When Ariz heard from Dennet, it was a most pleasant surprise. He'd made use of the merchant's services often over the past decade and he'd always come through in spectacular fashion, providing anything from rare wines to finely crafted jewelry, and anything in between. Dennet had an uncanny ability to anticipate the man's needs. There would occasionally be the pleasant surprise of a rare wine or a particular piece of art or jewelry delivered to him that he didn't know he wanted until he saw them. Some of them even came as gifts. Dennet said he liked to show appreciation to his customers, but Ariz also knew that such gifts served to advertise what he could acquire for them and encouraged a deeper relationship.
He was an excellent source of information as well. Ariz could take whispers to the merchant and have them verified or not in very short order, which made him a substantial fortune and solidified his position to the extent that he could be as much a part of the city as he wanted to be, which was not much. He would rather be home immersing himself in his various interests, and he could hardly study the things that truly moved him if he were hosting dinner parties weekly.
Even if there were people in Court that shared them, they likely knew nothing by comparison and they'd bore him more than anything else. He'd studied things the world told him were forbidden almost since he could read and he knew he had few matches in the world. All the hobbyists could do is make him feel superior and, since he already knew he was, there was no point.
As a red-blooded male he had needs, but even those needs couldn't be satisfied by the mundane. Any man could just roll onto a woman, rut, then roll away. That physical act was the barest hint of what it could be. There were layers upon layers of dominance and submission in each moment. It could be a battle that took the form of a hungry kiss, to a bite to mark your lover, to simply finding oneself on top.
A touch? A tongue? A cock? A pussy? Of course they gave pleasure, but they all did so in ways the body anticipated. It was in all the ways that a body could find pleasure that it didn't anticipate that Ariz found his own pleasure. To mix pleasure and pain was a heady mix indeed and beyond most to truly grasp much less enjoy. To hear that shock on her voice as her body touched something it never thought possible was as much thrill for him as her. It was almost better than burying himself into to the hilt.
Almost.
But when she was so high from the mix that she could barely speak to do anything more than accept that he controlled her body and mind in ways no one ever had before. When she admitted she was his before that surrender turned her into little more than an animal, that made it perfect. Dennet helped him find the type of women he sought for his pleasures.
Dennet didn't traffic in slaves and Ariz wouldn't have wanted them anyway. They were ruined people and it wasn't about ruining them; it was about opening their eyes and proving he could. It was in that way he proved his control. That wasn't to say that he didn't have particular desires when it came to his women. He liked them beautiful when he could find them so, but that wasn't nearly so important as coming to him needy and already in a submissive position. He liked them coming to him reluctantly, or even with shame. They gave in, submitted their bodies to him, and he took control. And once he awakened them, some came back for more and more and more.
But he always sought out fresh blood. So when Dennet sent a message that afternoon that he found a lovely someone in need that might suit his, he thrilled at the chance to meet her. Making his way to a small tavern near the center of town he entered to find it clean and tidy of course. There were few places in Idros that fit what the rest of the world saw as a bar. The décor was modern, the floor a light wood with the bar dark and lacquered so that it matched the chairs, with the tables alternating between matching the light of the floor and dark of the bar.
It was sparsely populated, but, judging by the description Dennet gave he could have picked her from a crowded room. In one of the far booths finishing her drink was a young woman with hair the color of fresh snow. As he maneuvered the tables and closed in, he appraised her more fully. In her military leathers and the way they hugged her waist, her figure was even more alluring, and the thigh displayed from uniform to boot invited the eye to roam.
He stood before the table and smiled charmingly at the waif before him. Those eyes. That skin. She looked ethereal. And the fact that a creature like this could be so in need as to be willing to surrender himself set his blood rushing through his veins. "You must be Elan."
She looked up at him. His height towered above her, but his frame was slight with a thin goatee and mustache as dark as his hair "I must be," she said nervously before realizing how her tone might have presented itself. "I am. You're Mister Ariz?"
"Antin Ariz, yes. May I join you?"
She gestured to the other side of the table. "Please."
He slid in and looked to her now empty glass. "Would you like another?"
"No, thank you." She looked at the empty glass and pushed it to the side slightly. "I don't drink, really. I'm not sure why I started now."
He looked to the empty glass with a smile at the memories. "I think we've all used alcohol to deaden nerves now and then." He opted to change topics, "Is this your first time in Idros?"
"I've passed through now and again as part of my service."
"I hope it's always been a pleasant experience."
She pondered it. "I would say so."
"Good," he said honestly, "I know that the city is not for everyone." He just watched for a moment the way the candlelight from the center of the table danced in her eyes. "It seems we have a mutual friend in Dennet."
She gave a quick nod before studying her hands at her lap intently. Her mind there, open, bereft of anything but the ability to follow the commands of she who was now its puppet master in a literal sense. "We do. He said that you have been known to...help people in need?"
She shied away, sliding slightly further down her seat and closer to the wall as the barmaid appeared. He didn't seem annoyed by the interruption, telling her that he would let her know if they needed anything. After she had gone he picked up where they had left off, "I've been known to help women who find themselves in financial straits. What puts a young woman like you in such need?"
Elan closed her eyes, "Not me specifically." She forced the next words out. "My mother. She...likes...liked to gamble." She looked back at him, seeming to look for strength. The words flew from her lips in an attempt to save the image of a vice-ridden mother that only existed as vice-ridden woman because Ariz needed her to. Elan's empty mind took those seeds and created an entire history around them. If he tried to touch her mind, he would find the truth of it because that is all that would be there.
"She liked to gamble. It started out so..nothing at first. In a few years she was selling our belongings...heirlooms that had been in the family for generations. We were finally able to stop her, or at least convince her to stop herself. It took a lot of what we had left to us to pay the debts and we did."
He seemed sincere in his sympathy. "I can imagine. It's not an uncommon theme." Indeed many women had grovelled before him in submission to cover debts, though they were usually of their own making.
"A...umm...creditor has appeared and demands payment. He's willing to settle for less provided he can be paid quickly, but she...we can't otherwise pay quickly, so..."
Her squirming and her weakness aroused his hunger to use her, even if he did respect the why of her presence. Outwardly though, he simply finished her thoughts with understanding. "So you are willing to help her. You are either very dutiful to your family or you love her very much."
