The Carnival of Sin

[DrStein]

A Night of Sensual Experiences​

Miss Nicole "Fairouza" Murphy,

You have longed for an experience that the mundane world around you cannot offer. You have drawn those who are too weak to ask of you what they want... what you want. We can offer you that which they can't.

You are formally invited to join us for one evening only, a night unlike any other. It is a salon of sensuality, a festival of felicity, a banquet of bacchanalia. It is the Carnival of Sin. It is an invitation-only event, and we have selected you as one of our guests.

The Carnival of Sin promises you a feast of the senses. A place to indulge yourself in pleasure. We offer the utmost discretion and guarantee not only your privacy but also your satisfaction. Our invitations are based not on what you bring to the party, but on what we can do to give you a night of the most unforgettable experiences.

Should you decline this invitation, a second one will not be offered. It is our advise that you think carefully on this. Included in the envelope is a small necklace of a theatrical mask, one half of the face laughing, the other half weeping. On the back is the date and time of the event. We will be located at 31 West Ave, in Suite 7 on the 7th floor. Wear the necklace when you arrive and one of our people will be there to greet you. Dress comfortably. One can neither be over-dressed or under-dressed at The Carnival of Sin. We all look forward to seeing you there.

Cordially,
Mr. Black

The invitation arrived in a hand-written envelope with no return address. The invitation itself was written in masterful calligraphy on what felt like old-fashioned parchment that smelled faintly of roses. The necklace described was indeed inside and made of pure silver on a chain of the same. The date and time inscribed on the back was for 7 PM of that coming Saturday. As to who sent it, from where, or how they come to know of Nicole, there was no clue.

 

[haremfaery]

Nicole put the invitation back in it's envelope as she walked to her bedroom. She put it on her dresser then opened her jewelry box and put the necklace inside. It was a very pretty necklace, not her style or color, but beautifully crafted.

She thought if this Mr. Black professed to know so much about what she 'longed' for and was only offering a one-time deal, he should have consulted her first for her availability. She pretty much worked every Friday and Saturday nights. It went with the territory when you were a performer. She performed on weekends and taught during the week, even then it was mostly evening classes. She always told her friends that if every night were a Friday or Saturday, she would be a millionaire.

Her phone chimed. She looked at the text from Najib at the restaurant.

Leslie coming to town this weekend. Bringing a big group. Wants to perform. Why not take Sat off?​

Nicole looked at the message. Leslie danced at the restaurant long before she started working there. The woman had moved down south somewhere but periodically came back north to see friends and family. Najib didn't want to pay two dancers for the night.

So ... she was available after all. "Well, Mr. Black, seems I can attend your little soiree." She said under her breath. "But not before I check you out first."

She went back to her small living room and sat down. She pulled her laptop desk over to her and opened it. She googled "Carnival of Sin" and got a lot of hits, most of them for a porn site. "Ew." The invitation had mentioned a bacchanalia, was she being invited to an orgy? That was so not her thing.

She found links to a few books, all horror ones about evil carnivals and circuses and creepy clowns. But nothing that sounded like Mr. Black's carnival.

She looked up the building, but there was nothing unusual about it. She tried a reverse search of the addresses and got zilch as well.

She still had a few days to decide.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~​

The next day she called her friend and fellow dancer, "Hey, Barb. It's Nicole. This will probably sound weird, but I got an invitation to some strange party. It all sounds very exclusive. I'm thinking about going. I'll text you the details. I just wanted someone to know where I'll be in case anything happens. What? No. I don't think anything will happen, but...better safe and all that. I'm treating it as a date, or a private gig. Well, no, it didn't say anything about bringing a plus-one."

"Look, I'll have my phone with me. It starts at 7. Just like a blind date--call me between 8 and 8:30 to give me an out. I'll let you know if things are going well."

"Frankly, I'm thinking this is some new restaurant and it's their clever way of interviewing dancers or something." She laughed. "You know me, I'm no prude, but if this turns out to be some sort of porn thing, I'm outa there. Why do men always think belly dancing is synonymous with stripping? Or worse?"

"No, I don't have any idea what I'm going to wear. The invitation was vague. Sounds like a come as you are thing. I don't know, I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard. Maybe just my little black dress..." She laughed again. "Don't worry, I'll let you know what I decide."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~​

Nicole arrived at the address a few minutes before 7. Being an entertainer, she always arrived early to things.

She decided to wear her little black dress. It hit a few inches above her knees and had a flattering sweetheart neckline. The sheath style hugged her curves without being too obvious. The was the sort of dress one would wear to work, or out to dinner or a big night on the town. The necklace with the tragedy and comedy masks sat below the hollow of her throat. She was nervous and shifted in her high heels as she punched the number 7 on the elevator. She wondered if she should have worn pantyhose, but the weather was warm and she went with bare legs. Her skin was pale, but that never bothered her.

She tucked a stray lock of red hair behind her ear. She opted to wear it down like she did when she performed.

The elevator doors slid open and there was a sign pointing her to suites 1-6 to the right and 7 to the left. She felt some butterflies in ehr stomach like she did every time she performed. There was always that little nervous thrill not knowing what to expect. What sort of crowd it would be, how they would react, if she would make some dumb mistake and if they would notice. she felt like that now.

 

[DrStein]

As the doors of the elevators parted, there was the soft sound of music in the hallway. It sounded vaguely like Middle Eastern or North African folk music. The doors were all dark except for a warm light coming from the door leading to Suite 7. Standing by the door was a tall, thin man dressed in solid black and with a shaved head. There was something odd about him. He was unnaturally still and placid. He looked at Nicole and then to the necklace around her neck. "Welcome, Miss Murphy. We are expecting you."

He opened the door for her. Inside the suite looked like it was in the wrong building. Fine couches and stacks of silk pillows provided sitting surfaces. Ceiling lamps of obvious Arabian design hung from the ceiling along with sensors filling the air with the scents of sandalwood and frankincense. Walls and partitions were painted in muddy but beautiful colors, blues, reds, and yellows. A number of walls and partitions formed alcoves. Some had seating and hookas within, others tables where diners indulged on expensive looking ethnic delicacies. The guests were men and women of seemingly every imaginable race and nationality. Standing just inside the entrance was a tall, good-looking man of indeterminate race with neatly styled dark hair and wearing a black silk suit, American cut, with a royal purple shirt slightly unbuttoned and black leather shoes. The silver mask of the necklace was seen as a pin on his lapel. On his hands were exquisite black silk gloves. His whole ensemble looked like it cost more than Murphy made in a year.

He smiled invitingly and held his gloved hands out as he stepped to the edge of the door. "Welcome, Miss Murphy," he said in a velvety baritone. Like his features, his accent was impossible to identify. "We are delighted that you were able to join us tonight." He took Nicole's hands in his and kissed them softly, leading her into the room. "I am your host for the evening, Mr. Black." The door shut behind them. When Mr. Black looked to Nicole, she would notice for the first time that his eyes were an unusual dark red.

 

[haremfaery]

Nicole thought the man outside the door was Mr. Black, but he seemed to be more of a maitre d'. The butterflies in her stomach continued to swoop. She could feel her palms getting wet. She was torn between curiousity and fear. What had she gotten herself into?

But the people inside seemed happy and despite the strangeness of the situation, it really seemed nothing more than a very upscale middle eastern restaurant.

She found Mr. Black to be exotically handsome. She had always liked swarthy men. Mediterranean types. When he kissed her hands she felt her cheeks warm in a blush.

"Thank you. I have to admit, I am still a little unsure about this whole thing. It's all very mysterious." And so was her host. His eyes glinted like garnets. She wondered if he were wearing contact lenses like some of the Goths did to look like vampires. Just another affectation to make this place seem even more exotic, or to keep people on edge.

He held her gaze until she looked away. She felt like a bug under glass.

"I have been in many middle eastern establishments, and I must say, Mr. Black, your place is beautiful. The rugs...! And those must be antique lanterns. I don't think I've ever seen so many in one place. "

The heady incense in the room filled her nostrils. She felt more relaxed breathing in the atmosphere of the room. Or maybe it was the hint of hashish she smelled coming from the hookahs.

 

[DrStein]

Mr. Black made a small sound somewhere between a moan and thoughtful hum. "The Carnival of Sin is a very unique... establishment. I assure you, you will find nothing else quite like it. But then, I could also say similar in regards to yourself. We do not invite just anyone."

He walked deeper into the room. The guests seemed to be off in their own little worlds. Deeper in the room, their indulgences became more explicit. At one table, a man held a woman in his lap and was kissing her neck. Another woman was reclining a couch as a muscular, swarthy man massaged her calves and another fed her grapes. Mr. Black came to a particular alcove hidden behind a gauzy, translucent curtain. There were several figures behind it, but their features were obscured and it was hard to tell what they were doing. The colors however made it clear that there was a lot of skin on display.

"Did you know that every woman has a submission fantasy at least once in her life? It is difficult to respect those who do not ask for what they want." He turned and faced Nicole. "But you know this all too well, don't you? Your assertiveness has served you well in business, but not in romance. You attract men who are weak... unsure... afraid. They let you make all the decisions and never ask for anything exciting. You always leave them. You can't respect them because they don't respect themselves."

Mr. Black grinned and adjusted the lapels of his suit. "Tell me... Would you be interested in meeting a man who is unafraid to ask for anything?" The look in his eyes made it clear he knew the answer already. "The Carnival of Sin is here specifically to give you what you have always wanted for one night."