The Pink Rose

Let me tell you a story, about a place of which I know…

If you saw it from the outside, The Pink Rose didn’t look like much.  It wasn’t in a bad part of town.  Just a quiet part.  Full of businesses that had fences around them, and houses nearby that were owned by the wealthy of the city.  This was where you’d find one of the most infamous places you’ve never heard of.  A large fence surrounded it, stone halfway and then metal the rest.  Everything about all of this looked very old.  Like some Renaissance house.  Surrounding the building was a well-kept lawn, several trees, and some lovely flower beds.  For those who just passed by, it was very nice to look at.  But not so nice that it would draw a crowd.  Just nice enough for people to find it pleasing and move on.
A wooden sign hung above the door, with a rose that is pink and has edges of gold carved and painted in.  The lettering is in a soft and feminine style.  It was warm and nice to see.  Both the door and the windows had bars over them, but they were in a style that went with the fence, so it didn’t seem out of place.  When the door would open, there would be the entrance.  The door was opened by a man who was quite large, but had a smile on his face and seemed pleasant enough.  Indeed he was, until you did wrong by him.  Then, he could snap bones with his bare hands.
The entrance was disconnected from the rest of the building.  In front of the second door was a young lady.  She stood in front of a screen, where she would check people in.  Anyone who was not approved did not gain entry.  Those who chose to make an issue about it were quickly shown the door.  But they were polite about it.  After all, some came here not knowing what this establishment was.  No reason to be rude.
If a new client did arrive, and they knew what this place was, they would have to be screened.  The girl would tap on the screen to call the appropriation staff.  The new client would be taken to a special room where they would screen and set up a file for them.  Each client would be asked a series of questions.  Some of these were to find their preferences, and others were to make sure that they were not carrying any diseases.  If a client was found to lie about anything in their admission interview, they would be immediately removed and banned, permanently.  This establishment was very clear about protecting both their clients and their employees.  Those who came here understood that, and would comply with all requests.  After all, you don’t want to lose your place here, once you understand just how good the service is.  Once the admission is clear, and a line of credit is established, the new client would be shown inside.

The main hall was a very pleasant place.  The smell of rose oil drifted through the air, along with music from a few musicians.  Sometimes it was piano.  Sometimes violin.  Sometimes mellow trumpet and sax.  Whatever it was, it was used to put clients at ease.  Some were more nervous than others.  Which is a point to mention about the admission process.  It was done in such a way as to put clients at ease about the work done here.  Here was a business that didn’t shame them.  Everyone who could afford it (a much more difficult task than you might think), was made to feel like this was a safe place.  Safe from the forces in their lives that they felt were judging them, or hurting them.  Whatever the case, here was somewhere to feel good.  In addition to the comfy chairs and the relaxing music, there was a bar where fine liquor was served by a man in very classy attire.  He was like the bartender at high-end hotels.  There was also a menu where appetizers could be ordered.  No reason that a client should go hungry while they wait, right?
One of the ways that this place worked to get their clients at ease was to have the girl that they had picked up come and talk to the new john.  They would ask to sit down, then start a conversation.  Unlike what you see in some movies, this place had girls who could just as easily talk philosophy as please someone, physically.  Some clients would come here just to have someone to talk to, or someone to feign intimacy with.  These girls never talked down to their clients.  Acceptance was the name of the game.  To that end, it wasn’t always johns who came here.  There were some janes as well.  Or johns who were looking for male services.  An open market for all desires.  Once the two were on good terms and comfortable, depending on what the client was looking for, the escort would take them upstairs, where the business at hand took place.

The Pink Rose had a catering for almost every conceivable fetish, minus ones that were medically unsound or lacked consent.  Clear rules were laid out for all kinky play, but the girls knew who their johns were, and if they needed to push the boundaries sometimes, they knew how far to go, and how to reign it in if necessary.  Each room was sound-proofed, so there would be no awkwardness.  No matter how loud and crazy it got, a client in the next room would near nothing.  So, if something went wrong, what then?  Well, unknown to any client, but each room has a special sensor, a kind of silent alarm, that could be pressed at any time, if the escort felt that they were in danger.  Since every door is opened with keycards, security can open any door at any time.  There is no way that a door can be blocked.  Granted, there is still some risk, but that is why the admission process is there.  If a client is believed to be a potential risk, then they will not be granted access.  If any problems do happen, it is taken very seriously.  This establishment wants to make the acts that happen as safe for all parties involved.
As previous stated, most any kind of desire can be met here.  Some clients even came for basics such as cuddling or basic intimacy.  Each of the escorts was given rigorous training, and the process of selecting escorts was even more rigorous than for clients.  The management was very clear about this.  If a client walked away unsatisfied, it was grounds for review of the escort in question.  However, if a client simply found themselves unable to follow through, that was different.  In that case, it is chalked up to nervousness or general fear of the activity that was to take place.  However, it is worth pointing out that a lot of those clients would come back, and often establish very positive relationships, once they were able to get past their personal hiccups.

At the end of a client’s visit, they would settle up with their financial obligations.  Clients typically would have a line of credit, as established upon admission.  In order to maintain privacy, The Pink Rose would have their money go through a couple shell companies, each one easily explained.  When a client would arrive, there would be a set amount of time that would be agreed upon for their visit, and the escorts were charged with making sure that the clients kept them.  Screens in the room would let them know when their time was coming to an end.
While the place was very expensive, the rate did change based on services desired, and amount of time needed.  An upper-middle class person could come here and partake of the more basic services.
The two owners of this bordello started it to be able to have high-end place for those who looked for companionship, but for it not to be some whore-house in the poor part of town.  For seven years, their mission was going quite well.  It was the best-kept secret in town, and all who partook got exactly what they paid for.

Until next time, a quote,

“I don’t know the question, but sex is definitely the answer.”  – Woody Allen

Peace out,

Maverick

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One thought on “The Pink Rose

  1. Pingback: Lucien’s Logical Paradox #2 | Lucien Maverick's Blog

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