- 9 -
White and gold light swirl around me. Both Bella and my hallway vanish as I step forward into the portal. As the light ebbs, something even more magnificent fills my vision.
A vast room opens before me. Music plays from an unknown source relaxing and alluring, while soft lights like fireflies or falling stars twinkle through the air. I step forward, mesmerized, to the carved handrail of the balcony hallway I’m in—it’s one of many interior balconies that wrap around the edges of the theater-like room.
So this is the lounge? Wow.
Down below is the main floor. Velvet cushions and long chaise chairs are placed tastefully around the space, each with an accompanying table or stand. While the majority are arranged within sight of the low stage in the heart of the room, some are grouped more secretively around the edges. Silk curtains flutter at the edges. It’s hard to tell from up here, but it looks like there are smaller, more private rooms beyond.
Perhaps it’s the sheer size of the room or the careful design, but although nearly every table and seating area is occupied, the lounge doesn’t feel full. From the glamorous furniture to the painted ceiling far above to the well-dressed fellow guests, the lounge boasts the most splendid décor I’ve ever laid eyes on—yet nothing comes close to what really steals the show:
The women.
Throughout the lounge are the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And there are so many of them!
An elf lady draped in vermilion silk is relaxing on one of the chaise lounge chairs. Her blonde hair is done up in an elegant knot, with long strands curling around her pointed ears. She leans forward with a seductive smile to brush her naked foot over the lap of the woman kneeling in front of her. Guessing from the kneeling woman’s dress—pretty, but nowhere near as elegant—I can assume she’s likely a guest.
A flash of color pulls my gaze to the stage. A courtesan has stepped into the center of the room. Several of the floating lights drift down to hover above the stage as guests settle in the cushions at the edge. The soft glow illuminates the silk wrapped from the tips of the woman’s curling horns down to the silvery gleam of her polished hooves.
As the music changes to a faster and more seductive tune, the woman lifts her arms and spins. She slowly peels off the strip of silk hugging her waist, revealing the soft curves of her furred stomach. The next piece of silk frees her tail, and as she swirls to the edge of the stage and tosses the material into the crowd gathered, her long bovine tail sweeps gracefully behind her. Although her mouth remains covered by silk, the seductive sparkle in her coal-rimmed is so powerful that I can feel it way up here on the balcony.
Illustria, save me. They’re all so hot.
I pull back from the banister. Something is tight in my chest, and I honestly can’t tell if it’s excitement or nerves. Probably both.
Right. Time to do… well, time to do one of them.
Swallowing, I turn back to double-check that the gold and yellow spiral is still twisting on the wall. It’s still there, and I don’t see any others. This hallway is sparsely decorated, with only a few gold-leaf vases and potted ferns placed at intervals along the wall. It doesn’t look like I have to worry about accidentally using someone else’s portal. Maybe my portal only activates for me? I’ll have to ask Bella the next time I see her.
I head to the end of the hall and descend the curling staircase to the next balcony. It looks similar to the floor above, but more decorated—bookshelves rest along the wall and numerous small tables hug the banister.
Deciding this is a bit more private than the main floor while also offering a good vantage point to figure this out, I step off the stairs and head to a table.
The tables closest to the stairs are occupied by guests. At the first table, two women sip glasses of wine as they watch the performance on stage. A neatly dressed woman with long rabbit ears takes up the next table, which has been piled up with books from the shelves. The book on top of the stack depicts a very well-endowed elf woman squeezed between two muscular merladies, their tails holding her legs open. None of them are wearing anything.
I quickly avert my eyes and take a seat at the next open table. This one also has a book on it—along with a small, golden bell and a quill pot. Thankfully, the cover of this book is less embarrassing to have in front of me. The book’s leather coating is dyed crimson to match my envelope, with the words ‘The Sapphic Satyr’ etched in gold.
This must be the courtesan book Bella told me about.
I reach out, my fingers brushing over the gold lettering, but the sound of applause has me pulling back my hand.
A glance over the railing reveals the dancer—now entirely naked on stage—is dipping into low bows as the gathered audience claps and whistles. With a final wave and a wink, she leaps off stage and begins to mingle with the guests. Her heavy breasts and dark nipples are visible for only a moment before she’s blocked from view by the swarm of admirers.
I realize I’m leaning into the banister. I sit back down and pat at my spotless robes. As I do, I spot a dogfolk woman in familiar clothes crossing the floor below.
Bella?
The woman has the same golden hair, but as I look closer, I see that this woman’s muzzle is shorter than Bella’s, and tinged with darker fur. She is wearing the same dress of crimson and gold that Bella was wearing, though. And she’s not the only one donning the look. Several other women dressed the same meander through the space carrying wine, books, and envelopes like the one in my hand.
They must be the serving girls. What did Bella say? I should ring the bell and give them my envelope, right?
I set my envelope on the table and take out the parchment paper inside. My hands have gotten a bit sweaty, but luckily the paper is spotless. It looks as crisp as when Bella handed it to me.
Okay. You got this, Lex. Just pick a courtesan and send her a note. Easy.
The only question is—who?
I peer over the handrail and see two serving women collecting the remaining silks on stage while a professional-looking woman begins to tune a stringed instrument. Across the hall, the minotaur dancer is escorting a dwarven lady with white hair up a large staircase.
Looks like the dancer’s taken for now. That’s fine. How about…
I sweep my eyes over the hall. There are so many gorgeous women; it’s impossible to pick one out over another when they sparkle like jewels in a treasure chest. Until my eyes land on a splash of red.
The fiery gleam of her horns is like a spark against the more humble crimson of the decorations. She struts through the dead center of the lounge wearing obsidian-black heels that could easily kill someone. Fine threads of black crisscross over her sharp curves, accentuating every inch of her flawless skin and hiding nothing. If the self-assured look of confidence she radiated isn’t enough of a clue, the long, spade-tipped tail swishing behind her gives it away.
Holy Illustria—is that a succubus?
The succubi and incubi that serve the Goddess Ventrair are hardly ever seen outside of the city of Areos to the far south. The “city of divine pleasure” is rumored to keep Ventrair’s attendants busy and, supposedly, satisfied. This is the first time I had seen a succubus in person and the rumors did nothing to warn me.
She’s gorgeous… and way out of my league. Seriously.
All of the women here are breathtaking, but a woman like that would eat an acolyte like me as a snack. I’d probably die the second she looked my way.
Still…
As if drawn by magic, I can’t look away as the succubus woman lowers herself onto a lounge chair. She smiles, and I have no doubt she can feel everyone’s eyes on her as she slowly spreads her legs and leans back into the chair. The thin strands of her fishnet covering do nothing to hide and only enhance the forbidden view of the pink space between her legs.
I know I’m leaning into the railing again, but I can’t stop—until someone steps in front of the succubus.
It’s a catfolk woman. She looks like another courtesan, or perhaps a really well-dressed guest, but the long fur that poofs around her shoulders and fluffy tail sweeping at her heels unlock forbidden memories. She’s shorter than Elsie and her fur is striped rather than uniform, but even so, the vague similarities to my ex have me cascading back to my senses in an unpleasant way.
Damn it.
I fall back into my seat, looking down. I’ve been trying very hard to not think about Elsie these past four months. Time has been a bandage on the wound of our breakup, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t still hurt.
Tugging my lip with my teeth, I press my palms together under the table. It’s almost instinctual now when Elsie or any pretty woman comes into my thoughts—I begin to mentally recite one of the basic prayers to Illustria.
As the sacred words float through my mind and help anchor my focus, I slowly start to feel better.
A shame I’m not going to be able to pray when I’m with the courtesan.
Speaking of, it’ll be great to get this first night over and done with. Remembering Elsie recalled why I don’t want to be here in the first place—and also why I need to get through this all the same. A few nights of this and I’ll be in the clear to enjoy a life of temple serenity.
I close my eyes with a sigh.
Just gotta make it through somehow.
My heart nearly stops as a deep and elegant voice speaks next to my ear.
“Oh, hello there. Haven’t seen your face before.”
