Page 30 of The Chameleon

They had to be kept locked away… deep in the dark, where no one would ever find them.

Pressing closed those heavy doors, Ares took a breath, then adjusted his suit.

He hated to admit it, but they were right. People were despicable and couldn’t be trusted. No one. Not even…

“Bonsoir, monsieur. May I take your coat?” a young man wearing an expensive-looking suit asked. His smile was welcoming, and he spoke with perfect French diction.

That was one of the things about Matteo; he always made sure that his staff were impeccably dressed—well, at least the front-facing staff. The other boys, working in the theatre and roaming the hallways, were dressed a bit more…naughty.

Ares shook the dirty thoughts from his mind and returned a warm smile to the friendly man standing before him.

“Yes, thank you, boy.” He took off his coat and the hat he was wearing and passed it along to the helpful young man.

His hat was a stylish black fedora, which he had purchased from a tiny boutique shop hidden on the back streets of downtown Paris. The shop was a hidden gem, known only to those who were familiar with the back streets of France’s romantic district.

The shop had been around since the early 1900s and passed down from father to son over multiple generations. Each item sold was handmade and crafted to suit the wearer. Only the finest quality materials were used, and the craftsmanship was next to none. Yes, the hats may cost a small fortune, but they were one of a kind and made to last a lifetime.

Ares loved the hat. He thought it was stylish and made him look rich and powerful.

Oh, who are you kidding? You think that you’re balding and are trying to hide that slowly growing spot on top of your head. Trying to keep up with that sexyGQmodel are ya? Notsure why you even bother. The man has no interest in taking a second look at a decrepit old man like yourself. Rough hands, dry skin? Please. No one wants those hands touching their body—not even during a mercy fuck. Face it, old man, your time in the sun has passed.

Even his own inner thoughts were mean.

“Right this way, sir,” the handsome young man offered, leading Ares down a long hallway and toward a large set of double doors. Doors that would grant access to a world of sin and debauchery. A world filled with fantasy, intrigue, and understanding.

The boy pulled open the door and gestured for Ares to enter. Reaching into his pocket, Ares pulled out a fifty and passed it to the boy with his thanks.

“Merci, mon amour. I’m André. Let me know if you need anything,” the boy replied with the sweetest French accent.

Stepping into the theatre was like entering into another realm. The colors, the sounds, and even the air felt electrified.

People’s senses were immediately captured in the magic of the world around them. People laughed, and music blared; it was all designed to keep men’s endorphins running high and their morals running low.

The rhythm of the music called to Ares as he made his way through the dimly lit room—no doubt another trick designed to ensnare potential prey into a world filled with possibilities and wonderment… if only one would open their minds and call out to one of the many young men eagerly waiting to help bring forth all those fantasies.

A bottle of champagne was opened at a booth as he walked on by. Champagne was sent flying across the bare chest of one of Matteo’s handsome dancers, only to disappear between the hungry lips of the young man’s gentleman caller.

Two tables over, a short muscle cub poured a bottle of Jack Daniels straight into the open mouth of a handsy older man. The man’s long black fingers played with the fabric of his companion’s briefs, slowly sliding them in between the folds of the dark-green material. The young man let out a sinful moan as he ground his butt harder into the gentleman’s lap.

All around Ares, passion and desire flared. It was true what they said. AtLa Maison de M, men’s fantasies come out to play.

Ares stared out across the sea of half-naked men, some dancing, some grinding, some engaging in deep conversations with the men they were entertaining. All around him, people were enjoying themselves, lost in the magic ofLa Maison.

Matteo had built this.

The man had taken an idea and created a place where rich and powerful queer men could come and enjoy themselves without having to worry about judgment from the outside world. Here. Within these walls, people were free to be who they were meant to be.

Ares thought back to all his travels. In many places in the world, people were not able to live their truths. Many were persecuted or shunned because their sexuality or their sexual preferences went against societal norms.

Here, if you wanted to have a foursome or stand strapped to a pole while a man in an executioner’s mask flogged your naked ass, no one batted an eye.

Men’s sexual fantasies were their own and celebrated here atLa Maison.

Ares knew all too well the struggles against societal norms. He lived in a world fueled by hypermasculinity, fear, and intimidation. Everyone wanted to prove how badass they were, how strong and tough. If people didn’t fear you, they wouldn’t respect you. And if people didn’t respect you… well, they wouldtake you out at the earliest opportunity and steal whatever territory they could get their hands on.

There was no way in hell he was letting anyone take what he had worked so hard to achieve.

It began when he was in his early twenties and just starting to build a name for himself. He did everything he could to hide the truth about his sexuality, fearing that if anyone found out that he was a sword swallower instead of a muff diver, people would ridicule him and refuse to work for him.

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