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butterfly0408
Singularity
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
- Location
- An Alternate Universe
From the outside the house looked like any other house on the block, but stepping inside was like stepping back in time.
It was a modern day whorehouse with an old fashioned touch. It was known by it's customers as 'Madame Dorshire's Brothel.' True it had all kind of modern conveniences but the atmosphere of the interior was anything but modern. It was a tribute to the whorehouses of the Victorian age from the antique Victorian furniture and the dim lighting to the attire of it's prostitutes. They often looked rather odd standing among the modernly dressed clientele. But that was part of the places charm and it's appeal. It was a get away from all the troubles of today. Where men could loss themselves in the glory days of paid sex. It's what made it a popular place.
Once the sun went down, that was when the high paying customer's started to arrive and the prostitutes all started to wander from their rooms down to what they all called the showroom downstairs. The front few rooms of the house, that was where the gentlemen picked what they wanted for the night and prices were negotiated before the ladies escorted them back to the rooms for anywhere from an hour to the entire night. Not many of them ever found a man willing to pay for a whole night. Well, there was one... every one of her clients had spent the entire night with her. They just couldn't resist her.
She was Layla, a fiery beauty that could make a man cream himself before they even went back up to her room. She was one of the younger women of the house, but this was her home. Literally. Layla had grown up in this place for her mother was the owner and played the role of the house Madame. As a child, Layla had played in these halls and heard men and whore alike screaming with pleasure for as long as she could remember. It was no shock that when she grew she ended up here as well. She ran the website for the house as well, letting the 21st century sex clientele know they were out there and ready to cater to their needs. For being so young, she was knew things about sex beyond her years. The whores in the house had taught her all their tricks and she had watched them, observed things, and now she applied them herself. She was what ever man desired. The looks of a goddess, the tricks of the trade, and willing to fulfill any fantasy. ANY fantasy.
Exiting her room on the second floor, Layla took her time going down the hallway. She knew she wouldn't have to wait long before she'd be on her way back to it again. It never was. This night she wore a red corset trimmed in black lace that showed off her 'goods' nicely. Her legs were covered with black stocking that reached her mid thighs. Part of the garter belt the stockings were held up by could be seen from beneath a little red skirt, but all the good parts were still hidden. A man would need to pay to get a look at that. Over all a lacy, short, see through black robe left open. Her red hair was half pulled up but part of it still hang down her back in a sexy mess.
She took her normal place in the showroom, standing right at the bottom of the grand stairs that lead to the second floor, leaning against the banister. She liked this spot because a man would have to turn down every other whore in the house before getting to her and ones that couldn't wait long enough to find her would have to pass her on their way up to the bedrooms. They'd have to look at her and curse at what the had missed. Then they would picture her the whole time they lay with another woman. Layla was a bit of a devil sometimes.
It was a modern day whorehouse with an old fashioned touch. It was known by it's customers as 'Madame Dorshire's Brothel.' True it had all kind of modern conveniences but the atmosphere of the interior was anything but modern. It was a tribute to the whorehouses of the Victorian age from the antique Victorian furniture and the dim lighting to the attire of it's prostitutes. They often looked rather odd standing among the modernly dressed clientele. But that was part of the places charm and it's appeal. It was a get away from all the troubles of today. Where men could loss themselves in the glory days of paid sex. It's what made it a popular place.
Once the sun went down, that was when the high paying customer's started to arrive and the prostitutes all started to wander from their rooms down to what they all called the showroom downstairs. The front few rooms of the house, that was where the gentlemen picked what they wanted for the night and prices were negotiated before the ladies escorted them back to the rooms for anywhere from an hour to the entire night. Not many of them ever found a man willing to pay for a whole night. Well, there was one... every one of her clients had spent the entire night with her. They just couldn't resist her.
She was Layla, a fiery beauty that could make a man cream himself before they even went back up to her room. She was one of the younger women of the house, but this was her home. Literally. Layla had grown up in this place for her mother was the owner and played the role of the house Madame. As a child, Layla had played in these halls and heard men and whore alike screaming with pleasure for as long as she could remember. It was no shock that when she grew she ended up here as well. She ran the website for the house as well, letting the 21st century sex clientele know they were out there and ready to cater to their needs. For being so young, she was knew things about sex beyond her years. The whores in the house had taught her all their tricks and she had watched them, observed things, and now she applied them herself. She was what ever man desired. The looks of a goddess, the tricks of the trade, and willing to fulfill any fantasy. ANY fantasy.
Exiting her room on the second floor, Layla took her time going down the hallway. She knew she wouldn't have to wait long before she'd be on her way back to it again. It never was. This night she wore a red corset trimmed in black lace that showed off her 'goods' nicely. Her legs were covered with black stocking that reached her mid thighs. Part of the garter belt the stockings were held up by could be seen from beneath a little red skirt, but all the good parts were still hidden. A man would need to pay to get a look at that. Over all a lacy, short, see through black robe left open. Her red hair was half pulled up but part of it still hang down her back in a sexy mess.
She took her normal place in the showroom, standing right at the bottom of the grand stairs that lead to the second floor, leaning against the banister. She liked this spot because a man would have to turn down every other whore in the house before getting to her and ones that couldn't wait long enough to find her would have to pass her on their way up to the bedrooms. They'd have to look at her and curse at what the had missed. Then they would picture her the whole time they lay with another woman. Layla was a bit of a devil sometimes.
