Page 14 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

The bubbly brunette smiles brightly. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she’s wearing a skimpy bodysuit made of flesh-colored nylon and black and pink lace dotted with rhinestones. “Well, I’m Nadia, like Amber said. Also, I go by Cinnamon.”

Another girl pipes up and voices her name. She has long, wavy, sandy-blonde hair and big green eyes. “I’m Jenna, a.k.a., Spice.” Her voice sounds youthful. Like she’s barely eighteen. She, too, is scantily clad in lingerie.

The rest of girls introduce themselves in a rush—Aimee, Deborah, Alicia, Rose—all with nicknames of their own. All together, including Amber and myself, there are eight of us.

“Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, we need to get you dressed. Stat.” Amber addresses me. “Nadia, Rose, please pick out something for London to wear. Shoes and all. Size eight, correct?”

I nod.

“Figured.” She smirks before amicably pushing me toward a door to the left. “Let’s get you showered quickly.” She opens a drawer under the sink. The bathroom is immense with a white and purple marble vanity, crystal fixtures, and a large, round soaking tub inset in a bay window. “We have twenty minutes before we have to be downstairs.” She hands me a black elastic band. “Hair up, wash off,” she instructs.

Amber turns the shower on as I wind my red strands into a bun. I look at her as I’m about to strip. She doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Noticing my confusion, she states matter-of-factly, “Oh, go on, there’s no room for modesty here. We may very well be naked with each other later on tonight. I have a feeling you’re going to pique a lot of interest.” She casually checks her lipstick in the mirror. I’m not modest by any means. As I pull my dress over my head, Amber pauses, eyeing my bare body through the mirror. No bra or underwear underneath. There’s a keen sense of intrigue glazing over her stare. I’m used to that look by both men and women alike. Desire. Lust. It’s like those two things follow me everywhere. They’re my curse and my saving grace. They placed me in my current predicament and simultaneously saved my life. A life I’m still trying to figure out how much is worth.

I slide into the shower and wash off, with Amber’s eyes glued to me. Her stare doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It provides an advantage. She’s attracted to me, and I know how to manipulate that.

“How long have you worked here?” I probe as I pour some liquid soap into my hand.

“A little over five years. I’m the last original.”

“Original?” I ask as I lather up my body. Slowly, directly facing Amber.

“I was one of the six original girls hired by Jett when Mansion was established,” she explains, highly aware of the movement of my hands over my perky breasts and flat stomach.

“What happened to the others?”

Amber shrugs one shoulder. “They moved on. Jett pushes us all to be better. To be more. To have goals. They all reached for them.”

“And you?” I wash the frothy soap from my body, inhaling the calming scent of eucalyptus percolating from the suds.

“I haven’t found my more yet. I’m content for now.” Amber looks down at the ground, a melancholy tone in her voice. I wish I could feel for her. I wish I could feel anything, but my empathy button has been broken. Smashed to smithereens is more like it.

You’re nothing.

No one.

I turn the shower off with a chill. It’s not from the cold; it’s from the emptiness. Amber hands me a towel as I step out.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” There’s a softness in her eyes. It’s a little bit sad, and a little bit sympathetic. No matter how nice your surroundings or expensive the clothes or elite your company, you’re still only one thing. An object. To use, to play with, and then discard. Like a cheap plastic toy. There are no feelings or investment in who you are. You dispense pleasure. That’s your sole purpose for existing. To fuck and be fucked.

Spread your legs, and shut your trap.

I suppress the memory, drying off in a hurry.

“Why do you all have nicknames?” I wonder aloud.

“Jett gives them to all the girls. Adds to the fantasy aspect. It’s sort of Mansion’s unofficial slogan. Live your fantasy. Whatever sexual request the client has, Jett is pretty talented at delivering it.” Amber takes my towel and tosses it into the corner once I’m dry. “Didn’t he give you one?”

“No.”

“He will, I’m sure.” She devours my naked body with her eyes before taking my hand and leading me back into the dressing room.

“Clothes are on the seat,” one of the girls, I think her name is Alicia, points at a vanity.

“Perfect.” Amber hurries me over. “Quick, put this on.” She scoops up the ensemble before she starts digging around in multiple drawers. I slip on the scrap of material made entirely of fine lace. The violet and champagne scalloped neckline plunges past my belly button, delicate ribbon is used as a halter to keep the sheer bodysuit in place, and the cherry on top—a healthy slit cut in the satin material covering the sweet spot between my legs. Talk about easy access. A few kisses of cold air and I’m going to be soaking wet. Part of the appeal, I’m sure.

“Wow!” Amber gives me a once-over. “You fill out that teddy like it was made for you. The guys are going to lose their minds.”

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