In they went, then - four women following a fifth into the darkened corridors of an unfamiliar establishment. Purity first, of course - then Lulu, then Zofia, then Est... and the blonde ghoulette in last, taking up the rear.
Esper James's brain was stewing like fresh chuck, the pot of her brain devoid of any vegetal adornment. What the fuck was this? What was this place? She... well, she'd love to say she trusted Purity. But after everything? Not telling them a lick of information about where they were going, or who would be offering them shelter? And what the conditions may be?
Only a begrudging sort of trust could well up within the carnivore's heart, and even that trust was tenuous.
In some distant place, through walls she could only presume were made from concrete, EJ heard a thudding bassline hammered out. The same sort of club music, meant to rile the flesh and dull the inhibitions, that EJ had been inundated with since a few weeks ago. Since she had met Purity, really - and how fitting, the blonde thought with a wry half-grin, that the pink-haired pleasure doll had dragged her back to them. The music alone was a tell, sure... but something in the air only confirmed Esper James's suspicions.
The wetness of sweat and perfume was rich in these darkened halls, drifting in from somewhere unseen yet seemingly all around. The entire building, it felt as they walked, was mired in some sort of aphrodisiac haze - not the measured pheromones of a vampire, no, but a musk in the air that drowned one's senses in implied lust.
Something else tingled at EJ's nostrils, ghoulish senses made to sniff out blood instead drawing in an undercurrent which most first-living would completely miss. She looked to Est, and Zofia, and Lucretia to see if they had picked up on it... but the three Wayward women were focused on keeping their eyes straight ahead and their stances taut. They wanted to seem attentive; they wanted to be good little ducks for Purity to arrange in a row.
Sex. The heat, and the slick, and the communion of flesh and breath and racing blood beneath supple flesh. It played the wingman to whatever aromatic anesthesia this place used to lull one's mind into a sense of security and desire. Just another thing that had been burned into Esper James's brainpan like a brand as of late, and with that, another thing that Purity had been the instigator for.
There was a part of EJ that yearned to give her lover the benefit of the doubt - to simply say that old habits surely must die hard, and in times of trouble, humans are creatures of habit. They turn to the familiar for comfort; of course Purity would drag them to such an establishment to find refuge, even if it was a life that the pinkette had so strongly avowed that she hated. That she would rather meet true death like the coming dawn, rather than return to. And yet...
...and yet, Purity had been so deceptive recently. So shifty, so fucking shady, so very... eugh, what was the word? Whatever. Esper James couldn't think of another synonym, but it didn't matter - she got the point across to herself, at least. Purity had been less than trustworthy in recent days, and now, walking through the back halls that reeked of hedonistic indulgence and primal lust, she was given to thought on it.
The quintet (Slab had stayed behind, of course) reached a set of stairs and mounted them without delay, Purity still swaying her hips with every step, seeming oh so very pleased with herself. The way she bore herself, and the way she was moving, and the little flicker of a smile that played at her lips whenever she turned back to ensure she was being followed? Esper James thought they were reminiscent of a hunting hound back with fresh meat for its master: proud, smug even, and so very assured of its own abilities. Another successful hunt.
And the quartet of women that Purity led deeper into this viper's den were the raw and ragged meat in that loyal dog's jaws. Rabbits taken in powerful fangs, rent to shreds only enough to kill - but not to destroy. There would be no buyers for a ravaged pelt, after all.
The stairs were tall, and just as lightless as the rest of this place. The lack of luminescence was implication of an a completely second-living staff, Esper James noted - more men and women like Slab, or perhaps even vampires. There was a brief, bitter flicker of hope in the ghoulette's heart that maybe they employed ghouls - but it was snuffed as a candle before bed would be, before any excitement might take root.
There was no way a place like this would employ ghouls. Ghouls were physical labourers, or they were pencil pushers, or they were private security. When you've been manipulated on a genetic level to be stronger and faster and more perceptive than your kindred, but also hungrier for the meat of said kin? There weren't many places that would take you. Plus, plenty of employers didn't want their cashiers, or bartenders, or dancers, or this or that or the other thing, showing off their big ol' fangs to customers. Vampires were fine - people thought their fangs were hot. Ghouls? Too many. Too unnatural.
Finally they had reached the top of those mountainous stairs, and EJ was surprised to find that it was even darker up here - nearly pitch-black, save for a window at the end of the lone corridor they were now faced with. Purity stopped, then; she whirled about on a heel, turning and leaning down just so to address her cadre of shorter companions.
"Hey, girlies. So. I... I know I've been pretty hush-hush about all this. I promise, though, we'll have rooms... We'll get fed... We'll be protected. We'll be safe. And you won't need to do any work at all! Except, well..." In the dark, Purity's LEDs glowed now like beacons of a kingdom desperate for aid - or spotlights used for hunting, to stun nocturnal animals. They had returned to the dragonfruit pink they often flickered to when she was desperate for touch.
Her gaze drifted coyly over to Esthrielle and Esper James, a new sort of grin drawn across her face with all the delight and danger of a knifeplay enthusiast's very first cut. "...eheheh...~ I could of course use my beautiful lovers' help, should they be willing to offer... but enough of that! We'll talk more about that later. Here, here, just - just let me do the talking, unless she addresses you. It'll be easier for everyone that way, okay?"
EJ balled her hands into white-knuckle fists at her sides. Her body was screaming at her to speak up, to cry out in rage at the injustice of being relegated to mere table dressing. And frankly, that was disregarding the unease in her gut at whatever the fuck Purity could have meant by 'helping' her. There were no good answers that EJ could come up with for what kind of 'help' Purity could possibly need. Would they be luring people in, like sidewalk hawkers? Demeaning, but not that bad in the long run. Getting people into these back rooms to be killed, or eaten, or extorted, or coerced? Horrid. But worse still?
Esper James thought to the lingering taint in the perfume of the first floor, which seemed to be absent from this one. The sex - the mingling of strange bodies and stranger flesh, worship at the altar of momentary pleasure. A chill ran down her spine even as a knot formed in her stomach. Were they going to be expected to sell themselves for their keep? Were they going to be whored out in exchange for some dingy room in a cold, damp basement?
She was given no further time to ponder the group's fate. Purity took their silence (the three Easterners had nodded their assent) as a positive response and whirled back around, leading the group to the door at the end of the hall. It was just beside the window, set into the next wall over; the door itself was unadorned but was visibly some sort of heavy wood, lacquered and given a single bit of garnish: an engraved nameplate made of brass. The Madame, it read - and those words sent the chill in EJ's spine coursing out to the rest of her like an avalanche's spread.
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Purity knocked in the same way as she had at the door outside, and then stood up straight as an arrow. She was obviously doing all she could to seem presentable, despite the 'Pussy Magnet' shirt and the lack of proper winter attire. Hell, she didn't even have any makeup on - and for someone like Purity, that was worse than being nude.
Time stretched in taffy-like perpetuity as they waited for a response, any indication that there was even a person on the other side of the door. Esper James found herself hoping that whoever this 'madam' (or was it madame? Maybe she was from the ERFS, originally?) was would be absent from her office. No such luck.
"Come in, Purity. We've been expecting you."
The voice was sultry and sleek, a sheet of satin or silk that one could dive into and swaddle themselves up in its richness. It was a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter's day, full of cream and with just enough sugar that the sweet danced with the bitter. It held a tone which commanded respect and radiated power, a silken glove over an iron fist. Esper James couldn't help but be a bit cowed in her rage as the woman's dominance washed over her, all the previous rage she had been concealing in her heart placed in an ice box.
Purity took a deep breath, chest rising and falling along with her shoulders. She reached out, the muscles on her arm taut and her hand locked by force of will. The plain handle was taken and turned, and the door pushed inward to give egress.
Purity disappeared into the office, beckoning as discreetly as she could to follow along behind. The Waywards did as instructed - they were ever so good at following orders - and slipped in at her heels. Finally, it was Esper James's turn. She took a moment, one single breath, to try and see what her senses could tell of her of the office before she made her appearance.
There was another scent here - another sort of perfume, but much more akin to the convent than the Jezze; closer to Judas than to Luca. Some sandalwood and jasmine and oud, something deep and musky and heavy that evoked imagery of ancient libraries and the tombs of emperors. It was just as powerful as the woman's voice - it was the sort of aroma cultivated by a sultan or a king, not the primal fragrance of a harem. That was almost more worrying, EJ thought. Whoever this woman was had removed herself so far from the Gehenna below that even the sounds of music, and the scent of sex, were eschewed.
That was another thing, actually. It was... quiet. Dead quiet, save for the gentle breathing of those within. No music at all... no city streets where vehicles trundled or roared, no click of clocks or hum of electricity or gentle whir of machinery. There was... nothing at all, save the softest sounds of life one could make.
Fuck. She was psyching herself out with all this inspection. The ghoul steeled herself and pushed the door inward, making sure to close it as quickly - and as gently - as she could.
The office was a shock to see, for a myriad of reasons. Bookshelves sat in each corner, paired to lay along either wall. These bookshelves were laden with heavy tomes both modern and outdated, their worn bindings each showing they had been victims of a voracious repeat-reader. They, too, were wooden - a darker kind than the wood, but the same make as the desk.
Oh, the desk. A broad and formidable object, it was very neatly but very heavily burdened by papers, more books, a single hourglass, and a... a gun? Oh, wow. That was most certainly a handgun sitting beside the portfolios off to the right side of it... a custom work, and very expensive by the floral engravings that enveloped its exterior. That alone nearly made Esper James whip around and sprint out of the room... but she had learned better self control than that at Tsang. Besides, she would have felt awful to leave her lovers and friends alone with whatever woman called this office her place of rest.
Further decor all leaned towards a similar baroque style, as if in explicit defiance of the debauchery on the ground floor. Paintings of melancholy landscapes... A single sculpture of a skull being devoured by a snake... Belladonna in a pot, and by its look, it was real... Esper James couldn't help but shiver at all of this. She cleared her throat as subtly as she could manage, daring only then to even look at the woman behind said desk.
Given ample backlight by the enormous arched window behind her, the woman who sat in the lavish leather chair was every bit as intimidating as the aura she cultivated would have led one to believe. Waves of darkly tanned skin in rich chestnut hue acted as the veneer for her notable musculature, the latter barely concealed beneath a slinky dress of ebon silk; her hair was as if waves of the deepest India ink had been given life, and now spilled from her crown. Intense features were drawn into a smug, self-assured smile; her dense but sculpted brows were bent down over golden-amber eyes to scrutinize these newcomers even as she smiled at them.
Oh. Oh. Her smile.
Esper James nearly fell to the floor as she noticed. The red flecks in her irises were a hint - but such ocular cosmetics were a popular augmentation, even for the first-living. Her teeth, though, were a dead giveaway - the way each resembled an ivory stake, made to rip and rend and tear and torture whatever flesh it dug into. She could have shorn flesh from bone with those terrible implements without a second thought - and now, they were proudly displayed for all in attendance to gaze upon.
EJ fidgeted awkwardly where she stood - she hadn't gotten close enough to the rest of the group to really feel in the correct position by time she had been hit by the shock of it all, but now that she was being leered at? Her feet wouldn't, couldn't, move. Only when the woman raised her right hand and beckoned with a curled finger did Esper James feel freed from whatever impulse had locked her in place.
"Come here, little girl... come on, now... I don't bite. Hahaha... Unless, of course..." The woman trailed off as if to leave the rest up to one's imagination, and imagine is exactly what Esper James did. Her first thought, of course, was when Esthrielle had bitten her at the Jezze - the rush of lust, the lightning rippling through every neuron and every nerve ending in her body. The raw sensation of it all. However, that memory was quickly wiped away to make room for the other suggestions.
Cannibalism was the second fate implied, and the one that scared EJ the most. This woman was second-living! She had to know that Esper James wouldn't satiate her appetites, right? And yet... Perhaps, for such a person, that was part of the thrill. Perhaps it was the unnecessary nature of the cannibalism that was the goal: owning another person so wholly, so indisputably, that you could eat of them and drink of them as freely as you chose, simply to do it. Simply because you could.
The other ideas that came were metaphorical biting: to punish, to attack, to assault, to berate, to degrade... To inflict harm, in any sense. Those would have been preferable to cannibalism, at least. By time Esper James finished this line of mental inquiry, she realized she had walked all the way to the edge of the desk - in front of all of her entourage. In front of Purity, the woman who was supposed to be her shield in this place, who had sworn up and down that they'd be fine if they just did as told.
Well, Purity? Esper James was doing as she was told - she was nothing if not obedient, after the decades of corporate bondage. Ha ha ha. There was no mirth in Esper James's mind or heart, even as her inner voice laughed so bitterly at Purity's inefficacy to stop whatever was about to happen. What the fuck was going to happen?!
The woman looked Esper James up and down - even using the same finger which had beckoned to direct EJ to twirl. The blonde was nothing of not obedient, as stated, and in this moment she couldn't even be humiliated by her own rush to comply. The woman's grin dissipated as she watched Esper James dance to her tune, jerking as her little marionette strings were pulled. After she had completed her spin, she stood with a docile, submissive hunch to her stance, waiting patiently to be addressed again. She didn't need to wait very long.
"Hmm-hmm-hmm, ahahaha, alright... Well. You aren't nearly as scary as they make you seem on the news, Esper James Price-Wynnfield." The woman's grin returned in full force, then - bolstered by the chorus of gasps and the sight of five pairs of eyes widening to saucer-like enormity.
Esper James looked to Purity. Purity looked to EJ, then to the woman, then to EJ. They both looked at Est, and Zofia, and Lucretia. Frankly, it seemed like this shock and awe may proceed for a great long while - but then, the woman snapped her fingers, and the quintet shut their yaps and turned to face her.
This devious domina shut her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of her own, before releasing it in a drawn-out huff laced with contentment. She continued to address Esper James directly, leaning forward ever so slightly in her chair so that she may steeple her fingers with the desk's assistance.
"You know... You don't really look like you're a five million dollar bounty, little lamb. And I don't want to work with Tsang, anyways... but I'll find some way to wring that money out of you~" She winked. It was the last thing Esper James saw before she felt herself drop to the floor in a dead faint.