Mistress Selene - Proprietress of the Devil's Playthings, the most debauched club in all of Haven

The city of Haven was once a proud and regal city, built by a pious and long-forgotten empire whose name lies forgotten in all but the oldest and dustiest of tomes in archives across the lands. Where once there was a proud skyline dominated by spires and steeples atop grand temples to the various gods, now those very temples are cast in shadows by tall impossible towers built by powerful magic wielders. Where once the grand libraries were filled with historic scrolls of noble bloodlines and the various deeds of the empire and their devotion to the gods, now they are filled with arcane tomes of wonder capable of elevating the minds of those with innate magical abilities and the patience to study them.

Haven once stood as the capital at the crossroads to the forgotten empire its roads spanning in each direction connecting it to the various settlements both big and small that once were brought under the empire's sway. Roads that were once filled with worshipers looking to make the pilgrimage to Haven to worship at one of the grand temples in the hopes of gaining some divine favour to improve their lives, were now bustling with trade caravans, carriages and people looking to see what fine wonderous wares Haven has to offer.

Magic brought great change to Haven and the world at large, the first practitioners were initially welcomed by the forgotten empire, who saw it as a gift from the gods to reward their faith by spreading the gods' influence across their world. However when those first Mages started to poke at the strange thing fabric of reality around Haven the Empire soon realised it might have been a curse. The various religious orders and keepers of the faith which held the emperor's ear, who could have adapted to the changes brought by magic and embraced it, instead tried to decry the discoveries as unholy and the first practitioners blasphemous and heretical.

Magic was the great equaliser, as anyone could have the potential and thanks to the consensus of the early scholars this knowledge or at least its foundations is accessible to all. With each new practitioner of the arcane came new ideas or refinement of old ideas, from highborn nobles to children of humble farmers from the sleepy hamlets. This didn't mesh well with the religious orders of the old Empire which stood to keep the lowborn inline, so their toil could line the pockets of the nobles and religious orders alike. The scholars initially tried to ignore and not engage in debate with the religious leaders, hoping to be left alone to study in peace, however, this wasn't to be.

Very little is known about how the conflict started, the only surviving details are an account from a survivor of one of the church guards reporting back to his masters, immortalised as the unofficial motto of Haven's College of Wonder. "We sent men armed and armoured in heavy Steel, they sent one man who could control fire, how do you think it bloody went,".

Needless to say Magic won the day, and between these costly attacks which the subject already disliked the Empire would backtrack its stance, but by this point, the cracks which would lead to it crumbling were already starting to widen and Magic would begin to flourish. The lives of the average citizen of Haven and the wider world around it were greatly improved with magic, so much so that very few even remarked or noticed the fall of the empire they were once bound under.

Unbidden by previous rules and emboldened Magic allowed Haven to grow and prosper, with new discoveries enriching the lives of many, albeit with a few discoveries which more problematic. Eventually, Magic users would begin to experiment with the very fabric of reality around the city itself, finding its walls growing weaker until small holes to other worlds could be poked open. Most of these worlds were harmless enough, with only ones related to the base elements causing the most issues, but even these issues would be remedied into something wonderful.

Accidentally rendered a floor to your wizard's tower uninhabitable due to a portal to the fire plane which can't be closed? No problem, magically reinforce the floors, walls and ceilings, set up some barriers so nothing living can pass through and create a couple of portals to a plane of water and have yourself a never-ending hotspring of clean flowing water for everyone to enjoy.

Eventually, various Magic users began to make contact with denizens of the other planes, some peaceful and welcoming, others initially hostile but eventually would become peaceful, and others that only understood the language of ****. Soon these contacts would grow into inter-dimensional friendships and Haven would once more stand as the crossroads, but this time as a peaceful hub between many different worlds. Haven grew to what it is today, a mostly safe space for anyone to come and trade for goods from planes they otherwise wouldn't be welcome in.

The upper city is a wondrous sight to behold, with the magic college's sprawling floating campus circling above the grand buildings to the various guilds and wealthy individuals with their trade empires. The large sprawling markets are a delight to venture through, with delightful street food stalls on over to delight the hungry and thirsty shoppers or simply to give them a space to sit back and watch commerce in action. With charming inns and lively taverns to cater to the weary travellers after the days are done, the upper city is everything Haven claims to be.

The undercity, however, houses all the districts and trades that require Haven's destination to be mostly safe rather than completely safe as its name would suggest. Once home to the slums and poorest residents of Haven, the undercity is now itself a bustling hive of trade and activity much like it's more respectable upper city. Catering to all the seedier and less wholesome requirements any traveller could desire, stores catering to things people would prefer bought privately, from Dark Esoteric texts for forbidden schools of magic to the humble sex shops that just want to offer privacy to their clients. Seedier taverns and establishments to cater to any and all the vices anyone could desire. Gambling, Sex, **** and sometimes a worrying combination of those, the undercity has it all for anyone brave enough to venture below.

One particular area within the undercity is an area called The Diabolical District a nickname that was given due to the smell that haunted its streets courtesy of an old sulphur mine. The nickname is a play on sulphur being referred to as brimstone from the city's old pious days and also just being deeply unpleasant. Thankfully the smell is long gone, but the name stuck and various businesses establishing themselves there decided to embrace the name by incorporating the theme into their business names.

There is the devil's due, a debt collection and bounty hunting office who have an impeccable record of recovering both money and people, although not necessarily the exact ones their customers were after, but strangely this didn't seem much of an issue to the morally flexible clientele. There's also the Devil's idle hands, a one-stop shop for any aspiring cult, gang of thugs or other organised mayhem enthusiasts to recruit minions or goons to help bolster their numbers. The Devil May Care, which is a small business offering discreet healing services for those who can afford it. There was also the fearsome Mr Stickler owner of The Devil in the Details, a lawyer with a fairly respectable client list that wouldn't deign enter the undercity, but Mr Stickler enjoys the much cheaper fees he has to contribute to the city.

Last but by no means least, there's your own place of work, The Devil's Playthings, a delightful club where people can gamble, get intoxicated, have sex and possibly all at once. However, what separates your den of iniquity from any of the other casinos or dens of vices, is that your gambling doubles up as entertainment as you allow the patrons to gamble using themselves as the ante. Often these gambling spectacles take the form of some challenge or game for patrons to compete in to win a specified prize. Sometimes it's money, other times it's information you've managed to acquire, and on a few occasions it's been some powerful enchantment or magical artefact you've managed to acquire, although the most commonly requested prize is something sexual in nature.

Not all bets make it to the main stage for everyone to watch, some patrons even use the bets to settle a dispute with a friend or fellow traveller. However, all bets are enforced by magical contracts you have all parties sign, firstly to consent to participate and secondly, to enforce the results should they lose. Occasionally you get a visiting royal, or some other person who feels important enough to warrant better treatment and not beholden to the same rules as everyone beneath them. Such individuals often get given a choice, abide by the existing agreement they signed, or take up a new one with you. So far only a few have been foolish enough to try and take the latter.

You were currently reclining on a chaise lounge supported by the petrified form of one such self-important individual who thought they could beat you rather than accept the much lighter forfeit of their original bet. You browse through the various correspondences and missives your assistant has provided you with, much of it is the usual. Condemnation from a few religious groups threatening to take matters before the city council if you don't close your business and repent your wicked ways. Some gracious letters from the council for your generous donations to the Upper Cities orphanages, schools and other social programmes such as ensuring any citizen has access to a healer should the need arise.

Needless to say, you have a reputation and are well-known throughout Haven and quite a bit beyond it for various reasons. To some it's your magical prowess and impressive collections of spells and enchantments, to others it's your spellbinding looks that capture the hearts and bodies of many a being. To a few it's your charitable good deeds, trying to help out the poorer residents and other downtrodden. To even fewer lucky individuals it's your prowess in bed which has them remembering your name. To many, it's Mistress Selene proprietress and general mischief maker of the Devil's plaything.

You get up from the Chaise Lounge, and slowly walk towards your wardrobe with a casual flick of your wrist the collection of paperwork silently glides through the air towards your desk, neatly sorting themselves into their rightful places without you even looking. You take a moment to study your naked form, your proud gravity-taunting E-cup breasts standing proud and perky like someone 3 centuries your junior. The soft elven features on your beautiful face widen into a playful smile as you practice a few seductive looks. You bite your lip as you glance downwards and see your impressive cock currently resting but ready and eager at a moment's notice.

There are quite a few things you're thankful for during the 3 plus centuries of life;
Your innate magical abilities.
That demons, both big and small, can be relied on to be almost always horny and always open to at least hearing an offer that involves sex.
The collection of spells, rituals and enchantments that keep you feeling and looking as good as you do.
The collection of sexual spells, rituals and enchantments which allows you to give your patrons the freedom to get as wild and creative as they desire.
Most of all, you're thankful for being one of the exceptionally rare natural-born Futa of the elvish race.

Many diverse races call Haven their home, and even more travel through to sell the speciality flora and fauna of their home planes, many of those races have over the centuries intermingled and resulted in mixes of the two. Through many generations of breeding, certain traits seem to have made their way into races which didn't normally have them. Futanaris are a good example of this, only naturally occurring in a few demonic kinds, but now it's a trait found in pretty much all races, although with the heightened sex drive and enhanced fertility that being a futa brings it's fairly easy to see how this occurred. Elven genetics seem to be quite stubborn making Futas like yourself one in a hundred thousand, not that you mind as it always made you stand out.

You take another moment to admire your naked form before running your hands over your body while reciting an incantation, pale white sparks dancing across your lavender-coloured skin the spell helping it keep soft and perfectly moisturised for the next week. Finally, you throw on a silken gown your assistant had picked out to help accentuate your natural beauty with just the right mix of sophistication and sensual teasing with how much skin is on show.

You consider whether or not to wear underwear with this dress, the material is opaque enough to hide the delightful surprise between your legs unless you get fully erect, but if that happens nothing in your wardrobe could contain it, even if you wanted to. Should that happen you'll just do what you always do, which is find someone suitable to help you hide it in a welcoming hole.

With the matter of outfit settled, you head out of your private living space stroke office, and make your way to your personal lounge in the VIP area to oversee the club for the evening.