Flavors of Life and Love (Closed for Veroe)

[such_a_bad_man]

The heat hadn't quite reached its zenith yet as Derek Vogt pulled into the employee parking lot for La Cocina Fresca. That usually came hours from now. The sun was still leaning on him as he got out of his car, however. It was a "dry heat" as the tourists always liked to say when they came to visit Las Vegas, but then again so was a blast furnace. It didn't make it any less comfortable on the walk to the rear door of the restaurant. Pushing through it, the din of the kitchen reached his ears. It wasn't the sound of busy chefs and line cooks, but rather their choice of music as they cleaned up after the lunch rush.

The lunch rush was never that big. Usually it was populated by people waking up from the night before and looking for something to help with their hangover from the night before. Due to La Cocina Fresca's reputation and prices, it kept a lot of the people seeking dollar breakfast tacos away. Instead, it allowed the restaurant and the staff to take care of its clientele to the best of their abilities. That was part of why Derek loved working as the General Manager at a place like this. He hated working in places that valued volume over customer service. He loved crafting an experience for the customers that chose to come here. It was that attitude that helped him land the role when he met with the owner, Martina Barrera.

Martina opened La Cocina Fresca with her husband, Carlos, nearly a decade ago. As their family grew, Martina knew she had to take a step back to give more time to her kids so she hired Derek to take over as General Manager for the restaurant. It was not something he took lightly. He had worked in the restaurant industry since he started as a bus boy in his teenage years. Moving up the ladder of jobs, La Cocina Fresca was his chance to be a professional in the business for the first time. It was hard to maintain that professionalism in the back of house, however, as he'd worked with a number of the line cooks or dishwashers at one time or another over the past decade.

"Hey, what up, D?" asked one of the cooks as Derek walked through the kitchen to reach the dining room. No one called him Derek, not for a long time. It was always D since he started working back then. He didn't mind it; it always seemed like a term of endearment to him amongst his co workers. It was also a reminder of where he started. Something that kept him humble as he worked this new role. With a smile and a wave, he greeted the cook that shouted out to him. Even as he did, the ticket machine sprung to life with a fresh order. Derek furrowed his brow, wondering who could be ordering something from the kitchen at 2:15pm.

Pushing through the door to the dining room, he saw one of the waiters finishing up that order at the waiter station. "Oh, good afternoon, William," the waiter said politely. William was his name among the waitstaff, a name to show who was in charge out here. It was also his grandfather's name; it had been given to him as a middle name, but Derek liked how professional it sounded. It quickly became his business name after taking over as GM.

"Good afternoon, who is here to be ordering from the kitchen?" William asked, scanning around the dining room. Sure enough, he spied his answer. Sitting at a table near the door to the office, he spied Carlos and Martina's kids, Danny and Ellie. They were siting in their spot, chattering with each other as Martina finished her day. They came by about this time every day, dropped off by their babysitter, to wait for their mom here. The order going in was probably for some nachos or rolled tacos. Something the kids could eat without making a mess.

Seeing them settled, he went about his usual routine at the start of his shift. Checking tills and sales receipts, checking inventory in the fridge, freezer and dry storage, making sure the bus boys had cleaned the dining room since lunch, it had all become pretty rote at this point. As he was checking the soda system, he caught Martina poking her head around the corner. She was going to run the kids home for the afternoon, but she would be back this evening. Derek was a bit surprised by that; usually she would be done for the day once she left with the kids, but he wasn't about to argue with one of the owners. "Alright, drive safe, boss," he called after her as she waved from around the corner.

The night went on much as it had been for the past few months since he started. Around 5pm, the restaurant started to pick up. On the weekdays, they got mostly tourists looking for a nice meal of authentic Mexican food before spending the night at the casinos or one of the many shows in town. That usually led to good tips for the waitstaff, but strange requests for special menu considerations. From allergy warnings to diet restrictions to outright ignorance of what goes into an enchilada, Derek would have to put on his best William voice to make sure that the customers always had a good experience, no matter how wrong they might be. Thankfully, he had a knowledgeable kitchen staff that could work with most anything that he had to materialize for the customers.

The sun had finally set as the dinner rush was ebbing to a steady stream of customers. William was talking with the hostess at her stand as there were a few reservations coming in the next hour and the head count for each of them was going to lead to a space concern. They were trying to see what assemblage of tables could make it work when Martina walked back in. She was not alone; she had her twin sister, Michaela, with her. It was not the first time that the pair had come in for dinner together. William was a bit surprised to see her back so soon, however. Rumor had it that Michaela had a chance to be a partial owner in La Cocina Fresca, but chose not to. She had her money in a club or bar somewhere in town. He hadn't heard much more than that.

There was a part of him that wanted to know more. While they may be twins, Michaela seemed so different from her sister. Something in the way she walked, talked. It felt... elegant, but controlled. Each word from her mouth felt shaped with purposeful effort. She wasn't putting on airs or trying to condescend. She exuded surety and confidence in ways most women didn't. He couldn't put his finger on any one thing that she did to give him this impression. The whole was definitely so much more that the sum of her parts. And what lovely parts they were. Toned and shapely in all the ways he liked, but it was clear she took care of herself for no one else. He realized he'd been staring when he realized Martina was waiting for him to respond.

"Sorry, boss, what was that?"

"Do we have an open table we can use?" She asked, grinning as it was clear she had caught him staring at her sister.

"Not just yet, we're trying to clear some tables for some reservations, but the bar is pretty open for the time being," he offered. "I'm sure your sister can look after herself while you pop i

 

[Veroe]

IC: Micheala (Mike) Cavanagh

Mike followed into the restaurant after her twin sister, Martina. She talked with William, her new General Manager. Apparently, they had some pretty large reservations coming in and were working out how to arrange the tables to accommodate that many diners.

"Come on, Martie," She nudged her sister, "The bar will do just fine for us."

"Alright, Mike," She said glanced back at William, "If you need help. Don't hesitate to call on me."

She And Martie crossed the restaurant to perch on the stools at the bar. She ordered a fruity Mexican cocktail with tequila and orange liquor while Martie only ordered a club soda. Then they sat and got back in touch. How was the restaurant doing. Pretty okay, the price from their vendors after the pandemic's shipping shortages hadn't gone back down. So they were stressing over that, and little Danny was going to need braces.

Mike bit her lip listening to the barrage of worries her poor little sister-younger by a whole minute at least-was drowning under. She could relate. She had bought the Eighth Circle six months ago from her good friend and mentor, and she was drowning under a flood of problems and debts. It was nerve-wracking. She owned a bdsm club and hadn't partook of its entertainments in months. She was running herself ragged putting out fires and making sure paul was paid by robbing peter before having to do the reverse just to keep the club in the black.

One of the reasons she came here other than to spend time with her sister, Martie. She sipped on the fruity Mexican cocktail. And Martie shook herself. "Oh, Mike, I've only been talking about myself. What about you, meet anybody special."

Mike on hearing her question choked on the fruity Mexican cocktail placed it back down using a napkin to wipe her chin clean. "Jesus, Martie, why the hell did you ask me that?"

Martie shrugged, "You're all alone, Mike. You deserve to find someone give Mom and Dad more grandkids to spoil rotten."

"It's not as easy for me," She laughed, "You have Carlos who's a great guy and great father and he can cook too. You hit the jackpot."

"And you can't," Martie pressed, "When was the last time you've seen anybody."

"The last time," She repeated thoughtfully. It was almost a year ago now. She'd chained one of her favorite club submissives up and whipped him with a flogger until his ass was beat red. Then she'd sat on his face and allowed him to bring her to climax. She walked out leaving him with a painful case of blue balls. Even that wasn't what Martie was talking about.

She shook her head. "It's not as easy for me."

"Look around," She gestured to the many men in the restaurant, "Vegas is teeming with decent eligible guys."

Mike shook her head and rolled her eyes whispering to her lowly, "You know what I mean, Martie, very few will be into...what I'm into."

"Bullshit, Mike," She shrugged, "You're using that...stuff...to hide behind the fact that you've given up looking for a good guy." She reached out and pointed at William who at that moment was clearing a table for them, "Take William for example there. He's a fantastic worker, focused, and diligent, and no one here is more dedicated to this restaurant's success outside me or Carlos."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Look, Martie. I'm not interested in dating a vanilla guy."

"How do you know he's vanilla," Martie asked defensively, "He could be as much a freak as you are."

"Once you've done it enough you get a sixth sense about these things from people you meet," She explained, "I'm sure William is a fine man, and I admit he's cute, but he and I would never work out. He's as vanilla as ice cream."

Just then William approached a little stiffly to tell them he'd set up a table for them. Mike's cheeks reddened a little. Had he overheard any of that conversation?

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"I don't know. Vanilla must be doing something right to be available everywhere, but I'm not above putting caramel and chocolate chips on my vanilla ice cream from time to time," William offered as he arrived at the table. He didn't want to give away how much he heard, but his honor demanded some response. He smiled as he saw the twins reacting in their own way to the implications of what he said. "Ladies, I managed to open up a table for you over here, if you'd come with me, please."

He was still a professional and stayed on task for now. Leading the pair, drinks in hand, through the dining room, he guided them to a small table on the office side of the restaurant. He knew they loved to chat over dinner so he didn't want them near the din of the kitchen, but gave Martina the option of sliding into the kitchen to see Carlos through the office if she so wished. It had to be tough on their marriage as she had to be home a lot of nights to be with the kids while Carlos steered the kitchen through dinner service. He wondered if a new Head Chef might be coming on board ever since he was hired, but tonight, his thoughts were on Michaela.

Mike, as she preferred, dropped by more than a few times every month. William got to chat with her a few times after being introduced by Martina early on, but he wasn't ready for her to call him Derek, not while he was at work. Maybe if they got together away from here, she might learn that name, but he wanted to maintain some semblance of authority in the front of the house for now. He didn't foresee that happening, however. He worked in the restaurant nearly every day. He might take a day off during the week as most of their customers were here on the weekends. Vacationers and convention attendees would fly in on a Thursday or Friday night and be gone by Monday. They wanted an authentic experience here in the desert so they would come to La Cocina Fresca. That's how it had been for as long as he worked in restaurants. With that sort of schedule, it made dating difficult.

But maybe Mike would be the rare case of someone understanding that struggle. Owning a club or bar had to put her on the same sort of schedule, he reasoned as he passed her a menu. It was a formality at this point; she probably knew the menu better than some of the kitchen staff at this point. "If I may, Michaela, the seafood came in fresh today. I would go with the Grilled Sea Bass or the Lobster Tacos today," he suggested, using his knowledge of the day to day operations to suggest the best options on the menu. He tried not to stare; he saw Martina every day, so her twin should be more of the same.

But she wasn't. As he stood there, he saw all the subtle ways she differed from his boss. The way her hair looped around her ear, the angle of her neck as she studied the menu, the line and shape of her body subtly displayed by her body hugging outfit. It was so hard not to stare. To help himself, he turned to Martina. "Shall I put in your order, boss, or will you let Carlos know yourself?" he teased. He was glad that Martina and Carlos were so friendly with him from the start. They must have heard good things about him from all his references around the city before hiring him.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Micheala (Mike) Cavanagh

"Once you've done it enough you get a sixth sense about these things from people you meet," She explained, "I'm sure William is a fine man, and I admit he's cute, but he and I would never work out. He's as vanilla as ice cream."

Just then William approached a little stiffly to tell them he'd set up a table for them. Mike's cheeks reddened a little. Had he overheard any of that conversation?

"I don't know," He mused with a wry little tilt of his head, "Vanilla must be doing something right to be available everywhere, but I'm not above putting caramel or chocolate chips on my vanilla ice cream from time to time."

She chuckled at his words as she followed Martie. She was a little embarrassed if he had indeed overheard their conversation or not. Still, it was a god retort to being called Vanilla by her. As she settled her toned little butt down in her chair of the table he'd set aside for them she regarded William with more scrutiny than Mike ever had before.

He was younger, but only by a few years, and he was certainly cute enough. Probably he had to beat off interested women with a stick on the daily. Also, that didn't mean he'd be interested with a woman that wanted to beat him with a stick and come back a week later for a second date.

They sat and she and her sister looked over the menus, but Mike knew it pretty well by now by heart. William being ever helpful suggested to her, "If I may, Micheala, the seafood came in fresh today."

"Call me, Mike," She told him quirking an eyebrow at his use of her full formal first name, "The Seafood sounds enticing, what would you recommend, William?"

"I would go with the Grilled Sea Bass or the lobster tacos today." Came his courteous reply.

"Excellent then," She said holding out the menu for him to take with a flirtatious smile growing over her face, "I will try the Sea Bass, and a cerveza to go with it..."

She held a finger to forestall him asking which one of the many varieties of cervezas La Cocina offered. Her smile grew wicked regarding the young dutiful man as she simply stated, "Impress me."

"Shall I take your order boss, or will you let Carlos know yourself?" He asked Martie, and Mike's eyebrow quirked higher. Was William attempting to isolate her?

How Interesting.

"I think I will just pop into kitchen to kiss my husband on the cheek and do just that," She told them rising back up from the table, "You two don't do anything I wouldn't do."

She then watched her sister give her a wink and turn to step through the office door in the back of the restaurant. that left her alone at the table with William.

"So...William," She said leaning back and lifting a leg over the other as she regarded him, "How much of our conversation before did you happen to overhear?"

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"So...William, how much of our conversation before did you happen to overhear?"

William couldn't help a smile to himself as he heard the inevitable question from Michaela, or Mike as he was allowed to call her now. It was impossible not to catch a word or two from the guests in the bar section; all those hard surfaces made it easy for sound to bounce around. After so many years in loud kitchens and dish pits, even a crowded dining room sounded like a library to him by now. He'd caught most of what they were saying, but let his mind chew on the subtext until she asked this question. From the way she crossed her lithe legs, he had a few more ideas about what it could be.

"I know it's none of my business, but a few lamentations about dating may have floated on the breeze. But I have a feeling the problem isn't finding a handsome man for a woman like you. It comes down to tastes elsewhere," he said, not spelling it out as he wanted to leave some things unsaid in public. "Perhaps you need to find someone whose company you enjoy and open their eyes to all the available flavors. But that's merely the advice of a family employee, and friend. For now, let me get your orders in and find you a cerveza worthy of you."

William pressed his hand to his chest and bowed slightly before turning from the table. He strode over to the wait station and typed in the Grilled Sea Bass order before continuing on to the bar area. He stepped behind it and scanned the beer bottle labels in the cooler. He pictured the flavor profile of each and remembered how they prepared her dinner. The taste of both was palpable on his tongue as he considered the pairings. His eyes fell on one of their imported labels and he smiled, knowing it was the one. It was odd for a beer with a German sounding name to come from Mexico, but he knew Hann Zomer, a Belgian Saison style beer, would be perfect for her dinner.

Finding a glass and coaster, he put it all on a tray and carried it, perched on his fingertips, over to her table. Years of practice give him total control over the tray as he set it on the table before Mike. "Here you are, Micha-, I mean Mike." He said with a smile as he set her coaster and glass down. He deftly popped the cap on the bottle for her to show it was fresh before pouring it into her glass. His technique gave it the perfect amount of head before he wiped the drip from the bottle neck. "Give that a taste; I'm sure you won't be sending it back," he said with a confident smile.

He waited for her appraisal before offering. "If you'd like to stock that in your club, I'm sure I can connect you with our importer. I'm sure you can get a deal done if you mention my name. We do enough business with him they should." He smiled warmly as he looked deep into he eyes. He was sure about it now. There was something different about Mike that her sister didn't have. It wasn't that one was married while the other was single. He couldn't place it on any one thing other than presence. Mike had a very powerful presence. Even sitting there at the table, he could tell there was more that he wanted to know about her. But the boss's sister? Is that even a good idea? His smile wavered as he cleared his throat. "Enjoy that; I'm sure the hostess is starting to wonder where I am. I'll be back once your food is ready." He said, as he excused himself and got rid of the tray and empty bottle. He returned to the hostess stand and helped her with the last steps ahead of the reservations; he might not get back to Mike after all if they were going to be this busy.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Micheala (Mike) Cavanagh

"So...William," She said leaning back and lifting a leg over the other as she regarded him, "How much of our conversation before did you happen to overhear?"

Her gave her a seemingly very cordial smile in reply. "I know it's none of my business, but a few lamentations about dating may have floated on the breeze."

"You were eavesdropping on us," She said matter-of-factly. She should be indignant but oddly she wasn't...she was more intrigued with this development, "Why do you think that is?"

"But I have a feeling the problem isn't finding a handsome man for a woman like you. It comes down to tastes elsewhere," He answered still in that cordial manner, "Perhaps you need to find someone whose company you enjoy and open their eyes to all the available flavors. But that's merely the advice of a family employee, and friend. For now, let me get your orders in and find you a cerveza worthy of you."

He left her then and Mike had to ponder on what he had said. He had a point. She did often enjoy taking a completely untarnished newbie or even a somewhat green novice in the fetish lifestyle and curating new and exciting experiences to enlighten them. To do it right was a whole lot of work when she had precious little time to devote to that right now, but when it worked it was the most fulfilling thing to her.

But she just didn't have that sort of time to hold a newbie's hand and guide them through the whole thing. Too bad, but her circumstances refused to change so that was the situation she had to resign herself to.

He returned carrying a tray with a glass and a bottle of beer balanced on it. "Here you are, Micha-, I mean Mike."

She nodded gratitude for him remembering to use her preferred name and wondered what cerveza he considered worthy for her. She raised an eyebrow seeing the French or Belgian sounding name on the bottle's label, but then he explained that it came from a Belgian immigrant who brews a Belgian style beer from his new home down in Mexico City. He also told her that when she tasted it she'd note a slightly more sweeter note that came from the Mexican influences the Belgian immigrant incorporated into his beer.

He poured it magnificently well making Mike consider whether her assessment of William was in error. He had all the makings of an excellent service sub. She raised her glass to her lips and took a experimental sip. She lowered the glass back to the coaster he'd placed on the table and smiled.

"Excellent work, William. Call me impressed." She told him. "Perhaps I shouldn't be so quick to judge books, cervezas, or people by their covers."

"If you'd like to stock that in your club, I'm sure I can connect you with our importer. I'm sure you can get a deal done if you mention my name. We do enough business with him they should." His smile was warm and friendly and Mike found herself being comforted by the simple measure of his service.

"Enjoy that; I'm sure the hostess is starting to wonder where I am." He said after clearing his throat. "I'll be back once your food is ready." Then he was off providing excellent service and leadership for the other waiters there.

Martie eventually returned and they talked about things that twin sisters talked about after not seeing each other for a long time. Mostly stories and references to old inside jokes between them. That one time when her boyfriend hit on her sister and tried to pretend he didn't know she wasn't his girlfriend. That one time when she managed to get out of detention by pretending to be her sister...etcetera.

Throughout it all she kept half an eye on William as he went about his duties with excellent tact and intrepid resourefulness. She found herself wondering, considering, even fantasizing what could be...No, she didn't have the time, but maybe, she could, if she tried to make time...

After their meal, which was indeed excellent with the Belgian Cerveza from Mexico City as William had suggested, she stood up to leave for the night but on her way out she passed William and stopped turned around to face him. She lifted a piece of paper for him to take. "The ball is now in your court, William, but remember I am a woman of unusual tastes. If you choose to pursue this, pursue me...you may feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole."

She turned again left through the front door to Martie's open-mouthed astonishment and left him with the piece of paper with her phone number written on it. Maybe he would call and maybe he won't. The chance was taken, and that was the important thing-at least she told herself that.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"The ball is now in your court, William, but remember I am a woman of unusual tastes. If you choose to pursue this, pursue me...you may feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole."

William smiled as he slipped the paper into his pocket. He didn't feel like he needed to respond. Mike was the sort of woman that enjoyed having the last word. He wasn't about to rob her of that. He watched her turn to leave and he couldn't help a stolen glance at her sister. Seeing his boss standing there slack-jawed made him smile as she rarely got caught so surprised. The pair walked out together, leaving William behind with a packed dinner service.

Such was the way of things at La Cocina Fresca these days. He didn't have time to linger on Mike and her words much past her departure, but whenever he caught a spare moment, he couldn't help but fish the paper from his pocket and look at it again. Something about it felt so surreal, as if it wasn't meant for him to have. But Mike didn't strike him as a frivolous woman. She absolutely meant to pass this to him and give him a real number as well. It turned out that his knowledge of beers and knack for customer service made in impression after all.

The night continued on as they usually did. The volume of people in the restaurant stayed high for most of the night. Carlos treated them all to the best food his kitchen could produce all night. It was a testament to what he and Martina had built here and another reason why William was so keen to work for them. As the night wore down, the service became more intimate as couples on dates or fellow service workers from the casinos came in at the end of their shifts. He saw more and more people that knew him as Derek the later in the night it got, but he didn't tell them otherwise. These people knew him when he was on his way up; he wasn't about to forget that.

Slowly, the diners waned until closing time finally arrived. He knew it was about that time when he couldn't help his yawns. Getting a fresh caffeine shot from the bartender in the form of one of her special cocktails, he headed into the kitchen to put in his take-home order before the struck the prep line. Continuing on to the office, he sat at the desk and handled the checklist to close the store. As the staff filtered out, he finished the books and the inventory for the morning staff before locking up the safe and getting Carlos to sign off on everything. Picking up his waiting bag and caffeine blast, he walked out with Carlos as they locked up the place for the night. Waving good-bye to him, Derek once again found himself staring at the number Mike had given him hours ago.

Pushing it back into his pocket, he drove into the city. Derek lived about as far removed from the glitz and glamor of the strip or Fremont Street as a local could. It was the only way he could afford to live in the city. The drive also gave him time to decompress and switch his brain from work to home mode. Sinking into the seat, he mused about calling Mike. "Nah, it's too soon... You can't call her the same day..." he chided himself as he pulled into his neighborhood. Frowning, he wrestled for a good reason why he shouldn't.

"For one thing, there's no way she's still awake at this hour," he told himself. Then again, she was running a club. If that were true, they probably kept similar hours in a city like this. Pulling into his small house, he closed the fence behind his car and walked across his desert of a yard to his door. All one floor and just big enough, it was all his at least. Well, his folks left it to him but it was more than some had at his age. Shedding his suit as he walked to the kitchen table, he sat with a plop before throwing open the lid of his dinner. Even before he let himself dig in, he paused, looking back at his pants. Again, he couldn't think of a reason to stop himself.

Before he knew it, he was holding his flip phone up to his ear, listening to it ring as he waited for Mike's telltale voice to purr through the speaker.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Michaela (Mike) Cavanagh

The Avalon Center was an old Hot Tub factory converted into a BDSM and fetish emporium and lifestyle hub. It had shops that sold everything from crops and other bondage equipment to T-shirts and teddy bears. It was a great example of capitalism for a niche market thriving. Yet, the thing Mike was so proud of was that Avalon was a place for everyone with a kinky bend of all stripes to come and find like-minded kinksters in a safe and judgment free area. Beyond that there were a variety of private themed rooms and dungeons for more intimate interactions between members, for an understandable fee, of course.

It was a lot though, for anyone as an owner. It was two in the morning and the club was hopping filled with naughty kinksters enjoying their camaraderie, but not Mike. As soon as she got here from her dinner with her sister, she entombed herself in her office to tackle the mountain of paperwork and accounting she as the owner had to wrestle day to day. It was all so much. She had no idea how Sir Charles, her mentor, had done this when he had owned Avalon. She sat back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. The numbers on the sheet of paper in front of her were starting to blur. That was how long she'd been sitting here staring at them.

She needed a break. She needed to get out there and find herself again. She wasn't this. She wasn't really Mike the entrepreneur. She was Mike the mistress. She looked longingly to the door of her office. She could do it. Just walk out and find Candy or Zane or any of the club members out there and let off some of this pent-up steam and find herself again. But, Candy and Zane were both her employees now, all the members out there were customers, she couldn't cross that threshold and do something so unprofessional.

This place. Avalon was just too important and sacred to her, to sully it that way.

She ran her hands over her face making an equally frustrated and exhausted sound. At this rate she was going to let Avalon down, and lose her own identity in the process.

Where was Mistress Mike when she needed her?

She stretched, hearing unwanted kinks in her shoulders and neck popping. She thought back to her dinner with Martie, and propositioning her sister's employee like that...God, what he must think of her?

Her iPhone lit up, ringing. She picked it up seeing a number she didn't recognize. Who n the world was calling her at this hour? There was one possibility...

"Hello, William," She said in a tone she hoped would be cool and seductive, and not sound tired or dorky. She also really hoped it was William, and not a random person that called the wrong number. When she got confirmation that it was indeed, William she continued, "I am pleased that you chose to give me a call, and did not make me wait until tomorrow."

She leaned back in her desk chair propping her sandaled feet ontop of the club's paperwork, "May I take this as a statement of your desire to pursue a relationship with me?....Good...Before we decide to continue down this path, I need you to see who I truly am...get up and come be at my club at three tonight, I'll show you around my world."

She sent his number a text containing the address to Avalon, and got up on her feet. A smile was blossoming on her face for the first time in too long. She needed to wash up and slip into something much more appropriate. She was once again, Mistress Mike.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Hello, William."
"Good evening, Mich- I mean, Mike. I hope I'm not calling you too late," Derek answered, leaning back in his chair as he listened to her voice pour over him like liquid silk. Even through the phone, something in her voice was so enrapturing.

"I am pleased that you chose to give me a call, and did not make me wait until tomorrow."
"You strike me as a woman that doesn't like to wait. Plus, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to hearing your voice again," he smiled as he flirted, trying to imagine what Mike looked like on the other end of the phone.

"May I take this as a statement of your desire to pursue a relationship with me?"
"You may."

"Good...Before we decide to continue down this path, I need you to see who I truly am...get up and come be at my club at three tonight, I'll show you around my world."

"I'll see you then." Derek answered before getting the details for The Avalon Club. He remembered seeing it multiple times, but it also looked like a members only sort of establishment from the outside. There were stories, especially around AVN week in Las Vegas, but he never knew how much was true and how much was rumor. He was going to finally separate fact from fiction tonight at Mike's invitation. He smiled as he finished his post-work dinner and jumped in the shower for a quick scrub. He didn't want to smell like a kitchen around Mike; she didn't seem like to sort to put up with annoyances.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried off quickly before heading over to the closet. He didn't have much in the way of modern fashion; he'd not been GM for long enough to fill out his wardrobe beyond the suits he bought to wear to work. Still he found a button-down shirt and something to throw over it before finishing off with some jeans as he wasn't sure how formal The Avalon was. Opting for comfort this time, he hoped it didn't send the wrong message. Dragging a comb through his damp hair, he did his best to look good for Mike. He wanted to show that she was right to give him her number. With a quick swig of courage from the bar in the living room, he grabbed his keys and wallet on his way out the door to his car.

Being a native of Las Vegas, he knew where to find the club. He also knew where he could park for free from his years as a broke member of the kitchen staff. Walking up the street from the parking lot, he could hear the Avalon before he could see it. Even at this hour, there were a dozen or more people coming or going from the place. He avoided the bachelorette party that was having their fun in the shop section of the club and made his way around to the door. When he showed his ID, the security guard's eyes widened. "So is it Derek or William?" he asked as he saw the way his ID was formatted.

"Derek, most of the time, but I go by William for work," he explained.

"Are you the William Mistress Mike is expecting?" the guard asked. "Don't get many Williams these days."

"Uh, yes, I believe so," Derek answered, furrowing his brow a little. Mistress Mike. So it's one of those sorts of clubs. It wasn't shocking to Derek; he had been living in Vegas all his life and it would take a lot to shock him. But it was becoming clearer to him what she was talking about on the phone earlier. Maybe the Mike he saw at the restaurant is the version she wears during the day and Mistress Mike at the club is closer to her true persona.

"Head inside, up the spiral staircase next to the bar. When you climb the first set, tell the bouncer at the next set of stairs that Mistress Mike is expecting you," the guard explained as he opened the door for him.

"Thanks," Derek said as he pocketed his ID again before walking in. Immediately, he could tell it wasn't like any club he'd been to before. It seemed more like a community center in a lot of ways. Yes, there was a bar and dancefloor, but there was the shop and spaces where he saw people mingling and talking. He also saw more leather and lace than he probably had in any one place than he had before. Making his way over to the bar, he found the stairs and walked up to the next level. On this level over the bar area, he saw more than a few couples enjoying each others' company before slipping off to an area he saw lined with doors. He had some idea where they were going. He realized he had found the next stairs when a broad man asked him "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes, can you please tell Mistress Mike that William has arrived? I believe I am expected," he said, looking up at the surprisingly taller man. It wasn't every day that William talked to someone taller than he was so he did feel a little intimidated for the first time in a while. He lingered there as the bouncer got on the radio, shifting on his feet as he wasn't sure what to do for now.

 

[Veroe]

IC:
: Mistress Michaela (Mike) Cavanagh

Mike had taken a brief but refreshing shower in the Avalon's staff locker room. She had one stashed here for a fun little circus session ages ago that gave her delicious ideas for making a first impression now. first was a fishnet body stocking from neck to toes. Then a pair of thigh-high boots with heels so high she'd be in danger of getting smacked in the face by 747's flying by. Then a blood red silk thong under a black leather pencil skirt oiled to a shine so fine she could make out her reflection on her ass in the mirror. Then a white corset that pushed her modest breasts up and forward so now supermodels would die of envy of her bustsize. Then a blood red tuxedo jacket with broad black lapels finely tailored to wrap around and draw the eye towards her breasts. Then a white silk choker around her neck with a red jewel with black chains that dangled down over her chest like a waterfall with smaller red gems at the ends dangling over the wellspring of cleavage her corset had wrought. She added a matching set of black drop earrings, pinning her hair up in a severe bun completed with the black top hat.

She admired the look in the mirror. A very theatrical and sensual ringmaster of the circus of the debauched stared back at her. She gave her a diabolical grin telling her reflection, "Go knock the man's socks off, Mistress Mike."

She left the locker room and several of her staff noticed her and commented on how good it was to see her getting dressed up and ready for some fun rather than the beaten down business-woman they've seen for the past few weeks.

It was late that night-bordering on early morning really-so the crowd was thinning a little even for a weekend. Most of the less passionate kinksters had returned home while the real hardcore members of Club Avalon were still at play. She passed the hall of private dungeons or the ones being rented out for the night. She heard many wails and "Thank you Masters" from behind the closed doors. Then out to the lounge area where masters and mistresses could sit and their submissives would kneel by their sides some dressed others not so dressed. Some were coming down from sessions in the dungeons socializing with others before calling it the night.

It was not long before Antonio, her security manager came up to her. "Boss, good to see you out of your funk."

She raised an eyebrow. "A funk is it, Antonio?"

"Calls'em like I sees'em, boss." He shrugged, "There's a William waiting for you downstairs."

She nodded a smile broad on her face. She hoped it showed her sexy confidence rather than the anxious insecurity of a girl on a first date. "Thank you, Antonio. Please radio Gerald to let him up." She gestured to the lounge around them. "I'll meet him here."

She sat in one chair on the far side so when William came up the stairs he'd have to search her out within the dozen or so members of Club Avalon. Some wore nothing but their birthday suits, others in bondage gear, and others in roleplaying costumes, but all were her people. Here was her kingdom, and she was their queen.

Long may she reign-as long as she could figure out a way to keep the lights on.

She watched as he came up the stairs. He scanned the crowd slowly observing the many many subjects of her court before centering on her. She gave him a warm smile crooking a finger for him to approach. When he came up to her in her throne she told him, "Welcome to my world, William. Does what you see surprise you?"

 

[such_a_bad_man]

William wasn't sure if he should wait in the bar or stay with the security guard. He wasn't sure how fast things moved in a club like this, but soon he saw the guard pressing his earpiece to his head.

"Roger that," he said to whoever was on the line. He turned toward the steps before saying. "If you'll follow me please."

As the man moved, Derek saw that this set of stairs actually wound back downstairs as well. He found it odd that there was a staircase running through the middle of the place, but it appeared he had a lot to learn about this place. They took a few steps down then around a corner then along a wall that separated the bar area from a section of the club that seemed to be set aside from everything else. Taking a turn and stepping down a few more stairs, they arrived at a hallway. In a few feet, it opened into a lounge. The lounge had a few hallways leading away from it with doors set every few feet along them. The sounds reaching his ears were all to recognizable. But he couldn't focus on what was being said.

Scattered around the room, he saw people in various stated of undress, both kneeling on the floor and relaxing in chairs. He felt so out of place almost immediately as his "club" outfit was really just a nice shirt and designer jeans and boots. He didn't really match the vibe of the lounge and felt so out of place. His only option was to look for the woman that invited him; surely she would understand his situation and help him feel less awkward. When his eyes fell on Mike's, his eyes widened. With a nervous swallow, he got a good look at her. Even when she beckoned him over, he couldn't stop staring at her body.

What would be a suit on a ringmaster had been turned sexy in every conceivable way. Where a crisp white shirt should be, there was a corset, cradling her breasts so perfectly. It was hard not to stare at them as the jewels of her choker hung so strategically above them. The tailored pants were replaced by a leather skirt that looked fake due to the level of polish on it. Derek had been in Vegas long enough to know the difference at a glance. Finally arriving before her, he tried to imagine how she could possibly stand up in boots like those, but he wouldn't put it past her. Mike seemed the sort to be so comfortable in an outfit like this. He bit his lip as he realized the fishnet stockings didn't stop at the skirt. His cock pulsed at the thought of her in just the fishnet body suit as he pictured how it must cling to her curves.

"Welcome to my world, William. Does what you see surprise you?"

Mike's voice purred in his ears and made his body tingle in response. He managed a smile as he tried to stand naturally. "I've lived in Vegas for most of my life and served tables full of AVN attendees... but I never thought I'd be invited to a club like this in my life," he answered looking around. When his eyes landed on Mike again, he swallowed. "But I'm so glad you did," he admitted, sharing one of his deepest fantasies. Ever since he started working for Mike's sister, he'd wondered about Mike and daydreamed about so many erotic scenarios when she would come by to have dinner with her sister. He'd always kept it professional, but overhearing her at dinner tonight gave him the nudge to try. Now, he was wondering what was next for them tonight.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Mistress Micheala (Mike) Cavanagh

She watched as he came up the stairs. He scanned the crowd slowly observing the many many subjects of her court before centering on her. She gave him a warm smile crooking a finger for him to approach. When he came up to her in her throne she told him, "Welcome to my world, William. Does what you see surprise you?"

She watched as he stood surveying the group of members all around them. At the table to the immediate left of them were Frank and Dinah, a middle-aged balding man in a three-piece business suit and his loving middle-aged wife dressed as a little girl in a princess dress with fairy wings on her back, a pink crown, and her hair in pigtails. The last Mike knew their youngest had just started teething...she'd have to remember to ask them how that was going. To their right was a lesbian couple sharing drinks with a hetero couple. She knew Sharon got off on submitting herself to Tina and Kay's every sapphic whim while Martin really liked to watch his beloved hotwife in action. The three ladies laughed uproariously as Martin finished a joke-something about confusing a rubber duckie or something. Beyond them was Daniel and Karl and Fabian and Miles the four rather good-looking stallions for their dominant cowgirl, Consuela. They'd been frequent customers to the private rooms of late, because Consuela and the other stallions were working on breaking in their newest and youngest member of her herd. She'd seen her bring in young Daniel on that first night, barely old enough to legally buy a six pack. He'd been shy and embarassed being seen with them or how turned on he was by the older Consuela or her stable of his fellow stallions. Now, just a couple months later he seemed more at ease and comfortable in Club Avalon with his mistress as one of her submissives. They were in the midst of conversation about their session earlier before rising to head back to the ranch.

It was like that all around them. These were Mike's people, her customers, and her subjects. This was a place where they could let their full freak flags fly high and loud with no real judgment. They were friends and family all, and she watched as William took them all in before answering her question to him.

"I've lived in Vegas for most of my life and served tables full of AVN attendees..." He said affecting a charming smile, "...But I never thought I'd be invited to a club like this in my life."

"It sounds like you're about to add a But to that statement." She said sensing the addendum about to be added into

His gaze settled back to her. She noted he met her eyes rather than lowering his gaze to the wealth of cleavage her corset offered up for him to look upon. "But I'm so glad you did."

An eyebrow quirked at that in dangerous amusement, "You know thinking back on it...I realize earlier was not the first time you've ever checked me out before." She lifted the riding crop and tapped it a few times against her palm reminding him of what it might be used for. "A very cheeky thing to do to your boss's twin sister."

She cocked her head at him, "Is that why you're here, William?" The crop pointed right under his chin. "Did you come here just to get into my panties today?"

She brought the crop down hard against her boot making a sharp cracking sound. "If so, you'll be sorely disappointed."

"However, if you came here with an open mind. If you are here to explore a different world than the one you may be comfortable in." She told him patiently, "I can help you explore yourself here. So, the question you need to answer is what do you want from me, William?"