4. Demi
DEMI
“Am I close?” The mask alters his voice, but I swear I can hear the real Brian.
He isn’t like the others. Sure, he’s here for the same reason, he wants the kind of thrill that he won’t find elsewhere, even if it is all just a clever illusion. I mean, the clue is in the fucking name: JADED.
But there’s something raw and honest about Brian. He asks questions and listens to the answers. He didn’t come here for a show, he came here because there’s something missing from his life, and unlike with the others, I want to smoothe the ache away and make him feel better.
Jeez! Two weeks on the job, and I’m already blurring the edges between fantasy and reality. I’m not Nyx. I’m not even the woman pretending to be Nyx. I’m here to take down these bastards and start making cracks in the illegal trafficking of women and minors by men who think they’re above the law.
“No.” I keep my voice light.
I want to tell him that he’s so close, it’s almost as if he can see me, but that’s impossible, and besides, it’s better that he has no idea what I look like outside of here.
We’ll never meet. DI Goss’s team isn’t going after the clientele; it’s the men at the top of the trash heap they want to topple from their thrones.
“Damn. I was so certain I was right.”
I smile behind my mask. I don’t know how he did it, and I feel bad for lying to him, but I know what happens when the guests cross a line. I don’t want that for Brian.
“Do you prefer blondes, Brian?”
He’s slow to answer. “I prefer women to be themselves.”
“If I said I have black hair, would it change anything?”
“No.”
I sense him clamming up. Other men come in here and want me to act out their fantasies in the dark complete with a credible soundtrack at the very least. But Brian has zero expectations. And now he’s lying to me.
“I don’t believe you.”
I think he smiles. “So, you’re not a brunette.”
“I never said that.” My pulse ticks a little faster. It almost feels as if he’s twisting the conversation around to get the upper hand, and I need to get it back under control.
“You didn’t need to,” he says. “You wouldn’t lie to me, Nyx, would you?”
Fuck! He can see right through me. “I’ll be honest with you, if you promise to be completely honest with me.”
“Sure.”
“You were right. I am blonde.” I wait for the red light to flash and all hell to break loose, but nothing happens. I’m only doing my job, I guess, allowing the guy to live out his fantasy. I lower my voice. “Do you want to touch me, Brian?”
He shifts in his seat, and I know he’s already hard.
Heat pools low in my belly, and damp oozes out from between my legs.
This hasn’t happened before in this room.
The others walk in here with their suppressed perversions, wanting me to make them feel good about themselves in the dark, so that they can walk outside with their heads held high, and their fantasies locked away again until next time.
Brian’s desires run a lot deeper.
“I don’t know.” His voice is thicker even through the mask. “I don’t want to… I’m not in the habit of using women.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. I can almost imagine Enzo saying the same thing, and I wonder if there will ever be a time when I don’t compare all men to him.
“Don’t think of it as using me. Think of it as unlocking whatever is tucked away inside you.”
“I’m not sure you’d want to see it.”
“Try me.” I move closer.
There are markers on the floor that I can follow with the soles of my feet so that I don’t get too close.
There’s a rigid line warning me against going any further when I’m within touching distance, and now I press my toes hard up against it and stare into the darkness, knowing Brian won’t come into focus because the room is specially designed to prevent it.
Even so, I can smell him. It’s a clean smell; cologne mingled with brandy.
I circle the seat, waiting for him to open up.
“I let someone slip through my fingers.” He groans out loud. “I don’t know why the fuck I’m telling you this, you’re not paid to psychoanalyze me. I should go and—”
“No, stay!” I say a little too quickly. “I want to hear it.”
“Yeah, I guess you can spin me some bullshit advice and get an easy night, huh?”
“You have no idea.” I don’t know where it comes from, and we both chuckle.
“Look, Brian, I’m gonna level with you. I’m naked.
You’re fully clothed, and I only know this because they wouldn’t let you in here otherwise, but it kinda turns me on.
It’s the whole vulnerable thing, you know.
If the lights came on, I’d have nowhere to hide. ”
“And I thought I was here to live out my wildest fantasies, not yours.”
My shoulders drop from around my ears as he starts to loosen up a little. “Tell me about them, your fantasies.”
Brian was spot on when he said this would be an easy night. I get the sense he wants to talk more than he wants me to blow his mind without me touching his cock.
“If you mean fantasies I’ve yet to try out, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because they don’t exist.”
Okay, that’s an interesting take on the subject. “Because you’ve already tried them all?”
“No.” He pauses. “Because I don’t know what they are until I’m in the moment.”
“Until you’re with someone, you mean?”
“Sure. Fantasies aren’t generic. What I want to do to you would be different to what I’d want to do to someone I met in a bar, or someone I was in love with.”
I don’t know why, but this stabs me straight through the heart.
Someone I was in love with.
Past tense.
The ache is still real, and what I really want to do right now is sit on Brian’s lap and ask him to hold me.
Without realizing what I’m doing, I reach out across the boundary circling the seat and get a buzz through the metal bracelet I’m wearing. I’m too close. I need to back off.
What was I thinking? I’ll jeopardize this investigation before it’s even begun, and all because I like the sound of Brian, who isn’t even called Brian, a man who came here to get his kicks because he’s so fucking privileged, he’s jaded in every other aspect of his designer-suited life.
“What was that?” The hard wire in his voice is unmistakable. “What did I just hear?”
“It’s nothing, Brian.” Keep it moving. I can almost hear the control room barking the command and readying themselves to step in.
“Is someone else in here?”
He’s getting suspicious. I’m losing him, and I need to bring it back on track.
“No, we’re alone, I promise.” I force a smile into my voice.
I could let Brian go, tell him there’s nothing I can do for him tonight and send him on his way. But if I’ve misjudged him, he could be the kind of asshole who’d complain about the service being unsatisfactory and cost me my job.
“Are you alright, Nyx?” The concern in his distorted voice feels genuine.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry. For a moment there, you reminded me of someone I used to know.”
“Someone you were in love with?”
“Yes.” The whisper barely reaches my own ears.
But Brian hears it. “What happened?”
I laugh. “Are you psychoanalyzing me now, Brian?”
“Would it turn you on if I was?”
I suck in a deep breath. “Honestly… yes.”
“Tell me about him.”
God, he knows how to hit the seductive spot just right with his tone. The tingling between my legs ramps up a notch.
“He was… he is… beautiful. Not that he knows it and uses it to his advantage. I mean, he does know it but…” I’m rambling. “He’s charming too. He could walk into a crowded room and have everyone eating out of his hand. He’s a gentleman, respectful, considerate, loving…”
“To quote Bill Murray in Groundhog Day: that’s me, me, and me.”
I can’t help laughing. “Classic movie.”
“One of my favorites,” we both say together.
It lands with another tingle that shoots down my spine and applies more pressure to my already aroused pussy. I don’t know how this ended up being about me, but it feels like Brian snuck up on me from behind and isn’t letting me go.
“So, you’re a gentleman too, huh?” My voice trembles.
“Charming, respectful, considerate. I check all the boxes.”
“Are you flirting with me, Brian?”
“What happened to this perfect man, Nyx?” he asks, catching me off-guard.
“He… had a dark side.” I rub my arms to get rid of the goose bumps that just popped.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No!” I blurt out. “He would never hurt me.”
The silence is deafening, and I’m acutely conscious of our conversation being recorded.
“But?” he presses.
“But I knew he would never change.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. “Did you consider that if he changed, he would no longer be the person you fell in love with?”
His words settle inside my head and make themselves at home. “Wow, that’s deep.” Silence. “Yes, you’re right. That’s why I had to walk away.”
“Did he try to stop you?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t give him the chance.”
“Do you think that was unfair?”
“Probably.” Tears sting my eyes and soak into the mask. “I did what I had to do.”
“How do you think he would feel if he knew what you were doing now?”
I know what he’s asking. I walked away from my perfect man because he was a bad boy, and here I am helping strangers live out their sexual fantasies.
But Brian doesn’t know me. The real me.
“He would understand.”
Part of me wishes I could see Brian right now, but then another part of me, the part that has been involuntarily turned on by his voice alone, doesn’t want the anticlimax if he doesn’t live up to the illusion.
“You want to know what I think,” he begins. “On second thoughts, I’ll save it for next time.”
I hear movement. He’s on his feet because he’s ready to leave.
This hasn’t happened to me before. I usually leave the room while the client is coming down from whatever dizzying heights their fantasy has taken them to. Then, when they’re ready, the door is buzzed open and they’re guided towards it by tiny lights that appear on the floor.
“Stay, please.” I’m panicking. I don’t want him to step outside of the circle while I’m still here. It won’t go well for either of us. “You didn’t tell me what you would do to me if we were going to live out a new fantasy.”
“That’s easy… I would hold you in my arms and just talk. I wouldn’t touch you, even though you’re naked, even if you wanted me to. Tonight, would be all about gaining your trust and making you feel safe. I would make you feel special, wanted, desired.”
My breathing is growing shallow. I’ve no idea who Brian is or what he looks like, but I can already picture me sitting on his lap, curled up in his arms while I listen to his steady heartbeat and his gentle voice telling me how special I am.
“It’s what I would do to you next time that should scare you.”
My next client’s fantasy is a simple one: he wants me to make out with Calypso while he masturbates. There are contingency plans for this kind of request. ‘Calypso’ appears in the darkness, and we make a lot of slippery seductive noises while his grunts get louder.
Then we disappear while he cleans himself up with a tissue.
I go through the motions.
After, I get the bracelet removed by a guy who calls himself Michael Douglas.
It might be his real name, and he’s simply cashing in on the actor’s popularity by using it to its full potential.
It might not. I don’t dwell on it. Michael Douglas has olive skin, thick black hair turning silver at the tips that reminds me of cat fur, and a gap between his top front teeth.
“Anything to report?” he asks even though he knows exactly what went on in each of the rooms.
“No.” I give him a tired smile.
“Heading home now?”
We might be regular nine-to-fivers picking up our jackets and heading off to the grocery store to buy something for dinner.
“Think I might go for a walk first.”
My face is sweaty from the mask. I’m afraid to look in a mirror and find my makeup smudged and my hair sticking to my clammy forehead; better to cling to the same illusion of Nyx that I present to the clients.
I couldn’t rock up in my pajamas and with curlers in my hair and give the same performance I gave tonight. I’m simply not that great an actress.
“Unwind. Good idea.” Michael Douglas smiles as if he wants to say more.
But I don’t give him the opportunity. I’m good at that, leaving before others can voice their opinions. Even Brian got it.
I head out the back door where the bodyguard escorts me along a narrow alleyway between buildings and out into the city that’s just starting to wake up.
Earbuds in, I walk towards home. The streets are quiet at dawn, the only people out and about are shift workers and joggers, who all observe their own space on the sidewalk.
Brian’s parting comment has left me feeling uneasy.
Until that point, I’d enjoyed his company enough to open up to him about Enzo, I’d even come close to ruining everything by reaching out and touching him.
I thought he was a decent guy. Convinced myself that even decent guys have sufficient funds and moments of madness where they choose to visit a club like JADED.
Because I still compare every man I meet to Enzo.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I broke my own rules and let him in, and he manipulated the entire session to his advantage.
Replaying the conversation in my head, it’s obvious now that I never had control, not from the moment he sat down.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and he played me straight into his hands before delivering the punchline.
It’s what I would do to you next time that should scare you.
It does scare me. I can still hear his distorted voice now as if he’s standing right behind me and whispering in my ear.
The problem is that it excites me too.