Sinful Fantasies

copyright 2004 by Obsidianstars

My story and characters, don't steal okay? :)


"Welcome sir, to Sinful Fantasies! Where all your pleasures and expectations are guaranteed to be fulfilled! Walk around, take a seat, have some fun, and don't forget our hosts are here to please you in every possible way." The bunny-girl dressed in black, vermillion, and lavender laces ushered Bishop Lanson and a few of his business colleagues inside. The room was large, about the size of three houses put together, and that was only the bottom floor! There were two more stories to the host club that were accessible to customers but the stairs leading up to the second and third floor were sealed off with two muscular bodyguards. The owner reserved the fourth floor for himself as his own living quarters.

The dark atmosphere trembled with enticing promises. Most customers kept to the bottom floor where the bar was conveniently positioned toward the back of the room. Young college students drank merrily and had their fun with the hosts. There were many waitresses dressed in scanty French maid outfits. They each wore headbands with cat, rabbit, or puppy ears and a tail to match. Along the right side of the room was a long reception desk where Bishop assumed customers could reserve their favorite host or hostess. Overall, Sinful Fantasies had the most amount of people gathered in one area compared to other host clubs and Bishop was not surprised. He'd heard rumors about the number one host club nestled within the heart of a lustful city. His colleague friends decided to force him to join them in order to celebrate his huge promotion. After much debate, his father had made a final decision to hand over Lanson Corp. to Bishop rather than his twin older brother Shepherd. Lanson Corp. was where artificial blood—a breakthrough in technology, was created. Not just artificial blood. Artificial blood in which every patient's body would accept the transfer without rejection. With this great stride forward in medical science, they were now a fingertip away from creating non-rejectable artificial organs.

Since the business had just introduced this miraculous discovery, Lanson Corp. was still climbing the money ladder from the very bottom. As far as Bishop could see, the top step would not be conquered for generations to come, and their income would continue to accumulate highly during that time.

Bishop found a seat at a booth near the bar that had a large round table with red cushioned seats. His friends piled in one after another next to him and they didn't have to wait long before the hosts recognized new faces. In a host club, their ultimate goal was to make the new guy a regular to spend their money excessively. The entrance fee alone had cost them five hundred. Each.

Several women, and even a man, approached their table giving their names. They smiled and flaunted and giggled. The women were beautiful in their own way. One was a pure blonde with demanding blue eyes, luscious red lips, and delicate fingers. Another was a brunette with gray-green eyes, thick eyelashes, heavily curved features—especially at her chest, and her outfit stretched over her nipples . The man had short, black hair and navy-blue eyes, a boastful smile, narrowed eyebrows, and a walk that stated he could satisfy any position. He was handsome and Bishop and his friends, with their preferences bending to either sex, was taken by him.

Marley, a slightly overweight twenty-nine-year-old (six years older than Bishop), doted on the blonde though. He flagged a waitress in fishnet stockings for the best wine to go around. The waitress dipped her head and quickly came back with a bottle of something called… Bishop had to squint his eyes a little since the words seemed to blur in front of him… "Liquid Eyes". Bishop had never heard of the brand before, which startled him because he was an expert on expensive wine. Especially considering he had six bottles of imported wine prior to this event.

Marley popped the cork and poured them each a glass. He tipped his cup toward the blonde, Tessa, before taking a sip.

Danny, the stick of the group, blushed and wiped his glasses. He glanced nervously around and bowed his head nervously. The handsome blue-eyed male, Aaron, cuddled next to him and held Danny's arm. He flashed a smile full of white teeth that made Danny grin back unsure.

Zachary, the playboy, took a harem of men and women and flattered them endlessly.

"Yo Zach, if you ever lose your job you can probably fit in at home right here!" Marley guffawed and Tessa giggled like a good hostess was supposed to.

"Hey Bishop, why don't you play with one of these dolls?" Zach grinned as he nibbled at a woman's red fingernail. "We're here to have fun and get some love." He turned his head up to kiss the girl sitting on his lap.

Bishop raised an eyebrow. Just as he was about to take a woman from Zachary, another one appeared before them. This one was average-looking with short cherry wood brown hair that touched her ears, and soft, glacier-blue eyes. She wore a white shirt laced at the sleeves and neck. Her black jeans were tight that fit a slender waist and thin legs. There was a certain charm to her though as she bowed and said, "I am Calla, the number 6 host here. I've been ordered by Mr. Rechards, the owner, to attend to you."

As if this was a cue, all the hot women and sexy men who had showered them with affection, left. "Aw, what the hell's going on?" Zachary demanded.

"Those are temporary hosts. They appeal to the customers first before we regular hosts come in to serve." The girl named Calla explained. She wore no make-up, save the slight smear of red lipstick stained across her lips, and didn't paint her nails. She did, however, have one earring set in her right earlobe. It was a round, star ruby stud that glimmered even in this faint light.

Bishop raised his eyebrow. "You, an average-looking girl, are a host here?" He saw her raise her eyebrows in mild surprise but before she could protest, he continued with a smile playing on his lips, "And you think you can satisfy the four of us?"

Calla's cheeks burned as she fiddled with her fingers. "Then by all means, Calla, have a seat, don't be shy."

As Bishop and his friends placed a slight smile to their lips, he looked forward to the next few hours of torturing the girl.


Calla had seen them come in from the start but his eyes remained on the tall one in the group. The one with platinum blond hair tied in a neat braid down his back. He walked with his friends and glanced around the room in a bored manner with his opal green eyes.

They were all dressed formally in suits, but as soon as the temporary hosts joined them, they eagerly accepted their company.

Calla watched all this from the opposite side of the room where he sat with his own customer. The woman squealed with delight as he wore the shirt and jeans she'd bought him. She played with his hair and kissed him fully on the lips. Calla responded automatically, giving his customer the pleasure she sought in this dirty place.

A little beeping noise went off and Amanda pursed her lips as she dug into her bag for her cell phone. She read the number and sighed heavily, "Calla, I have to leave. My boyfriend is wondering where I am."

Calla knew all too well how to act to this situation. The woman would want him to plead for her to stay—so that's what he'd do. "So soon? We've only been together for two hours."

His response was rewarded with another kiss to his lips and a smile, "If you thought about becoming my boyfriend, I'll dump Josh."

"You know I can't do that. Host rules." Calla took Amanda's hand and kissed it. "I'll miss you terribly." And your money, he thought silently.

"Such a sweety, here's your tip. Sorry I couldn't stay longer." She pushed a wad of bills in Calla's pants and left. Calla thumbed through the bills with a smile. Amanda was a regular customer of his and he wanted her to stay a regular.

A shadow interfered with his counting and he glanced up. "Counting your spending cash, Calla?" Mr. Rechards grinned nastily. His angular face only accented his sneer as he stared down at Calla with black, foreboding eyes.

Calla stood to his feet and awaited his orders. "I assume you've already seen the four business men? My resources already told me they're from Lanson Corp. Since the top five hosts are gone, you'll need to keep them company. Do not fail me."

He left as abruptly as he had come. Calla's knees wobbled and he needed to hold on to the table to brace himself. Each time Mr. Rechards, his adopted father, spoke to him, every nerve in his body screamed to run. This time was no different. And if Calla didn't accomplish what Mr. Rechards demanded…

Calla touched the back of his head. Shaking the thoughts away, he made his way over to the table and introduced himself. The temporary hosts left and he learned the blond-haired man's name was Bishop.

After rude introductions, Calla now sat in the center of the large seat with Bishop to his left and a man named Zachary to his right. He'd never felt so oppressed with customers as he did now. Most customers knew or were told Calla was a guy, and for a guy, Calla was exceptionally beautiful. But as Bishop had so glaringly stated, as a girl, he was "average."

"Why so quiet? Please, enlighten us with your abilities as a host." Bishop grinned maliciously and poured more wine for himself.

Calla felt his throat constrict. He hadn't taken on so many customers at once and now they were staring at him as if expecting Calla to perform some circus act. Calla clenched his teeth and replied, "I'm terribly sorry sir, I perform well with my mouth, but I'm still working on my speaking skills."

"Ooh. Such dirty words." Zachary leaned toward Calla and breathed against his ear. "Want to show me?"

Calla tilted his head to the side perplexed, as Zachary dug out his wallet and cast several bills on the ground in front of the table. "As a host, I'd like to see this mouth which you prize so highly. Crawl on all fours and pick up the bills in your mouth." Zachary instructed. His fellow friends, including Bishop, laughed heartily and waited for their amusement.

Calla thought about storming off and ordering someone to kick them out, but he suddenly remembered Mr. Rechards. He winced inwardly at the thought of what would happen if he failed.

Sliding underneath the table, carefully avoiding the rainbow of sticky gum stuck on its underside, he crawled to the first bill and bent low to pick it up with his lips. As he placed the bill on the table, he noticed the green was smeared with pink and mentally smacked himself. Well there you go Calla, that's why they think you're a girl, he scolded himself angrily.

"Oh, when you bend, keep your ass raised. Can't you look more seductive? Are you really a host here?" Bishop leaned back and waved his hands, "Proceed."

Calla, red-faced, did as instructed. The men at the bar and from the other tables watched, intrigued. Several knew he was male and seeing him in such an obscene position made their pants stretch at the crotch.

When all the bills were placed neatly on the table, Calla, knowing better, stayed on all fours and awaited his next instructions. Damn you Rechards! He cursed silently as he glared heatedly at Bishop. Damn you Bishop.

"Eh...." Marley lifted his hand and showed about an inch of space between in his thumb and index finger, "She was so-so. I give her about a six."

"She was awful!" Bishop insisted, "If you judge her proportions, her allure, and her personality, she's all in the negative range."

"You're too harsh, Bishop." Danny chuckled nervously. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Ah, my friend, but I'm not done yet." He patted Danny's shoulder from across the table. Then Bishop turned his attention back to Calla. He stared at Calla before smiling in the most crude way Calla had seen.

What's the asshole going to make me do now? Calla grumbled as he calmed the heat in his stomach. I hate playing dog to these type of people, what's worse is they didn't even pay for me! How the hell am I supposed to make them regular customers if they don't even like me from the beginning, Rechards? Calla argued with his imaginary step-father.

"Come. Sit back down." Bishop motioned to the empty space Calla had been sitting in previously. He made no movement to stand and let Calla through so Calla crawled over the table and positioned himself between Bishop and Zachary once more.

I hate this, Calla's teeth chattered. I hope one of the top regulars comes back and catches their attention. Maybe they'll prefer Ambrose or Xanna over me. That's right, they'll prefer Ambrose or Xanna, become regulars to them and leave me alone. Mr. Rechards won't get angry because they'll still be spending their cash here and I won't get hurt. Who cares if I need money! My debt isn't too high…

"Let's see what kind of charm being a 'number six host' like yourself can do." Zachary teased as he squeezed Calla's knee. "Your face may look average, but your ass is damn cute."

Calla licked his lips, "And what kind of 'charm' did you have in mind?" He asked.

Zachary didn't answer. He pressed his lips against Calla's, taking him by surprise for just an instant before Zachary pulled away. "Well?" He waited impatiently.

You're finally walking on my turf. Calla laughed inwardly. I'll show you how I became number six in only a month. From that instant's kiss Calla had tasted a soft sweet-bitterness on Zachary's lips. The taste of wine. Luckily for Calla, extremely small doses, such as the slight residue still apparent on Zachary's lips, weren't too much of a problem.

Calla used a finger to separate Zachary's face from his. When Zachary looked about to complain, Calla hushed him by pressing his finger into that twisted mouth of his. Calla felt Zachary's slick wet teeth. He pushed further until his finger settled on his tongue. There, Calla grinned mischievously and trailed light circles. Then he twisted his finger so that he could continue making shapes in the sensitive area on the roof of Zachary's mouth. Zachary's eyelids drooped and he slouched falling into the sensation. Without realizing it, he moaned softly and began sucking on Calla's finger.

Caught you, Calla thought triumphantly. He weaved the fingers of his other hand expertly through Zachary's soft brown hair until his hand settled at the nape of his neck. Calla gentle turned Zachary's head to the side to expose his neck. He leaned forward and nipped at the collarbone, all the while he continued to stroke the inside of Zachary's mouth.

"Here?" Calla breathed and pressed his over the fleeting pulse. His voice vibrated calmly over the businessman's pale flesh. "Or here?" He used his left hand to pull Zachary's head back before trailing his tongue against that translucent throat. "Or… perhaps some place indecent?" Calla withdrew his right index finger and let his fingers curve over Zachary's suit where his nipple would be located, then down until it rested at his waist line just a fraction of a centimeter before that area.

"Just say it. Tell me what you want." Calla straddled Zachary, pinning him to the seat. His face gazed up into Calla's eyes which now radiated vibrantly. All he could see—all he wanted to see, was the figure before him. Ever since that finger intercepted Zachary's lips, he'd been taken in.

"What do you want?" Calla asked again, smiling as he made that last movement to touch the throbbing heat between Zachary's legs.

The older man threw his head back gasping with his eyes wide, "Oh god! You. I want you!"

Before Calla could torture his poor victim further, Bishop grabbed his shirt and pulled him away, "That's enough, Zachary. Has the playboy been played?" He insulted.

Zachary flushed, but his eyes remained glazed. "I…"

Marley and Danny were both as red as Zachary. Everyone else around the room glared at Zachary, envious.

"You must be thirsty, have a drink." Bishop offered a glass of the Liquid Eyes wine.

Calla blinked and stared at the crystal containing the expensive wine. He shook his head, "I apologize, but I cannot accept your offer…" As he said this, he moved Bishop's hand along with the glass of wine away.

Before Calla could give an explanation, Bishop countered, "I must insist. Or do you, a host, now think you've raised your status after seducing Zachary?"

"It's not…" Calla tried to explain again, raising his hands in defense.

"Drink." Bishop pushed the glass of wine in front of Calla's face once more and Calla interjected the glass from reaching his lips with his own hand. They were in a one-handed wrestling match with the glass of wine between them. Calla's hand tipped to the right accidentally and spilled over the table.

"Ah…" Calla took his hand back and held it near his chest, "Sorry…"

Bishop snatched the bottle of half-filled wine and poured the contents over Calla's head. "As a host, you should learn to drink wine. Isn't it supposed to be a requirement?"

Calla gasped from the cold. He lowered his head to keep the wine from falling into his eyes. He wiped the clear, blue liquid from his face, but couldn't remove whatever had flooded into his mouth when he drew in his breath.

It wasn't that Calla didn't like wine—in fact, he loved it. Especially Liquid Eyes, a type Mr. Rechards had imported from some place he wouldn't say. Calla loved the smooth blend as it washed over his tongue and the sharp tang it left afterward, but Calla had found out the hard way that he was extremely allergic to it. The last time he drank a shot glass of it, he broke down with a soaring fever. Sometimes it would leave him unconscious in a coma for days.

Right now, Calla could already feel the numbness sink in. He felt fire in every part of his body and was pretty sure it wasn't due to embarrassment. He stood and tried to hold back his coughs by placing the back of his hand over his mouth. That didn't do any good. Calla began choking as his throat swelled like it was infected and each cough made him stagger.

Calla didn't notice the commotion about them nor hear his name until the man walked right up to their booth. Strong arms plucked him out of that area and helped him stand. He glanced up to see familiar green eyes and dark, nearly black-blue hair.

"A-Ambrose." He managed before turning the other way to cough once more.

"Hang in there, Calla. I already sent Vistelle up to get your medicine." Ambrose turned his gaze toward Bishop. "Calla suffers from an allergic reaction whenever he has wine, which is why, if you'd read his contract conditions, it is forbidden to give him any of that."

Danny blinked behind his glasses, " 'contract conditions'?"

" 'He', 'his', 'him'?!" Marley and the rest of the four businessmen turned their heads toward Calla to take a better look, but Calla was already being carried upstairs by one of the bodyguards.

"Yes 'he'. You'd also know that if you'd read the contract. The contract conditions are those papers with a list of rules when acquiring a host." Ambrose waved to the long counter of receptionists who looked on in worry. "For Calla's case, the number one rule is not to give him any wine. If you break any rules, you, as a customer, hold the responsibility over any medical issues."

"We did not sign any such contract, therefore are not liable to these terms. He came to us of his own free will stating that it was under the orders of Mr. Rechards." Bishop informed. The only thing he favored more than expensive wine and sex was money. "I refuse to pay for services that were offered."

When Bishop stood, so did his colleagues. "I'm afraid our time here is spent. I'm sorry to say this was a disappointing evening. I expected more from this 'highly-famed' host club, but it appears it was a waste to come here. From now on, I'll be taking my business elsewhere."

As if on cue, the four walked out of the room. On his way out, Bishop gave a wad of bills to the French-maid waiter. "This is for the wine." He then left, never to be seen for the next year.


Okay, I know this was in the manga category even though none of the names/places/things are in Japanese. Agh! But that's not the point. The point is that I have a habit of writing things that might only appear in manga. For instance, further in the story, I just KNOW I wrote "He sweatdropped" or something of the sort. Now tell me... if I categorized this some place other than manga, would people really understand?

Yeah, it's really been a while since my last story huh? (And right before finals too! ) An odd thing is, this one isn't really in the Fantasy genre either. I also would like to inform you that I have NO knowledge on host clubs either! /sweatdrop/... So as a disclaimer, all people/event/places are made up and if there are similar settings in the real world, it is but a coincidence. With that said, please R&R and look forward to chapter 2.