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Aimée staggered a little bit as she walked into the club. Her head was spinning from what she just had done. But she could stop now, she was getting close - she could feel Samael's influence (or at least imagined it).
Determined she made her way to the stairs and tried to get up, to get to talk to Samael.
?
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As Aimée starts to walk up the stairs, at first she feels a pressure, as if something is keeping her back, and perhaps dooming her to fail at something else... but just as that thought starts to enter her mind, the pressure ends, and she is able to walk forward unhindered.
As she reaches the top of the stairs, she sees the familiar glow of the dim red lights of the upper level, and hears the sounds of amorous activities. Right at the top of the stairs, she encounters the two women she's seen here before, dressed in a nun's habit that ends at the breasts, and below that nothing but thigh-high boots and a a black g-string decorated with an upside-down gold cross. Both have beautiful facial features, deep red lipstick and sparkling green eyes.
"Samael has sensed your need," one says. "Your desperation."
The other says "Before you go pass, you must state what you are willing to do, and to give, in exchange for what you want."
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Aimée answered almost without hesitation. "Anything!" Yeah, desperate suited her right now. Desperate and pathetic, but she wanted to let them pay, to get back her dignity and pride.
To be the best yet again.
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"Anything," the first one purrs, her smile cruel. "So, you offer yourself body and soul to our Master in exchange for your heart's desire?"
"If that is the case, prove it," the second says. "Remove your clothing and offer your body to all here, offering them pleasure or allowing them to take it as they wish."
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Aimée hesitated a little longer now. How far would she have to go? Will she actually get anything from Samael or is he just - haha - fucking with her?
On the other hand, it's not like doing things like that was anything new for her; from the Invictus meeting, to the way she "convinced" the bouncer, she let her self-esteem slip a little more every time. Slowly her hands moved to her shaggy blouse, unbuttoning it. They almost felt numb, as if they didn't belong to her, but with each button she moved faster. It really was getting easier and easier, once you've started.
Looking at her feet while fully undressing herself Aimée wondered whether she will ever be able to respect herself again.
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Narration:
What Aimée endures next does nothing to improve her sense of self-respect. She is used sexually by the bulk of those up here, male and female alike, sometimes by just one but usually by two or more people at a time. Some take more than one turn with her, and much of what is done to edges into, or well past, the realm of the perverse even by the standards of all but the most debauched of Daeva. Much of what they do is less about sex than about power and pain and degradation. By the time things finish, Aimée's entire body aches, and she feels not just used, or even violated, but completely soiled, both literally and spiritually.
Somewhere toward the end of this, she happens to see two feet with perfectly-shined shoes. Looking upward, she sees a figure wearing a neat tuxedo and black leather gloves, with flowing, black hair... Samael. He directs some of the closing action, urging some of the other patrons to do things they are reluctant to try."Go ahead, you've wanted to for a long time, now is your opportunity" Samael says to one woman.
Through this all, Samael is expressionless, and once she's noticed his presence, Aimée notices that he seems to be making an effort to be able to see her face, even look into her eyes.
Finally, when her ordeal is finished, he walks over to the red door. As before, when he intones the syllables necessary to open it, some of the clubgoers cower and whimper. Maybe it's an effect of what has just happened, or perhaps it's a lingering effect of her having been gifted by Samael's power previously, but Aimée feels both pain and a bit of fear as she hears these syllables, the pain something beyond physical, as if someone had violently violated her very soul. It fades slowly as Samael stands by the open door, among the fog flowing outward and backlit by a pale red glow.
"You have earned my attention. If you would speak with me, follow, crawling," Samael tells Aimée. "But first, you must thank these others for the attention they have shown you."
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Aimée was broken.
The voice inside her head, that little rest of self-respect died piece by piece during what was done to her, wilted like a flower taken from its garden. The pain she felt while Samael opens the door was mixed with a submissive glee, the feeling that she had done something right, something that earned her Samael's attention. Following his orders she turned to the patrons of club Inferno's upper level, her body aching and her inside comfortably numb. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen." Her eyes were already on the ground and her knees followed shortly.
The worst? She really didn't mind at all anymore. She meekly wondered whether Samael could fix this, make her whole again, or whether she was damned to remain in this role. He had the answers, so she would do as she was told.
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Samael waits until Aimée crawled through the door, then followed, closing the door behind her. Afterward, he moves past her, down to the end of the hall.
As always, there are a number of doors along both sides of the doorway. As Aimée crawls, she hears sounds coming from behind some of the doors: mostly sounds of a sexual nature, but more often than not intermixed with other sounds, those of pain, or sadness, or anger.
At the end of the hall, Samael waits by the door. Once again he enters after Aimée and closes the door behind her.
The floor is carpeted in black and red. There are two comfortable-looking leather chairs in the room. Samael sits in one and waits to see wiat Aimée will do.
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Aimée ignored the screams from the other doors - it was none of her business. What was her business, however, made her aching body shiver in anticipation. Samael was going to make her whole again, to take away that feeling of worthlessness.
The choice of seating was obvious for her: without thinking about it she came to rest vis-à-vis of Samael - still on the ground. A month earlier she would've chosen as decidedly as today, but the choice would've been a different one.
Keeping her head down, she waited for Samael to speak. There were certain manners when dealing with superiors, after all.
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Samael sits silently for a time as Aimée remains silent and maintains a submissive posture.
Finally he bids her "Tell me what brings you here tonight, Aimée Noel."
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