The Sinful Vixen Burlesque and Bordello

[Light Ice]

The Sinful Vixen
Burlesque and Bordello
A Grand Re-Opening



This iteration is a reimagining of the Sinful Vixen Whorehouse. Opening its doors on July 27th, 2010 the Sinful Vixen provided an open playspace for writers within The Lounge. The whorehouse was the brainchild of monique_minx and Ausus_girl13, two active and talented members of the community whose contributions made for a rather active time in The Lounge.

Introduction
Designed as an open play area, the Sinful Vixen provides a prompt for avatars to explore social interactions. It's the hope of the current management that writers will use this space to find chemistry with others that frequent the SRP space and indulge in short scenes and erotica. This place is, above all things, a community space. Both Light Ice and DarkWarrioress ask that members be respectful not only of other community members but of the intention of the space as a whole. Please keep disagreements and conflicts (an inevitability in any virtual social space) respectful and out of this space.

​

Play Spaces
The Sinful Vixen was designed to be something of an oasis for the salacious and sensual pursuits. Beyond a large, sprawling lounge bar area there is a Burlesque Stage and Pole Dancing area. There exists private rooms for guests to slip away and indulge in private trysts. There are dungeon spaces friendly to kinks of nearly all manner (within Terms of Service, Community Guidelines, and acknowledging and respecting the hard limits off community members as voiced). If you desire it, truly, it is most likely here. Imagine this space as a frequently visited, inhabited space with various working women, men, and otherwise uniquely defined people a near constant presence. This is a place of exploration and play.

It's the sincere hope that this place is at least somewhat as successful as the previous iterations. We are all, after all, members of this digital space and voyagers through all things erotica. Enjoy yourself. Feel free to find both DarkWarrioress and I floating about in an avatar, sampling the local cuisine and/or working to sate the needs of various clients. This is the Sinful Vixen. A Grand Re-Opening.

It's time to come in and play.

 

[Light Ice]

She'd insisted he wear his suit.

Not that he would have worn anything else, mind you. She'd esquisite taste. The charcoal grey a lovely, cool color that lay a base to the more glacial cut of his eyes. Emphasized them, really, even when he'd abandoned the jacket on the back of his chair in the private offices they shared. One of many things, really, that the two had kept between them. A partnership long-established. She knew him well enough that the suit's tailoring was without flaw. He was no easy man to fit. Broad shoulders tapered almost dramatically to a rangy waist. Six feet and two inches of length to accomodate.

He'd have to get her more flowers.

The thought pressing enough that when the girls drew open The Sinful Vixen's heavy wooden doors he pulled one of them aside, ignoring the lace and nylon that hugged her lissome little form. She had blonde hair and was all nerves.

"Bouquet. Roses. For the Madame's Desk. Be quick. Have them charge it to our account." His voice a low and measured rumble.

"Yes, Sir." She said obediently.

And then she was gone. A part of him couldn't help but smile. Advertisement enough, he supposed. Though this kind of place was always best by word of mouth. He knew soon they'd come. For now, he retreated briefly to lean against the bar. The Manhattan served on the rocks, orange twist, a subtle twist on a classic.

The man in the drink shared that quality in common.

"It's not exactly as it was, girls." He muttered outloud to the long missing Minx and AG. Two... (friends?) faces from the past who'd established the brand. "But it'll have to fuckin' do."

 

[Destiny]

The invitation... or was it a request... She was still trying to figure that out.

Her red gold locks were piled up on her head a haphazard array of curls that caressed her cheeks and along her neck where a small spray of peony and baby's breath rest glowed int he faint lights of the Bordello. Her head slowly turned looking at the decor caressing the floor, walls and ceiling in quiet pondering. She wasn't sure why she had decided to accept the offer but here she was. She had decided to dress simply in a black spaghetti sundress, the black cotton high lighting fair skin dusted with freckles along her shoulders and her chest. Her legs encased in sheer black nylons were long and shapely and showed off trim ankles. Her feet were encased in black stiletto pumps.

Removing her wrap she handed it off to the coat check girl and then stood in the foyer of the impressively decorated room before she moved fully into the main room where the stages and bars called to the awaiting patrons. Heading to the bar Dest smiled as she was greeted and offered a drink with a quick but personable tender. Drink arrived and she sipped at it slowly licking the excess liquid from her lips before her gaze slid to the stage to watch for a show to begin.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She sat on the bar top, drinking her coffee, legs crossed. Her partner. He always did clean up real nice. He looked good in a suit as he did out of it. The reopening the place required a classy look and he always looked classy. A monster in the bedroom, a gentleman in public. Maybe. Sometimes. She smiled into her coffee cup.

As she looked around, she was pleased. It wasn’t as it use to be but, everything changed with time. Their grand opening was next week and everything was almost ready. They still needed to hire a bouncer. Ice was going to be extremely busy. So, yeah, a bouncer was a necessity. As the Madame, she had her own suite of rooms and had designed them to her liking. She hadn’t been allowed to see his room yet. One of these nights. Maybe. If they made it to the bedroom.

There were so many players out there. A place to interact was so desperately needed but how she let Ice talk her into being the Madame of the joint, she still wasn’t sure. The more she thought about it, the more she realized he had just told her that was how it was going to be and well, here she was. Still, she liked the idea. Being in the very middle of the sex and interaction, it just, tickled her fancy.

If something wasn’t allowed for either of the partners, it was their responsibility to inform the other. Everyone to enter was an adult. Everyone was expected to keep the peace. She wanted to enjoy herself here not police people. However, she had no problem in having their bouncer remove someone if need be. If she had to step in, oh, there would be hell to pay. She wasn’t a redhead for nothing.

The maids had been hired as well as the cooks and servers. Bartenders were as well but there was always room for more should anyone come looking for a job. All the available rooms had been designed and built. The Playroom, aka The Dungeon had been outfitted with equipment and toys. She supposed they were almost ready to open.

Sitting on the bar top beside her was a pile of papers. She’d need to get these into the office and filed. Some were employee paperwork, some were other legal matters. Picking up a few of the papers, she looked over the inventory for the bar. All seemed to be in order.

A Madame. Who would have thought it?

 

[Light Ice]

The invitation... or was it a request... She was still trying to figure that out.

Her red gold locks were piled up on her head a haphazard array of curls that caressed her cheeks and along her neck where a small spray of peony and baby's breath rest glowed int he faint lights of the Bordello. Her head slowly turned looking at the decor caressing the floor, walls and ceiling in quiet pondering. She wasn't sure why she had decided to accept the offer but here she was. She had decided to dress simply in a black spaghetti sundress, the black cotton high lighting fair skin dusted with freckles along her shoulders and her chest. Her legs encased in sheer black nylons were long and shapely and showed off trim ankles. Her feet were encased in black stiletto pumps.

Removing her wrap she handed it off to the coat check girl and then stood in the foyer of the impressively decorated room before she moved fully into the main room where the stages and bars called to the awaiting patrons. Heading to the bar Dest smiled as she was greeted and offered a drink with a quick but personable tender. Drink arrived and she sipped at it slowly licking the excess liquid from her lips before her gaze slid to the stage to watch for a show to begin.

"You came." Not a question.

An aside, though, as she slipped up to the rounded counter that stretched on along beside him. Every stride scissored those legs steadily through the shifting crowd. A cacaphony of voices that seemed pressed away by the sudden nearness of her. There was a shameless way his eyes cut along the svelte shape of her, drinking up and appreciating the gentle lines and feminine curves. His appraisal unapologetically masculine and his blue-gray eyes unfaltering in the way they sought her own.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." His eyes cut to identify her drink.

You could tell a lot about someone by their drink. Especially here when, to his experience, everyone shrouded themselves in a persona of their choice. She'd gone with the classic. A little black dress. Fuck me pumps. Enough come hither to draw a man in without surrendering entire. It was impossible to call her prey. The way she leaned, the way the full curve of her lips embraced the glass of her cocktail, and it was easy to see that this was the savannah and she was on the hunt as well.

 

[Destiny]

"You asked?" She dimpled a smile at him and then regarded the man before her.

He was tall, much taller then she was and even in the high heels she had to look up at him. He seemed to command silently the attention of those around him. She had noticed the women admiring him and a few men. She shook her head," Quite an establishment you have here. I think I heard someone say you are just now opening?"

She finally decided to answer his question," Screwball Whiskey, and satisfaction brought him back. And now they call it Sexy." Her voice was soft, silk wrapped chocolate that most men found appealing in a sensual level. Lifting the drink up once more she sipped at the amber liquid, once more forgoing a napkin to lick the excess from her skin.

"So now that I am here, would you like to let me in on why the request?" Straight to the point, at least she wasn't going to play coy.

 

[Light Ice]

"You asked?" She dimpled a smile at him and then regarded the man before her.

He was tall, much taller then she was and even the high heels she had to look up at him. He seemed to command silently the attention of those around him. She had noticed the women admiring him and a few men. She hook her head," Quite an establishment you have here. I think I heard someone say you are just now opening?"

She finely decided to answer his question," Screwball Whiskey, and satisfaction brought him back. And now they call it Sexy." Her voice was soft, silk wrapped chocolate that most men found appealing in a sensual level. Lifting the drink up once more she sipped at the amber liquid, once more forgoing a napkin to lick the excess from her skin.

"So now that I am here, would you like to let me in on why the request?" Straight to the point, at least she wasn't going to play coy.

"I want to fuck." Came the reply.

Crass? Perhaps. But she'd cut through their banter with a razored tongue and it wasn't in him to flinch. Instead, considering her, he took in the soft features of her face. Her eyes a striking pale grey, flinty beneath long lashes. The high arch of her cheekbones. There was music playing. Something soft an unoffensive. These gentler touches of ambience were more to do with his sultry partner. She was somewhere, he knew, handling the particulars to which they both know he'd no patience for. He'd remember to compliment the choice. Because something about the music made it easy to find a rythm with his curiosity. He lifted a large hand. The battered, calloused stretch of his fingers tender for now.

As he brushed a stray strand of strawberry-blonde back off her face and tucked it back so that her beauty was more bare to him. Here, now, they shrugged off all pretense and his attention drifted briefly to catch the way her tongue slithered out to feather the full pout of her lip.

Desire was a bold thing. Fiery. Embers that had been casually stoked were eager to ignite and he felt the warmth of them growing in his belly. The dichotomy between them a stark one as he, a hulking figure far more physically imposing than she, now lingered close. The heat of her through the dress palpable through the scant distance between them. The early sparks of chemistry threatening to catch aflame.

"What about you?" The inquiry pointed. And then playful. The rumble of every syllable betraying hints of that bestial desire that so frequently lurked within him. "Satisfaction bringing you back?"

 

[Destiny]

"I want to fuck." Came the reply.

Crass? Perhaps. But she'd cut through their banter with a razored tongue and it wasn't in him to flinch. Instead, considering her, he took in the soft features of her face. Her eyes a striking pale grey, flinty beneath long lashes. The high arch of her cheekbones. There was music playing. Something soft an unoffensive. These gentler touches of ambience were more to do with his sultry partner. She was somewhere, he knew, handling the particulars to which they both know he'd no patience for. He'd remember to compliment the choice. Because something about the music made it easy to find a rythm with his curiosity. He lifted a large hand. The battered, calloused stretch of his fingers tender for now.

As he brushed a stray strand of strawberry-blonde back off her face and tucked it back so that her beauty was more bare to him. Here, now, they shrugged off all pretense and his attention drifted briefly to catch the way her tongue slithered out to feather the full pout of her lip.

Desire was a bold thing. Fiery. Embers that had been casually stoked were eager to ignite and he felt the warmth of them growing in his belly. The dichotomy between them a stark one as he, a hulking figure far more physically imposing than she, now lingered close. The heat of her through the dress palpable through the scant distance between them. The early sparks of chemistry threatening to catch aflame.

"What about you?" The inquiry pointed. And then playful. The rumble of every syllable betraying hints of that bestial desire that so frequently lurked within him. "Satisfaction bringing you back?"

The blush that crawl up her cheek could have scorched a match, but the grin was anything but angelic. The caress of the finger along her cheek caused her to turn her head a bit toward the fingers rather then away. Her eyes met his and she laughed a bit to give her skin time to cool and the grim threatening her lips to fade away to a sardonic smile.

"Well there is that?" She drained her glass of the whiskey and gestured for another before returning her gaze once more to the man beside her. "I have a deal for you then..." Her drink arrived and she took a deep breath before continuing, "You want to fuck, I want to play... " Dipping her finger into her glass she spun the ice around a few times stirring the amber liquid seeming to think about something. Bringing her finger to her lips she flicked her tongue along her flesh before sucking it into her mouth cleaning the alcohol from it. Removing the finger slowly she lifted her eyes once more to his.

" I propose a game of high card strip poker, I am sure you are aware of high card?" She watched him for a long minute not waiting for an answer and then continued, "High card wins the item of choice from the opponent and at the end...." she shrugged and smiled..." I guess we fuck."

 

[LoganDarkHolme]

It had been a long hard road, one he knew intimately in his solitary life, crossing the country from one end to another. A million miles behind him with stories of sights and events, of morning sunrises from the tops of mountains, haunting and chilling sights on the darkest nights. Time had passed, people coming and going, friends, lovers, enemies, tragedy and laughter. The rumble of his bike idling between his legs as he stared down to the valley below, an old hang, one he'd passed many times over the years but hadnt set foot in in neigh on a decade, memories of old friends, laughter, and nights hotter then hell in those welcoming silk sheets. Of friends now gone, but not forgotten.

Kicking the gear shift he revved the bike and sped down the grade, the wind whipping his heavy beard in every direction, he slowed as he pulled into the lot. Tense shoulders relaxing he thumbed the kill switch and the heavy 1700cc engines rumble silenced and he turned off the key. Weathered black biker boots kicking up dust as he swung his long leg off the bike, the strap of his helmet slung over the bikes handle bar he combed his beard into place and tucked the comb into a pocket, the dark sunglasses glinting in the lights of the establishment.

He pulled off the dusty leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder, the black tshirt stretched over a broad torso, tucked into black jeans, he strolled up to the main door, a squirrelly little fuck runt trying to stop him and ask for ID at the door, he tugged his glasses down, his black amber eyes boring holes through the kids skull, watching all color drain from the mouses face he gave a sharp snarl and the kid pissed himself as he ran, pushing the glasses back over his eyes he stopped at the door, his hand stopping on the polished wood. Memories of old returning, and he whispered his prayers to those no longer here, he stepped through the door, boots thudding on polished wood grain flooring he looked around, sweeping over the decor and a smile tilted his lips.

A cute young thing stepping up to him with a smile he handed her the heavy leather with a thanks, eyes scanning the room he caught sight of familiar faces and smiled, his long legged gate chewing up the distance to the bar his smile grew, glancing at the bartendered and ordering bourbon on the rocks his voice was gravel as he looked to DW,

"I hear you need new security, your old one ran away" he growled, pulling the sunglasses from his face

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She was still sitting on the bar top when he walked in the door. He caught her attention. Her eyes unabashedly studied him. His body definitely caught her attention. The black t-shirt tucked into black jeans. She gave a small laugh as the young man at the door, ran out of it. She remained quiet, simply content to watch him as he came further into the establishment, his boots making themselves known as he walked. It was the combination of his eyes and his voice that caught her.

“Yeah,” she looked toward the doorway then back at him, “You got any experience?”

The question was loaded and she knew it but simply didn’t care. She uncrossed her legs and held out a hand.

“Help me down, handsome?”

 

[LoganDarkHolme]

“Yeah, You got any experience?”


“Help me down, handsome?”

“Yeah, You got any experience?” he chuckled, a soft rumble of sound, yea, it was a loaded question and they both knew it “Help me down, handsome?” He was mamy things in his life, but when a woman asks for help, you help, he took her hand in his, his palm and fingers rough from the years on the road, but he held her gently, an arm curled around her waist to steady her as she slipped from her perch on the bar, his eyes giving her a quick once over, his lip twitching in approval "a lot of years bashin skulls, " he rumbled a reply to her question, "from California to Maine, many a night tossin rowdy men out in their ass for not respecting a lady who said no" a soft growl giving his words an edge

He walked with her to a table and pulled out the chair for her before melting into his own chair with a grace of movement you wouldnt expect from someone of his size, booted feet crossed at the ankles relaxed he studied the woman "can provide references, well......names of graveyards....at any rate" he smiled

 

[RainingHeat]

She was tired, it had been a long day for her and sleep had eluded her the night prior. But her sister, DW as she liked to call her, was managing a new establishment and she wanted to be there to help out.

So she slipped behind the bar, stocking, checking, glasses, booze, all the fun things that made a bar a good bar. One for enjoyment, entertainment and who knew what else.

When he showed up at the door, Rain felt his presence, like a dark tendril that wound slowly around her and she looked up, letting a smile curl her lips. He certainly did know how to make an entrance, and thankfully scared off that creepy little man that had always stared at any female that came within his eyesight..

Rain just watched quietly while he and DW interacted, but could not take her own eyes off him...

 

[DarkWarrioress]

His answer to her question didn’t startle her. She merely nodded and gave him a soft thank you when he helped her down off the bar.

“Did you crack those heads only out of necessity? We run a quiet place here,” she had to laugh again, “well, quiet except for the moans and groans that will be going on.”

She canted her head slightly and studied his face, “Let me see your hands please.”

She held out her own, palms up. She had caught sight of them earlier but now she wanted to study them. Without turning to look at the bar, her voice rang out.

“Don’t you have someplace to be, Rain? Now, back to you. I’m waiting. “

Her fingers twitched. There was only softness in her voice but a softness that covered steel.

“What’s your name?”

She already knew he could follow direction but there was something about him. He gave off the air of an Alpha and aside from her partner, they could use another one. This one. He made her want to squirm but for now, she had a job to do. There would time later for exploration. Perhaps. If he was willing. That time was not now.

 

[RainingHeat]

Rain's light laughter slipped from her lips. She and her sister, loved each other to pieces, but DW knew Rain was staring at him. Could not sneak anything by her, that's for sure. But Rain could not help it. She was sure he'd haunt her dreams, maybe even a nightmare or two...

Backing away to the furthest end of the bar, she went back to her checking of stock, but could not help but glance up every so often, just to watch... dark eyes sparkling, brushing back a tendril of her long, dark hair .....

 

[LoganDarkHolme]

Now, back to you. I’m waiting. “

Her fingers twitched. There was only softness in her voice but a softness that covered steel.

“What’s your name?”

She already knew he could follow direction but there was something about him. He gave off the air of an Alpha and aside from her partner, they could use another one. This one. He made her want to squirm but for now, she had a job to do. There would time later for exploration. Perhaps. If he was willing. That time was not now.

Did you crack those heads only out of necessity? We run a quiet place here, he smirked at her question, sitting back in his chair he let his gaze wander over to the bartender, and eyebrow peaking as the lady before him barked at her to get back to work and he laughed as the women flustered, she knew she'd been caught oogling, his gaze turning back to the lady across the table, "well," his voice rumbled with a hint of laughter "one guy decided to take liberties with a woman in a bathroom, the ladys bathroom that is, that he hadnt paid for, now i just happen to be in the mens room next door when i heard her cry muffled by his hand over her mouth, and well, it wasnt the kinda cry you expect to hear in those places" he made a "whats a guy to do" gesture with his hands before curling them back over his stomach "heard he finally got dentures" he shrugged non-chalantly


"Let me see your hands please.” he blinked at that question, not one he'd expected, and that more then anything intrigued him so he held out a hand to her, it was clean, despite having ridin in fingernails trimmed short, skin was cracked and scarred, but muscled, the kind of hands you would see on a man who'd worked the fields pushin a plow, hands of a man who worked for a living, and wasnt scared to get dirty

“What’s your name?” he canted his head slightly as she took his hand, her fingers tracing the ridges, cuts and various scars as she examined his hand, her touch was gentle, a gentleness he hadnt experienced in.....well.......... the amber od his iris's caught the light as he met her gaze "Logan" he replied, he watched her face, his gaze unwavering, even to her hard stare, and saw a flicker pass over her face but it was gone before he could examine it further, his gaze dipping down to their hands as she'd stilled her movements then back up,

"Friends refer to me as Dark" his voice held the edge of a growl, not to scare or even intimidate, his voice just dropped that low when he was relaxed, or pissed, "and your name......would be?......" he let that question trail off

 

[Light Ice]

The blush that crawl up her cheek could have scorched a match, but the grin was anything but angelic. The caress of the finger along her cheek caused her to turn her head a bit toward the fingers rather then away. Her eyes met his and she laughed a bit to give her skin time to cool and the grim threatening her lips to fade away to a sardonic smile.

"Well there is that?" She drained her glass of the whiskey and gestured for another before returning her gaze once more to the man beside her. "I have a deal for you then..." Her drink arrived and she took a deep breath before continuing, "You want to fuck, I want to play... " Dipping her finger into her glass she spun the ice around a few times stirring the amber liquid seeming to think about something. Bringing her finger to her lips she flicked her tongue along her flesh before sucking it into her mouth cleaning the alcohol from it. Removing the finger slowly she lifted her eyes once more to his.

" I propose a game of high card strip poker, I am sure you are aware of high card?" She watched him for a long minute not waiting for an answer and then continued, "High card wins the item of choice from the opponent and at the end...." she shrugged and smiled..." I guess we fuck."

He abandoned the bar.

When she'd turned into his touch his fingers had brushed along the ridge of her cheek, tracking the blush with the backs of his knuckles grazing silken skin in its wake. A brief respite from the jousting. There was a certain pleasure he took in the back and forth. A paltry pleasure, certainly, but he could make the best of most things. Life required a certain adaptibility. And so, when she parried with an offer, he found it easy to nod as he rose from the bar.

The strength of his hand moved them to find the small of her back. Strong fingers spreading across it, his palm nearly as wide where it narrowed, marking the great physical disparity between them. For all the brutish inclinations his body seemed molded to indulge - his touch remained a tender one. The warmth of his hand against her back, the sillken soft grace of her beneath the thin cotton of the dress, loading a charge into the steadily swelling chemistry. He loved this. The newness of a good connection. The crackling, high-voltage intensity that came from her closeness. His thumb caressed gently, a faint but purposeful affection, as she moved to join him.

"Come on." He said, and lead her away from the bar and those that'd assembled.

Upstairs, he'd lead her. Down an elegant hall. The sound of her heels cutting a staccato rhythm over the bass of his shoes. When they found their destination he drew her in. The private card room hosting two intimate, 10 seat poker tables and each with a seated dealer's pit. Only one table was manned. There were no other players. And, after they'd entered, he'd closed the door behind them.

The dealer was a wisp of a thing. Her dark hair inky black. She was nearly nude save for the garters, heels, and panties. Her breasts were small with dark, tight nipples. Her heritage distinctively asian. She greeted them with an easy smile.

And, after Dest took her seat, he took one beside her. Turned inward, faintly, so that the host of his attention was her softly-featured face.

"It's important to play and play often." He said with an easy smile. A sip of his drink forcing a pause before he finished. "I'm told it keeps us young."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Did you crack those heads only out of necessity? We run a quiet place here, he smirked at her question, sitting back in his chair he let his gaze wander over to the bartender, and eyebrow peaking as the lady before him barked at her to get back to work and he laughed as the women flustered, she knew she'd been caught oogling, his gaze turning back to the lady across the table, "well," his voice rumbled with a hint of laughter "one guy decided to take liberties with a woman in a bathroom, the ladys bathroom that is, that he hadnt paid for, now i just happen to be in the mens room next door when i heard her cry muffled by his hand over her mouth, and well, it wasnt the kinda cry you expect to hear in those places" he made a "whats a guy to do" gesture with his hands before curling them back over his stomach "heard he finally got dentures" he shrugged non-chalantly


"Let me see your hands please.” he blinked at that question, not one he'd expected, and that more then anything intrigued him so he held out a hand to her, it was clean, despite having ridin in fingernails trimmed short, skin was cracked and scarred, but muscled, the kind of hands you would see on a man who'd worked the fields pushin a plow, hands of a man who worked for a living, and wasnt scared to get dirty

“What’s your name?” he canted his head slightly as she took his hand, her fingers tracing the ridges, cuts and various scars as she examined his hand, her touch was gentle, a gentleness he hadnt experienced in.....well.......... the amber od his iris's caught the light as he met her gaze "Logan" he replied, he watched her face, his gaze unwavering, even to her hard stare, and saw a flicker pass over her face but it was gone before he could examine it further, his gaze dipping down to their hands as she'd stilled her movements then back up,

"Friends refer to me as Dark" his voice held the edge of a growl, not to scare or even intimidate, his voice just dropped that low when he was relaxed, or pissed, "and your name......would be?......" he let that question trail off

She listened to his answers carefully as she studied the hand placed in her palm. She ran a well manicured fingernail over the skin on his hand. Rough. Rugged. A man well use to using his hands. For business… as well as pleasure, she was sure. He was a braw man. Intimidating as needed. A man that drew the eyes of the ladies.. and their attention.

“Logan.”

A flicker of recognition came and went. Her fingers still upon his hand. It had been years since this place had been open. Years since she had slid through this establishment as it had once been. Curiosity had lured her here in the first place. She wasn’t sure if Logan and she had ever spoken in this place. They certainly had never “interacted” with each other. She had met Ice here however. Back then, he had little eyes for her. She was but a shadow that sat in corners. He had found her, after a time. Eventually, they became friends. Trust was built between them. The old barn on her property had become his. Sadly, he would not return to it. Ah, well. Time always marched ever forward. Only people’s minds traveled back. Some, from time to time. Others, always looking back and never seeing the present for what it is.

“What’s your name?”

Now, she was on the horns of a dilemma. To use her given name or the one she bore in the neighborhood. The only one to call her Cait was Ice at this point.

“I’m DW.”

She removed her hands from his.

“That’s short for DarkWarrioress.”

She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Well, Logan the job is yours. You start next week at our Grand Re-Opening. Your main job is ‘to be nice until it’s time not to be nice’ to quote a movie. I have one more question for you. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? I saw how you looked around the place when you stepped in. “

 

[LoganDarkHolme]

She listened to his answers carefully as she studied the hand placed in her palm. She ran a well manicured fingernail over the skin on his hand. Rough. Rugged. A man well use to using his hands. For business… as well as pleasure, she was sure. He was a braw man. Intimidating as needed. A man that drew the eyes of the ladies.. and their attention.

“Logan.”

A flicker of recognition came and went. Her fingers still upon his hand. It had been years since this place had been open. Years since she had slid through this establishment as it had once been. Curiosity had lured her here in the first place. She wasn’t sure if Logan and she had ever spoken in this place. They certainly had never “interacted” with each other. She had met Ice here however. Back then, he had little eyes for her. She was but a shadow that sat in corners. He had found her, after a time. Eventually, they became friends. Trust was built between them. The old barn on her property had become his. Sadly, he would not return to it. Ah, well. Time always marched ever forward. Only people’s minds traveled back. Some, from time to time. Others, always looking back and never seeing the present for what it is.

“What’s your name?”

Now, she was on the horns of a dilemma. To use her given name or the one she bore in the neighborhood. The only one to call her Cait was Ice at this point.

“I’m DW.”

She removed her hands from his.

“That’s short for DarkWarrioress.”

She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Well, Logan the job is yours. You start next week at our Grand Re-Opening. Your main job is ‘to be nice until it’s time not to be nice’ to quote a movie. I have one more question for you. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? I saw how you looked around the place when you stepped in. “

He watched the flicker in her eyes, and his head cocked to one side slightly as he watched her, his eyes traveling over her form. Slowly memories had begun to return to him, and he felt her still her touch against his hand, her eyes blinking as memories passed through her mind, and the memory of an Old Barn flashed in his own gaze, and he blinked in recognition, he'd stumbled across her property one winter night looking for shelter, she'd offered him her barn, free room and board if he helped around her run down farm house, but sadly life had forced him to leave far to soon and he inhaled, her scent coming back to him and he relaxed, his smile becoming less forced and more genuine. She pulled her hand from his with some reluctance, once more looking all prim and proper “I’m DW. “That’s short for DarkWarrioress.” he huffed at her clipped tone, the left side of his mouth hitching up in a smirk as he sat back as well, downing the last of his Bourbon he set the crystal glass on the table.

"Well, Logan the job is yours. You start next week at our Grand Re-Opening. Your main job is ‘to be nice until it’s time not to be nice’ to quote a movie." that brought a full belly laugh from him, his head thrown back, shoulders shaking as he shook his head, it was a few minutes before he could compose himself enough to look at her again, his eyes alight with mirth as his shoulders still shook "perhaps i should have said my name was Dalton?" he rumbled. Still tinkling with his deep laugh, the waitress picked up his glass as she strolled by, but he continued to only stare at DW. Her joke had been unexpected, and there weren't many that could catch him off guard like that, she had a sharp mind, and he wondered, if a sharper tongue. Clearing his throat he looked up as the waitress brought him a refill giving him a reason to break eye contact with her. He thanked her as he took the glass from her tray

"I have one more question for you. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? I saw how you looked around the place when you stepped in." his smile faded some, but his smile remained light, and he stared into his glass for a moment or two, nodding, as thoughtful amused smile tilting his lips once more "indeed, not long after it opened under previous management i passed through, ended up staying for a little while. But as with all things, life moved on, and i follow where the winds take me, such is my life as Lone Wolf, the open road is a hard Mistress, but chasing the wind has always been my way, but now i find myself returning to old memories, of friendships long passed, and new friendships........., think ill stick around this time" he said in a somber but happy tone, throwing the glass back and swallowing the entire contents in one gulp and setting the empty glass on the table. His intense amber gaze returning to DW

 

[Destiny]

He abandoned the bar.

When she'd turned into his touch his fingers had brushed along the ridge of her cheek, tracking the blush with the backs of his knuckles grazing silken skin in its wake. A brief respite from the jousting. There was a certain pleasure he took in the back and forth. A paltry pleasure, certainly, but he could make the best of most things. Life required a certain adaptibility. And so, when she parried with an offer, he found it easy to nod as he rose from the bar.

The strength of his hand moved them to find the small of her back. Strong fingers spreading across it, his palm nearly as wide where it narrowed, marking the great physical disparity between them. For all the brutish inclinations his body seemed molded to indulge - his touch remained a tender one. The warmth of his hand against her back, the sillken soft grace of her beneath the thin cotton of the dress, loading a charge into the steadily swelling chemistry. He loved this. The newness of a good connection. The crackling, high-voltage intensity that came from her closeness. His thumb caressed gently, a faint but purposeful affection, as she moved to join him.

"Come on." He said, and lead her away from the bar and those that'd assembled.

Upstairs, he'd lead her. Down an elegant hall. The sound of her heels cutting a staccato rhythm over the bass of his shoes. When they found their destination he drew her in. The private card room hosting two intimate, 10 seat poker tables and each with a seated dealer's pit. Only one table was manned. There were no other players. And, after they'd entered, he'd closed the door behind them.

The dealer was a wisp of a thing. Her dark hair inky black. She was nearly nude save for the garters, heels, and panties. Her breasts were small with dark, tight nipples. Her heritage distinctively asian. She greeted them with an easy smile.

And, after Dest took her seat, he took one beside her. Turned inward, faintly, so that the host of his attention was her softly-featured face.

"It's important to play and play often." He said with an easy smile. A sip of his drink forcing a pause before he finished. "I'm told it keeps us young."

The caress of his hand along her hand was a bit surprising and she turned her head to look at him as he lead her along. The heat along her back through the thin cotton of the sundress made her skin tingle where the contact was strongest felt like fire. Very aware of the man beside her she kept her attention on where she was going and walked beside him with a confident air she didn't truly feel.

"Come on." He said, and lead her away from the bar and those that'd assembled.

Climbing the stairs to the upper halls made her look back into the room they were leaving and she bit her lower lip, her apprehension evident but still she walked. Taking a deep breath she slowly exhaled so that he wouldn't know she was actually nervous of his attentions to her. The decor of the halls was as elegant as the rooms below, understated wealth that caressed the senses instead of blatant opulence.

The private card room was dim without being being too dark, Lights strategically placed to highlight the views of the room, the tables and the very pretty dealers in their 'Uniforms'. She chuckled softly to herself and nodded her head to the girl before taking her seat. When Light settled beside her she huffed a laugh," I don't even know what to call you..." she trailed off trying to act more confident then she felt. She had left her drink downstairs, what she wouldn't do for a new one to magically appear.

"It's important to play and play often." He said with an easy smile. A sip of his drink forcing a pause before he finished. "I'm told it keeps us young."

"Something tells me you play for frivolities though.... Or am i wrong?" She placed her hand on the baize of the table," would you mind if we dealt for ourselves?"

 

[Light Ice]

"L.I," he offered. "And you?"

The room was dimly lit. Card rooms, by nature, were intimate places. By design they were meant to focus your eyes to the playing surface, to the people, and allow the rest to fade into a warm, neutral backdrop. It helped people focus on their cards and the game at hand. It kept people relaxed. The latter of which had become increasingly desire as Poker had grown in popularity across the American Frontier. Pop Culture depictions of shootings at card games were exaggerated but based on a true, and unsettling fact. The great majority of violence in small cattle towns had come across gambling disputes. So, as parlors evolved, so too did the soothing nature of their card rooms.

He didn't need any help when it came to staying focused here. She was an elegant little thing. The slinky black dress clung to gentle, feminine curves and she moved with nearly feline grace at his side.

"Bring her another and leave us." He instructed the dealer. Her faint flush, and almost doe-like jitters around him, caught his attention. DW must have seen something in her. He, most certainly, did not.

His attention rounded back to her and he reached, taking hold of the deck the dealer had abandoned in her hurry out the door, and he slid it casually towards Dest's hands.

"The stakes of the game change." He offered with a faint smile. "But I've found that, regardless, it's important to enjoy them for what they are. Games."

 

[Destiny]

"L.I? as in the letters? Seems kind of impersonal" she looked a bit baffled by the Name and she took a deep breath, wasn't her place to question his choice of monikers. "Destiny, my friends either call me Dest...or Desti... Either fits."

The drink arrived rather quickly and the girl left rather quickly she chuckled a bit as she spoke once more," timid thing... I thought most dealers were more engaging." She gathers the the deck and shuffled it a few times, her finger making quick books to shuffle once more and then slid the deck to him," Will you cut?" She had shuffled the deck like she was used to handling cards and did it well. Her eyes actually sparkled a bit when she lifted then up to his once more.

Reaching for the glass she dipped her finger into the glass to cool it off a bit by swirling the ice and then brought her finger to her lips to suck the fluid from the wet digit, letting it slide once more from her lips. "So to be clear, high card wins... gets a piece of clothing... Game can be ended at anytime at the discretion of the player involved with no penalties. At the start of each hand either of us can end it. Deal?" She swallowed ordering if he would balk at the slight change to the agreement, and held her breath waiting for his response.

 

[Light Ice]

"L.I? as in the letters? Seems kind of impersonal" she looked a bit baffled by the Name and she took a deep breath, wasn't her place to question his choice of monikers. "Destiny, my friends either call me Dest...or Desti... Either fits."

The drink arrived rather quickly and the girl left rather quickly she chuckled a bit as she spoke once more," timid thing... I thought most dealers were more engaging." She gathers the the deck and shuffled it a few times, her finger making quick books to shuffle once more and then slid the deck to him," Will you cut?" She had shuffled the deck like she was used to handling cards and did it well. Her eyes actually sparkled a bit when she lifted then up to his once more.

Reaching for the glass she dipped her finger into the glass to cool it off a bit by swirling the ice and then brought her finger to her lips to suck the fluid from the wet digit, letting it slide once more from her lips. "So to be clear, high card wins... gets a piece of clothing... Game can be ended at anytime at the discretion of the player involved with no penalties. At the start of each hand either of us can end it. Deal?" She swallowed ordering if he would balk at the slight change to the agreement, and held her breath waiting for his response.

"Desti." He said.

Trying it on. It hung neatly on his lips and he found himself favoring it. Her observation of the dealer reinforced his intiatial assumption - but he trusted DW. He'd seen how she had measured and trained the Maids. Even, of course, after he'd went and ruined them. Truth be told those more particular matters he was content to leave to her.

His concerns lay, quite obviously, elsewhere.

There was something in her hands. Slender, neatly manicured nails. They betrayed skill with the cards. Slicing them together, folding them in, with an effortless and practiced hand. But it wasn't the skill with the cards that he saw so well - it was the shape of her hands. Hints of gentle femininity lay everywhere. And, over the felt of the table, the air crackled with tension. The growing swell of chemistry, like static, hanging heavily between them.

Her lips made a perfect bow around that delicate digit, cheeks hallowing. A man would have been a fool to miss it. A man's greater strengths lay in restraint and he found it tested, already, by lavicious inspiration kicking sultry imagines suddenly through his man. He was a man of tremendous appetite and it'd gone unsated for a terribly, terribly long time.

"After you." He offered.

And she drew a card across to her, flipping it. The Jack was a blow that he weathered steadily. Aware, all at once, as his thoughts drifted to what he might have to remove - that he was wearing quite a few more articles than she. An unfair advantage, of sorts, though in the nature of this game it mattered far less than how the game was certain to end. His eyes held her own.

"As a woman that likes to play the odds," he asked as he flipped his card from the top of the deck. There was an ideal non-chalance to it, all of it, with his eyes cutting steadily to hold her own. "What do the odds tell you about our game tonight?"

The King struck the felt, surprising him, though there was fairly a hint of it that he allowed to touch his face. Instead, tapping it faintly, he regarded her with a challenging lift of his brow.

"Tough luck, Desti." He said then, before reclining back some into his seat. "But I'm going to let you choose what you remove. You don't have to extend me the same courtesy. I've a bit more to spend in that way than you."

 

[Destiny]

Her name on is lips made her tilt her head a bit and she smirked, "Sounded like you were tasting it... I hope it felt good on your tongue."

As the cards were once more set before her she took a deep breath, slowly exhaling and seemed to be calmed by the process. Sliding her fingers along the vinyl covered deck she glimpsed it before she tossed it onto the felt. She bit at the inner lower lip seeing her card flip over she sighed softly. Her eyes moving over to the man that sat beside her as she waited for him to pull the card that would start the true aspects of the game.

"Honestly, the thing about odds is even the most unpredictable ones can still end up in your favor." She lifted her drink to her lip taking a small amount along her lips.

When the king hit the felt she shook her head and half closed her eyes, before she rose to her feet, she was a woman of her word and she moved to stand in front of him.

"Hope about we start from the bottom up? As you said... I can choose." Hiking her skirt up a bit she placed her foot on the chair she had been sitting in and caressed her hand along the inner ankle of her left foot and slowly removed the stiletto pump and let it drop to the floor. Wiggling her stocking clad toes a bit she sighed and then twirled her ankle," I truly do hate shoes."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She watched him closely. More specifically, his eyes. She knew the exact moment he remembered her. Her lips turned up into a slight smile.

"Perhaps I should have said my name was Dalton?"

She had to laugh. It was a throaty sound and genuinely amused.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. You have to admit, it fit the moment."

She enjoyed hearing him laugh. It was deep and inviting. Rain brought a refreshed drink to the table for him. This was her sister and a curious one. By blood they weren’t related but they thought alike, as if they had one brain. They had each other’s backs. Normally Rain was a bartender but because they weren’t officially opened yet, Rain covered wherever she was needed.

“Thank you, Rain.”

The gorgeous woman smiled, winked and headed back to the bar. DW's voice was soft and full of affection. Logan took the new drink from the tray, returning his attention to his future employer. She listened to him acknowledging the fact that he knew this place, again she smiled.

“Good. It’s nice to see you again. I was wondering if you’d remember. It’s always nice to revisit some things, even better to enjoy the present. You know what we promote here so feel free to join in so long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties to the House.”


She had insisted Ice where a suit, not that he was going to do otherwise. He had impeccable taste. He looked so....masculine. He smelled good enough to eat and he reminded her of smooth, aged whiskey. She had to put in the effort. She had to do him justice. So she had chosen a black dress cut low in the back. It showed off the curve of her spine and hinted at the curve of her ass. The front was cut just low enough to merely suggest her attributes. Black heels rounded out her ensemble.

“Please feel free to stay as long as you like and reacquaint yourself with the House. While you are working, whatever you drink, is on the House. You're smart and sharp. You'll do just fine. If you need anything, Rain can help you. I’ll see you next week.”

She stood up, facing him, never breaking eye contact and smiled. She held out her hand to him.

“Welcome home, Logan.”

 

[Light Ice]

Her name on is lips made her tilt her head a bit and she smirked, "Sounded like you were tasting it... I hope it felt good on your tongue."

As the cards were once more set before her she took a deep breath, slowly exhaling and seemed to be calmed by the process. Sliding her fingers along the vinyl covered deck she glimpsed it before she tossed it onto the felt. She bit at the inner lower lip seeing her card flip over she sighed softly. Her eyes moving over to the man that sat beside her as she waited for him to pull the card that would start the true aspects of the game.

"Honestly, the thing about odds is even the most unpredictable ones can still end up in your favor." She lifted her drink to her lip taking a small amount along her lips.

When the king hit the felt she shook her head and half closed her eyes, before she rose to her feet, she was a woman of her word and she moved to stand in front of him.

"Hope about we start from the bottom up? As you said... I can choose." Hiking her skirt up a bit she placed her foot on the chair she had been sitting in and caressed her hand along the inner ankle of her left foot and slowly removed the stiletto pump and let it drop to the floor. Wiggling her stocking clad toes a bit she sighed and then twirled her ankle," I truly do hate shoes."

"I haven't had enough to be certain, Desti." He began. And then, after a steady pull from his glass, his eyes sparked with mirth. "But I think I just might have."

The cards would keep them honest. There was something of a thrill in chance. In his life he'd come to find that it made all things equal. A man's plans were only so good as lady luck allowed for them to be in some regards. He'd found a great and earnest respect for it. And now, as she curled her fingers at the hem of her skirt and rose, he'd a great deal of gratitude as well.

There was something beautiful in how coy she'd chosen to be. The single heel clopping gently ontot he floor, laying heavily there despite the thin and delicate shape of it. Even without the heel he found her lean, coltish legs held a stunningly feminine shape. Reflexively, a rough hand curled into a large fist against the bar's edge. His eyes travelled the length of her little limb and then lifted to find her own. She knew exactly what she was doing.

And his appreciation doubled.

In turn, he tipped his drink to her and reached for a new card. "I've a taste for beautiful things but..." he paused, to flip the card and allow the Jack to lay upon the felt beside him. "I think there's something to be said for the old way, don't you?"