A/N: Hello, my lovelies and thank you for the reviews and follows. Please note that this fic is AU and AH. I usually write all human, alternative universe stuff…
-oOo-
-THE GASH YOU MADE WITH YOUR WHIP-
-oOo-
Does the devil pray, Kai wonders. Does he crave redemption or does he relish in his debauchery.
His thumb traces the edge of the embossed business card, its black with an intricate calligraphy for their tagline.
"Fleur-de-li" he reads then quietly looks around his office. He can see the charging bronze bull from the arched window behind his desk. It's a corner office in an immaculate building; he even has his name on the door. He's come far for a boy from Oregon. He's come far for a boy who used to live off food stamps and his father's weekly wages from the mill. He doesn't miss Oregon, doesn't miss the smell of rotting timber and the smell of tobacco and whiskey wafting off his father at three am on a Friday night.
He loves New York and most days he loves his life. And then there's Rebekah. Her family's loaded but he doubts that's the only reason he's with her. There was something between them once upon a time, some fire before he discovered that all she wanted was a white picket fence and a couple of babies. They're young, he thinks, barely in their mid-thirties and a kid is the last thing he wants. Picking up his cellphone, he dials the number on the business card. He's called it enough to know the digits off by heart but reading it off the card makes the novelty last a while longer.
"Fleur-de-lis, whatever you desire "a female voice answers, a practiced drawl that streams over the line. She has a restrained Boston accent that has been skillfully trained to sound more cultured.
"Lexi, I'd like to place an order" he tells her, swiveling around in his high back leather chair.
"You mean you'd like to make an appointment" she corrects him patiently and Kai rolls his eyes,
"Whatever" he sighs, biting his lower lip.
"And your name sir?"
"Really?" he arches an eyebrow, running a finger along his open laptop.
"Any specifications for your starlet?" there isn't one air of sarcasm as she purrs the word starlet and Kai silently commends her for her professionalism.
"I was thinking a Rita Hayworth"
"She's not available this evening sir. Would you like to sample Shirley Temple, Josephine Baker or Joan Fontaine, perhaps?"
He shakes his head when he hears the selection because his mouth is already watering at the prospect of leaving bruises on ashen white skin, the color of an Oregon winter. "I want a redhead or a blonde, milky skin, soft…" he says firmly before Lexi interrupts.
"I believe our Veronica Lake is available"
"Thank you, the Carlyle hotel and let's say six pm." He grins, assured of a magnificent evening.
Damon taps a knuckle to his door as he ends the phone call and Kai wonders why Anna, his secretary had not alerted him about the visit.
"Hey" Damon nods, his signature look of unruly raven hair and a bristled jaw looking out of place in an investment bank on a Tuesday morning.
"Hey, any word on the IPO pitch?" Kai points to a chrome and leather sit in front of his massive desk.
"Yeah, Mr. Abbar wants to sign"
"Nothing but net!" Kai pounds the desk with his fist. He loves winning; it's the closest thing to a cocaine high or an impassioned orgasm.
"We still on for tonight?" Damon enquires and Kai knits his eyebrows. He's already made plans tonight and he's not about to disappoint Veronica Lake or his faithful whip.
"Tonight?"
"Yeah, poker night. We're going over Stefan's plans for his bachelor party"
"Ah shit, "he starts and Damon presses his lips together, "Rebekah has this dinner thing with her brother, Elijah"
"Hey, no worriers. I would have cleaned you out anyway."
-oOo-
Bonnie likes to lie in most mornings. She likes the way the sun feels on her face as it filters into her bedroom. She doesn't have drapes on her bedroom windows; she doesn't see the need for them as her Soho loft is several feet off the ground. Emily, her sister calls her an exhibitionist and Bonnie always smiles because Em doesn't know how right she is. Even though her sister doesn't know what she does, Bonnie believes that she has had her suspicions but she sticks to calling Bonnie a party girl. They are relatively close, considering the fact that they have different mothers. Abby, Bonnie's mother died when she was little and Rudy Hopkins remarried. That's how her half-sister came to be. Slowly, she cracks her eyes open and kicks the cotton sheets to her feet until they lie rumpled at the foot of the bed. The shrill peal of her cellphone jerks her body awake and she falls off her bed. Moaning, she scrambles to her feet and picks the phone up as the tune dies.
"Hello"
"Hello, gorgeous." It's a male voice that has her mind reeling trying to place him.
"It's Tyler Lockwood, "he helps her out, "I hear you're back in New York"
"Good news travels fast" she remembers Tyler Lockwood from their drug fueled appointments where they'd hang for hours talking because he couldn't release on account of snorting too much coke. He used to be fun, uninhibited and creative. He's a trader at Lockwood & Lockwood investment bank and his father has strong political ties at the governor's office.
"Like wildfire where you're concerned, gorgeous" he says, speaking rapidly into the receiver. "Would you be interested in a date?"
"With you?" she smiles, walking over to the floor to ceiling windows that cover one wall of her bedroom, "of course, darling"
"Hmm as enticing as the idea of another date with you sounds, it's not me you'll be meeting"
"Are you my pimp now?" she chuckles and arches her back, stretching one arm over her head. The stretch feels good, waking up her tired limbs and she really gets into it with a sun salutation.
"Just call me Santa's little helper" he laughs and Bonnie hears traffic noise coming in behind him. She hears the hoot of a car and the bell of a hot dog stand.
"A little too early for Christmas, isn't it?" she says, bending forward so that she can touch her hands to her feet. She exhales as she straightens her knees.
"Then Christmas is early this year"
"Who's my date?" She leans into an equestrian pose and pushes her right leg back, left knee against her chest as she looks up to the ceiling.
"It's a surprise"
"I don't like surprises" she can feel the stretch between her shoulder blades when she slides forward into a cobra pose.
"Just be at 740 Park Avenue tomorrow night at 8pm" Tyler begs and she imagines his smile, "I promise you'll have a great time"
Rolling onto her back, she lies flat on the floor and stares at the wrought iron chandelier with dripping wax candles looming above her "Fine, how long is this date?" she sighs knowing she cannot resist a dare.
"Four hours, I'll wire you your gift just text me your banking details"
"You got it"
When she finishes with Tyler, she takes a shower and considers calling Caroline for a lunch date. She ends up going to the Guggenheim for a James Turrell exhibition.
-oOo-
The Carlyle is very appropriate for Fleur-de-lis girls, Kai reckons. Its vintage charm and elegance seems to suit Isobel's starlets. He's relished a few of them in the exact same suite. Taking a sip of his gin, he closes his eyes and drifts into a memory involving the Katherine Hepburn lookalike. Isobel has devised a brilliant business model, escorts who look like old Hollywood starlets. The girls are improved with the help of a brilliant surgeon so that Manhattan's elite, lecherous men can delight in them. Kai happens to be one of those men.
The knock on the door jolts him back to the present and he advances toward the door. When he opens it, he's met with a tiny figure clad in a silver hooded cloak. It's rather dramatic he think as she removes her hood but he reckons other men get off on the performance.
"Mr. Parker?" she flattens back her blonde hair and smiles up at him.
"Veronica Lake, I presume?" Kai tilts his head, looking at her through his dark eyelashes. She's pretty with a set of wide set blue eyes and lush red lips but she's no Veronica Lake. She shuffles inside the suite after he beckons her in, her silver sequined gown dazzling under the hooded cloak. After he helps her out of her cloak he offers her a glass of champagne and she expects.
"You will find the package contains a tip for your…company" he says handing her an envelope. His eyes roam over her side-swept blonde hair, the iconic forties curls swinging around her shoulders.
"Thank you" she smiles folding it in half.
"I think I need a refill" he tells her to give her a chance to store away her fee. Kai knows the game by now, he knows how they operate and for some reason they are always weary to store away their payment in full view of the client. When he walks over to her the second time, he is more than ready to proceed with the evening's entertainment.
"You have lovely skin. I can't wait to ravage it" he tells her, taking her hand and tracing his thumb around her pale wrist. When he has undressed her, he leads her to the bedroom flooded with artificial light. She lay on the bed, her skin silvery against her black underwear. Kai didn't tell her to remove her underwear because there was no need for that. He didn't book her for sex but rather to punish her.
"No DFK" she protests.
"What the fuck is DFK?"
"Deep French kissing" she explains, her voice shaky as she watches the silver handcuffs in his hands.
"Kissing is that last thing I want to do to you, sweetheart" Kai says, cuffing one of her hands to the bedpost. Slowly he walks around the bed, his eyes admiring his work then ties the remaining hand to the post. Finally he stands at the bottom of the bed, hands crossed against his chest and smiles. He likes how vulnerable she looks, spread-eagle like that. She looks broken, pained and it excites him because maybe then he can steal her light. He walks back to the head over the bed and takes a seat beside her.
"I want to hurt you; I'm going to hurt you" Kai caresses her hair, his fingers curling around her tendrils. "I bought you and now I own you" he says as she exhales. It's a shaky breath and her blue eyes plead with him.
"And when I'm done, you will thank me" he leans in so that he can whisper in her ear, "Without pain, pleasure would not exist" he assures her as his finger runs along her quivering jaw. Her eyes widen, her face blanches and her fear strengthens him. Kai smiles as he reaches for his small whip, his taste for her innocent flesh already prickling the skin on his arms.
-oOo-
"You holding anything?" Caroline asks as they wait for drinks at Per Se in Columbia circle. She winces when she touches the back of her head and Bonnie narrows her eyes at her. She's known Caroline for two years when she worked for Isobel. She soon discovered how limiting working for an agency was and left Isobel's team soon after. She notices things have changed since she left, for one thing Caroline's nose is sharper and her lips appear plumper. Bonnie has heard the rumors about the starlets and looking at Caroline reckons them to be true.
"Yeah, I have some coke on me" she says taking a sip of chardonnay, and then quickly follows with, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just a little battered up. It's nothing serious "Caroline shrugs as she picks at her scallion salad.
"Are you playing in the BDSM scene now?"
"I need the money"
"And is it worth that?" Bonnie gestures to the bruise peaking under her collar.
"The money's good and this, "she pulls up her collar, "this was just a guy who got overzealous"
"Where was this?"
"The Carlyle hotel" she takes a pull of her wine and presses her lips together while she looks at a concerned Bonnie.
"I thought there were rules for this sort of scene"
"You've never tried it?"
"I'm more of soft dominant." Bonnie hisses and stabs her beet salad.
"You've never been a sub?" Caroline's eyes widen and Bonnie shakes her head. She understands why a lot of girls venture away from the vanilla side of things to dabble in some kink but she doesn't think it's for her. She doesn't like playing by the rules and she certainly doesn't like taking orders from a man even if he's paying for her time.
"Being submissive even for pay is not in my nature" she tells Caroline and hopes to kill the topic.
"So you'd never consider it?" her friend probes, observing with wonder as Bonnie takes numerous forkfuls of beet before she pauses to respond,
"Let's just that I'd rather be the one holding the damn whip" she chews, glaring at Caroline.
-oOo-
The town car pulls up in front of a towering prewar apartment building with a doorman. Her driver swings around to open the door for her and she marches into the cool interior of a lit lobby. Slipping inside a private elevator, she fixes her coiffed hair and tries to settle her nerves. She realizes that this is the same address where Jackie Kennedy grew up and suddenly feels underdressed in a DVF dress. When the elevator dings, its doors slide open and in front of her stands the governor of New York, Atticus Shane.
"Carla, I've been expecting you" his smile is wide and it reaches his eyes. Her eyes stay fixed on him, her jaw locked as if she's forgotten all the words in the world. She feels someone advancing to her left and Atticus motions for her to lift her arms and hand over her purse for a search. She's somewhat pleased because she hasn't packed her coke supply tonight. When the bodyguard gives the governor a nod, he steps forward and offers Bonnie his arm.
"You're gorgeous, Mr. Lockwood certainly wasn't lying about that" he ushers her three rooms down where they find the dining room.
"Thank you" Bonnie's gaze drifts around the room, taking in the opulent dining table with flickering tables and a pair of plates set for a quiet dinner.
"After you" he nods her ahead and a waiter pulls her chair for her. She settles her nerves with a glass of red wine, its aromas wafting into her nostrils as the governor talks about his pugs and his last vacation in France. When the last morsel has been wiped off their plates, he takes her by the hand and Bonnie feels the shift of energy in the room.
Governor Shane trails his finger across her red lace dress, following the swell of her breasts before he snakes his arm around her waist. He buries his face in her hair and murmurs something inaudible before leaning back to say, "You smell really good"
"You're not so bad yourself" her hand glides up to the side of his neck. He has a subdued elegance about him that charms her enough to know why people voted for him. Finally releasing herself out of the fangirl mode, she plays the part she knows that he needs. He's eager to please, charm the pants off her and tonight she will let him because that's why he's paying for. Most clients never really know what they need until they experience it and it's her job to read them and offer them what they don't even realize they desire.
She allows Atticus to undress her, to trail kisses across her shoulders but she shies away from a full on kiss on the lips. She wants to tease him and so she pushes him gently away from her and step toward the bed to get more comfortable.
He watches her, his eyes glistening in the moonlit bedroom. She lets him stand there for a while, watching as she runs her hands down her legs and over her pert breasts. When she thinks he's endured enough, she taps her leg to call him over to her. She smiles as he crawls on all floors, submitting until he kneels between her legs. Looking up at her with pleading eyes, Bonnie removes her red sheer bra and allows him to slide her panties down her legs. He lays his head against the inside of her thigh while his finger draws circles on her left thigh. Forcing his gaze back to her face, he asks
"Will you sit on my face?"
Leaning forward, she fists her hand into his hair and tilts his head back so that the governor's looking directly at her "Be a good boy and beg" she orders him. She can tell it's going to be a long night but she's up for the challenge.
-oOo-
A/N: The concept of the Fleur-de-lis girls was borrowed from the brilliant movie, L.A Confidential. For those who are eagerly anticipating the meet –cute between Bonnie and Kai, it will happen sooner than you think.