sure there would a lot of reluctance to discuss it. They don't mind revealing what they think they know, but there's no way they'd admit it, well probably not to the outside world. I can tell you it's one on one and she is a woman."
Everett rubbed his chin. "Okay. Only because I'm curious, but honestly, don't expect anything. I wouldn't be surprised if I walked right in and out again."
Jonathan's blue eyes glinted, his broad white smile, suddenly challenging. "You are the man with everything. Happy birthday."
--
Selene rifled through the second set of papers and then stopped, slowly going backwards.
Everett Armitage.
She scanned down the page. He was younger than the submissions she normally received, early thirties. Unfortunately the rest of it was the same: high achiever, driven, determined. Weren't they all. She knew when she had decided to pursue this that this was exactly the type of clientele that she had targeted, but they were all the same. They came to her defiant, but undone by the truth of what they really wanted. At first she had loved it, being able to give them what they needed, but after awhile it became apparent she wasn't getting what she needed. A big part of that was her fault, she knew that. Her rules that she thought were necessary and that she'd enforced thinking they would protect both her and her clients became the very barrier that also denied her. In many ways, it was a good thing, teaching her to compartmentalise. Without it, she'd be no good to her clients and possibly hurt them and herself in the process. It didn't mean that she didn't care, it just meant when she stepped onto the other side of the sliding door, she could leave it in her domain.
As she stared absent-mindedly at the piece of paper, something else caught her eye. He almost had no interest. She frowned, that couldn't be right. She looked again. No, it was right. He never visited or partaken in anything. He had no particular fetishes that he could think of. History showed: yes to threesomes, yes to porn, yes to anal and strictly hetero. There must have been some mistake. She looked over his application again. No one ever submitted their application without some sort of desire and then again no one ever submitted without somewhat knowing what they were getting themselves into.
She smiled, maybe he just didn't know it yet.
--
Everett looked at the open letter in front of him and picked up the phone. "Jonathan, come to my office."
Within in moments Jonathan strode through the door. "Is something wrong?"
Everett shook his head. "No, but I thought you said there was a waiting list?"
His blue eyes widened. "Yes there is. I've heard some people have been on the list for the last two years have never been contacted."
Everett spun the piece of paper around to show Jonathan, whose eyes stayed wide. "Shit! For one I'd keep that to yourself and two, what the hell did you put on your application?"
--
Everett parked his car in the secure underground carpark of the building and took the elevator up. The look on Jonathan's face kept replaying in his mind. He'd looked completely surprised, and Everett honestly couldn't see what the big deal was. Exclusive places, they were a dime a dozen and when he was younger, he probably could've named most of them. Sex. Sex was easy, he'd never had a problem bedding women. He had acquaintances in the upper echelons of the money circles. Enough money could buy you anything. He'd been invited to swinger nights, propositioned at Christmas parties and company soirees, more times than he'd cared to remember, it not only made things complicated but in the end it just bored him. His problem was he liked the chase. He couldn't deny the attraction of confidence and a person who took pride in themselves, but unfortunately you may as well have a sign around your neck. People could smell it, and they all wanted something from you, but that was life and it wasn't going to change anytime soon.
The doors slid open and he found himself walking into a reception with a women standing there expecting his arrival. She shook his hand.
"Mr Armitage. I trust we were easy enough to find."
"Yes."
"My name is Valerie, could you please follow me."
Everett's eyes dropped to the sway of Valerie's hips as she walked in front of him. The woman was stunning. Her auburn hair coiffured in an immaculate chignon. She wore a lilac shirt and black pencil skirt with tall but understated black heels. Slender, but with soft curves. He hadn't seen a woman of that calibre in some time.
She pushed open a set of double door revealing a highly decorated, yet tastefully masculine living room: black Chesterfield lounges, flourishing burgundy carpet, darkly stained large wooden wall panels and an enormous ornate mirror. The rectangular room also had a floor to ceiling bookshelf that covered one wall, and temperature controlled wine cabinet accompanied by a cabinet stocked with what looked an impressive range of whiskies. Everett wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Mr Armitage, I'll be leaving this here. Please fill it out as comprehensively as possible, and please make yourself comfortable. If you need my assistance, please use the button." She gestured to wall and as she turned he took in her profile: high cheekbones, pale skin with a hint of apricot blush and sharp jawline. Her eyebrows were classically shaped, more full than so many women he'd come across who loved to pluck them within a fraction of themselves. Valerie turned back to him, her face passive, but her brown eyes told him that she knew he was giving her the once over.
He gave her his trademark smile, and she smiled back politely before leaving the room. Everett shook his head, it had been awhile since he'd been shutdown and he chuckled. What he would given to have met Valerie under other circumstances.
A soft click sounded and he looked up in surprise, wondering why the door had been locked.
--
Selene observed him through the one way mirror. So this was Everett Armitage. He was tall. He looked six foot or just shy of. His dark grey suit was fitted, single breasted, tailored no doubt. He wore no tie with his black shirt. Thick dark hair, slightly unkempt, not as slick as some of the high-powered corporate flyers that had seen the living room. She almost laughed when she saw him appraising Valerie. Valerie had that effect on every man that walked through those doors.
He was almost boyish in his wonder, almost. As though he was letting his guard slip. She pursed her lips. Maybe he really wasn't suitable. The men who walked through those doors were hard and sometimes downright bastards, but they didn't pay her to make personal judgements. Not that she was immune. Occasionally she turned down potential clients if she heard something that didn't sit well. Punishing misogynists was not her thing.
He stood in the centre of the room, slowly looking at everything, from the ceiling to the floor. Selene crossed one arm under her breasts and her other elbow leaned against it as she pressed her lips to her knuckles. He then circled the room, taking his time, as he looked over the selection of whiskies and then spent even longer looking at the books on the bookshelf. He looked at the mirror briefly before turning to the paperwork Valerie had left him. He stood for a long time before sitting down and filling it out.
When he finished, he looked around the room again and then pressed the buzzer.
--
