All characters are over 18.
*****
It was a swanky joint. Had that classy, old world elegance that was long out of style. I tell ya, you walk through those tall wooden doors, it's like stepping outa today and into a whole different era. Yeah, they don't make joints like this anymore. Don't help that I promised voters I'd shut 'em all down.
I let the doorman take my coat. Snazzy fella, dressed up in his fancy tux. Ain't that something. Better dressed than me, and I was the client.
Yeah, I might've lied when I said I'd close them down. But hey, what did the voters expect from a politician?
You could hear the cabaret all down the hall. A real band. Place like this don't believe in recordings. First thing you'd see are the girls. They were the point, after all. A few dancers, some call girls waiting on the wings. Even mid afternoon I wasn't the only client here. Saw a circuit judge pull one of the dancers onto his lap. Desk editor for the local paper wandered off into the back rooms with a girl on each arm. Didn't say nothing to them. Never do, unless you're here for business. Places like this didn't exist, and sure as hell no respectable gentleman ever set foot in one.
Least, that's what we told the press.
"Can we get you something, sir," the waitress said almost as soon as I sat down. "The lady will be with you in just a short while."
Waitress was a nice little number. Slim, willowy brunette, with legs like you wouldn't believe. That tiny little dress they were wearing didn't do much to hide em, either. Not too big up top, but her dress was cut low and tight enough that you kept looking to see if they'd pop out. They never did. Not unless you were paying extra.
"Scotch on the rocks," I said. Drink was cheap in a place like this. Fuzzed a man's head. Made him careless, agree to things he shouldn't. You needed a clear head in this joint, but I needed calm nerves more. Besides, all it cost is money. I had plenty of that.
Waitress came with the drink, and she wasn't alone. Soft, freckled arms wrapped around me from behind, as I felt a pair of lips press against my neck. Long fingernails dug lines down my neck, circling the collar of my dress shirt. Slender fingers slipped down to unfasten the top two buttons.
Ginger. Now there was a fine looking woman. She'd caught my eye almost five years ago. Backup dancer back then, I'd seen her in one of the late night shows. One part entertainment, three parts advertisement. The girls are for sale, you know, all of them are.
At first glance I was awestruck. Her long legs, the cute freckles dotting the creame of her otherwise unmarked skin. Even in the back of the crowd there was a certain self possessed grace that drew me to her. The Lady caught me looking. From that moment on, Ginger was always close by whenever I showed up wanting something important. Tonight wasn't any different.
"You know," she whispered in my ear, "the Lady might be a while, I'll bet we can find some way to pass the time, don't you?"
I'd wanted her desperately since the first moment I saw her. My answer was the same it had been every night she asked.
"Not today, Ginger." She pouted as she slid into my lap, but we both knew the game. Money wasn't the issue. Didn't get to where I was without picking up some change under the table. But a place like this, a faerie bar, it was wasn't money they were charging.
Deals, favors, obligations. Lifetime of city politics and you think you've got a handle on them. All that's nothing next to dealing with a faerie. Gal that ran this joint made even the most well oiled political machine look like a baby's playbox. Had something or another on just about everyone important. Businessmen, union bosses, press, politicians. It was funny, the cost never seemed so high when you started. A word here, a favor there, but it added up real fast. I looked over at the musicians. They were pretty good. Low key, but talented in that subtle sort of way you only noticed when you paid attention. Bet they could have done well for themselves if things had gone a little different. Wonder how many pleasant nights as customers in the backroom it took to bring them out here as the Lady's permanent indentured house band.
Me, I'd been smarter than most. Put a lot of time, lot of effort learning about the fay. Learned the rules, made my trades for power and influence, not fleeting pleasure. Real careful like.
Rule number one, the fay can't lie, but they can sure as hell deceive. You aren't paying attention, you're gonna get real surprised when the bill comes due.
I'd done better than most. Managed to pay down my debt, and there weren't too many who could boast that. Took me most of a lifetime, but it brought this punk of a street kid a damned long way.
Still wasn't sure it was worth it. Especially when I looked at the people who hadn't been careful.
I'd asked Ginger about it once. On some lazy night when I'd had too much to drink. It was an old story. Young, dumb kid got to school and realized cash was tight. Took a few jobs on the side, thought she'd stumbled into some glamorous dream out of an old timey film. But glamor don't come cheap, and one thing led to another.
In some ways, she was hardly a person anymore. People didn't have owners. Ginger did.
"Doesn't that bother you?" I'd asked her.
"Why should it? Out there I was lost and alone. So many decisions, worries. Now I just do what I'm told and I'm never alone. Never have to worry about anything again."
Crazy thing was, she meant it. I could see it in her doe eyed smile that she truly, utterly believed she was better off as the Lady's sworn servant. "How could that be?" I'd asked her, and she answered with a single word: Love.
To hear her describe it, servitude was like floating in a constant sea of love. Submerged in it, surrounded. Devotion to the Lady her sole guiding beacon. The Lady's clients were a chance to spread that love. To bring them closer to the Lady.
Yeah, closer to bondage. I wonder what that innocent girl from the university would say if she could see herself now. Any sense in her, she'd run the other way. Me, I sure as hell wasn't going to reopen that tab for some piece of tail, no matter how nice.
No, I had a much better reason.
"The Lady will see you now, Mr Mayor," said Marigold, today's hostess. She bowed as she spoke, setting her heaving bosom into motion. Nice. First Ginger, now her. The Lady was sure knew how to play it subtle.
If the lounge was ornate extravagance, the back room was all cozy elegance. Small, intimate, their walls hung with lavender velvet and lit by inset candles that cast everything in a soft glow. The lady herself was draped over a wide single armed couch. Dressed only in a diaphanous white gown that did little to hide her flesh and much to enhance it. As always, she was stunning, astonishingly beautiful in a way that would leave the bard himself speechless.
The fay often are.