Misha

Misha, featured in Claiming a Cobra and the now absent Hedonism in Lime Green, and soon to be in Wearing Misha...

Originally created to be a tall, very athletic and buxom vixen that presided over Purgatory, a very unusual night/sex club, Misha Salantir has a number of employees, all of them covered in tight, incredibly detailed latex outfits, who were there to serve the patrons of the Inner Circle -a club within a club- in any way needed.. Some people knew what they really were, what those 'employees' had done to get where they were. The outfits were their skin in every way possible, and there was no seam or catch to remove them. Living latex... some would see nanotech, others would think it magic. Through those outfits, which started as masks that the wearer must put on of their own volition, they could feel everything as keenly as if it were their own flesh. The outfits seemed to cater to what the wearer truly needed, be it induced arousal, hypersensitivity, or total mental domination. They needed no food or water, simply to serve the desires of the Inner Circle's patrons.

But there is much more to Misha than one would think. Because Misha can be anything. She can be he. He can be she. And sometimes, he will go out on a search for a new toy, a new plaything to bring back home. There are no masks for these poor, lucky individuals. Misha himself takes them, drawing his toys into his own body, expressed as a suit of ebon and blue latex. As with his masks, the toy may only be kept inside Misha's being for a while, helplessly used in total darkness and enwrapping warmth, with none the wiser as to the living fuck-toy that's within Misha's body. But those, like the lucky Tarot in the upcoming 'Wearing Misha' get much more. They are changed, flooded with Misha's essence, converted and turned into complete and total devoted servants to pleasure and lust.

Misha has a few rules, ones that she will not break. She never takes the truly unwilling, except in the case of those who have harmed her toys or employees, or those who have forced themselves on others. Should you say yes to her, you may never have an opportunity to say no. If one truly wishes to leave her service though, she will let them go. And she will not allow her toys or her greatest devotees to die.

The truth is, though, that Misha is more than magical or technological. They are divine. It is a demi-god of life, lust, pleasure and hedonism. It has the power to alter perception and avoid notice, and to have those not ready to understand it's true nature simply not see what they don't want to see. And to worship her, one simply needs to embrace that above all else. Serve him by satiating your deepest desires.

Purgatory and the Inner Circle

Purgatory is a sex club at its core. The club is in the shape of a giant O, and there are over a dozen doors that lead into the huge space. Everything about the place is built for comfort, and the staff are fastidious about keeping the place clean. There are private little walled off spaces against the walls, and couches and benches and seats just about anywhere. At any time of the day you can come in for a cheap drink and a shameless encounter. The staff are very diligent in ensuring that the two golden rules are followed at all times. "Everyone is welcome." and "Consent must be given and can be revoked."

At the top of the O, on a raised platform, is Misha's personal office. Frosted glass doors hide what's within, but typically those who are admitted in are greeted with an opulent, plush-carpeted office with a desk with three chairs in the middle, a large bed off to the side, a spanking bench and St Andrew's Cross on the other, and a wall of toys and implements of torture and pleasure. For those that have offended her, the place becomes a dank, terrifying basement room with the smell of death and suffering.

The inside of Purgatory's O is a lowered chamber over which floor to ceiling windows look down. This is the Inner Circle. From anywhere in Purgatory, you can look into there, where dozens of Misha's employees, with most of them covered in shining latex of some sort, serve the Inner Circle's patients in any way they desire. Whatever sort of toy you want, be it a whip, a strap on harness, a dildo, or even a simple condom, can be found at one of the four serving bars at the cardinal points of the room. In the middle of the room, if you want a piece of furniture for play, it will simply be there. To ensure that everyone's needs are served, there are a rare few have only latex collars for those who really DON'T like rubber. Just as often as not, you will find one of those latex servants on the dominant side of an exchange.

Four doors lead off into the live-in employees chambers and other more mundane places. Deep in the halls there is a strange door, looking less like a door than a strange, fleshy sphincter, that leads to a place that even Misha will tread carefully. Should you wish to go through that door, you will find yourself unable to return. Fantastical, frightening creatures will greet you, and you may even find yourself forgetting how you got there. Those creatures there that have a voice will call you one thing.... Outsider.

In truth, the entire club is Misha's own demiplane, and the doors open onto a dozen different realities. People who come in one door will invariably exit by the same one, even if they make a conscious effort to leave by a different one. In places where she is openly worshipped, her temples are arranged in the exact same shape and configuration, with the altar in the same place where her office lies.

Come by sometime. See what you find.