Taking His Virgin - Club Lush

They were dressed similarly: dark suits, white shirts, red silk ties. It looked like a kind of uniform. Particularly with the matching buttons on the right lapel of each of the suits. I couldn’t see really well because of the bad lighting. From what I could tell, the pins hand the picture of the outline of a hand done in broken lines and the initials O.I.H.F.C above it in Gothic script, looking all ancient and important.

I was afraid they might be doing some kind of ritual, and we really didn’t want to be around for it. It still wasn’t clear to me if demonology actually worked, and I wasn’t in a hurry to find out.

“O-yay, o-yay, I bring to order this meeting of the Order the Invisible Hand Financial Club.”

I could actually feel myself relaxing. There weren’t going to be any demons that night. Or at least, so I thought.

“C’mon, we’ll get in trouble,” I whispered, trying to pull Liz away.

It was too late. The man standing closest to us looked over, catching sight of us even in the dim light of the hallway. I froze, barely able to breathe. Liz was feeling pretty ridged herself.

I’d expected alarms or guards or something like that. If we were lucky, at least. Liz had made me watch Eyes Wide Shut, and I hadn’t been able to look at a masquerade mask the same way again. I trembled to even contemplate the indignities that might be visited on us before we were dispensed with. I figured Liz might be able to handle it. She was always so much stronger than I was. She would fight. I was a virgin and would probably faint at the first intimate touch of a man.

It was like a saving grace. Rather than exposing us, leaving us open to punishment from the club members, the man just stared at us for a moment. He let us know he knew we were there and then did something shocking.

“Excuse me a moment,” he whispered to the man beside him and slipped out of the room.

We backed up instinctively. I wanted to run back to the door and take my chances on the street, but he would catch up to us. We were in a stranger’s house, and there was no escape. I was so scared I thought I might faint from sheer terror.

The man kept coming towards us, Liz putting her arms around me protectively, before stopping and gesturing for us to follow him into a nearby study. Looking at me, Liz took my hand and led me into the study, both of us looking at the floor as we went.

I could almost feel it as the door closed, actually flinching at the click of the lock. It was beyond my understanding at that point, but he was doing it to protect us. Locking us away from the rest of the club who might not be so lenient.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked, turning to us.

“We just got mugged,” Liz explained, her voice steady and eyes clear, “we’re from out of town and need to call the police. I’m not sure what they can do at this point, but it seems like a good idea.”

Liz was speaking, but the man looked only at me and not my face —not entirely anyway. I was dressed modestly, as was my habit, but he still ran his eyes over my body, seeming to get a good idea of what it looked like. He was so damn handsome I could barely stand to look at him. I also wasn’t used to such intense male attention.

“Is that true?” he asked, his eyes still on me. I made the mistake of looking up at him. His eyes seemed to bore into my very soul.

I froze like I did when we were mugged and when we were first spotted in the house. Losing my ability to speak. I looked as hard as I could but just couldn’t find my voice. Even though it could be the only way for us to get out of the mess we were in.Chapter Three - WarrenI was used to the unexpected. Leading the life I did, it came with the territory. I was only 35 but had seen and done things that would make most people’s hair turn white. None of it illegal, of course. I had to maintain some level of morality and was no good to anyone in prison. However, some things went far beyond the accepted social standard.

In truth, I had no real regard for the accepted social standard, which I generally saw as arbitrary bullshit made up by self-righteous busybodies. I’d certainly had more than enough of that growing up in the wealthy circles that I did. There was a general idea that there was no monarch in America. This was mostly a misnomer. There was very much an aristocracy. They just don’t call themselves that anymore. Like when Romans changed the name of their emperor to the pope. Same function, different name.