Geologist: Dr. Magnus Urquhart

[Laraqua]

The weather was cool and clear. He had reached Berlin late Wednesday night, shortly before the conference. He had already pre-booked his hotel and already knew a few exotic locations he could try out, should he be brave enough. Berlin not only had its sex industry, it had its erotic night clubs, its XXX night clubs, its orgies, its raves, its heavy metal industry, and practically everything else under the sun. He even knew of a few places that would be open this time of night. But first, to put his luggage in his hotel room.

OOC: Please give a brief description of the hotel he has chosen to stay at and mention what mode of transport you used to get here.

[John Gaunt]

Magnus finished tipping the bellman and surveyed room 318 of the
Hotel Wittelsbach am Kurfürstendamm. The hotel was strategically chosen by him, both for its proximity to the city center and for its relative affordability. His lodgings were adequate, not extravagant, by design. His Russian benefactors at the energy company YUKOS had him on a fairly generous per diem to attend this scientific symposium and if Magnus was frugal, there'd be enough surplus to indulge in his more prurient interests. Speaking of which, although the flight from Moscow via Aeroflot-Russian Airlines had been somewhat exhausting, hotel rooms invariably made him feel ruttish. He could catch up on his sleep later as he was not about to squander a moment's free time.

Berlin?! Berlin! He could scarcely believe it. He was finally here! Without further adieu, the horny Scotsman plugged in and queued up his laptop for the the addresses he had bookmarked of all the various sex and fetish clubs he had researched in preparation for this trip. He was going to experience first hand this city's storied decadent delights!

[Laraqua]

He had the addresses to Bound2F*CK, Red Light, Elysium, '1021', and Hotel Paradise. They were the main businesses he'd had suggested to him from a few of those in the red light districts back where he came from.

[John Gaunt]

Given that he was in the mood for something positively bacchanalian, the name Elysium spoke to him.

[Laraqua]

He has a number for a German taxi service and an English-to-German dictionary.

[John Gaunt]

Magnus dials the front desk and, upon getting an answer, inquires: "Sprechen Anglais?" When an English speaking concierge comes on he continues "Room 318 here. I'll need a taxi cab to to transport me to this address..."

[Laraqua]

The taxi driver will arrive in fifteen minutes. "Elysium" is on the same street as "1021" so if the former wasn't too exciting, he could always try the latter. The house rules he had been emailed are as follows:

No outside cameras
No fighting
No contraband
No Outside Alcohol
DRESS CODE!
Absolutely no street or casual wear
unless part of an acceptable
ensemble costume
Permitted attire includes: vinyl, pvc,
leather, tuxedo, full uniform, fantasy
or period costume, cross-dress, rubber
bondage, body paint, fancy lingerie,
other risque costume. No full lower
nudity.

[John Gaunt]

Fifteen minutes wasn't going to be enough time to freshen up fully but a prodigious splash of Sex Panther, his new pheromone cologne would go a long way towards obviating any lingering BO. He quickly changed out of his worn travel clothes and into his leather chaps, silver formfitting, sleeveless PVC shirt, motorcycle jacket, and biker boots. He was especially fond of his new motorcycle jacket with the dyed blue ermine collar.

"Oooo, you sexy devil you," he sighed approvingly to the visage in the mirror. Tweaking his own nipples, the Scotsman welcomed the flush of tumescence.

"You may even get some quim tonight without paying for it," he added hopefully.

[Laraqua]

Heading out to reach the taxi, bypassing a completely straight faced concierge who bid him guten nicht, he got only a few precious moments to catch the scent of Berlin: gritty, urban, with a touch of food and plants exotic to his senses. Then he was off in a whir of traffic, moving around with great speeds by a Berlinese man who could speak five languages and was trying to raise his two-year-old to do the same.

The Red Light District is slower, less populated by cars. They pass by the Oranienburger Straße in the Mitte district of the city at night and he can see a number of scantily dressed ladies of the night strutting by the street kerb. The best thing is, prostitution is legal here so he won't get hassled by undercover cops.

Then they keep on down another few streets until finally reaching a place with a plain brick wall and a steel door with a sliding peep hole. There's another copy of The Rules! tacked up beside the door. Above the door is a sign that says simply "Elysium".

[John Gaunt]

Before tipping the driver handsomely, Magnus asks for his card. Upon reaching the door of Elysium, he tries it to see if he can gain egress and barring that, will rap upon the steel door with his knuckles.

[Laraqua]

The slit is pulled open and a pair of brown eyes give him the once over. "Twelve euros."

[John Gaunt]

Magnus unquestioningly pushes the bill through the slot.

Is the voice male or female?

[Laraqua]

The door is open by a heavy-set man wearing a shirt of finely woven chain links, a collar and tight leather black pants. The air is humid and pungent with musk and perfume in the little corridor that snakes away from this most humble of reception rooms. The man smiles at him, his teeth seeming too large for that bald head, giving him the impression of a Cheshire Cat about to fade away. "Come in."

[John Gaunt]

"Why, I don't mind if I do," Magnus replies enthusiastically, his excitement becoming palpable. He enters the corridor and squints as his eyes try to adjust to the gloom, all five of his senses straining for input.

[Laraqua]

Background Music.

The walls are painted in psychedelic patchworks of colorful paints that glow under the purple lights that are strung down the corridor. To the right, a narrow corridor branches off to unisex toilets that already had a line nine people strong. To the left, a near identical corridor with a line ten people strong.

Further on down the main corridor is a woman with "big tits and blonde hair you just want to pull", as one of Magnus' friends' would've described her. It's almost unbelievable that you could have ever missed her, wearing this killer antique looking corset, white, that pushed her cleavage up for display, and blonde hair gathered into two pigtails. Her leather pants are black and shiny and her ensemble was finished with thick soled boots which raise her petite form a few inches higher off the floor. In her hands she held the end of a leash.

On the other end, firmly attached to a spiked collar, stands a much taller man. His chestnut brown hair is short and styled. Wearing a form fitted t-shirt, red in color, and incredibly short matching pants.

The two disappear around a corner into the main dance hall. Loud trance music plays, flowing over him, as he turns the corner and enters the main club. The single floor design features two bars, one on either side of the dance floor. Its furniture is made up of soft couches and chairs around low tables. Though the dance floor is lit by typical theatre-style lights the remainder of the lighting is with wall-mounted, modern design pot-lights. Club goers give lap dances for their dates, several topless dancers sweat beneath the lights, and heavy petting takes place in full view to the melodic beats. Strung from white-and-gold cages are three women in white stockings, garters, corsets and lingerie, feathery wings erupting from their backs.

[John Gaunt]

First order of business is to secure some libation and he settles upon a frothy pint of German lager served to him by a slender, bald fellow clad in a rubber maid's outfit. That accomplished, his gaze sweeps the tableau of rhythmic flesh in search of the Eiffel eyeful in the white corset he glimpsed upon his entry . The scene is a veritable carnal candy store for Magnus as he glides beneath the caged beauties and leers lasciviously. Unconsciously, he taps his booted toe and undulates his leather clad love handled hips to the beat. The crush of bodies in conjunction with his palpitating heart causes his brow to bead with perspiration. His torso, slick with sweat, slides sensuously beneath his PVC shirt. Oh, this is truly living!

[Laraqua]

He spots them again. It's not hard. The two work the crowd like pros. They chat with people at the tables around the dance floor. When she tugs the leash lightly her male companion immediately switches his attention to her. She pulled him out onto the dance floor. He stood still as she grinds her enticing body against his to the beat of the music and delight of the nearby crowd. Her hands flow about his body and it produces a sly smile on him. She pulls the leash hard causing him to bend forward. With her hand on the back of his head he pulls his face into her cleavage. She tilted her own head and up and her eyes sparkle in the dance floor lights.

[John Gaunt]

"What that bird needs," Magnus thinks to himself "is a shag from a real man." He arches an eyebrow and attempts to catch her eye with a wolfish grin. Barring that, he scans the crowd for a likely prospect, optimally a lone, inebriated female.

[Laraqua]

The blonde doesn't seem to notice him at all though catching someone's eye in any night club is surprisingly difficult. Perhaps he should actually go up to her if he wanted her attentions. Otherwise, there was a curvaceous red-head in red pumps, red leather pants and a red bra who was currently on her own.

[John Gaunt]

The Scotsman downs the remainder of his drink. He points his index fingers skyward from the top of his head and with a cry of "Toro! Toro!" rapidly approaches the vision in red.