Meeting the Madam

Isaac followed Arthus down a dimly lit hallway, past many other doors to a staircase. Down, they went, into a truly huge room that Isaac would certainly call a cabaret, in shades of red, purple, and blue. Patrons of all kinds spoke, laughed, sang along to the soft music. They drank and ate, all kinds of wines and fine spirits and some truly lavish meals. On a small stage was a three-person band, and on a larger stage a scantily clad woman danced, slow and sensual on the pair of poles. More stages, small, some having a single pole, dotted the open floor of the room. It was rather quiet, empty except where people crowded around the active stage.

Arthus drew eyes, and as such so did Isaac, but they proceeded nonetheless, through the large establishment, and through a pair of deep purple curtains hung in a golden archway. That took them to another hall, though much darker and lit by blue flames in sconces. They went through it to another room, cozy and warm, with curtains in dark colors hanging from the low ceiling.

On what amounted to a massive dark blue mattress or cushion rested a woman almost twice Isaac’s size, not including the long tail that took the place of her legs. She was adorned in jewelry, swathed partly in dark cloths, and very naked. Instead of hair, she had a few large tentacles, and she had a third eye in the center of her forehead. She was curvy and toned, broad in the shoulder and hip, with hefty breasts and defined strength in her frame. She was a striking woman, looking somewhere between a sea goddess and an eldritch deity, imposing and inhuman.

Despite her **** state, Isaac felt miniscule in her presence.

Surrounding her were a few men and women, most nude or in undergarments, lounging at her sides and laying soft praise and loving touches on her. As Arthus and Isaac entered the room, she lifted a hand and the many people around her backed away, turning instead to each other and leaving her in the center of her lavish resting place. Isaac felt like he was in a porno, a mafia movie, or a dark fantasy series as he found himself looking at the owner of a very lavish, very opulent brothel, surrounded by prostitutes and strippers.

“Hello, darling,” the woman said in a voice that was low, smooth, and sent a chill down Isaac’s spine. Her accent, if Isaac had to equate it to one he knew, was posh English, though there were some strange, almost echoing qualities to it. “You’re Isaac Wells, right?”

Isaac nodded. “Y-yes, ma’am. That’s me.”

“We don’t have other-worlders here very often. In fact, I might wager that you’re the first that’s ever stepped into my establishment.” She held out a hand and a glass of red wine was set into her waiting grip. She sipped it, tilted her head, and continued. “You may just call me Tempest, if you wish, though my full name and title is Madam Estelle Tempest.” She dipped her head. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You as well, er, Tempest.” Isaac bowed slightly. “Thank you for taking me in.”

“It was no problem at all, darling.” She smiled, and despite her intimidating presence, it was warm, almost matronly, and it made him feel deeply welcomed. “Thank Arthus over there. He brought you here. Marched a day in the storm to carry you to my home.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the automaton, who simply nodded. “Really? M-miss Tempest, how long have I been ****?”

Tempest pursed her lips, thinking. “I would wager about five days. Whatever transported you here, a malfunctioning portal as I understand it, put you into a kind of stasis. You were unharmed, with no need for sustenance, but filthy. I took the liberty of assigning one of my girls to clean you off - I hope that wasn’t too… presumptuous of me?”

Isaac blushed, just a bit. “No, I don’t mind too much. Thank you for caring for me.”

“Please, dear, don’t think a thing of it. You’re a friend of my friends.” She beckoned Isaac to approach, so he walked closer, until he was standing on her bed of cushions next to her. “Aoife Conrad, my dearest princess, has been a friend for a long time. And, as I believe he goes by now, Tyler Jones… I won’t tell his story for him, but we’ve known each other. A friend of theirs is a friend of mine. And please, sit.”

Isaac carefully lowered himself next to her, and one of her arms quickly landed around his shoulder, pulling him close. Her skin was supple where it was gray, almost scaly where it was dark green, but still smooth and cool to the touch. This close, she radiated power in a tangible aura, invisible but a humming he felt in his soul. “Who exactly cared for me while I was out, Tempest?”

“One of my daughters - adopted, I should stress. The one who cleaned you up and whatnot is Vanya, she’ll be the angel you’ll see, and her sister is Rhyn, she’s a red dragonkin.” Tempest drank from her wine, her fingers tapping gently on Isaac’s arm. Her hand roamed across his chest, slipping into the open front of his shirt and touching his skin. She touched him like he belonged to her, a strange kind of lazy possessiveness in the way she laid her arm around him. He gulped and tried not to think about the bulge in his pants. “They’re out doing errands for me, but you’ll meet them soon, if you decide to stick around.”

The term 'angel' stuck out at first, but Isaac quickly shook that off. He'd spent a lot of time with a demon - an angel wasn't really too far out of the norm. “Well, I need to orient myself… how long am I allowed to stay?” Isaac knew he was taking up the most lucrative room in her establishment. She couldn’t be too pleased to-

“As long as you need, Master Wells.” She gave him that heart-melting smile again. “And you may avail yourself of our services here at the Tempest Cabaret. We have many men and women who would gladly perform for you, please you, or otherwise serve you. Of course, any tips would be appreciated, but while you’re here, I’m covering your expenses.”

Isaac blushed and almost laughed, looking around at the tangled groups of people still kissing, cuddling, touching each other. “Aoife and Tyler must be very good friends of yours.”

“Some of the best. But I also happen to know who you’re chasing.” Tempest lifted Isaac’s chin with a finger, so his eyes met hers. Her expression was a bit heavier, weary. “My dear, Declan Grimm is a dangerous man. I cannot face him, I do not have the… capability, at the moment. But I wish you luck, and I will gladly provide your base of operations, at least until you reunite with your friends.”

Isaac nodded, processing that but unable to tear his eyes from hers. Her stare was as deep and dark as the ocean itself, caring and intelligent beyond measure. “You said you spoke to them… are they nearby?”

Tempest frowned. “Sadly, no. Tyler possesses the capability to send magical messages over long distances - he likely didn’t reach you through your… state… and it works more soundly on magical beings like myself. I’ll be trying to get a message to them again now that you’re awake.” She took another sip of her drink and cast a glance around, a contemplative look on her face. She turned back to Isaac. “You must be starving, dear. Head back out and ask for Graham, tell him Estelle said you need something to eat.”

She nudged him, but with her size and might, she pretty much nudged him back to his feet, gently holding him so he didn’t stumble. Isaac straightened his clothes and bowed his head again - he saw the small pout on her face, figured he probably didn’t need to bow, but it just felt right. “Thank you again. Who should I be looking for?”

“Oh, you can just grab anyone and they’ll get him, but Graham is one of my partners. He’s a human man, blonde, handsome, and an absolutely lovely chef.” Tempest took Isaac’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “He’ll get you sorted. He might be able to help you out with navigating the city here, as well, but I’d like you to be back around sunset. I’ve got… plans.” She grinned and drank from her wine, then tapped Isaac on the hip and waved him away.

As Isaac walked away, Arthus dutifully following behind, the other people in the room returned to her side, and Isaac heard soft moaning as he passed back through the curtain.