DLFG

Business and Pleasure, chapter 12

Sep 8th, 2019
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  1. Time flies when you're having fun, or so the saying goes. It certainly seems like a long time since I've thought about putting pen to paper and recording a few more of my intimate stories for posterity. I'd like to spin some grand story of having been torn away from my affairs in the Second Circle to save the world, or stop a war, or commit some other awe-inspiring act of heroism, but sadly the truth is a little more prosaic. I've just been too busy.
  2.  
  3. Prostitution, as those of you who've been with me from the start may remember, was for the longest time technically illegal in the city-state of Swyndel. It was banned as a form of slavery and while the prohibition was largely unenforced, brothels were forced to masquerade as bars or taverns and make at least a token gesture towards keeping their illicit activities circumspect.
  4.  
  5. The council of merchant-princes who ruled Swyndel had never been satisfied with this. Aside from the odd bribe, which didn't always come in the form of coin, whoring as a trade went on blissfully free of taxation, and the fat slugs couldn't stand the idea of not being able to take their slice of someone else's labour. It was only the danger of a trade war - where the sudden rush to capitalise on a new market saw the princes turning their private armies against one another - that kept them from changing the law, and eventually not even that fear could hold them back.
  6.  
  7. Calotta, the owner of the bar-slash-brothel I lived and worked in, saw the change coming and decided to get out while she could. The Second Circle had been good to her, but she had never trusted the princes and wasn't willing to risk her life, and the lives of her employees, if things turned bad.
  8.  
  9. I've always been an impulsive person. Carlotta didn't exactly make me an offer, but she knew I had a fair amount of money stashed away. When she airily mentioned the low asking price she was thinking of listing the Circle at, she knew damn well what was going to happen.
  10.  
  11. And that, dear friends, is why I've been too busy to keep you updated. It turns out running your own brothel takes more time than you'd think.
  12.  
  13. In the end the the trade war never really manifested. There were stories of armed scuffles between troops loyal to two of the princes, Mercillio and Vanderglauss, but no evidence ever emerged. What there was, however, was an awful mess as each of the city's brothels struggled to woo a merchant-prince into acting as their benefactor. Those who were successful were formerly recognised and allowed to continue their trade, albeit taxed and regulated; the rest were abruptly forced out of business.
  14.  
  15. The Second Circle, I'm glad to say, was one of the first to be picked up. That alone helped us through the rocky period while I found my feet; for a while we were the only functioning brothel in the city's outer district, which meant I had to spend as much time on my back as I did behind a desk. But those first few months got our name out, got a solid base of regular clients, and got us enough time to get used to the new regulations before they came into effect.
  16.  
  17. Three years on and things are going swimmingly. As is the way of things, some of the working girls (and boys) moved on and others came in to replace them. We still make a nice side profit acting as a tavern, though the line between 'whore' and 'table staff' is a lot less blurry these days. We've even made enough money to start expanding the building; a discreet door leading from the wine cellar now brings one into a specially-built underground playroom, and I've got plans for an open-air garden on the roof for clients who want to do it outdoors without the risk of being murdered by goblins.
  18.  
  19. After the first of those three years, I stopped taking clients. For some reason I thought it might hurt our reputation if people knew the owner was hooking along with her staff; like they might see us as cheap, somehow. That state of affairs lasted for about six months before I was faced with a client who wanted to fuck me in the ass and responded to each 'no' with a higher number. The rule thereafter was that while the manager didn't officially take clients, for the right price, she was available for...private consultations.
  20.  
  21. The right price, of course, largely depended on how attractive the client was and what they wanted to do. But it was never cheap, and the amount some clients had supposedly paid for a 'manager's special' quickly became a popular point of gossip among the Second Circle's working girls.
  22.  
  23. So it was that when I was called downstairs to see a man who had asked for me by name, I found Sydil already waiting for me, eager for news.
  24.  
  25. The Second Circle's ground floor hadn't changed much from Carlotta's days in charge. Its two concentric circles were already packed and rang with the clamour of excited voices, clinking coins and rattling crockery. The elvenstone walls were studded with deep alcoves, each just large enough to squeeze two or three people in around a small table. The Circle's whores plied their trade from these nooks, either waiting for a customer or parading around the raised outer ring and only retreating back to their nests once they had a client in tow.
  26.  
  27. The nooks were, technically, only supposed to be used for negotiations; once a price had been agreed, the happy couple would elope to one of the upstairs room to complete the arrangement. Several of the girls took advantage of the velvet curtain fitted to each to simply do the deed right there, though; a few had even made a reputation for themselves by using the cramped space for illicit quickies with customers too cheap to pay for a full session. Occasionally they even left the curtains open, earning their pay amidst the whoops and cheers echoing from the recessed dining area which dominated the central floor and heavy oak bar set along the far wall.
  28.  
  29. I stepped neatly aside as one of my newer girls (my girls - the thought still felt strange, even after half a decade) hurried past the bar and up the stairs with a stubble-chinned young man in tow.
  30.  
  31. "Liona's settling in well," Sydil remarked. The other woman waited at the bottom of the stairs, leaning casually against the banister with her arms crossed and a look of amusement on her round face. She nodded her head towards the disappearing footsteps behind me. "A few weeks ago she could barely set her prices without breaking out in stammers."
  32.  
  33. "We all go through that stage, don't we?" I grinned and poked her playfully in the arm. "From what I recall, you wimped out halfway through servicing your first client. He came barreling out of the room spitting brimstone and I had to finish the job in my office."
  34.  
  35. Sydil laughed. She was a tiefling like myself, the only other working in the Second Circle, and with my semi-retirement had inherited a large client base of men who expected her to pick up right where I had left off.
  36.  
  37. "I suppose it was a bit of a rough entry to the profession," she admitted. Sydil was shorter than me - most women were, in truth - but made up for it with a long pair of branching, gazelle-like horns that, combined with her wide eyes and turned-up nose, gave her an oddly fae appearance. Her narrow tail swished playfully back and forth as she looked me up and down. "After all, not everyone is a born slut like yourself, Ireela. Some of us had to get used to it."
  38.  
  39. "Born whore, thank you very much." I wagged a finger at her. "Sluts don't get paid. And besides, you're the one slumming it here with the rest of us. Or did your illustrious forebears neglect to pass down anything more useful than the ability to wear a faceful of come like it's a crown?"
  40.  
  41. It was an old joke between the pair of us. Sydil was descended from the first generation of pureblood tieflings to migrate up from their empire in the south. That made her something like nobility among the Seven Cities' tieflings, while I wasn't much more than a common mutt with pronounced seducer heritage. She wasn't too proud to avoid capitalising on her ancestry, mind; she could play the fallen, runaway princess act to perfection.
  42.  
  43. Sydil rolled her eyes and let out a great, theatrical sigh of exasperation. "It's called class, you trollop, and it always shines through in the end. Even if it has to fight its way past a few drippy extra layers first."
  44.  
  45. "Uh-huh. I tell you what, why don't you run along and find whoever wants to speak with me? Tell them I'll be at the bar."
  46.  
  47. The other tiefling sketched a mock bow and quickly slipped off into the crowd while I settled down to wait. It was always a strange feeling, being down on the work floor. The realities of running a business kept me away from it more than I liked and as the old, familiar sights and sounds washed over me, I found myself easily slipping back into old habits. Without thinking I shifted on the stool, drawing my leg up to part the dark, lacy folds of my skirt. Fingers toyed with the lacing of my corset before wandering up to stroke the line of my cleavage.
  48.  
  49. Part of me missed the simplicity of the old days. No tax forms. No arguments over pay. No negotiations with the district councils or dull meetings with the merchant-prince's representatives. Just the clink of gold, the warmth of flesh atop me and the soft kiss of silk beneath. Gods, I thought, what I'd give for a few nights of honest hooking again. A faint shiver ran down my spine at the idea. I could even explain it as a ground-level examination of the business.
  50.  
  51. I shook myself from my stupor when I realised I was making bedroom eyes at a fine-looking man across the room. "Professional, Ireela, do try and stay professional," I muttered to myself.
  52.  
  53. Gorrsa, the broad-shouldered orcess who tended the bar, had just brought me a glass of honey wine when I saw Sydil's distinctive horns working their way back across the dining area. I craned forwards, trying to get a look at the man following her as he wove through the crowd. He was a tall fellow, lean and dressed in well-worn dark leathers that gave him the appearance of a bedraggled raven. Closely-cropped black hair and an aquiline nose only added to the illusion. I pursed my lips, trying to gauge his age as he drew closer. Thirty? No, closer to forty. There was a measured, regal bearing to his movements I didn't often see in younger men.
  54.  
  55. Well, that was hardly a problem. I rose from my seat, swirling the golden drink around in its glass as he approached. Young bucks had vigour, older stags had experience. So long as they paid - and weren't complete wrecks - I could enjoy both.
  56.  
  57. "My lady," Sydil announced, stepping aside and gesturing to our guest, "may I present Ranald Kolson, clan-lord of the Erlen Rangers."
  58.  
  59. "Of Erlen forest, I take it?" My eyebrows shot up. "A pleasure. We've all heard stories of what goes on there."
  60.  
  61. Ranald chuckled. His voice was like velvet over steel, gentle but full of strength. "I imagine you have. Elves who cleave to the old ways, stealing children and luring the weak to their doom amidst the bows? Bloody bones and fetishes hanging from the trees? Perverse rites taking place beneath sour stars? The tales grow every stranger each time I have cause to come back to the cities."
  62.  
  63. "Well, that last one might not be so strange. Perverse rites are, after all, our stock in trade."
  64.  
  65. "Along with a rather fine mutton stew," he replied with a thin smile, tipping his head towards Gorrsa. "But on that topic, I do have a proposition to make. Is there..."
  66.  
  67. The man trailed off, glancing past me towards the stairs, then around at the alcoves lining the walls. Ah, I thought. First timer.
  68.  
  69. "Somewhere more private we can go? Certainly. If you'll just follow me?" I brushed past him without waiting for an answer, heading for one of the vacant alcoves. Curious eyes followed me around the ring. Already whispers would be spreading through the crowd; by the end of the night they would have blossomed into rumours, and by tomorrow they would have spread across the city, all talking about whether or nor the Second Circle's star attraction had returned to her old profession.
  70.  
  71. I had to fight to keep the smile off my face. My heart was already racing, the skin on my arms pimpling with excitement at the prospect of learning what Ranald had in store for me. Every hungry look I saw reflected back at me from the crowd only fired my imagination further. Every one of them would be wondering what they'd need to do, how much they'd need to pay, to buy my affections for a night. All that money so I would smile, part my legs, and whisper sweet words of encouragement as they poured themselves into me.
  72.  
  73. By the time the curtain was drawn and Ranald sat opposite me, I was already flushed enough to be thankful for the booth's comforting shadows. "So," I asked, settling down and running one of my feet up his leg. "Your proposition?"
  74.  
  75. "Yes. Ah." Ranald cleared his throat, a pinkish tinge coming over his pale features. "You know a little of the Erlen clans, I take it? The work we do to keep the woodsmen and deep elves from one another's throats?"
  76.  
  77. I nodded my head. "Well. One of my clan-clades recently returned a stolen elven bauble to its owner. Our good neighbors are...capricious and strange, at the best of times, and their reward was...substantial. My men wish to come to the city and celebrate."
  78.  
  79. He shifted in his seat. "Normally I would not encourage such things for fear of softening them, but on occasion it does the men good to enjoy a few days of debauchery. The neighbors have one less thing to tempt them with."
  80.  
  81. "Alright," I moved back, my high spirits punctured. "Well, if you give me a date and a number of heads I can find out how many of my girls will be available. Then we can talk prices, and - "
  82.  
  83. Ranald cut me off abruptly by pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and sliding it across the table. Printed on it in cheap, badly smudged black ink was a suggestively dressed (in truth, undressed would be more accurate) tiefling with an entirely familiar profile.
  84.  
  85. "Just as you hear stories of the Ereln, we hear stories of you," Ranald said. "We escorted a merchant through the forest some years back. He spoke very highly of the...ah, what were the words he used? 'Red-skinned she-devil, who took him with such hunger and enthusiasm that it seemed as though she should be the one paying him'. Or something to that effect. He left this behind."
  86.  
  87. I looked up from the leaflet, a broad, self-satisfied smile back on my face. We'd had hundreds of the flyers churned out shortly after the Second Circle went legit as advertisements. No-one at the time imagined they would find their way outside the city walls, but I had to admit, it was rather satisfying to see they had. It was certainly one in the eye for the sour-faced cow-botherers that said I'd never amount to anything as a kid.
  88.  
  89. "Well, that's certainly high praise." I leaned over the table, idly running a finger along the rim of my corset. The heat was rising in me, my skin starting to prickle with arousal, and the rigid bustier was already starting to feel uncomfortably confining, "So your men, they've been waiting for their chance ever since? They weren't satisfied with their own women?"
  90.  
  91. Ranald let out a great bark of laughter. "You've never met an Erlan woman, then. Hard and humourless and grim, the lot of them. No, they've had a hunger in them ever since, and now they have their chance. Only," he raised an eyebrow. "Word on the street is that you've retired from the profession?"
  92.  
  93. "I'm afraid it's true. Running the business simply takes up so much time these days, it's difficult to find a night I can devote to the more...ah, customer-focused elements. I'd have to bring in outside help to keep the place going, and it's hard to justify expense." I sighed sadly, pulling the curtain open a crack with my tail and peering wistfully out at the festivities beyond. Ranald nodded understandingly and opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could speak.
  94.  
  95. "Of course, for the right amount of compensation, I could be persuaded to take the night off. It would be such a shame to leave your men unfulfilled, after all." I let the words hang before adding lightly. "How many are there, out of curiosity?"
  96.  
  97. "Ten," Ranald replied. His voice carried a hint of trepidation that, really, wasn't called for in the slightest. If he thought that risked scaring me off then he obviously hadn't done his research; groups had been one of my specialties back in the good old days, and though I hadn't had the chance to indulge of late, they remained a prominent fantasy. I shifted in my seat, slowly growing aware of the slickness building between my legs.
  98.  
  99. "Mm. All young, I take it?" I raised an eyebrow, keeping my voice level, hiding my growing desire as best I could. "Reasonably fit?"
  100.  
  101. "Aye. The Erlen doesn't allow men to grow soft."
  102.  
  103. "Oh, I do hope not," I said with a coy wink. "So, let's see here. I need to cover the lost profits from taking the night off, and with such a large party, we'll require refreshments." Ranald watched me like a hawk as I stroked my narrow chin, making a show of working out the costs involved. "And ten heads, so - oh, wait, I used to offer a bit of a discount on groups, so we'll round things down..."
  104.  
  105. I drummed my fingers on the table. "Two hundred and fifty."
  106.  
  107. Ranald blinked. He hid his shock at the price reasonably well, it must be said.
  108.  
  109. "That much? Forgive me, but I was under the impression city girls were cheap."
  110.  
  111. I decided to let his casual insult pass. "Maybe your average dockyard tart, sir, but unless you want your men to come back ridden with venereal disease you'll stick to something a bit more upmarket. And I assure you, they don't come more upmarket than yours truly."
  112.  
  113. "Even so - "
  114.  
  115. I jumped in front of him again. "Why not ask your men? Tell them everything that merchant said about me is true. Tell them they aren't just buying a quick romp in an alley. They'll get me for the whole night. I'll take them as often as they can manage until the sun comes up." By now I was craning across the table, eyes aflame, voice thick with hunger. "Tell them they can have me in my own bed, sir, and in whatever fashion they like. I'm not the only tiefling girl in the city, but I promise you I'm the only one who'll do that."
  116.  
  117. That part was a lie, of course - the bit about taking them in my own bed. I still live in the small upstairs room I used before buying the Second Circle. But I kept a larger, more sumptuous bedroom on the second floor for entertaining clients in, and I'd found a lot of men got off at the idea they were fucking me in the same bed I slept in. Maybe it was the sense of intrusion, that they hadn't just bought their way into my body, but into my life, my private and personal spaces? Either way, it kept the come stains off my own sheets, so I wasn't complaining.
  118.  
  119. Ranald swallowed. His face was flushed pink and his forehead was clammy with sweat. I sat back, the brief, feverish outburst locked away under a veneer of professionalism once more.
  120.  
  121. "You tell them that, sir. And tell them I'll cut my price to two-twenty, just for them, because they've been waiting so very long and I'd hate to leave them disappointed."
  122.  
  123. "I - yes. Two hundred and twenty then. If they - if they accept, would three nights hence be acceptable?"
  124.  
  125. "Entirely." Sensing the negotiations were concluded, I rose and drew back the curtains, catching a brief glimpse of Sydil lurking nearby, waiting for news. "Send a messenger with their answer once they've decided. I'll begin making preparations here in the meantime." I smiled again, white fangs glinting behind red lips. "Since I rather expect they'll agree."
  126.  
  127. Ranald nodded and rose from the booth to leave. I had to fight down a grin as he passed. Despite his attempts at hiding it amidst the swirl of his robe, a rather pronounced lump had appeared in the man's breeches. A really rather pronounced one, I thought. I chewed my lip for a moment, toying with the idea that had crept into my mind. It was - well, exactly the sort of thing I'd stopped hooking for. But the man was clearly a newcomer to the city. Even if he did go telling tales, how much damage could he do?
  128.  
  129. Not that it was a particularly good excuse, but my blood was already up and, like I said, I've always been prone to impulsiveness.
  130.  
  131. "Oh, Ranald?" I called him back, smiling sweetly. "You aren't among those ten yourself, are you?"
  132.  
  133. He glanced around, seemingly uncomfortable outside the booth, and swept back. "No. A clan-lord must be held in utmost respect by his men. It would be unseemly to fraternise too closely with them."
  134.  
  135. Still smiling, I drew in close, slipping an arm around the man's waist. He stiffened in surprise but made no move to pull away as my other hand delved into his robe and gently caressed the wiry muscles and old scars beneath.
  136.  
  137. "Such a shame," I whispered. "You know, I think I'm going to take a break soon. In about five minutes. There's an alley behind the building. We'll have to be quick, but..."
  138.  
  139. My hand traveled south, cupping the swollen bulge in his trousers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Fifteen and I'm yours."
  140.  
  141. I disentangled myself from the man and stepped back before he could reply. Ranald blinked, the flabbergasted look still plastered to his face. It was even odds as to whether or not he showed up - as good as I am at reading people, the Erlen are reclusive and ill-socialised enough that it's hard to get a bead on how they'll react to anything. But I was certainly good for it if he did.
  142.  
  143. "Well then, I think our business is concluded," I announced with a brisk clap. "I'll bid you goodnight for now, sir, and await your answer in writing."
  144.  
  145. Ranald cleared his throat, bowed awkwardly and mumbled something I didn't quite catch before retreating back into the crowd. I watched him go with a faint smirk on my face, then leaned over to Sydil as she materialised once more by my side.
  146.  
  147. "Well?" She asked.
  148.  
  149. "Party of ten, three nights time." I stretched languidly. "Don't spread it around, hmm? I'm trying to keep this at least a little circumspect."
  150.  
  151. Sydil pulled a face. "Eesh. You're gonna be sore by the end of it."
  152.  
  153. "Probably. Can you hold fort here for a bit? I'm gonna take a break. Could do with some air."
  154.  
  155. She gave me a pointed look. "Uh-huh. Air. Sure, Ireela, sure."
  156.  
  157. ---
  158.  
  159. Ranald came, in the end. Of course he did.
  160.  
  161. He took me against the Second Circle's rear wall. The smooth, pearly elvenstone was warm to the touch, a curious property of the ancient magic that had raised the city thousands of years ago. I braced myself against it as he fucked me from behind, legs spread, skirt pushed up over my ass, underwear tugged down around my quivering calves. It was raw and spontaneous and delightfully sordid.
  162.  
  163. I've always been drawn to excess. That had frightened me in my youth - I found myself stumbling into situations I wasn't ready for and losing control or being taken advantage of. We're a...volatile people, tieflings, prone to strong emotions and violent impulses. Purebloods like Sydil have it the worst; apparently something in their nature causes their greatest accomplishments to always ring hollow. Even the purest ecstasy leaves them hauntingly unfulfilled.
  164.  
  165. Not so for me. Ranald's hands were like a vice around my slender hips, his thrusts strong but hasty and ill-timed. Not that it mattered. I was already soaring, my sex burning up with pleasure, the sheer, giddy joy of feeling a warm body pressing against my own more than enough to compensate for the man's lack of practice. We were half-hidden by the brothel's refuse pile, sat awaiting clearance by the city's spoilmen at the entrance to the alleyway, but anyone who caught a whisper of our muffled exertions wouldn't have to look hard to catch us.
  166.  
  167. The idea sent a hot pulse of desire racing through me, like sparks igniting in my blood. Perhaps a group of drunks might stumble upon the scene and, once Ranald was spent, step up to replace him. Or a night watchman, seeking brief a diversion from his rounds. I could take them one by one, against the wall like a common street-whore, collecting a handful of golden devotions from each before sending them on their way.
  168.  
  169. Ranald must have felt me clenching around him. He shifted his grip and I gasped sharply as he grabbed one of my horns and tugged my head sharply backwards.
  170.  
  171. "That's it," I hissed, groaning in pleasure. My back arched as he shifted inside me, the slight change of position bringing him into contact with one of my deepest, most sensitive spots. "Right there, right there - "
  172.  
  173. He came with a low grunt, tugging sharply on my horn and driving himself up to the hilt into my aching sex. Ranald kept thrusting even as he poured into me, filling the alley with soft, wet noises and sending sticky drips of seed trickling down my crimson thighs. My own climax followed quickly behind, and I had to bite my tail to choke down the throaty cry of ecstasy that threatened to give us away.
  174.  
  175. Ranald withdrew, souring my afterglow with the faint, hollow twinge that always came on when a man departed. I let out a heavy sigh and turned to face him, red-faced (well, redder than usual) and dripping strings of come down my legs. Somewhat awkwardly, without quite being able to meet my eye, the man pulled up his breeches and passed me a small, jingling purse. He looked quite embarrassed about the whole affair, which amused me to no end. The Erlen must have been a conservative people, and this probably represented a substantial break from the norm.
  176.  
  177. "There you go," I said, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "First-hand testimony. You can tell your people their money will be well-spent. Hell - "
  178.  
  179. I tugged my underwear off, rolled it into a ball and tossed it to him. "If they like mementos, give them that. Maybe it'll whet their appetites."
  180.  
  181. Ranald swallowed. For a moment I thought he was going to pass the dainty undergarments back, but he slipped them guiltily into his robes. "Be assured that I shall. Thank you, Ireela, that was an...ah, an unexpected but not entirely unwelcome diversion. I only hope my men won't prove too much to handle."
  182.  
  183. "Oh, it'll be fine. Now, you get off before anyone sees," I smiled slyly. "And if you're ever in the city again, I can always make time for a well-paying consultation."
  184.  
  185. He nodded stiffly and vanished into the night. I took another gulp of air, cleaned and rearranged myself as best I could, and walked back into the Circle.
  186.  
  187. Gods, I thought, they're really gonna have a lot to gossip about this time.
  188.  
  189. ---
  190.  
  191. I rose late the next day to find the Erlen's reply waiting for me with the rest of my mail. The message was simple, just two stiffly formal sentences indicating they accepted the offer and looked forward to meeting me. I read it three times anyway, savouring the giddy excitement which slowly took hold each time my eyes passed over the stiff paper. It seemed almost inappropriate for so simple a message to hold such illicit promise, that a score of words should set my blood aflame with desire. And yet they did, and I kept the message with me for the next three days, tucked into a pocket or the hem of my stockings to remind me of what was to come.
  192.  
  193. Though in truth I didn't need the reminder. There were preparations to make, and given most of the staff were at least somewhat in the dark about what was happening I had to be the one to make them. My guest room was aired out and the linin thoroughly washed to make sure no trace of the previous client remained, a list of refreshments drawn up and prepared, and a cover story concocted (the men were, I decided, there to speak with me about a find I'd made during my days as a freelance adventurer, which was about as paper-thin as they come but at least provided a layer of plausible deniability). The really tricky part was finding a replacement manager.
  194.  
  195. Cydil was too popular with the customers; she couldn't afford to take a night away from her clients to concentrate on running the Circle. Most of the other girls weren't educated enough to do the job well; they weren't stupid, but their parents hadn't been able to send them to school and they they had more important things to spend their coin on than learning for its own sake. In the end I settled for one of my male employees, a bastard noble son named Piotr. He had spent enough time among Swyndel's upper crust to pick up the basics of running a business and specialised in providing a 'boyfriend experience', so had certainly proven he had the necessary good graces as well.
  196.  
  197. Putting the circle in the hands of a man did make me feel odd. There's something of a line in Swyndel's sex industry; the proper brothels, which are more expensive and at least have pretensions of class if not the quality itself, are typically run by women. But the unfortunate dockyard girls are managed - if you can call it that - by men with no first-hand experience of the trade and are none too kind to their workers. It was only for one night, I told myself, and Piotr wasn't hurting for personal experience either. He'd be fine.
  198.  
  199. All of which left me to wallow through the usual nightly routines as I counted down to the big day. The staff certainly knew something was up; only the dullest would have failed to notice the sudden flurry of activity, and there was a salvo of good-natured jeers on the third day when I announced that I would be taking the night off. Piotr ushered them down to their places for opening, while I retreated upstairs to make final preparations.
  200.  
  201. The guest room had been laid out exactly to my specifications. A huge bed, large enough for three people lying side-by-side and smothered with silk and lace furnishings, dominated, itself orbited by scented candles and coloured lanterns waiting to be lit up like stars. The hardwood floor drowned beneath thick beast-pelts, some of which had been hunted down by yours truly, and the mismatched shelves, dressers and wardrobes sparkled beneath the little keepsakes and souvenirs which decorated them. A large mirror, placed along one wall where anyone on the bed might admire themselves, provided the finishing touch. Opulent without garish, sexually charged without being farcical. Perfect.
  202.  
  203. Too perfect, I thought. Nobody would look at it and think a person actually lived there. I fussed about, untugging sheets, rearranging ornaments and adding a few hastily concealed pairs of underwear to make it look sufficiently disorganised. A little scattering of dust on some of the higher shelves would have completed the illusion, but alas. I contented myself by clearing one of the dressers to serve as an impromptu table and hurrying through to the dressing room next door. Compared to the guest room it was a small, cramped affair, just large enough to hold a dresser, a small sink for washing and making contraceptive illithil tea, and a closet for clothes.
  204.  
  205. They didn't keep me waiting long. A commotion of tramping boots echoing up through the floorboards told me they had arrived (funny how you can always tell it's men; even female orcs don't make that much of a racket). The stairs creaked as they were shown through, one by one by one...
  206.  
  207. I counted them, silently, using the squeaky forth step to gauge one set of boots from another. All ten were present. And all of them for me.
  208.  
  209. Yes, technically, I was there for them. Bought and paid for. But that wasn't how it felt.
  210.  
  211. There was an eleventh squeak, and I heard Sydil's muffled voice through the wall.
  212.  
  213. "...getting ready, be with you soon...will bring food and drink up in a moment. Remember the house rules...joy yourselves."
  214.  
  215. Soon. I grunted and gave myself a mental slap, hurrying to finish the last of my preparations. I was already shaved, plucked, oiled and scented, and I stole a quick glance at myself in the mirror to ensure nothing had been missed. A finely-boned, narrow face looked back, black and gold eyes glittering like fool's gold against rich, red skin. My horns were almost horizontal, growing just shy of my hairline, with a backwards curve that practically begged to be held from behind.
  216.  
  217. I didn't need much makeup. A little colour around the eyes, some blusher to help emphasise the cheekbones, and perhaps a dark lipstick if I really want to push the succubus look, but I've got a good complexion and a lot of human powders don't really work on red skin.
  218.  
  219. And with that sorted, all that remained was to choose an outfit. I quickly discarded my everyday clothes and began sorting through the dresser for something to wear.
  220.  
  221. Now, a lot of whores put a great deal of faith in their outfits. Naturally they want to accentuate their best features and conceal their worst, but the manner of one's dress can significantly influence the manner of one's client. Long, fine robes might be attractive to a commoner who dreams of a night with nobility, while turning off a jaded nobleman who wants to go slumming, for example. Something tight and black draws in those who want to be dominated, lacy and white appeals to the domineering. And so on.
  222.  
  223. Personally I prefer to wear nothing at all.
  224.  
  225. There is, in my opinion, a power to nudity that all the expensive lace in the world cannot match. It implies total confidence, even a sort of arrogance, in one's appearance and the effect it has upon the onlooker. To greet a client naked shows you have no pretensions about what the transaction represents, no reservations about what he intends to do to you, no reluctance and certainly no shame. Jewellery is an acceptable way to complete the look; the body is decorated rather than clothed, each piece carefully selected to highlight and accentuate the wearer's sublime nakedness rather than distract from it.
  226.  
  227. So that was what I chose. After several minutes of searching fruitlessly for something which might appeal to ten very different men, I selected a harness of fine, gold chains which wrapped loosely around my slender torso and wove between my small breasts. A pair of matching chains circled my thighs and ankles, and two bands of gold were fastened halfway around each horn. Beyond that I was naked. My skin was already starting to flush a deep crimson, and the feather-light sensation of the chains pulling against my breasts had brought each nipple to a stiff, sensitive peak.
  228.  
  229. "Alright," I murmured. "Let's see how the boys are settling in."
  230.  
  231. The dressing room had been designed with a concealed peephole built into the connecting wall, and through it, I got my first look at the men who would soon be fucking me.
  232.  
  233. Ranald had lied. None of the men looked older than thirty. Most were lithe, strapping specimens, pale-skinned and dark haired like Ranald had been, and one even had a vague familial resemblance to his older clan-leader. Two were darker, almost bronzed; children stolen from the city-state of Astraeos by the elves and taken in by their Erlen rescuers I assumed. One of them was a real brute, half a head taller significantly more heavily-set than the rest; my heart almost skipped a beat at the thought of being pushed down and taken by whatever monster he was packing.
  234.  
  235. They chattered idly amongst themselves, occasionally shouting out an eager boast or bursting into a laughter at some whispered joke. Platters of cold meat, bread and cheese sat on the dresser I had cleared, along with flagons of wine. We'd all be needing some of that, I thought to myself; sex, especially the kind of prolonged group sex I would soon be enjoying, can really build an appetite.
  236.  
  237. Most had already started undressing, and a few were even completely naked; I noted with some amusement that the others avoided making eye contact with their bolder companions. All were marked with twisting, runic tattoos which wound back and forth along their bodies. If there was any significance to them it was lost on me, but following them across each pale, muscular torso and letting my imagination fill in the blanks where they vanished out of sight was certainly an appreciable diversion.
  238.  
  239. Finally I pulled myself away. It wouldn't do to keep them waiting too long, and the first, faint tingle of desire in my sex told me I was ready. I took a quick breath, finished my illithil and quietly pushed the door open.
  240.  
  241. The chatter died immediately. The Erlen turned as one, their eyes as wide as saucers. For a moment I just stood there, one hand on either side of the door frame with my tail flicking languidly back and forth, smiling indulgently as they drank in the sight of me. One of them, frozen in the act of removing his breeches, let his belt slip from his nerveless hands. The muted thud of the buckle against the fur carpet seemed deafening in the silence.
  242.  
  243. "Well, gentlemen, I do hope I live up to your expectations," I purred, stepping into the room. There were so many of them I could barely see the walls, just a rough semi-circle of toned bodies that slowly drew in tighter as I advanced. "Ranald told me you've been waiting for this for a long time, and tonight I mean to make sure every fantasy you've had, every dirty thought and lusty dream, comes true."
  244.  
  245. I paused by one of the men, running my finger along his sharp, stubbled jaw. He turned towards me and I planted a brief kiss upon his lips before moving on. The others whispered to one another, almost in disbelief, and for a moment I wondered just how terrifying Erlen women were that not one of their sheltered menfolk had eked up the courage to put a hand on me.
  246.  
  247. "Now, Ranald told me you were all new to this, so we'll go over the rules."
  248.  
  249. One of the bolder men, who had already stripped naked, finally laid a hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm, his hand calloused by years of hard work with a weapon, and I let out a soft gasp as he trailed down my back and sunk his fingers into my buttock. I pushed up against him in response, stroking his muscled chest and letting his cock rub against my hip. It was achingly hard, like a length of burning steel desperate to be quenched, and my stomach clenched eagerly at the thought of it being plunged deep into my core.
  250.  
  251. "I am yours until the sun comes up," I explained. "You can take me as often as you like, however you like, either one by one or in groups. As skilled as I am, handling ten of you at once might be...well, tricky."
  252.  
  253. There was a ripple of laughter at that. "I'm not fragile, so don't be afraid to get a little rough. But," I held up a finger. "No real pain. No abuse. Nothing which leaves a mark. There's oil in the drawer should things get a little tight, and rope under the bed if you'd like me restrained. Or if any of you would to be tied up instead."
  254.  
  255. That raised a few eyebrows. I didn't think there'd be any takers, but it didn't hurt to make the offer.
  256.  
  257. "You'll have seen the food and wine over there. I'd appreciate it if you left me some, and don't get too drunk, hmm?" I gripped the base of the Erlen's cock and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "I'd like to enjoy each and every one of these as often as I can. So!"
  258.  
  259. I stepped away from the man and brushed through the crowd, trailing my fingers across arms and flicking my tail along thighs, until I reached the bed. There I sat, legs parted just enough for them to see the glimmering wetness they were about to buy, idly playing with one of my nipples as they closed in tight around me.
  260.  
  261. "Once you've all paid, we can begin."
  262.  
  263. One by one they came forwards with their purses. I made a show of it, counting each one out, arranging the weighty gold coins in neat little piles and giving each man a wink or a blown kiss as his toll was paid. My excitement grew with each stack of coins that appeared on the dresser, and not just because more of the Erlen were taking the opportunity to undress. A peasant would be lucky to make two hundred in a year; even a wealthy tradesman might only see that much money in a month. And yet here I was earning it in a single night, bought by men so consumed by their desperate lust they would hand over a small fortune to buy a few scant hours of company.
  264.  
  265. It was enough to make my head spin. As the last pile was tallied up, I swept the lot into a drawer for safekeeping and pushed my thick, black hair back behind my head.
  266.  
  267. "Well then," I smiled encouragingly. "Who's first?"
  268.  
  269. "Don't you want to know our names," one of the Erlen, a gaunt man who's tattoos converged in a great X aross his chest, asked.
  270.  
  271. "Names? You're the men of Erlen, strong, fine-looking and brave," I replied. "What else needs to be said?"
  272.  
  273. The group stirred, urgent whispers shooting from man to man. Their eyes lit up like torches, and broad, hungry smiles spread across each of their pale faces. At last, they seemed to truly understand the nature of their transaction. They didn't need to introduce themselves. There were no names or formalities here. Just gold and the willingness it had bought.
  274.  
  275. Then they descended. I let out a wild shriek of laughter as they bundled me into the middle of the bed, a sudden forest of hands and cocks jabbing at me from all directions. Strong fingers dug into my small, pert breasts and tweaked my nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds until I cried out in pleasure. I felt my legs parted, my flushed and dripping folds bared up for their inspection, eager for the soothing touch of a man's tongue.
  276.  
  277. A pillow was pushed under my back, propping me up as the first pair of stiff manhoods materialised next to my face. Hands ran through my hair, stroking my horns, coaxing me to look this way or that. Soft fingers wrapped around each, gently pulling the two men closer; I took the first into my mouth without hesitation, wrapping my lips around his shaft and swirling my tongue in a tight spiral around the head. The taste of it was like a drug; salt and sweat, a hint of bitterness and the musky scent of his body pushing up against my face.
  278.  
  279. We moaned in unison, my own desire a clear match for his own, before pulling off and treating his partner to the same. Others were pushing for a space around my head; it was hard to tell how many but I worked them as best I could, giving each prick a deep, luxurious suck while my hands danced between those still waiting. The scent of them was overwhelming. It filled the air like a cloud of incense, drowning me in the closeness of their bodies, the overwhelming force of their lust for me. My head spun. My heart throbbed fit to burst.
  280.  
  281. The first touch upon my sex was like lightning; I jumped and squealed, almost biting down on the man currently enjoying my mouth. Someone had pushed a finger into me and was slowly, almost curiously, exploring along my walls, squirming and rubbing in a way which was - probably quite unintentionally - wholly delightful.
  282.  
  283. "Another," I called out. "Put another one in me."
  284.  
  285. The gentle pressure doubled and I rolled my hips forwards with a satisfied groan, riding the man's fingers as they pushed deeper into me. I hardly needed the help in getting wet at this point, but it served as a wonderful, teasing appetiser for what was to come. Others stroked my thighs, encouraging me to spread my legs wider. My sex burned with desire, brief tremours echoing through me as those fingers twisted and stroked; the appreciative whispers about how tight and eager I was only fueling my rampant arousal.
  286.  
  287. Distantly, I wondered which of them would be the first to fuck me; the youngest of them, there, with the long braid trailing over his shoulder? The dark-skinned Astraean, eager to prove himself the equal of his foster-brothers? Would they take me as I am, lying on my back with my legs spread eagerly, or flipped onto all fours like an animal?
  288.  
  289. One of the men let out a deep moan, loud enough to stir me from my fantasies. His head was rolled back, his lithe chest panting with exertion, beads of sweat crawling down his inked torso like rain. He was close to his peak; I could feel him straining against me, bulging between my lips, desperate for release. Pushing the other men away I hauled myself up and wrapped my hands around his waist, gazing up at the pale, beautiful expanse of his chest and sucking all the harder.
  290.  
  291. He came with a strangled cry, grabbing my horns and locking my head in position as he poured himself copiously into my mouth. I held him there until the last twitch subsided, thirstily swallowing spurt after spurt of his come like a drunkard at the keg. His companions clapped and cheered us on, watching in delight as my eyes rolled back in pleasure and hips rolled in time with the questing fingers buried within them. At last he withdrew, leaving a handful of fat, white pearls on my chin as he staggered aside to catch his breath. I wiped them away on my forefinger and sucked it clean with a wet smack.
  292.  
  293. "Good job, Kolson," one of the Erlen cackled. "We didn't think you would last that long. We'll see if you can match that once you get a go between her legs, eh?"
  294.  
  295. I glanced up at the speaker, a broad-shouldered man with an array of interesting piercings. "First-timer?"
  296.  
  297. "Oh yeah. Alem and I had a bet going whether he'd be able manage thirty seconds."
  298.  
  299. One of the Astraeans bowed gracefully. "Your estimation of the boy was greater than my own, Reeve, I admit. But might I suggest you save your gloating for later? It would be rude, I think, to keep the lady waiting." He looked down at me, blue eyes twinkling. "Especially since she seems so very eager to proceed."
  300.  
  301. "You're telling me," I groaned. The fingers were gone now, and as good a job as they'd done I was desperate for the real thing. "Any time you guys want to start fucking me proper, that'd be great."
  302.  
  303. There was a moment of silence as the realities of ten men all sharing a single woman began to dawn upon the Erlen. Then the arguments started breaking out. It was, I would later admit to myself, actually quite funny to watch them bicker over who got the honour of having me first. Not to mention rather complimentary; show me a woman who doesn't feel a bit smug at the sight of men fighting over her attentions and I'll show you a liar or a nun. But at the time, with the familiar, hollow ache that always came when my desires are left unfulfilled building in my core, it was an entirely frustrating experience.
  304.  
  305. Eventually one of the younger men who had been floating around the periphery of the arguments broke away from his peers and began to move towards me. I shuffled up the bed and beckoned him closer, running my hands over his toned body as he joined me atop the crumpled sheets.
  306.  
  307. "How do you want me?" I hissed. He stroked my flanks, anxiously shooting a glance back over his shoulder until I gently pulled his head back towards me. "It's okay. Let them argue if they want, it's their time they're wasting."
  308.  
  309. "Um. This - like this is fine. I want to be able to look at you. Is kissing okay?" He slipped between my legs, gently lifting my hips and pulling himself closer. "I heard that some - um, some girls don't do that sort of thing with men who pay them."
  310.  
  311. The tip of his cock brushed against my sex, and I bit down my squeal of excitement by leaning up and kissing him softly on the lips. He reciprocated beautifully, our tongues dancing as he lowered me back onto the bed and eased into my slick, aching passage. The Erlen let out a soft whimper as my heat closed around his length. I chuckled softly into his mouth and murmured my approval as he began to thrust.
  312.  
  313. "That's it, that's right. Come on, let's show the rest of them how it's done."
  314.  
  315. Strong arms wrapped around my slender torso, crushing me against his chest and pushing me down into the sheets with every firm thrust. He was a real lover, this one - you get them occasionally, men who want to do right by a lady even if she's whoring herself to him for money. He savoured each movement, slow but forceful, feathering my neck with kisses and gentle bites. The feeling was divine, like being rocked in a swing; a vital throb of pleasure deep in my core as he bottomed out, melting into a long, tantalising build-up as he slowly withdrew for another thrust.
  316.  
  317. It would have been rude not to reciprocate. My legs were tight against his flanks, clinging desperately as I moved in time, grinding against the Erlen's root each time he drove into my core. I stroked his back and let my fingers play across his ribs, whispering breathless encouragement into his ear as he fucked me. The room had fallen silent by now, and I knew the others had finally noticed what was going on. It was impossible not to grin to myself as I rode each wave of coruscating pleasure, easily imagining the hungry eyes that were watching. The others would be even more wound up now, desperate to outdo the quiet man who had claimed me first.
  318.  
  319. I could hardly wait.
  320.  
  321. The Erlen lifted himself off me a fraction, enough so that he could look me in the eye. My hair had fallen out of place, tangling with my chains and dragging in teasing locks across each small breast. I could see the question in the man's face. More to the point, I could feel it throbbing between my legs, his need to climax as clear as the inky tattoos around his biceps.
  322.  
  323. "It's okay. Plenty of time for me later on tonight," I said, gently stroking his arms. My own climax was still a way off, but the Erlen's gentle, passionate lovemaking had set every inch of me thrumming with arousal, and I had little doubt his companions could tip me over the edge. "Do it. Come. Come for me, nice and deep, as much as you can. I want to feel it."
  324.  
  325. I leaned up and we kissed again. He came just as my teeth nipped his bottom lip - he murmured something that might have been a warning and I pulled him tight, locking my legs against his hips and clenching down hard upon his length as he began to tremble and spurt inside me. There was a faint, liquid pressure and a bloom of warmth that lasted for several seconds, and then he was done. The Erlen murmured a brief thank you, I relaxed my legs, then he withdrew with a soft sucking noise and was gone.
  326.  
  327. "Well?" I asked, looking over the others with a raised eyebrow. A thick trail of come oozed from between my lips, shining brilliant white against crimson skin. I trailed a finger through the stuff, bringing it to my mouth with a soft sound of approval. "Don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?"
  328.  
  329. The Erlen looked at each other. Even young Kolson seemed to have recovered enough of his stamina. Then the first man stepped up. And the next. And the next...
  330.  
  331. They started off by taking turns. That sort of thing had sat poorly with me when I started selling myself; it felt strangely impersonal, this machine-like parade of men stepping up to fuck me one at a time. It perhaps didn't help that I'd been considerably less experienced the first time it happened, leading into one of those unfortunate losses of control I mentioned earlier.
  332.  
  333. Now, though, I'd grown to quite enjoy it. It gives you the chance to experience each man on his own, to get a feel for what he likes, to explore the unique shape and feel of his body atop or beneath you. And there's nothing like the sight of so very many men lurking in the periphery of one's vision, all painfully hard and eager for their turn, to excite the senses and prepare one for a long night of sex.
  334.  
  335. Some took me as I was, lying on my back with my legs spread wide. Others took me on hands and knees, tugging back on my horns as they rode my like a prize pony, or spooning from behind while I lay on my side. That in particular was a lot of fun - my partner of the moment held me tight against him, one leg raised high in the air to give him access. It had the effect of putting me entirely on display - every inch of my toned, sweat-slick body was visible from the front, and the Erlen, who normally waited around the edges of the room for their turn, gathered in close to watch as their companion rutted me senseless.
  336.  
  337. That was my first climax of the night, incidentally. Very little gets me off harder than an audience - I can't resist showboating, and before long I was rubbing my clit with one hand and massaging my breasts with the other, moaning eagerly as I bucked and shuddered beneath nine hungry gazes and one thick cock. I came without restraint, throwing my head back and thrusting my hips out, all but demanding their attention as I twitched and clenched and screamed in ecstasy. They were good enough to let me enjoy a few moments of afterglow before the next man rolled me over and took his place in my slick passage.
  338.  
  339. The big Astraean took his turn last. By now the men who had finished first were recovered enough to come back for another go, and they didn't bother waiting this time. I barely noticed them at first, too enraptured with the huge, bronze-skinned man slowly rubbing the fat head of his cock through the creamy mess clinging to my sex to pay much attention to the others who circled my head like sharks. It was only when that big, blunt thing slipped a few inches lower and began pressing against my ass that I rolled my head back and found three more pale shafts jutting impatiently towards me. And then there were hands on my horns and in my hair, stroking my chin and my slender neck, and a cock which still carried the tang of my own juices slipping between my lips.
  340.  
  341. The Astraean was huge. He took me on my back, with my legs slung around his shoulders and my tail thumping anxiously against the bed as he slowly eased his way into my behind. Now, while I've been with plenty of big guys, this one was as about as big as they got for a human. Thankfully he was well-lubricated, the trails of semen spilling from my overflowing sex mixing with the oil lathered across his shaft, and I'd had plenty of practice over the years. The jolt of pain as he breached my defenses came as no surprise. Neither did the dull, pulsating feeling as he crept deeper, filling and stretching, smothering me under a blanket of dizzying sensation.
  342.  
  343. I barely noticed when his hips brushed mine, nor when he drew back a little. His first thrust certainly woke me up, however; the force of it almost jerked me off the bed, my sudden scream muffled only by the second cock in my mouth. Only years of experience - and the heady, searing pleasure spreading through my gut - stopped me clenching down in an instinctive attempt to force him out. I felt swollen, bloated in the most divine way possible, every inch of me made hollow and filled up with him. It left me weak and trembling, almost demure; I obediently sucked and licked whatever the other men presented me, working them with my hands, letting the most desperate of them rub their organs across my horns or into my hair. Some of them climaxed, though how many I couldn't be sure; but every so often there would come the glutinous splash of seed across my face or bust, a gift of pearls to sit alongside the gold.
  344.  
  345. All the while the big man fucked me, slow and relentless. One thick thumb rubbed circles around my clit, teasing the tiny bud until it sang with a high, clear note against the vast feeling of him buried in my rear. It left me helpless to resist, struck dumb by the clashing riot of sensations that crackled back and forth along my straining nerves. This was another truism about life as a whore; sometimes you'll get a man who cares nothing for what you have to say nor has any interest in seeing some grand fantasy played out. All he wants is to use you. Fuck you. If you're lucky his ego won't let him leave without making sure you get off as well, but it's never his first priority.
  346.  
  347. I made peace with that and contented myself with the sounds of pleasure that came from his adoptive brothers, letting their low chorus of sighs and groans ease the burning ache the Astraean left with each thrust. Relief only came when I finally climaxed; it was small, easily lost amidst the crushing weight that bore down upon me, but the Astraean must have felt he clench and shudder inside. He muttered "ah, there you are," under his breath, and a few heavy heartbeats later shot his first rope of come deep into my bowels. I felt it seeping and spreading through me, liquid-hot around the swollen throb of his cock before he pulled out and triumphantly ejaculated the rest across my midriff.
  348.  
  349. There was no way I could continue after that; not immediately, at least. My limbs were starting to ache with cramp and there was a sickly, overstimulated feeling in my loins. I shot the remaining men around my head a pained expression and waved them away, then hauled myself up into a sitting position to catch my breath.
  350.  
  351. "Wine," I gasped, gesturing towards the refreshment table. "And something to eat. Gods, man, where did you find that thing? Was your father a minotaur?"
  352.  
  353. The last comment was directed towards the Astraean. He laughed, low and deep, stepping aside with a surprising amount of grace as one of the Erlen hurried over with a flagon and a plate of cold meat and bread.
  354.  
  355. "No, but perhaps he was blessed by one. You handled me well though. I've met very few non-Astraean women who can go a night with me without complaint."
  356.  
  357. "Well, yeah," I replied. "I've had bigger. Just not in the ass."
  358.  
  359. "Then tonight is a first for you as well as us then, eh?" He laughed and raised his flagon in salute. I mirrored the gesture and drank, washing my throat clean and settling back to let the alcohol do its rejuvenating work.
  360.  
  361. Semen ran in thick rivulets down my body, slithering along long limbs and between tight muscles as it made its way towards the rumpled bedsheets. I wiped a few offending patches away from my eyes and left the rest where it was while I ate. Soon enough it would start to go cold and slippery, then be smeared away when the festivities resumed. But now I wore the stuff like a chestful of medals, taking quiet pride in each of the thick streaks that clung to my skin. They were gifts and rewards all in one, each a sign of the pleasure I had bestowed upon the man who had left it there.
  362.  
  363. I shot the Astraean a sideways look, absentmindedly drawing my fingers through the mess he had left across my tight belly. He really had come a great deal.
  364.  
  365. "The next time you're ready to come," I remarked, my voice light and casual. "I want it on my face. Every drop of it."
  366.  
  367. "You really enjoy that sort of thing?" One of the Erlen asked.
  368.  
  369. I nodded. "Always have. I take it Erlen women don't?"
  370.  
  371. "Not from us, at least," the boy, Kolson, said. "They live apart and spend all their time communing with the beasts of the wood. We barely see our women unless one of them divines the need for a child. That's why we came here." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "A lot of Erlen don't get opportunities like this. It's really, um, good you could make time for us, miss Ireela."
  372.  
  373. "Oh, thank you! That's sweet. You know, you wouldn't believe the number of men who just dropped their money off and left when they were finished. Not a word of thanks."
  374.  
  375. I stretched, shaking the cramp out of my limbs. The Erlen were sprawled around the room, sitting on the furniture or leaning against the walls, chatting excitedly with one another or watching the night-time traffic going past outside the window as they refreshed themselves. Kolson could barely take his eyes off me, and I gestured for him to join me on the bed.
  376.  
  377. "What do these tattoos mean?" I asked, rolling the young man onto his back and tracing one down his sinewy torso. "You've all got them, but they're all different. They don't look tribal either."
  378.  
  379. "They're - they're waymarkings. They let us move like the el - the good neighbors do, down spirit roads between the trees. That's how we're able to move through Erlen forest so quickly."
  380.  
  381. The sickly feeling in my loins had faded. I bent closer and ran my tongue along one of the winding black markings, following it across the Erlen's chest. True enough, it looked more like a brand than a tattoo, or perhaps like something that had been painted upon the skin rather than etched beneath it. My curiosity was sated in any case, and I decided it was high time to get back to work sating something else.
  382.  
  383. He shuddered as I took his nipple into my mouth and rolled it between my teeth, and I felt his organ stirring into hardness against my thigh. It pressed into me, hot and insistent. If Kolson had paid for me alone, I thought, it might have been fun to tease him a bit; push him down, lick over every inch of his body, let his climax build and recede until finally pushing him over the edge. Maybe towards the end of the night, I decided, once some of the other men had gotten too tired and sore to continue. For now, as the rest of the Erlen stirred themselves and began to drift closer, I had work to do.
  384.  
  385. They'd lost their wariness now, and there was no longer any reluctance to take me in groups. No sooner had I straddled Kolson than another cock began to push against my rear. I moaned happily as it slid into place, pinning me deliciously between the two men, their heartbeats thudding in time with my own. Kolson cupped my breasts, rolling each tender handful of flesh back and forth as his companion hugged me close around the midriff. Each point of contact was a blessing, sending tiny, electric thrills along my straining body as they began to thrust in unison.
  386.  
  387. "That's it, just like that," I whispered, then raised my voice to the rest of the room. "Come on, the rest of you get in nice and close. Don't be shy."
  388.  
  389. And then they were - everywhere, touching, teasing, stroking as the two men fucked me from behind and below. The world shrunk to nothing, just the heaving mass of pale, sweat-slick bodies that surrounded me, the heavy scent of sex in the air, and the stunning one-two, one-two jolts of ecstasy which reverberated back and forth through my slender form. The big Astraean had dulled my passions for a while, but even his massive battering ram of an organ had failed to still them completely. They burned brighter with every passing moment, every gasp and moan fueling the churning ache in my core.
  390.  
  391. Before long I was grinding down on them, sliding my hips back and forth in time with their thrusts, hungry for every inch I could take. My hands roamed, fingers webbed with glistening streaks of spittle and precome, stroking and jerking the seemingly endless profusion of maleness that surrounded me. One man blended flawlessly into the next. It was impossible to tell them apart, let alone give each more an a few moments of attention before being pulled towards the next urgent length.
  392.  
  393. They were drunk; not on the wine, though that doubtlessly played a part, but on me. I was like a drug to them, dangerous and addictive, someone who represented the very antithesis of their rigid and disciplined homeland. The thought made my head spin, even amidst the roiling waves of sensation, and I couldn't help but grin madly and shout encouragement as they indulged themselves.
  394.  
  395. The man in my rear came; Kolson followed shortly afterwards. The world flipped over as I was plucked from the bed and dropped onto the floor. Good idea, I remember thinking; there was more space there, and softness of the bed robbed something from each thrust. The last of my own restraint had slipped away somewhere in the press of bodies, leaving nothing but the mad spasms of hunger all too common to tieflings in control. I wanted everything they could give and more; to feel their lust and taste their arousal just as I could feel their bodies and taste their seed upon my lips.
  396.  
  397. It was hard to tell, from that point, who was fucking who. There were times where I snapped and growled like a wildcat, demanding more, harder, deeper, sinking my teeth into their shoulders and dragging my nails down their backs as they fruitlessly sought to quell the endless craving that coiled in my gut. I would walk amongst the Erlen like a cruel red goddess, taking them in ones and twos and allowing those who most pleased me to empty themselves across my slender body in tribute.
  398.  
  399. But there were times where I simply surrendered myself, relinquishing any hope of control and allowing them to claim me in whichever way they chose. They found the ropes under the bed and put them to enthusiastic, if inexpert, use; for a time I was tied to the bed, spreadeagled and helpless. They took me in quick succession, ten thrusts each before moving on, competing to see who could make me writhe and scream the loudest. When they felt the need to rest, they bound my legs together and my hands behind my back, one rope stretched deliciously across my dripping sex as I pleasured them unselfishly with my mouth.
  400.  
  401. And I came. Oh, yes. For a time, especially during my more dominant moments, I tried to keep track of my climaxes, noting each down in the back of my mind along with how and who it had come from. That didn't last. Before long they were blending together, the high from one orgasm carrying me along into the buildup to the next. I knew, consciously, I would be sick afterwards, tired and sore and overstimulated to the point of barely being able to get out of bed. But I didn't care. The fiendish aspect of me wouldn't allow any thought of rest or recuperation. Like Sydil and her pureblooded kin, it simply demanded more.
  402.  
  403. Yet slowly, one by one, the Erlen began to exhaust themselves. It was hard to notice at first; the difference between nine and ten men in this sort of situation is pretty small, especially when you're riding high on a current of instinct and arousal. But as the hours wore on I began to realise there were less men fighting for my hands and my mouth, and that I was increasingly only being fucked by one man at a time. Some were still watching and occasionally calling out encouragement, but others had given up entirely and collapsed onto the bed or across the carpets in a stupor.
  404.  
  405. Not that I could blame them, I suppose. Time was getting on. The Erlen had purchased me until dawn and by my reckoning, that couldn't be far off. As their numbers thinned, the sexual frenzy that had descended upon me started to clear. I could feel the first queasy pangs fighting to be recognised through the haze of arousal and knew I wouldn't be able to keep going much long either. At that point I was sat atop a dresser next to the window, my legs parted and back pressed against the wall. The big Astraean must have been good to his word before passing out in the corner because my face was absolutely thick with warm seed; it clotted in my hair and dripped down my nose in long, glutinous strings. The rest of me wasn't in much better condition.
  406.  
  407. There were four men left standing. I couldn't remember their names, or if they had even given me their names. One of them was hard at work between my legs, his thrusts slow and rhythmic, eyes drooping with exhaustion. I leaned over and peeked through the curtains while he did his thing. There was a faint glow on the horizon, tinting Swyndel's skyline with the first drop of pink.
  408.  
  409. "Alright boys, last call," I sighed, surprised at how tired I sounded. "Dawn's coming soon, so you get one more go each and that'll be us."
  410.  
  411. There was a mumble of assent. It didn't sound like the other three were in much better condition. I stretched as best I could atop the dresser and leaned back, closing my eyes and draping my arms around the man fucking me, content to slip into a pleasurable half-doze as he finished getting his money's worth. The dresser creaked and thumped in time with his thrusts and the slow, tired beat of my heart. He tensed, came, withdrew and was replaced by another. One down, I thought distantly; three left.
  412.  
  413. I could feel one final orgasm building; a small thing, almost lost amidst the great weariness settling upon me and the sickly feeling of over-stimulation in my loins, but no less welcome for it. I did all I could to focus on it, the warm, growing sensation driving back the fog of sleep just a little longer. Soft, rhythmic moans, almost pants, filled the air. The second man finished, pulling out of the slick mess between my lips and ejaculating across my stomach. And then a moment of tension as the third pushed back into my rear, his thumb rubbing circles around my clit that lit bright sparks amidst the slowly growing pressure. He kept me like that for some time before finishing and then he, too, was gone, to start rousing the others.
  414.  
  415. Appropriately enough, I came on the fourth. It happened just as he entered me; there was a feeling of release, like something inside me bursting, and a short, sharp wave of pleasure washed through my tired body. I opened my drooping eyes and mouthed a silent 'thank you' as the last of the Erlen took what he'd paid for, holding me against the wall and pouring his last few spurts of come into my stinging, tired sex.
  416.  
  417. And that was that. He pulled out with a groan, leaving me balanced precariously atop the dresser, which by now had a rather large, sticky trail oozing down its front. I tried to hop off it, thinking I'd act the hard woman by making some flippant comment and strutting into the bathroom to wash myself off, but my legs and tongue failed spectacularly at the last moment and I collapsed face-first into the carpet with an incoherent mumbling noise. The last thing I felt before losing consciousness and drifting off into the blessed land of sleep was two of the Erlen gently picking me up and placing me back atop the bed, where it had all started.
  418.  
  419. ---
  420.  
  421. They could have robbed me, I realised afterwards; there would have been nothing stopping them taking their money back out of the drawer as they left. Thankfully it seems Erlen Forest breeds men of good moral standing, because when I finally awoke ten hours later, I found each purse exactly where I had left it.
  422.  
  423. The money was about the only thing still where it should be. The room had been trashed; it looked like some of the Erlen had made an effort to replace some of the fallen ornaments but everything else bar the heavy furniture had been toppled, dismantled, or befouled. The incense candles had been snapped (one of them was sticky at the blunt end, which gave me a dire idea of what it had been used for), the sheets and rugs crumpled and stained, the mirror dragged out of place and abandoned in the middle of the floor.
  424.  
  425. Nothing seemed broken, fortunately; or at least, nothing was broken beyond my ability to fix. I wasn't in much of a better state. My first, experimental movements triggered a flurry of sharp cramps and head-to-toe aches, the combined effect of which was enough to lay me out for a good few minutes until the worst had subsided. My hair lay in a matted ruin around my horns like a gorgon's tendrils and I was still covered in dried sweat and come, which by this point had lost entirely all of its appeal and was now just gross. At length I dragged myself up from the bed and wrapped a sheet around myself. Grimacing as my muscles squealed in protest, I crept back to my proper room and ran a hot bath.
  426.  
  427. It was there, my mind drifting as the searing water soaked into my tired limbs, that I decided my 'no clients' rule was getting taken out the back and murdered for good.
  428.  
  429. Because fuck it, I felt great. I was sore and exhausted and the bills for having my dummy room cleaned and re-dressed would eat up a good chunk of what I'd just made, but I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so wholly and utterly fulfilled. Sexually, yes, but it went deeper than that. Sydil had joked about me being born for this life, but the more I thought about it, the more right she seemed. Certainly nothing else granted the same measure of peace and satiation that I felt at that moment; the fiendish passions which sang through my blood were silent, sleeping contentedly until something roused them again.
  430.  
  431. A knock on the door roused me from my thoughts. I grunted and mumbled "Who'sit?"
  432.  
  433. "It's me, you trollop," Sydil called. I mumbled something under my breath. Speak of devils, as they say.
  434.  
  435. "C'm in."
  436.  
  437. The door creaked open. Sydil leaned against the frame, an arch look on her face.
  438.  
  439. "Feeling better, I take it? Pockets a bit fuller?"
  440.  
  441. "Yeah, why? Jealous?" I yawned and stretched, rubbing my fingers through my hair. "How'd things go last night?"
  442.  
  443. "Piotr managed things fine. There was a bit of an upset when Charlene's man lost the keys to her restraints. She started yelling loud enough to bring the house down. I'd say it's a surprise you didn't hear, but it seemed like you were doing your best to outmatch her."
  444.  
  445. I winced. "That loud, huh?"
  446.  
  447. "Yee-ah. They didn't give you any trouble, did they?" Sydil's expression softened a little. "Ten guys at once is a bit much, even for you."
  448.  
  449. "Nah, it was fine. They took a while to really warm up, that's all. Country boys, what do you expect? One of them was raw, and the rest probably hadn't been with a woman more than once or twice in their lives from way they spoke."
  450.  
  451. Sydil laughed. "Yeah, you should have seen them all downstairs. Didn't know where to put their eyes."
  452.  
  453. "They worked out where to put the bits that mattered quickly enough, that's for sure. Y'think any of them will be back?"
  454.  
  455. "Doubt it," Sydil shrugged. "Not for a long time, at least. From what I hear of the Erlen, their clan elders will be stamping them back onto the righteous path after their big night of freedom. Shame, really, a couple of them were pretty cute."
  456.  
  457. She gave me another look. "And what about you? Back to work again tonight?"
  458.  
  459. I nodded, a sly smile creeping across my face. "For a few nights at least. Long enough for a few stories to spread. Then I'm going to start printing some more posters. I think it's about time I made my big comeback."
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