Part 01 - Malevolent Manor Fantasy

"Sir, your ticket," says the attendant in the driveway.

Chaménos shakes his head, startled, as if being jostled awake. He looks at the spry youngster. The teen wears a black suit and holds his hand out, expectantly.

"Uh, how did I get here?" says Chaménos.

"Uber I assume?" says the attendant.

There's a car pulling away down a well kept road leading away from the cobblestone spot where they stand.

"No. I mean..." but Chaménos pats his pants and looks down.

He wears a tuxedo that smells of sandalwood in the summer air. In his confusion, he finds his phone not in his pockets, but in the suit jacket. He takes it out. It's dead. But the ticket is tucked into the wallet on the back of the phone. He takes it out.

"May I have your ticket sir?" asks the attendant again.

"Where am I?" asks Chaménos. The attendant's face twists away from a smile to slight concern.

"Molevalant Manor, sir. For the party?" he says.

Chaménos looks around and is shocked by the massive British style mansion bathed in yellow light atop a hill. The lush green grounds roll down from the manor that flank a decadent set of stairs lined with ornate lamps. Some forests are scattered around, hiding the road that swallows the car that he just arrived in.

Am I dreaming? He thinks. He tries to recall how he arrived, but his memory fails him. He cannot recall the last memory prior to this. Here-and-now is all that matters, but he fights the feeling. He looks down at the ticket. It's of fine paper with gold lettering embossed with silver and gold leaves.

"The Glove Ceremony of Mistress Lilith?" he reads.

"Well that sounds interesting," says the attendant. Chaménos snaps his head up at the boy and furls his brow.

"'Sounds interesting'? You mean you don't know what this party is about?" asks Chaménos.

"Well no sir, but now I have a better idea," he says.

The attendant reaches out and takes his ticket, scanning the QR code on the back with a little black box at his chauffeur stand, then drops it in a slot. Chaménos shakes his head, confused with the boy in front of him.

"But... Wait, what's going on? How did I get here?" Chaménos asks again.

"Your Uber," the attendant says again pointing down the road.

"Not..." Chaménos squeezes his eyes with his fingers in frustration. "No, what I mean is; I don't have any memory or recollection of how I got here."

"Did you fall asleep in the car?" asks the attendant.

Holy fuck, this kid is thick as a bar of soap he thinks. Chaménos turns around, listening to only cicadas and seeing fireflies.

"If this is a party, where is everyone?" he asks.

"Inside. As soon as one person arrives and walks inside, another one drives up. I haven't seen anyone hanging around other than that," he says.

"How many people have arrived already?" asks Chaménos.

The kid shrugs.

"I dunno. I haven't really been keeping count," the attendant says.

Chaménos, feeling frustration build in him, decides to give up. He looks at the dead cell phone in his hand. Whatever this is, he decides that he's not going to stay. But he needs a way home.

"Do you have a phone charger in there?" Chaménos asks, pointing to his chauffeur stand. But the attendant points to the decedent mansion on the hill.

"That's one thing I do know. They have fast chargers inside in the foyer," he says. Chaménos doesn't say goodbye and sets off up the walkway of stairs to the mansion.

#

Chaménos notices, as he climbs toward the mansion, that his steps are light and he feels in shape, like he was when he was young. When he gets to the elaborate gold door, he pulls it, having to use two hands. It swings open slowly, and he does his best to bring it close as he enters. He feels like he shouldn't have been able to do that as easily.

The foyer is engulfed in satin red carpets and tapestries. The chandelier at the top glistens with candlelight that casts strange shadows on the maroon couches in the center lined with gold trimmings. There are sets of marble stairs that lead to a second level with several double doors. Wooden mahogany statues of Greek goddesses act as banisters and columns.

Chaménos regards the strange waiting room for a moment, then looks about for the charger that he seeks. He sees another man in a tuxedo standing at the wall of black glass with little red blinking lights, looking through it. Chaménos walks over. The dignified man looks at him as he approaches. Chaménos gets the feeling that he knows this person, but can't place how.

"Are those the chargers?" Asks Chaménos. The man is tall with sandy hair and looks lost.

"Yeah, they're little charging compartments. But when I put my phone in there, it closed and I don't see any way of opening it. It must only open when it's fully charged or something. But look how many there are," he says.

Chaménos looks to see dozens of phones all behind black glass and blinking red. Looking at his phone, he figures he has no choice. He pushes one of the compartments and plugs his phone into it. He snaps it back shut, and it locks with a whirl. The light goes red.

"Hey, are you here for this party thing? Whatever it's called?" asks Chaménos to the sandy man.

"Well... Yeah I guess. Are you?" says the man.

"No, not really. But... Hey, do you know where this is? I mean this mansion. What city or county are we in?" asks Chaménos.

"I have no idea," says the man. "I just found myself on the steps next to this oblivious car chauffeur who yanked the ticket out of my hand," he says.

Seeing that they were in a similar situation, Chaménos invites the man to sit in the ornate armchairs in the lobby. The man introduces himself as Perdita. They sit and try to work through how or why they are there. But the answers are the same conclusions that Chaménos drew earlier; No recollection of much before or how they arrived. No idea what the party is about. No clue how they were dressed in black ties they clearly didn't own. But the same feeling that stirs within: only here-and-now matters.

"Well if this is a party, then where is it?" asks Perdita.

There's a faint libidinous laugh that comes from the second level. It sounds like a woman's. A soft sensual music starts to mix with the short muffles of laughter. There's more than one. They both look at each other, understanding that the question was just answered. Chaménos struggles against the feeling, knowing that his original plan is to leave. Perdita rises and begins to walk toward the mahogany stairway on the right.

"Wait. Don't get sucked into this. I don't like the feeling of this place. Let's just stay in this waiting area for our phones and then get out of here," says Chaménos. But Perdita doesn't turn around.

"I don't think we can," he says, placing a hand on the banister of the stairs.

"What do you mean? The door is right--," but as Chaménos points toward the entrance, the heavy golden door he hauled open earlier isn't there. Instead, there's a grand bookshelf that reaches to the ceiling, flanked by two wooden statues of women with bat wings.

Chaménos' heart starts to rise in his chest as he looks around. There are no other doors on the level of this floor. No way out except the double doors on the level above them. His mind searches for an explanation for the sudden shift in the environment, but his brain seems to stop him.

"I think the only way out is through," says Perdita. Chamemos walks over to Perdita and stands between him and the stairs.

"Perdita, something is way off. I can't explain that," he says motioning to the bookshelf, "and if we go further, we might be in danger. We don't know who or what is behind those doors."

"Well, do you want to stay in this shape shifting room? Or would you rather be in the party beyond the doors?" asks Perdita. "Because I certainly don't want to stay in a room where doors might disappear."

Chaménos' skin goes cold with the prospect of being trapped.

"Right," he says. "I don't want to get stuck in a shifting maze."

"Could be worse," Perdita says, rising onto the stairs with Chaménos next to him. "We could be stuck in a maze." They both stand in front of the double doors. The laughter, music, and the scent of perfume starts to radiate from beyond the door.

"Well... If we're trapped in a maze with no way out, isn't this technically a prison?" asks Chaménos. But Perdita grabs the golden latches and pushes them open.

They are immediately met with a warm and well lit ballroom. The floors are ornate marble. The ceiling is painted with tapestries of Greek gods that fly around huge chandeliers. A sweet smoke smell of pungent weed and chocolate fills Chaménos senses. Candelabras dance with fire along the bookshelves and tables. And lounging on lush green couches sit several women, all wearing some of the sexiest cocktail dresses and shoes that Chaménos has ever seen. They hold champagne glasses in their hands. Plates of figs, chocolate treats, and oysters sit on decadent plates about the room. Their smiles are lined with lipstick that radiates. Both the men stand in the entryway as the women continue to laugh with each other. Their laughter begins to settle as their eyes make their way to the men. The music invites them to sit.

"Does this look like a prison to you?" asks Perdita.

#

"Try this," says the brunette in a nighttime blue sequin body dress. She holds out a loaded oyster with lemon and horseradish in her palm. Chaménos sits on the verdant couch next to her and tries hard not to look down at her tits pouring out of her dress. He takes the shell and smells the ocean. Something about this is very familiar to him, but he can't place it.

"I have questions," he says.

"I have answers," she says smiling back. He gulps down the oyster. Her eyes flash blue against her dark eye makeup. He feels his body relax and start to flush.

"Where are we and why are we here?" asks Chaménos.

"Malevolent manor of course. For the glove ceremony of mistress Lilith. She said she's really looking forward to seeing you," she says. She reaches over to her champagne flute. Chaménos is distracted by her silver gothic choker but refocuses.

"I know about the manor and the party. What I want to know is...Wait... Looking forward to seeing me? Why?" The vixen takes her drink then reaches for a piece of chocolate. She takes a bite, keeping eye contact with Chaménos. Her lips slide over the truffle and it gives a small crack as she bites down. She giggles as she does. Chaménos gulps and feels himself growing hard beneath his trousers.

"You're her reward after the ceremony. You're one of the special guests," says the dark vixen. She hands him a truffle with sea salt. He eats it and tries to formulate his next question, of how to get out, but he fails. Her eyes are mesmerizing.

"Why am I special to her? How does she know me?" he asks. His eyes start to water a bit as smoke wafts over from the couch where Perdita sits with a golden blonde in a diamond shimmering evening dress. The weed smoke gives him a contact high. He begins to feel special and leans forward to the vixen in front of him.

"Well I don't know how she knows you, but I do know that she wants something from you. Something only you can give," she says.

"I... I don't have any to give her. All I have is me in this suit. What could she want?"

Chaménos wants to question further but words fail him as he gets lost in her eyes. She licks her lips, the remnants of chocolate truffles lingering along her tongue. The classical music around him softens and her eyes draw him in. She leans over, jewelry jingling as she does, and kisses him. She tastes of chocolate and strawberries, slippery and wet and sweet. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he feels a building sensual surge within him.

A hand lined with rings from the vixen makes its way down his chest and to his pants. Lost in her kiss, she strokes the outside of him, making him relax further into the couch. She kisses him more, and his head clears of all remaining questions as he is lost in her touch.

She pulls back at one point and looks him in the eyes. He's unsure if the kiss lasted a second or a year, but within the feeling of the here-and-now, all he wants is more. He leans toward her for another kiss, but he is met with a truffle at his lips.

"We're just the hor d'oeuvres, my little incubus," she says smiling.

He bites into it and feels a sugar rush that makes him giddy. He begins to giggle in delight, unsure as to why. He reaches for another chocolate truffle and turns toward the direction of Perdita.

"Perdita, you've got to try this--," he says, but his eyes cross where they came in.

The golden set of doors that they entered has changed again into a giant portrait of a woman deep in sleep with some type of demon sitting on her chest as a horse looks on. The frame is huge, flanked by more statues of naked wooden women.

Perdita has a yellow blonde in one arm, a platinum in the other, and he's walking away to a different set of doors on the other side of the room.

Chaménos tries to excuse himself off the couch but the vixen follows him, taking his arm and slowing him down. He calls Perdita, who stops and turns to give him a hazy smile.

"This is great, ain't it?" Perdita says slap happily.

"Look, the door," points Chaménos. But Perdita just shrugs as the women beside him giggle.

"What door? That's a painting," he says, laughing with the women.

"The door we came in. It's not there anymore," says Chaménos, getting serious. Perdita cocks his head, feeling the memory of it start to reach his brain. But he just shrugs again.

"Guess that happens around here," he says. But Chaménos fights the here-and-now feeling again. He takes the dark vixen gently by the arm, his face close to hers, and points at the painting

"Where is the door we came in? Why is there a painting there now?" he asks.

But the Vixen takes him by the cheek and plants another sweet chocolate kiss on him. He relaxes.

"Do you really want that answer?" she asks him, looking deep into his eyes.

"Yes, I do," he breathes out, almost not believing in himself or remembering why he asked.

"Then follow me. Your question will be answered in the next room," she says, pulling him along.

They follow Perdita and his company to another set of wood and gold double doors. Two other women, clad in red dresses, smile at both the men and reach for the door handles to let them into the next room.