Sips of Blood by Mary Ann Mitchell Page A

paradis!"

 
     
     
    "...I am in a state of the most violent agitation: I
shall not describe the night I passed: my tormented imagination
together with the physical hurt done by the monster's initial
cruelties made it one of the most dreadful I had ever gone
through."
     
    Justine
    by the
    Marquis de Sade

Chapter 18
     
     
    The Vault. Paddles. The Hellfire Club.
Garrett had made his way down to the meat packing district, a part
of Manhattan bustling during the day with humans cutting and
packing meat and at night with rats licking up the scraps and blood
left over from the day.
    Garrett took a turn onto a dark side street.
A dim streetlamp revealed the presence of a few rats scurrying
across the blood-stained surface of the sidewalk. The rodents
didn't appear to fear him; they were busy seeking dormant flesh.
Uncomfortable with the sight, Garrett stepped down from the curb
into the street to avoid confrontation. Once past the rats he
stepped back onto the sidewalk. He wanted to find Rapture, the
fourth club on his list. Business associates had talked about their
slumming at sex clubs. Just to watch, of course, they always added.
Garrett decided to browse alone in case someone caught his
interest. He also left his chauffeured car at home, fearing it
would attract attention. If an acquaintance saw him at one of the
clubs, he could turn on his machismo attitude and join his friend
in having a drink while sharing a laugh over the scene they viewed.
He had scanned all the s/m magazines and noticed that several of
the clubs were grouped together in Chelsea and the Meat Packing
District. Rapture seemed to be the hardest to find.
    No one walked the streets. It amazed him how
desolate the streets near the clubs were, since the clubs
themselves were crowded. He wondered whether an underground tunnel
existed, or whether the players never left the scenes.
    An oasis of a restaurant appeared in the
midst of the sweltering silence of the summer night. A cab pulled
up in front of the restaurant, and a man and a woman stepped out.
Perhaps they would know. But he hadn't moved quickly enough,
because the couple rushed into the restaurant.
    He moved closer to the restaurant and peeked
in the window. On the inside the restaurant looked like a
pretentious diner. Formica-topped tables with chrome-frame metal
chairs crowded in on each other, and at every table customers ate
their meals elbow to elbow. The young, professional couples
appeared to be dressed down in their designer jeans and
environmental T-shirts. Several people waited near the door for a
table.
    Garrett mulled over whether he wanted to go
in and ask about Rapture. He didn't. He couldn't say whether his
hesitancy was because he didn't want to appear out of the loop in
the midst of a crowd that obviously thought they made up the loop,
or whether he would be embarrassed if someone did recognize the
name of the club.
    The people at the table directly in front of
the window started waving at him and beckoning him to come in. He
knew they didn't want him to join them, since he couldn't have
squeezed himself in anywhere at the table. He guessed they felt as
if he were gawking at them. When he looked down at the food on the
table, he saw what he expected. Meat loaf, fried chicken, and
Salisbury steak. Old-fashioned diner food being served up as a
culinary experience.
    A deep bark distracted him away from the
restaurant. A tall, baldheaded man in leather walked his Great
Dane. The dog and the man wore matching spiked collars. If
anyone would know...
    "Excuse me." Garrett approached the stranger.
The man's pale blue eyes inspected Garrett's clothing. That day
Garrett had worn his undertaker special, a plain black
single-breasted suit with a white shirt and a black and white
paisley print silk tie. "I wonder would you know where the Rapture
Club is."
    The man stopped, and the Great Dane sniffed
Garrett's crotch.
    "Are you a member?"
    "I didn't think a person had to be."
    "Only for the locked