Warm sunlight breaks through from the balcony as I lay in the arms of a man with pure golden hair and eyes as blue as the sky. He holds me with tender care, nuzzling my bare neck. I smile with pure happiness. His hardness presses up against me and I wiggle my hips against him, but we’re interrupted as children rush in. Our children. I quickly pull the blankets over us to cover ourselves as our children convince us to get out of bed for the day. My husband sighs with a hint of frustration, but I can tell deep down he’s never been happier. He convinces them to go hide and he’ll come out and find them. They rush out in glee before my devilish husband puts me on my back with a grin brighter than the sun.
“You are so bad,” I say as I drag my hand down his perfectly sculpted chest. He grabs my legs and lifts them on top of his shoulders before…
I shoot up from my cot and groan as I realize it was all just a dream. That man… he feels so familiar, but I’ve never met him before. The golden-haired mysterious man of my dreams. Perfect in nearly every way. A man I feel like I’ve known my whole life and yet, he only exists in my dreams.
Work at the Brothel isn’t easy. I’m expected to get them as drunk as possible so they spend as much coin as possible, but the drunker a man gets the more handsy and pig-headed he is. I feel so disgusted every night after work. I have to take a bath just to wash the stain of their eyes off me. Not only that, but I’m constantly pushed and pressured to be one of Madame Faralene’s women of pleasure. To sell the pleasure of my body to these perverted men. There is no way in all the hells I would ever do that.
To make things even more difficult, I have seemed to get off on the wrong side of one of Madame Faralene’s best “workers,” if you can call what she does as work. Zaralraden, a golden-haired, blue-eyed falcon of a woman, seems to dislike me. She goes out of her way to get under my skin. The other day she hip-bumped me, causing me to nearly spill all of my drinks. Of course, I may have used a little of this magic I secretly learned to prevent losing the drinks. I think I may have angered her when I laughed, hearing her complain about her holy client. A High Father or whatever. The way she described him was rather funny, but it’s clear she despises the man and the things she says he’s making her do cause me to shudder. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that these holy men of the church or whatever are here tossing coin around to satiate their unholy desires. Hypocrites, all of them. It is why I will never trust the religious type.
But even so, Zaralraden is the worst kind of evil. The conniving, spiteful kind. If she wasn’t bad enough, the attention I get from men is not the welcomed kind. I’m not talking about just the stares they give me, but the things they say to me are absolutely disgusting. I thought Phraan was bad. He definitely is bad, but some of these men can give him a run for his coin. Some of the things they say they want to do to me makes me want to take a bath and wash the filth of their words off my skin. Part of me is afraid Madame will try to convince me to take up one of their offers. As if I would ever consider it, but I’ve heard things from the other girls. A lot of girls start out like me, but no one stays a barmaid. Soon, an offer will be made that is too tempting to decline.
Still, there is no way in hell I will ever consider doing anything with these pricks. I’d rather starve. Hell, even joining the church would be better. I will keep my dignity and that is that.
“Hey, new girl… I need a refill!” one particularly disgusting man says. His ears are pierced all the way up to the point and he’s got a gut that can’t be contained by any shirt. I reluctantly bring over a pitcher of ale and take his cup. But when I feel his hand crawl up my leg, I can’t take it. I grab the mug and wash his face with the ale. “You filthy bitch!”
He immediately flings the chair back as he gets to his feet and grabs me by the hair, but his hand is caught before it strikes by the bouncer, a rather large beefy man with dark skin and black hair named Janyris. “Don’t touch the girls.”
He lets go of my hair and yanks his hand free only when Janyris lets go. “Get a hold of your women.”
I quickly walk away, but not before Madame has a word. “Lura, what do you think you’re doing?”
“He grabbed my arse,” I say.
“And your point? You do realize this is a brothel, right?” she says, hand on hip with the other pointing a finger at me. “The men who come in here will get handsy. Can you handle that, or will I have to find someone else who can? Need I remind you that I saved you from those men on the street? I can just as easily put you back on those streets for all the men to have at you.”
I hold my tongue in fear she’ll do just that. I need to get out of this place. I have to find out who bought my parents, along with my uncle and his crew. I will set them free one way or another. “Good, now get back to work.”
She storms off and Zaralraden snickers. “Be a good girl, you stupid sewage rat.”
I hate that woman!
—
I’ve worked long enough at the brothel to earn some pocket coin. I’d have more if I didn’t have to pay such high rent to Madame for room and board. Just for a room I have to share with seven other girls. Fortunately, none of them are like Zaralraden. Nambra, a blonde-haired elf is rather nice and polite. Alisenda, a taller brunette who’ll take no nonsense. Her daughter, Caeninita, who’s rather shy. Maenirin, a red-haired girl with pale skin who has a loud mouth. Maenalasa, a beautiful brunette with the charm of one of the best of merchants. She has men wrapped around her finger. Gisrae, who’s aggressive and can be rather violent. Men who cross her learn the hard way that she can give as good as she takes. And lastly, a woman I’ve become rather close with named Tyma. She’s a dark-skinned woman with dim blue eyes, which means she doesn’t have an ounce of magic in her. Her hair is black, but she tends to wear golden wigs to attract men’s attention. We share a bunk and she’s easy to get along with. She’s really taken me under her wing.
We spend quite a bit of time together whenever we’re able to. She seems to know the ins and outs of not just the Brothel, but Low Town itself, and it seems like she’s got friends everywhere. I’m always following her around town during our off time and meeting new people. It doesn’t hurt that she’s one of Madame’s best girls, rather tied with Zaralraden. It also helps that the two hate each other. You know what they say about the enemy of your enemy. Although I do find it weird that she still stays here, considering how much coin she brings in.
After a long night of work, I follow her out to a hookah lounge where we find a booth with her friends, just a few men and women who are stuck here just like the rest of us. Irevhur, a short, black-haired man with dark skin who works the docks doing hard work. Zharrish, a woman with deep chocolate skin that spends her days in the hot kitchens baking. She’s a rather plump woman, and it’s easy to see why her baking is by far bested by no one else. I’d be just as plump if I had half the skills with an oven. Of course, having skill is one thing, but having the food to bake with is another. Thankfully, she loves to treat us with some leftovers and mistakes.
—
It’s been several cycles since I started working at the Brothel. Still waiting tables and cleaning dishes. Men get handsy, but I’ve gotten better at ignoring them.
For the most part, I’ve kept my head down and made what little money I can. I’ve been saving up little by little, and hopefully one day I’ll have enough to track down my parents and buy back their freedom.
I just wish I could make more without offering my body up for pleasure to make some coin, but I’m near to the point of caving. At this rate, it will take me a human lifetime to save up enough coin to buy them back. However, I’ve seen how much she pays the girls who are in high demand. It’d only take a season or two to save up the kind of money I’d need to buy my parents’ freedom. Of course, I’ll need a lot more if I want to buy my uncle and his gang’s freedom. But I can’t think about them right now, as hard as that is. I need to worry about my parents first. I can’t let my dignity impede saving my family. I’ll do anything to get my parents their freedom. Especially since it’s my fault they were sold into slavery.
One night after closing, I talk to madame. She’s busy, so she hardly gives me the time. “I was wondering… How much exactly does it pay to sleep with men?”
She stops what she’s doing to look up at me with an eyebrow raised. “What’s the change in heart?”
“My family was sold into slavery and I’m saving to buy their freedom,” I say honestly.
Her hardened face seems to soften. “I can understand that. It’s noble and selfless. Well, there are different rates. Pleasing a man doesn’t always have to be with your cunt. You see, you can use your mouth or your arse. Of course, letting a man fuck your arse isn’t always pleasant. It can be very pleasant with a man who knows what he’s doing, but not with men who hang out in brothels. They tend to be a bit rough. Of course, the arse also prevents pregnancy. But we have other ways of preventing pregnancy. As long as you drink a tonic before sex, you will not get pregnant. It’s not the tastiest, but it does its job. As far as rates go, it depends on what you’re willing to do and your clients. Obviously, I pay out different rates for different methods of pleasing a man, or a woman sometimes. To use your mouth is the lowest rate. Your cunt is in the mid-range because it can be pleasant. However, if you’re a virgin, you can earn a lot to lose it. Men seem to prefer virgins and will pay a hefty rate. Your arse is the highest since it is usually not very pleasant and quite a few men seem to prefer it for whatever reason.”
“Do I get to choose the men?” I ask.
“Not being as new as you are. Eventually, when you get repeat clients who will request you, you’ll have more freedom to turn men down, but when you start, you must take what you can get. However, I don’t see it being a problem for you. You’re very beautiful. You have that petite little nose, a delicate chin, and plush, soft cheeks with lush lips that men seem to drool over. You’ll surely get a long line of men who’ll seek you out if you know how to please them,” she says, her eyes drifting down my body.
“I’ll do it, but I want my virginity to remain intact,” I say.
“So, meaning you’ll only please with your mouth? What about your little tush?” she asks.
“For now, let’s just do the mouth,” I say.
She nods. “I’ll respect that. I want you to know that this is a safe place. Unlike some brothels, we protect our women. I know firsthand what it is like since I used to be in your shoes. I worked for a man who didn’t care at all what happened to the girls as long as he got paid his coin. I endured much abuse at the hands of many men. I won’t let that happen to you. Okay?”
I nod, and she seems really sincere. “I appreciate that.”
She smiles. “Tonight. I’ll have you wet your feet with just one man, and if you feel that it’s something you’d like to continue doing, then I’ll start bringing you as many customers as you’re feel comfortable with.”
I nod. “Thank you, Madame. And thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m in your debt. You’ve helped me out so much.”
“It is nothing, child. I feel a responsibility to women like you and me. We are not that different. My family was also taken and sold. Unfortunately, they died before I could ever set them free. I hope you do not have to endure the same fate,” she says. Before I can stop myself, I hug her. She stiffens up at first, but gently pats my head, welcoming my embrace.
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