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Some said that the House of Hidden Dreams was a first class brothel, some said it was more, a place where one’s darkest desires would come true, where nothing was forbidden, where even the gods themselves would be tempted. The owner who was only known by the name of Lady of Angels was a mystery, a woman of almost supernatural beauty, more than a mere human being, of that they were all sure. Those that worked for her were all perfect, men and women alike, trained in the arts of pleasure and maybe more.
The vysstichi courtesan had tried to please him, she had been a perfect ebony goddess who possessed just the right amount of violence and gentleness, who knew how to cause pleasure and pain in equal amounts. She had spoken of her underground home, of the Matrons, of the fact that men were little more than slaves there. She seemed to enoy that, telling men who little they were worth in her homeland, although those insults were always followed by a kiss and lovemaking.
A new presence? No, it was just her again, dressed in an almost transparent gown that came down to her ankles, that covered her entire body and yet revealed everything. Her hair was unbound and framed her face. „Would my lord like a glass of wine? Bath oils or maybe a massage?“ She came closer and let her hands, slender hands with long, sharp nails run across his face. „In Har’oloth where I used to live, they kill the men they love and places such as this do not exist unless it is to honor Haya.“
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