An Invitation

“We’ve been expecting you.”

There’s a rhythm to the way she says it. Inviting, confident, practiced. Her mask, some kind of variation on a decorated venetian mask, hides her eyes but does nothing about the rest of her. A black dress that hugs her curves like it was painted on, chestnut hair tied up in a tidy and professional bun but with a cleavage so deep and tits pushed up and together so tight it would be rude to not at least peek.

She smiles at you like you haven’t been standing here ogling her but instead said something charming already without having opened your mouth.

“Welcome to Peaches & Apricots,” she continues, stepping out from behind the desk, stepping in close—so close her scent fills your nostrils, clean like freshly-pressed linen but with an unmistakably expensive jasmine touch.

“Expecting me?” You snap out of it momentarily, long enough to start asking questions. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she says, her smile transforming into a smirk, her finger on your chest, slowly dragging across you as she circles you, “that in the history of our establishment, not a single man has ended up here by accident.”

Alarm bells should be ringing. Fear of death, kidnapping, extortion or maybe just a classic organ theft are all reasonable fears to have right now. But the marble pillars catching amber light match her smile in decadence, pulling a lace veil over your instincts to run.

“Okay,” you sigh, not yet fully given in. “Who are you, then?”

“Tonight, I am your host.” She grabs your hand, and starts leading you down the secret palace. Gold veins run through the walls, culminating in the ceiling in a row of elegant chandeliers, illuminating the hall she’s guiding you through.

“What is this place?”

Her head turns towards you over her shoulder. “A place where you can have whatever you want.”

You stop walking, plant your feet in place, and she stops with you, turning towards you the moment she feels you come to a halt. She looks at you puzzled, like you’re going off-script. All of these experiences are far too new for you, this lifestyle too alien, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to fit in.

“What if I want you?”

You can see the colors of her eyes mellow out, followed up by a little laugh. Before she answers, she sinks to her knees, on the floor in front of you, her legs sticking out from the slits in the sides of her dress, smooth and subservient.

“You can have me.”

Her face tilts up towards you, the mask not nearly enough to cover the playful sweetness she unleashes. Her perfectly glossed lips part slightly as she looks up, takes an exasperated breath, the push and pull of her ribcage pushing out her chest, her hands resting neatly on her thighs.

“Right here. However you want.”

There’s nobody else around. Just you and her, in a hallway meant for kings to feast. Your hands leave your sides, doubtfully finding her cheeks.

“But that would mean making your welcome package wait.”

You stop for just a fraction of a second, but she feels it. She pats her hands on her thighs twice, smoothing her dress as if she hadn’t just offered to suck your cock in the middle of a hallways, gets up without help (which is insane, considering the length of her heels), and asks: “Did that catch your attention?”

You nod, despite none of this making sense yet.

She grabs your hand again, takes approximately two more steps with you in tow and stops in front of a door marked with a strawberry. Turns around to you. Puts her hand flat on the door, gives you a final devious smirk, and speaks: “All we ask is that you shower and brush your teeth before the fun.” She pushes open the door, revealing a room that could rival the most expensive hotel rooms, soft rose gold and black mixing on the walls and in the furniture. “Oh, and do have fun.”

And in the center of it all, on a bed with black and white silk sheets, legs dangling off of the edge but not hitting the floor, is possibly the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

Plump lips. Petite. Cat-eyed. Midnight hair in twin tails. Wearing nothing at all but a bathrobe and white thigh-high socks, the lower end of a bow at the hem of each sock drawing your attention. Currently occupied with eating a strawberry from a bowl on the top of a bar cart parked conveniently next to her. She takes a look at you, lays the half eaten strawberry back in the bowl, and gets a dangerous look in her eyes.

“Hi~ You’re the mega lottery guy, right? I’m Chaeyoung, and I’ll be your canvas for tonight!”

She stays seated on the bed, swinging her legs one by one. Before Chaeyoung can say more, the masked woman next to you speaks: “I’ll let you two get acquainted. And if you still have energy left after you’re done with her, you can still have me.”

You step inside, and the door behind you gets closed, leaving you alone with the self-proclaimed toy.

You look at her. “How did you know I won the lottery? I thought I was keeping that secret hidden pretty decently,” you ask, trying to wrap your head around this whole thing.

She shrugs. “We know everything about our guests so we can give them the best service.” She picks up the strawberry again, and finishes it. “That’s why I’m wearing these socks! You like them, don’t you?”

All you can do is nod, sheepishly. Chaeyoung, in response, jumps off of the bed, and steps towards you, the difference in size growing even more noticeable.

“It’s okay to be a little shy for your first time in a house of pleasure. I’ll guide you, all you need to do is tell me what feels good and I’ll make sure I’ll do it even better.”

“I thought you people knew everything about me? Aren’t you supposed to already know what feels good for me then?” you scoff, brow furrowing.

“Well, if you already had a girl that gave you everything you wanted, you wouldn’t be standing here in front of me, getting hard—” she looks down at your crotch, “—trying to figure out if I’ll be able to lick your balls with your dick down my throat. Which, I can, by the way. You’re welcome to try after you’ve taken your shower. House rules and all that.”

“This is insane,” you mutter. There’s a small step up in a little alcove on the side of the room, a washing basin centrally attached to the wall with a mirror hanging on top of it, and you make your way over to it. On the left side of the basin is an opaque glass door.

You push it open, only to be met with marble walls, tiled floor, a massive rainfall showerhead and enough hygiene products to provide a beauty influencer with a year's worth of content.

So, first things first, you brush your teeth, all the while catching Chaeyoung’s reflection in the mirror goofing around, staring at you as if to say “hurry up!” Your shirt comes off first, she raises her eyebrow, and the rest of your clothes follow fast as you disappear into the shower.

It doesn’t take long for you to see her outline appear in the opaque door, leaning against the doorframe.

“So, do you want me to keep these socks on the entire night or should I be fully naked at some point?” she asks through the door.

“I’d prefer if you kept them on,” you shout back over the running water.

“Mmm, socks stay on. Got it.” You can see her silhouette shift, her back now against the glass as she slides down. “They’re the comfy kind anyway.”

There’s only a couple of seconds of silence before she speaks up again: “So what was that first week like? What’s the first thing you bought?”

You chuckle, knowing how dumb you’re about to sound. “A toothbrush.”

The same silence washes over the conversation, only this time you wish she’d break it.

“Not like, a new car or a fancy watch or anything?” she asks, finally.

“I needed a new toothbrush.”

“See,” she begins, turning towards the door, “that’s what makes me curious about you.”

“That I needed a new toothbrush?” you ask, you yourself turning towards the door as well as you let the shampoo run from your hair.

“No, that everything in your file and everything you’re saying suggests you’re the type of guy to take it slow.”

“And you don’t think I am?”

“Nah,” she laughs. “I think you're the type that thinks they need to hold back but can barely keep themselves from grabbing a girl like me by the hair and shoving your cock straight down her throat.”