by Rob J. Hayes
Could you blame him for thinking that? You just got dressed, took the gold and ran, Jez. Not exactly a fond farewell. At least he wasn't dead though, you have a habit of leaving men dead. It was a discomforting thought considering what she was about to do.
Two guards stood at the entrance to the Pink Purse both armed and armoured, one was thick of neck the other looked thick of head, both looked ready for a fight. Places like this always have their own guards and both look like they've seen a few fights, the stupid one maybe a few too many.
Jez sauntered up to the entrance with a look on her face she hoped made her look official; it wouldn't do for them to guess that she was here to murder one of their patrons. She stopped in front of the two guards and let them look at her. They were both big men, both towered over her and both weighed twice as much as her. Still, Jezzet held her ground and didn't flinch as they leered and grinned.
The thick necked one pointed at Jezzet's sword, it would look little more than a toy in one of their beefy hands, and laughed.
“It's not the size that matters, it's where you stick them,” Jez said with a sneer.
The one with the thick neck laughed and waved her in. Jezzet nodded and walked inside, it was unlikely they got many female visitors; no doubt they weren't certain whether they should let her in or turn her away.
Inside the smell was cloying; stale sex and sweet perfume. Think I preferred the smell of the sewer... both of them. The room was dimly lit with covered lanterns lending a seedy feel to the disgusting smell. Jezzet hated whore houses almost as much as she hated being called a whore. Cushioned couches and sofas scattered the floor, some had women lounging about on, and others were vacant. Each woman wore a light coloured dress to contrast against the dark coloured cushions and each dress looked like it could slip from their shoulders at a moment's notice. Some of the woman looked Jez up and down the way a predator might stare at its prey, others just watched her with dull, vacant eyes.
Should I pity them or despise them? Or should I just put them all out of their misery? Problem was not all of them looked miserable. How could any woman enjoy this lifestyle?
There were two more guards just inside the door, both as big and weighty as those outside but these two looked like they had some intelligence about them. Jezzet wagered she could kill them both before they even touched their weapons.
“Um... We don't service women... or well... Alexis does but she doesn't take payment,” Jez turned to find a petite girl with big brown eyes and long blond hair that flowed down to her arse. She didn't even looked old enough to bleed and the light green dress she wore was more or less transparent, Jez could clearly see her tiny budding breasts beneath.
Presumptuous little whore! Jezzet wondered how hard she had to stare at someone before they exploded. The little whore did not explode but she did wilt and back off a few steps. Jezzet became aware of the guards closing in behind her.
“No, no, no, no, Faren,” came a voice to Jez's right, spiced with an accent she had only heard once before back in the Five Kingdoms. “This one is not here for that. I am right, I am.”
The woman was older than Jez but not by a lot. Her skin was the colour of a dark olive and her hair was black as midnight. She had full, red lips, fine features barely touched with powder and lively dark eyes. She wore a light red dress of silk, which hugged the curves of her body while remaining as transparent as the little whore's green shift.
“You're a desert dweller,” Jez said with narrowed eyes.
The woman crossed her arms underneath her heavy breasts. Jez had never seen such large nipples before. Everything about the woman screamed, 'whore'.
“A westerner from the Five Kingdoms I am, yes.” Her voice was as sweet and choking as the perfume in the air. “And you have something for me, you do.”
“After we set terms.”
“No, no, no. I will have the payment now, whether we agree or not,” her voice became less sweet and more dangerous.
Jezzet gritted her teeth and sighed. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private?”
The whore mistress grinned and stepped up to take hold of Jez's arm. “Mmmmm,” she purred, “I thought you'd never ask, I did.”
If you try to touch me I will stab you. Jezzet thought as she allowed the whore to lead her away by the arm. They passed a number of other women who stared at Jez in mute fascination as they reclined on sofas. She fought the urge to spit.
You were almost sold to a whore house, Jez. She reminded herself and thanked all the Gods she couldn't remember that her old master had saved her from that even if he had made her pay for it every day she was with him.
It appeared there were no private rooms on the bottom floor of the Pink Purse so the whore mistress led Jezzet to a dark secluded alcove. She took a seat on one side and Jez sat down on the other. As the whore leaned forwards Jez pushed herself back into the cushioned seat.
“Do I scare you?” the whore mistress asked.
“No.”
“Ahhhh.” The woman's voice was husky.
No doubt men go wild for that when she moans in their ears.
“Then it is something else, it is. You do not agree with what we do here?”
Jezzet stared at the woman in silence. I'm going to knock out another of Thanquil's teeth after this. He could have sent Thorn, that bastard would have loved it here. Maybe a little too much.
“Your purse...” the whore mistress hinted. Jezzet plucked it from her belt and almost threw it at the woman; instead she placed it on the cushion between the two of them. The whore picked it up, opened it and made throaty moans as she looked through the contents. “So, you come to me in men's armour with men's weapons and you ask of me?”
I'd ask you to go fuck yourself but you'd probably just enjoy it.
“You have a regular,” Jezzet said, her voice as hard as stone. “An Arbiter.”
“Ahhh, yes. Arbiter Kosh. The things he does with some of my women. Mmmmm. You wish to experience them?”
“I wish to kill him.”
“Oh, that would explain the small fortune I have between my legs.” Jezzet hadn't failed to notice the whore had placed the gold purse between her thighs. “What could he have done to you, I wonder, to make you want him so dead so bad.”
Again Jezzet stared at the woman in harsh silence.
“It matters not, I suppose. You want to use one of my rooms, to draw him in, to strip him of his faith's armour and then. You know how to kill, you do.”
“Yes,” Jez bit off the word.
“Mmmmmm,” the whore mistress purred. “Murder and sex so often go hand in hand. We haven't much time. You will need to bathe and be dressed appropriately if you wish for him to pick you. Come, come. We shall have you ready in time, we shall.”
Jezzet had never been bathed before. No sooner had she settled into the hot water than the little girl with the big brown eyes took a sponge to her. Jez snapped, she grabbed the sponge twisted the girl's wrist and was on the verge of drowning her when the whore mistress entered the room.
The woman took one look at the scars on Jez's chest and back and her expression changed into one of sympathy. That made Jezzet angry all over again.
“Faren, out.” The whore mistress walked over to the bed and laid out a slim blue dress. “Some women... you will want to bathe alone, you will. Be quick, your Arbiter will be here soon, he will.”
My Arbiter may already be dead. Jez thought as she watched the whore mistress retreat from the room and shut the door.
She bathed; surprised as always by the amount of dirt that came off her, and patted herself dry with the towelling cloth they had left her. There was a full sized mirror in the room but Jezzet had no time for such things. She slipped the blue dress on over her head, it was so light it almost felt like she was wearing nothing but it hugged her figure much like the whore mistress' red counterpart.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she turned and her expression soured. You lo
ok like a fucking whore, Jez. If only Constance could see you know, might be then she'd rather fuck you instead of kill you. Through the dress Jezzet could see her small breasts and her soft pink nipples, she could see the hair between her legs, and she could even make out the faint outlines of some of her scars. If only breaking mirrors wasn't bad luck.
Jez hid her dagger and her sword, she couldn't be seen with them but she'd have need them soon enough, she placed her normal clothing under the bed as well. Then she walked over to the door, took in a deep breath and made her way down stairs.
As soon as she stepped out onto the landing eyes all over the greeting room turned to her. Half a dozen different whores stared at her, some with harsh eyes, and some with dull, vacant expressions. A man, a customer by the looks of things, watched her, a hungry smile on his face as he stared at her breasts. The guards looked on as well; one gave her a gap toothed smile, the other winked at her, stuck out his tongue and gave it a waggle. The worst bit was the whore mistress' stare though. The olive-skinned woman stared at Jezzet with frank appraisal, as a merchant might stare at a barrel of fish, and gave an approving nod at the result.
Jez felt her heat rising into her face as she descended the stairs. Jezzet Vel'urn is not the type of woman to blush at a few stares.
“Such a wonderful colour in your cheeks, you should show it more often, you should,” the whore mistress sang as she met Jez on the last of the stairs. The whore reached out a hand to cup her cheek but stopped short, thinking better of it. “A stare that has frightened many a man, I'm sure. But we are not hoping to frighten today, we aren't. You would do better to soften the eyes, pout the lips; open just a little, like so. The man wants to imagine the lips around him not barred to him. A whore does not...”
“I. Am. Not. A. Whore,” Jezzet forced out between her barred lips.
The mistress smiled in reply. Her hands waved in front of Jezzet, tracing the lines of her body beneath the dress without touching her. “But such a pretty one you would make.” She waved a hand at Jez's head. “Though the hair... will do, I suppose.” Then she waved a hand at Jez's crotch. “Perhaps though we should trim you a little.”
Jez focused her angriest glare at the woman. “You take a blade anywhere near my cunt and I'll gut you with it.”
The whore mistress sighed. “Such anger. When your man arrives I shall do the talking, I think. Direct him to you. You can smile, I hope.”
Jezzet took a moment to calm herself, let out a sigh and then smiled.
“Oh yes,” the whore mistress said with a smile of her own. “He will pick you. How could he not. Why I am tempted to pick you myself. Over here, come.” She led Jez to one of the sofas, a gigantic, green-cushioned monstrosity that looked like it could swallow Jezzet whole if she relaxed on it.
“Here, lounge. Hmmm, try one knee cocked. Keep your legs open, crossed legs never let any man in. Take your arms away from your chest, many men like small breasts but they need to be seen. Yes, that is good, it is.”
Jezzet felt like a fool lying in the position the mistress had cajoled her into but she lay there all the same, hoping it wouldn't take too long.
“I will greet your Arbiter, direct him to you. He will pick you, he will. Take him to the room. After we will deal with the...”
“The body,” Jezzet finished for the mistress, the woman nodded in reply. “You do this a lot, don't you?”
The whore mistress smiled and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I did not come here all the way from my desert to be a whore. There is money in what we women have between our legs, but there is more money in using it to kill men.”
After that the mistress moved away. She greeted two men as they entered; the first was a huge, fat man with more chins than hairs on his head. He focused his beady little eyes on Jezzet and a wet grin spread across his face but the mistress turned him away, directed him to a girl even smaller than Jez.
He'll likely crush her beneath that weight. At least it won't last very long. Fat men, in Jezzet's experience, rarely lasted very long.
The second man to enter the brothel looked as plain as plain could be with nervous, jittery hands that he constant squeezed together. He greeted the mistress before angling straight for a black skinned beauty lounging at the back of the room. The woman greeted the man as if they were old friends.
The third man to walk in Jezzet recognized on sight. Kosh was tall, handsome in a clean way with sharp features. He had the blonde hair and blue eyes so prevalent in Sarth. Dark, dangerous eyes but not near as pretty as Thanquil's. He wore the coat as well, the brown leather coat that marked him as an Arbiter, it was clean and well looked after whereas Thanquil's was ragged and stained. Jezzet noticed the scythes as well, two of them, one hanging either side of his hip.
The whore mistress greeted him with a beaming smile and a kiss on the lips that allowed her to press her breasts against him. He was red faced and grinning by the time she released him. “Mistress Frerry,” Kosh said his voice as handsome as his face. “Am I finally to experience you instead of one of your girls?”
She giggled back at him. “Why Arbiter Kosh you dare too much, you do. You know I save myself for your Emperor.”
“You may be saving yourself a very long time.”
“What is a woman to do? He will come to his senses eventually, he will. I have a new one for you to enjoy today, she is rare and well trained.”
Jezzet fought the urge to gag and instead put on the same smile she used to give to D'roan.
“Huh,” Kosh grunted with a grin. “She is...”
“Beautiful, no? I bought her from Acanthia, expensive but worth every coin I am assured. Though if truth be told no one has had the chance to experience her yet. Only arrived today, she has.”
“Acanthia?” Kosh mused. “A slave?”
The whore mistress tutted at the Arbiter. “No, no, no. Slavery is outlawed in Acanthia. I merely... purchased her contract.”
Arbiter Kosh licked at his lips. “We'll settle accounts after. Does she speak?”
Yes I do. I'll say 'FUCK YOU' as I slit your throat.
“Only when commanded to. She will say whatever you wish her to.”
“Good, lead the way then, Acanthia.”
Jezzet caught the whore mistress' anxious stare and ignored it. She took hold of Arbiter Kosh's hand and began leading him up the stairs.
'Once he puts aside his weapons.' Thanquil had said. Until then Jezzet would continue the act though she could feel her anger bubbling up inside.
Kosh couldn't even wait till they were inside the room. As Jezzet went to open the door she felt him press himself up against her. She felt his cock, hard through his trousers, poking at her backside. With a grunt she pushed open the door and stepped through. Kosh followed her in, slamming the door in his haste. Once inside his dark, dangerous blue eyes moved over every inch of her body. Jezzet kept her own eyes down and fought the urge to scream.
“Take off your dress,” he commanded. Jezzet shrugged out of the piece of cloth and let it puddle on the floor at her feet. “Scars... do they cut all the whores like that in Acanthia?”
Jezzet found her hands shaking. She wanted to cover herself, wanted to scream, wanted to stab someone, wanted to fuck someone. Instead she lowered her voice to a whisper and said. “Only the disobedient ones.”
The glint she saw in Arbiter Kosh's eyes told Jez she had guessed right about him. He liked the idea that she had been beaten for being disobedient to her masters. Some men liked women who had been hurt.
“Come here,” he ordered.
Just a little longer, Jez.
She did as she was told. Kosh grabbed her, squeezed at her breasts, pressed his wet lips against her own and started fondling at his belt buckle. Jezzet suffered his clumsy attentions and then helped him with his buckle. His scythes hit the floor with a metallic thump. Then she pushed the coat off his shoulders and that too hit the floor. His trousers were next and then his undergarments. Jezzet ripped at his shirt and
flung it aside.
Her target, Arbiter Kosh stood there, naked and weapon-less in front of her. Now!
Jezzet pushed him backwards on to the bed; he lay there staring at her, a curious grin on his face. Jez climbed on top of him, took hold of his cock and guided it inside of her as she lowered herself down.
He's smaller than Thanquil.
St first she began to move her hips. Up and back, forward and down. Faster and faster. She knew she should be smiling, men liked it when she smiled, instead she found herself staring at Kosh in disgust. Either the Arbiter inside of her didn't notice or he didn't care, he stared back at her with a hungry face, red and panting, grunting and groaning. Jezzet continued to grind her hips.
Jez had fucked many men in her life. Some were fat, some were thin. Some smelled of stale alcohol and sweat, others of flowery perfume. Some had worn armour, some had worn silk. Some were rich, some didn't have a single bit to their name. Some of them had names, others had been nameless drunken fucks. Most times it had been willing but sometimes it had been rape. Never before had she felt truly disgusted in herself though.
Fight or fuck, Jez? You always choose fuck. She remembered what the Sword of the North had told her, 'Whores fuck their way out of fights, not Blademasters.'
Kosh was panting now, his breath coming out as grunts of pleasure. His hands squeezed painfully at her small breasts and then ran down her body and they gripped hold of her arse. Still she moved her hips. Up and down, she could feel him inside of her but took no pleasure of it.
A Blademaster without a blade...
Jezzet leaned down to kiss the Arbiter and slid her right hand underneath the pillow at the head of the bed. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger she had hidden there.
“Oh God yes!” Kosh wheezed out.
Jezzet sat up and drove her dagger through the Arbiter's heart.