The Sinner's Absolution

Herc was feeling a little nervous. He'd never done anything like this before, going to a Courtesan. But it may have been his only chance to fulfil certain... desires.

And he'd heard rather glowing reports about a certain Courtesan by the people who pointed him in the direction of a particular brothel, The Sinner's Absolution.

A rather poetic name, but supposedly because those that ran it believed none should suppress their urges, and that there be a place for them to indulge. Provided they part with the necessary compensation.

He was willing to do that, worrying a bag of coin in his pocket with his hand, making sure it did not 'disappear' on him when he wasn't looking, though looking around this part of town, he didn't think the chances were high.

Solemn Rest was something of an ironic name for the prosperous town. It was once a mere outpost, a waystation of sorts for those making the crossing over Goller's Pass, once the only way through the Amben Mountain Range. So named because Goller's Pass was treacherous, and often people did not survive the journey, leaving those that did to rest in grim circumstances. Then a route was discovered after a rock face gave way after a violent storm; Hopeful's Way. It was a small gully, practically, cutting right through the range, never before known until that rock wall came down. The gully's sides were stable, however, covered in woody brambles and scrub that held the soil and the rock together, and rockfalls from further up the mountains on either side were infrequent. It was a much safer route, and though several times the length of Goller's Pass, the easier terrain and fewer hazards only made it take twice the time. But most important of all, it created a route through the mountains that more were willing to take.

Solemn Rest grew from a simple waystation, to a vital trade and travel hub, servicing merchants and travellers that came from beyond the Amben Range, on their way to many locations further afield.

It was halfway between a town and a city, and its wealth showed; most of its residents led comfortable lives, with well crafted wooden buildings and slate shingle roofs, and stone walls for the wealthier.

The taverns were all quite classy places, though most still catered to the tastes of the commoner, like Herc himself, as Solemn Rest was led by people that saw the value in diversifying the town's economic sources, such that it would not suffer severely should something cut the flow of travellers and traders.

He himself was a carpenter, either crafting furniture or wagon parts for locals or merchant caravans, or carving simple but appealing decorative elements, for the same clientele.

There were farms a little further out from Solemn Rest, where the soil was a little more fertile, but they were nevertheless inseparably linked to the town.

Thus, Solemn Rest's prosperity was secure, leading to a lot of rather classy places meant for a more exclusive clientele.

The Gilded District, where he was now, was where much of that was focused.

Here traders sold finer and more expensive wares, as well as inns for those with more refined tastes to eat and sleep at. The roads were paved cobblestone, the buildings were either stone or brick, or quality wooden construction, and labourers were paid a nice sum to keep the streets cleaner than the rest of the town. Lampposts lined the road, and signs hung out in front of every inn or shop, with eye-catching designs painted and carved on them, all to attract potential customers. It was home to many businesses where all manner of curios could be acquired.

It was also home to one of three brothels in town, though rumour had it all three were being run behind the scenes by a single person or persons.

It would explain why even The Red Touch, the place for clients of a more 'common' sort with coin to match, was still a well-run establishment.

Above all, all of the women at the brothels were there by choice, something that the Matrons that ran them made very clear, and that they were not desperate for money, but doing something they wanted to do.

And they did not suffer hostility or abuse lightly.

It gave Herc some confidence that his time will be a wondrous one. But The Red Touch was not where he was going.

The Sinner's Absolution was the brothel at the top of the hierarchy of the three. It was for those looking for exotic tastes and experiences, and boasted a few non-human courtesans.

He was going to see one such courtesan.

He eventually found the building, and felt his nerves grow a little more shaky.

It was by no means enormous, akin to some of the larger inns in town, and they weren't terribly big compared to some from the cities. But it exuded a forbidden feel, crafted of dark wood that seemed to have a slight red tinge if one looked at it in the right light. It was a two floor building, with the lower floor possessing a verandah that encircled the entire structure, the floor above overhanging it and serving as the awning. The pillars that ran the perimeter of the verandah, supporting the floor above, were a more obvious shade of red, polished to a gleam. Black and red curtains obscured the windows, and two lanterns flanked an intricately carved wooden door -- two flowers, one upright, the other upside down, their stems intertwined -- burning with a red light.

He gulped lightly as he looked at the door, but steeled himself; as much as this was a first for him, he likely would never see his fantasies fulfilled if he didn't take the plunge.

Exhaling to calm himself, he walked up the handful of steps onto the verandah, and then to the door. He noticed a bell just above the handle, blending in and hard to spot from the road out front.

He rang the bell, the metal dinging resulting in a prompt response, footsteps audible from within.

The door opened, and he was met with an older woman, middle aged, but still beautiful.

She had a welcoming smile, and her blue, vaguely cloudy eyes were calming, but she carried herself with an air of authority, happy to make all comers to the brothel welcome, but exuding a sense of class. She wore a black dress made of silk and quality cotton, carefully wrapped around her, a silver brooch depicting the same twin flowers from the door holding the folds together. She had dark shoes cut at the ankle, with gold bangles around them and her wrists.

Her hair was half white, half black, and her lips gleamed with a simple oily gloss, shadow covering her eyelids. She had a few wrinkles, but they were not pronounced, and few in number, the woman possessing a mature beauty that appealed even to Herc, and no doubt to more than a few younger gentlemen.

"I am Madame Glay," she introduced with a small, courteous bob of her head. "I welcome you to The Sinner's Absolution. May I have your name?"

"Uh, Herc Gernson," he replied with a nod of his own. "I, uh, I'm here to see a particular girl."

Madame Glay smiled, and beckoned him to follow her.

"This way please, and I will see what we can do for you, Sir."

She got to walking, and Herc followed.

The décor inside was dark but lavish, though not to the point of excess.

The first few feet of carpet inside the entrance hall was a rough, scratchy material, no doubt to scrape dirt and filth from the boots of customers, but the rest of it was a soft, thin material, woven with maroon and grey patterns of diamonds and leaves weaving about each other, chaotic but pleasing to the eye.

The dark wooden walls and ceilings were fairly plain, but here and there hung pots of vines and flowers that gave off a rather alluring scent, along with brass sconces with lamps on their ends that glowed with a pale light.

There were portraits along the walls, depicting women and men in the nude, though their 'shame' was covered by silks of various colours.

The paintings were erotic by nature, risque and titillating without showing too much, but they were exquisitely crafted, genuine works of art.

Small tables hugged the walls intermittently, sometimes holding a potted plant, or candles, or decorative objects of all sorts.

And then they came to something of a foyer, a counter in the middle beneath a brass chandelier, a handful of glass crystals hanging from the centre lamp which lit the area.

To the left and right were more hallways leading to the wings of the establishment, whilst black doors behind the counter led further in, perhaps to areas forbidden to clients like himself.

Madame Glay folded her arms atop of the counter, and fixed Herc a look.

"You say you are after a particular girl. Who might that be?" she inquired.

"Uh, I'm told her name is... Seja? Seju?"

"Ah, Seja~" the matron said with a knowing tone. "I see you are after a particular experience, then?"

"Y-yes," Herc remarked bashfully, feeling a little embarrassed, but the matron only raised a hand.

"Do not worry yourself, sir. Many come through our doors feeling the nerves pulling on them. But here, what feelings they think shame them, will be validated. Because there is no shame in having desires. And Seja is free right now, so you need only provide payment, and I will lead you to her room. Seven Gold Marks, five silver."

Herc reached into his pocket and fished out the purse of coins, loosening the string that bound the neck closed, and produced the requested sum of money.

Madame Glay took the coins with a practised sweep of her hands, placing them into a metal box -- judging by the clinking sound Herc heard -- nestled behind the counter.

"Thank you, Sir." She stepped out behind the counter, and beckoned him to follow her, gesturing to the hall to the left. "Right this way."

It was oddly quiet, which unnerved Herc; even this place was noted to be busy, but he heard nothing, no girlish laughter, no raunchy moans, or even the telltale thumping through the floors and walls. Even as he passed by doors leading to various rooms -- the spacing between doors showing the rooms were few in number but fairly spacious -- he heard nothing, or saw anything notable that indicated if any of the rooms were 'in use'.

Either he'd arrived at a lull in business, or they had ways of suppressing the sound.

As Herc followed the Matron, he noted that the paintings and décor had changed; now the portraits showed full nudity, and there were sculptures of men and women baring all, and their poses were more provocative, more directly enticing.

There was a flight of stairs at the end of the hall, as well as a turn to the right, leading down a narrow corridor, but he was led up the flight of stairs. It twisted around until they were going back the way they came, relatively speaking, only on the floor above.

They passed through a bead curtain, and the décor took an even more erotic turn, now depicting full sexual activity; masturbation, sex, orgies even.

They passed the first door, and then stopped at the second, Madame Glay standing by its side.

"In here, sir. Mistress Seja is waiting. You will also have a space to freshen yourself. And do enjoy yourself~"

"Uh, thank you, Madame," Herc answered, as the Matron opened the door. It didn't open into the room directly, a small space before an immediate left turn with a silk curtain, likely another layer of privacy screening. Herc nodded and stepped inside, and the door was shut behind him.

He paused, and exhaled a bit harder than usual through his nose.

'No turning back now,' he thought to himself.

He was no virgin, but this was going to be an entirely new experience.

He stepped through the curtain, and almost whistled in appreciation; the room was lavish, the walls coloured black and red, the floor carpeted in a plush maroon rug, thin but soft, with a large bed with crimson satin silks dominating the middle.

The décor was a bit more sparse than in the rest of the building, only a few portraits arrayed on the walls, but all were thoroughly erotic, depicting people going at it with wanton lust.

Just right of the curtained entrance was another curtain, drawn open and revealing a space with a mirror and washbasin, with another door a little further along from that.

A small chandelier hung above the bed, casting a yellow hue across the walls with its candles, whilst red-glass lanterns fixed to the corners cast their own reddish glow, a unique contrast that set a tempting mood.

There were drawers either side of the 'head' of the bed, though it had no headboard to speak of, just a pile of red and black pillows.

But perhaps the most notable feature of the room was the woman sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed.

She was truly beautiful, wearing black leather garb that was only a little more concealing than lingerie, with black lace underwear beneath, the hems just visible past the edges of the leather. She had heels and gloves that almost reached her ankles, but no pants, the leather garment she wore covering her crotch but not her legs.

What struck him most was she wasn't human. The pinkish skin, orange eyes and pointed ears were proof of that.

She was a Blood Elf, and such possessed a sort of timeless allure. Her glossy lips, plush and enticing, were pursed into a thin, amused smile, whilst long sandy hair, streaked with brown.

She had a tattoo on her left shoulder, depicting a winged demoness with horns and a tail, silhouetted save for a devious smile.

"Welcome~" she said. Her voice was beautiful, but commanding. As expected of one versed in dominance. "I am Mistress Seja~ And you are?"

"I-I am Herc Gernson," he stammered, feeling as enticed as he was nervous. Just looking at her was getting him worked up, a tightness in his pants making itself rather known.

"Well, Herc Gernson... I am guessing you are here because you wish for me to make your dreams come true... dreams of submission~"

He nodded, watching her as she crossed her legs the other way, a rather sensual display, slow and deliberate.

"You want to be dominated... made to lust over a woman who controls you~"

He nodded again. Her voice was like honey to his ears, a caress on his mind, and he didn't even need her to be a mind reader.

That being said, she was a lot calmer than he expected; Blood Elves weren't too common, and were known for their aggressive tendencies. Not necessarily murderous, but they were notorious for competitiveness and they often found work in violent occupations.

Yet here one was working in a Brothel... though, she was a... what was the word used? A dominatrix. So perhaps it made sense in the end.

"Yes... I want that," he admitted. "But... I don't think I'd feel comfortable doing anything too extreme... like being treated as an animal, or such."

He winced, expecting her to express some frustrations, but she only chuckled knowingly.

"It's no secret that I enjoy being able to cut loose," she admitted, leaning forward and showing off her cleavage; she was generously endowed. Not as much as some, but enough he could imagine those breasts of hers smothering his head and wrapping around his penis. "Being allowed to break men as I please, do as I wish, command them as I desire~ Make them crawl and beg and suffer delicious cruelty~ Cruelty they crave~ But that is precisely it; what they crave. If you desire something a bit more nuanced... I will happily oblige~ Limitations are important in my occupation, Herc~"

He let out a huff; the way she spoke in the first half was deeply erotic, and her tone was terribly seductive. But it backed off to a more sympathetic one towards the end. He felt some relief in that; the last thing he wanted was for this dream to turn sour.

"That does make me feel a bit more confident," he admitted.

"I may be sought after to be served, but it is still in service to those who desire to be beneath my heels~ Should you wish for some changes, do let me know~ But once we begin, I will be deigning to maintain as much command as befits the illusion~"

She laughed deviously, licking her lips slowly.

"So then, if you have any further questions or requests, share them~ Otherwise, you may freshen up... though, I would appreciate it if you kept your underpants on~"

"Right," he murmured. "I guess I only ask that you don't put anything in my mouth, just cover it, unless it's part of you. And that you don't flog me or degrade me with words. I guess... I want to be teased, feel like I'm not in control, taunted and mercilessly pleasured, but not humiliated."

He was surprised that he was being so forward, but Seja only nodded.

"I can do all of that... in fact, I think I know exactly what kind of person you are~" she said. "I don't think I will have any difficulties with you~"

He gulped nervously, and she chuckled in a way that told him she was still going to find a way to torment him, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

This wasn't just her job. It wasn't just her livelihood. It was her passion. And they hadn't even started.

"I'll go get undressed then," he said, turning towards the small room behind the curtain next to the entrance.

Seja nodded, and Herc turned and drew the curtain closed.

It was a small space, but the washbasin was filled with water, a small grey towel hanging from a bar beneath it. There was also a scrubber, a volcanic stone and what appeared to be soap.

He'd saved up a while to come here, and he was starting to understand it wasn't just the girls that made the place so pricey.

He looked into the mirror; somehow, he looked like a wreck despite cleaning himself up this morning, shaving himself and combing his chestnut hair, which hung to his jawline, framing his face. He was neither too masculine or too boyish, described as handsome by some though he didn't particularly see it, especially as he was just on the cusp of his thirties and he wasn't particularly athletic, though neither did he have any real flab.

Blue-green eyes stared back at him, and then he fixed on his nose, the tip possessing a slight downwards point.

He'd always been a little embarrassed by it, but he figured that would be the least of his embarrassment now.

He sighed, and dipped his hands into the basin, splashing his face and rubbing it down with the cool water. He scrubbed his face with some added soap, before stripping down to his underwear, folding his clothes neatly to one side, the wooden floor feeling a little cold beneath his bare feet.

He lathered up his body in soap, and proceeded to freshen himself up first with the volcanic stone, and then the scrubber, before dabbing himself dry with the towel.

He remained where he was for a moment, and after one last moment of trepidation, he inhaled, and then exhaled, and walked back out into the room in nought but his underwear.

Seja's eyes narrowed, and her grin tugged a little higher at the corners.

Then she looked him in the eyes.

"If you wish at any moment to make a change, or tell me to stop, you need only ask. If you feel you can trust me, then you need not give me a phrase or word beforehand as a code. If it allays any concerns, tell me your phrase now."

He thought about it, but then shook his head.

"I trust you to know if I'm being serious," he said, crossing his arms as he felt a little self-conscious.

"I have been in this line of work for many years, Herc. Some prefer safe words, others do not. I have learned how to tell serious requests to stop from people simply getting into 'play', so to speak," she explained with a serious tone he'd yet heard from her. "But rarely is 'stop' said without people meaning it. And if they truly mean it, they make it clear."

"I understand," he answered.

"Now, with that out of the way, do you wish to begin~?" she asked, her previous seductive, commanding allure returning.