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    Under the Roses
    Under the Roses
    Under the Roses
    Ebook69 pages58 minutes

    Under the Roses

    By Jack Stratton

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    On a side street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, beneath an ordinary-looking flower shop, is a modern-day speakeasy that only those who have a password can get into: Under the Roses. It’s an exclusive spot where the fashionable are served more than cocktails. Enter a world of elegance and debauchery; sexy burlesque dancers; wild jazz musicians; tattooed bartenders; and a mysterious owner who monitors everything that happens. Under the Roses is always alive with seduction and entertainment of every kind.

    Alison decides to go to the sexy speakeasy she keeps hearing about, only to find that it’s closed for a special event. But she runs into an old college roommate who invites her to what turns out to be a kinky sex party.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBryant Street Shorts
    Release dateMay 7, 2020
    ISBN9781094409986
    Author

    Jack Stratton

    Writer, hedonist, feminist, queer, kinky, polyamorous, dandy. Join my Patreon for access to over 100 stories, audiobooks, and more. 47 years old. Brooklyn. He/him.

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      Book preview

      Under the Roses - Jack Stratton

      Part 1: The Chauffeur’s Guest

      Alison turned down the dark city street and looked at her phone again: 313 Prince Street, a closed flower shop, just like her friend had told her — a real speakeasy!

      She recently moved back to New York, and she was determined to enjoy everything the city had to offer. That Saturday, she had been to the Museum of Modern Art, eaten brunch, then went home and slipped into something special. She was wearing a retro-style dress, black with little red roses on it — appropriate for the venue, she thought — red high heels, and red matte lipstick. Her dark hair was half pinned-up in finger curls.

      The place was called Under the Roses. It was a nightclub under a flower shop. You had to know a password to get in, and you needed to know someone inside.

      She looked through the plate glass of the flower shop window, at the rows of different colored roses and orchids. She saw her reflection: The edges of her eye makeup were still sharp, and her red lips were still perfect, despite the rain she had dodged.

      As she looked around, she saw a handsome couple walking toward her, two women, both very beautiful in their own way. The taller of the two had short, slick black hair, like the hair she had seen in pictures of Parisian gay clubs in the 1930s. The couple, arm-in-arm, stopped a bit away from where Alison was standing. They tapped something on their phones and, in a moment, a light appeared behind the glass of the closed flower shop.

      A thick-necked man in a simple black suit came to the door and unlocked it, greeted the couple with a nod, and let them in. When they were inside, Alison shook her head and snapped herself out of her trance. Before the doorman locked up, Alison tapped on the glass.

      I’m here for the bar, too, she said to the man. I have the code.

      The man looked at her blankly.

      It’s… ‘Incarnata,’ she said, reading off her phone.

      When the man didn’t react, she grew flustered. She took out her phone and texted the number her friend had given her. The man’s phone vibrated. He took a deep breath.

      The first Saturday of the month is a special event. I’m afraid I can’t help you this evening, he said with a little bow.

      The man locked the door and started to turn, but she could see the light on his phone come on again.

      Another couple turned the corner, a tall, bearded man in a black pinstripe suit and a woman in what looked like a chauffeur’s outfit; it was an old outfit, like something from a James Bond movie. As Alison looked at her, recognition passed over her.

      Liv? she asked.

      Alison? the chauffeur asked back.

      The two embraced, somewhat awkwardly.

      Olivia was Alison’s college roommate. They had been close friends during school and for some time afterward, but like so many college friendships, they eventually grew apart.

      Are you here for the…? Olivia seemed to struggle to find the word. Event?

      Alison looked at Olivia’s companion: tall, good looking, though not the kind of partner she imagined for her old friend.

      Oh, Alison, this is Byron, Olivia said, appearing unsure of how to introduce him.

      Byron smiled cooly and shook Alison’s hand. Olivia, shall I leave you to chat with your friend for a bit? he asked, a little formally.

      Olivia looked back at him with something like fear in her eyes.

      Oh, would that be alright, sir? Just for a few minutes? she asked.

      I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t alright, he said and then gave her a smile.

      He kissed her on the forehead, turned to the doorman, and was led into the flower shop. For a moment, he met Alison’s eyes, and she felt herself shiver.

      I’m here because a friend told me this was a secret bar. I didn’t know there was a private event tonight, Alison said, hugging Olivia again.

      Yes, it’s a sex party. Well, more of a BDSM party. Do you know what that is? Olivia asked, her eyebrows a bit furled.

      Of course I know what BDSM is. I was your roommate, remember? Alison said.

      I have to go in, it’s sort of a big night for me. But we should hang out soon. I miss you, Olivia said, pulling out her phone.

      Yeah, of course. I’m a little mad, I really wanted to see the bar. I came all the way downtown. Then seeing you. Then hearing there is something sexy going on in there. It’s all very intriguing, Alison said.

      Olivia studied her old friend, before finally saying, I could bring you as my guest. There are a lot of rules, but basically, you should just look around and not interact with anyone except for Byron and me. Would you be interested in that?

      Olivia began typing on her phone as Alison considered the offer. Alison wasn’t a prude; she had an old boyfriend who

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