Chapter 53: A Bit of Girl Talk
“Take it all you pathetic little bitch!” Isa snarled as she drove her cock into the man’s oiled up ass. He let out a whimper and pressed his face into the pillow, pressing back against her. “Good boy,” Isa sneered, bringing her hand down roughly on his right buttcheek. He let out a squeak and Isa laughed freely at him. His entire body shuddered with desire, and Isa could be proud of that.
Isa didn’t like or dislike what she did. It was what it was. She didn’t prefer being the one to give, but she didn’t have the same hangups a lot of dusk-girls had with their genitals. It objectively felt good to fuck someone else, even though it meant needing to get into it, at least a little. She enjoyed the character she played, that of an aloof, domineering, cruel mistress. It meant being able to let go and not hide her disdain or her true feelings on any subject. Something the other girls never stopped giving her shit for. They might not have appreciated her blunt honesty and strong sense of boundaries, but her clients did.
“Yes Queen, please fuck me harder!” The man cried out. Isa didn’t have to fake all of her contempt. The worst part of the job was the customers, though Davan here was one of the better ones. There was a reason she was there tonight when the rest of them were enjoying a few nights off. Isa had money to make, and clients to retain.
“Does little bitch want to cum?” Isa taunted. She leaned forward until she was really giving it to him, resting all of her weight on him as she fucked him into the bed. Her breasts pressed against his back and her hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing tighter and tighter until it was painful.
“Yes! Yes!”
Isa smiled. “Then that’ll be another castura.” She buried herself to the hilt and stopped there, enjoying the feeling of being deep in his guts.
“W-what?” He tried looking over his shoulder at her, but Isa grabbed him by the hair and shoved his face back into the rough texture of the bed.
“If you want to cum, you better give your Queen another Castura. Otherwise I’m just going to fuck you and leave you to walk away with my cum dripping out of your ass and blueballs.” She gave his shaft a slow, teasing pump. “Do you want to cum?”
“I-I want to cum,” He muttered.
“What was that?” Isa pulled back just enough to thrust back into him.
“I want to cum!” He repeated louder, thrusting his ass back at her. “Anything you want my Queen, it’s yours.”
“That’s a good boy,” said Isa as she resumed fucking him with a frenzy, hand around his cock a blur as she jerked it wildly.
He didn’t last long. Maybe another half minute of the dual assaults on his senses before he shuddered and cried out and shot his cum all over the bed. Shortly after that Isa grunted and buried herself in deep, finishing off inside of him. There was pleasure, yes, but mostly it was satisfaction about the whole encounter. The entire thing had only taken half an hour and that extra castura would go into her savings. She planted a soft kiss on the back of her client’s neck before withdrawing, stepping back and letting herself drip out of him. It was all part of the experience for the type of men who came to her.
She joined him on the bed, laying down on her back and putting her hands behind her head, looking up at the ceiling. Davan rolled over next to her, a well fucked mess and in no hurry to clean himself up. He cuddled up to her side, and Isa tolerated it for the moment. Already her thoughts were drifting ahead, to how many more stops she should make before she turned back, how much money she needed for her next visit to the flesh sculptors.
“Thank you,” said Davan, throwing his arm around her and resting his face on her breast. As warm and sticky as she already felt, she was tempted to shove him off of her, but in the afterglow he’d probably get his feelings hurt. “I had a really good time, my Queen.”
“You’re welcome,” Isa sniffed. “My clients get what they pay for. And good boys who pay their queens get it all.” She stroked his hair idly, brushing some out of his face. She could handle this for a little bit longer.
“Same time next week?” He asked hopefully.
Isa shook her head. “No, I’m not going to be working in inns or taverns anymore. I’m…Upgrading.” If you could call it that. Sure the house they had now was big and gorgeous and fit her and the girls perfectly, but that didn’t mean Isa was fond of it. Comfort, convenience, and protection? Even after the better part of a month, it felt like a trap. Razia was a pleasant snake and Quentin was unreliable and temporary. “Which means my prices are going up. Not sure you can afford me anymore,” she said, letting the dark smile spread.
Davan pushed himself up to rest on his elbow. “How much are we talking here? My Queen,” he added hastily.
Isa rolled her eyes. “We’re done fucking, you can use my name now. As far as I’m concerned this session is over and I’m taking a break before going home.” She pulled away from him and swung her legs off the side of the bed. Taking a small towel from the nearby dresser, she dipped it into a bowl of water and began cleaning her cock off.
“Going to be four castura for my time. Today’s little tax was nudging you a little closer to my new price.” They all had sat down and made an agreement on what they would charge for their base services. It ended up being double what they were charging in other peoples’ buildings, with a higher rate going to their pimp due to providing everything they needed. The moment things went sour, Isa was ready to bolt. If there was one thing Isa did trust, it was that ‘Mr. Q’ wouldn’t pursue her if she vanished.
“That’s…That’s a lot more,” Davan said, making her wince. He was one of the better ones, but he was clingy and had a grating voice.
“Are you saying I’m not worth it?” Isa looked over her shoulder, arching a brow at him.
Davan backpedaled immediately. “No no no, I’m not saying that. Just…” He grimaced. “I might only be able to see you every two weeks instead.”
“And I’m sure I’ll mourn the loss of your companionship,” Isa said dryly.
“What’s the reason for the price hike? What happened?”
Isa rose, grabbing the silk wraps from the floor and began winding them around her body. “That man you may have seen me and the other girls with. He bought a house for us to work out of. It’s in a nicer area and we don’t have to compete with anyone. So our worth is rising. You can find us just south of the Boulevard, in Argonza Villas. We’re officially opening in three days.”
That, of course, was one of the reasons she was out there. All of the girls had made ventures out into Orchrisus to find their regulars and update them. Yes, they were alive and well. No, they weren’t quitting the business, they just found a new place. Why don’t you find me here? The house was basically ready, they were just finishing up and making sure they had a standing clientele when they did open. Of course, none of them were supposed to fuck their clients during this rest period, but Isa was not one to let others tell her what to do. She earned her money, on her terms.
Davan let out a sharp whistle. “There? A friend of mine accidentally wandered into the courtyard there and armed guards promptly cornered him and threw him out. That’s a hell of an upgrade. They’re letting you girls work there, among the ‘quality’?” The contempt in his voice was familiar, and made her smile.
“They don’t have much of a choice.” Isa finished getting dressed and turned to Davan. She held out her hand. He looked at it blankly for a second before she snapped her fingers and he realized what she wanted. He dug into his purse and pulled out another castura and dropped it in there.
“Good boy,” Isa said one last time. His face flushed, and it seemed to hit him that he was sitting there naked in a puddle of their shared fluids. Isa deposited the shard into the folds of her dress and handed him the damp towel. “See you in two weeks.”
Leaving the building, Isa hesitated in the middle of the street before she sighed and turned towards home. Or what passed for home now. Jenna and Samantha were nuts about the new place, and Isa could hardly blame them. It was nice, having a room to herself. A real room, with space to decorate and personalize. Someplace she wouldn’t have to vacate once the innkeeper or landlord decided to try to suggest alternative forms of payment. But once again, it all boiled down to trust. Nothing good happened in Orchrisus. Not without a cost.
Isa sighed and pushed through the crowd, ignoring the bright colors and cacophony of sounds that made Orchrisus feel alive. The city was convenient and it had its charms, but at the end of the day most people were just trying to make ends meet, and just about everyone wanted to get whatever shards they could get off of you.
“Hello there,” said a man, popping into her vision and blocking her path. “Can I interest you in --” Isa covered his mouth with her hand and walked past him, giving him a rough shove as she went. He let out an indignant cry (“Bitch!”) but didn’t follow her.
No, Isa didn’t love the city. She often dreamed about escaping it, finding somewhere else to live. Maybe out in the desert, among her people. Maybe somewhere beyond the desert, like the grass sea of Carolas or maybe finding a homestead up in Finsk where some lonely farmer needed a wife. She couldn’t give anyone a child, but she was a prize and anyone would be lucky to have her as a companion. She just couldn’t do that until she finished her transition. She couldn’t move away from the temple’s flesh sculptors just yet. For now, she was stuck.
The sounds of the city faded away as she turned south, down into the relatively quiet side streets that surrounded the block of luxury villas. Each step she took brought her further away from the hustle and bustle and closer to the sanctuary she couldn’t help but distrust and resent. Now, after a night of working Isa found herself looking forward to lazing around for a while. She walked through the courtyard, head held high, ignoring the whispers of their new neighbors. The guards seemed well enough on their side, but she wasn’t interested in paying attention to the dirty looks the other residents loved to send their way.
“Hey, welcome home,” Samantha called out as Isa walked through the garden. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh?” Isa stopped short, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what were you saying?” Samantha wasn’t alone. She was joined by Jenna and the traitor, who stuck by the redhead as often as she could. Isa did her best to pretend Lynne didn’t exist. The alternative would be picking fights with her constantly, and she couldn’t be bothered to deal with the beetleshit that would follow when everyone defended the backstabbing slut.
“You were gone for a while,” said Jenna neutrally. “What were you up to?”
“I was reaching out to some of my men, letting them know where to find me.” Isa answered, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew where this was going and she didn’t like it.
“Is that all you were doing?” Jenna pressed. “Mr. Q said we should rest and take a few days to ourselves.”
And just like that, her mood was ruined. “Are you now his obedient slaves?” Isa scoffed. “He doesn’t own me, and I have bills the rest of you don’t.”
“It’s the going out alone part, I think,” Lynne said cautiously. “Things are dangerous and --”
“Oh, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Isa shot back. Lynne’s face fell, and she looked like she didn’t know whether to start yelling or crying. Isa took no small satisfaction from knocking her down a peg. Isa may have been a prickly bitch, but at least she didn’t get others hurt. “It’s always been dangerous. Having a pimp to scare off the dregs doesn’t make it much safer. As you may have noticed. Lucy definitely noticed.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Come on, that’s not fair,” said Samantha. Beside her, Lynne’s face fell to something between rage and despair. “Lucy already forgave her.” By which Samantha meant that she forgave her, and didn’t understand why anyone else wouldn’t.
“Good for her,” Isa sighed. “Doesn’t mean the rest of us have to. No telling what she’ll do the next time things get difficult.”
Lynne reacted like she’d been slapped. A dark part of Isa luxuriated in the other woman’s discomfort. She deserved as much for getting Lucy hurt. She deserved a lot worse, and no one but Isa seemed to realize it. Not for the first time, she felt an impossibly wide gulf between her and the other women. It always seemed to end up this way. Just because Isa wasn’t willing to back down and accept the same shit everyone else took and took. When she stood her ground and didn’t give in, somehow it was always her who was the asshole.
“I’m really, really sorry,” Lynne said, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to die either. I was alone, and I’ve seen what Darriq could do when angry. What would you’ve done in my situation?”
Isa opened her mouth to deliver another biting comment, but stopped. What would Isa do? Simple. She wouldn’t have let herself be in a place where someone had that kind of power over her. That’s what the others didn’t seem to get. You chain yourself to one person, and that person could disappoint you. They could fail you and leave you worse off than you were before. It was better to stay on the move and not let people get too close.
But it was also better to move in a group. Safety in numbers, and things had been safe for the most part. Maybe that was why she couldn’t stop thinking about the beating. It was the first time in nearly a month that any of them had so much as a bruise from a bad client. The true answer came to her a second later, and she hated where her mind went. “I would’ve set him up. Why didn’t you tell the rest of us? Quentin was doing whatever the fuck it was he was doing during that week, but maybe a threat would’ve shaken his ass up.”
“We talked about that, actually,” said Jenna. She was the only one who didn’t seem too rocked by the conversation. “Afterwards. That she could’ve and should’ve come to us. And that’s what’ll happen the next time.”
“When was this?” Isa demanded.
Jenna smiled sweetly. “It was just this past week, when you were out doing whatever the fuck you were doing.”
A flash of rage was there and gone before Isa could register it. She let out a surprised laugh that made everyone tense up before they realized it wasn’t going to be followed by an angry rant or caustic words. Isa came over to one of the wide, luxurious couches and sat down next to Jenna, letting herself get comfortable. “You’re really going to put that much trust in the pale bastard after he let us down?”
“Hey, be nice,” Samantha scolded her. “He can’t help the way he looks.”
Samantha’s softness irritated Isa, if only because she found herself softening around the edges to not upset her. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. “No, but he can help who he is. Just a few days ago he admitted that he was a killer. As in, he made enough money to buy not one but two homes like this off a pile of bodies. Doesn’t that make any of you even a little bit worried?”
“Well, yeah,” Jenna laughed. “Bossman’s scary as hell. I wouldn’t want to piss him off. But he hasn’t done anything to me. Shit, I’ve got more money in my purse than I’ve had in months, and I’m working less.”
The rest of them made a noise of agreement. “You know how me and him first met,” said Samantha. “Thanks to him, I knew Otho was willing to let me die! Because of that, we all got out and now we’ve got it better. Isn’t that a good thing?”
“No,” Isa said sharply. “It was because of Razia’s temper we all had to uproot and start over. How are you not mad at her for that?”
“Well, she did say she’d take care of us,” Jenna said with a shrug. “She kept her promise.”
“Is it taking care of us if she’s fixing a problem she caused in the beginning?”
“It is when things are better now!” Samantha chirped.
Brushing a long strand of blonde hair out of her face, Lynne spoke up. “I didn’t know what to think that night we all met. Mr. Q broke Darriq’s arm and then I got invited to join you. Maybe he’s as much of a monster as Darriq is, but he doesn’t seem like it.”
Of course it seemed that way. None of them were using their heads and really thinking about it. Traps rarely looked like traps at first. They had to look appealing to lure people in. That’s how people like Razia operated. They offered up solutions that seemed like they would work and then never quite delivered. They’d keep that up until the suckers they were fleecing realized they were being cheated. But at this point, Isa was having trouble with her own arguments.
“Have any of you, any of you at all, ever asked yourself what Quentin wants from us?” Isa looked around at them. “Do you really think he’d be doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart?”
Silence answered her. A smug smile on her face, Isa said, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“He’s doing it for Razia,” said Jenna, looking thoughtful. “They’re always spending time together when they’re not with us. She’s got him wrapped around her pinky.”
“Okay,” said Isa. “Great. So he’s doing it for her. Do you think she’s doing it out of the goodness of her heart? What do you think Razia wants from us?”
The silence that fell was even longer than the first. Isa looked around, enjoying a sense of vindication. Finally, they were starting to see what she did. Isa may not have been kind, but she wasn’t cruel for no reason. She was as sharp as she was because she wasn’t easily taken in by the same shit that distracted everyone else. There was something going on here.
“What if she’s just having a good time?” Samantha guessed. Isa snickered, but Samantha pressed on. “No, I mean it. Me and her have talked about it a lot. We love doing what we do. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and we could do it anywhere. I mean, once my debt was done me and Razia even talked about going on the road and traveling. I don’t think she wants to hurt us.”
“Yeah,” Jenna agreed, “I think she just kind of wants to be in charge. She seems like the kind of person who wants to have everything go her way so she can show off.”
“And that’s okay with you all? We’re staking our lives and our livelihoods on the charity of a confessed killer and the shameless whore manipulating him.”
Everyone started speaking up at once, and Isa immediately regretted her choice of words. They talked over each other, none of them sounding happy. Even Samantha looked at her with something resembling irritation, the first time Isa had ever seen it on the woman’s face. It was Lynne who spoke up, standing and pointing a finger in her direction.
“Look, if you don’t want to trust them, fine. If you don’t want to trust me, I get it. But after spending a year under Darriq, Mr. Q’s a goddamned saint in comparison. If you’re so suspicious of them both, why are you even here?”
The words echoed unpleasantly in Isa’s head. She’d asked herself the same thing, time and again. No easy answers came to mind, and the difficult ones weren’t comfortable. Around the room, everyone was looking at her with a mix of irritation, impatience, and even dislike. That was fine. That was comfortable, even. It was easier in some ways to be disliked, but…She found that she didn’t want it this time. She looked down into her lap.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Where else am I going to go? If I’m not around, what’s to stop you bitches from making dumb choices that’ll get everyone killed?” No one laughed, but Samantha did smile. The seconds stretched on, making Isa squirm. “I guess I’m just waiting for it to all crash and burn.”
“So you can say I told you so?” asked Jenna.
It was complicated, and Isa didn’t have an easy answer for that either. “So I don’t let myself get my hopes up,” she admitted.
That struck a chord with everyone else. Their sounds of understanding were almost worse than their irritation. “That makes sense,” said Lynne, smiling sadly. “If you end up being right, I’ll be the first to say we were wrong. But I think Mr. Q and Razia might be on our side.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Isa sniffed.
Not two seconds later, another person walked in. They all looked up to see that it was Lucy, still looking bruised and battered but at least she was recognizable. Sort of. She smiled wide, and the gaps in her teeth were filled in, and even whiter now than the teeth around them. “I’m back,” she announced, beaming as brightly as the midday sun.
“Lucy!”
“Luce!”
“Oh my gods, you look incredible!”
Almost as one they all got up and swarmed Lucy, fussing over her and gently touching her face, which had looked like so much tenderized meat before. Isa remained sitting, staring at the younger woman in confusion. He did it. The moonkissed son of a bitch actually followed through and got Lucy help. It was hard to believe what she was seeing.
“How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?” Jenna pressed, throwing her arms around Lucy and hugging her tightly.
“I’m okay. A little,” Lucy admitted, opening her arms wide for a group hug as everyone joined her in her celebration. “It felt really weird when the priest was working on me. It’s really hard to describe. How do you handle going through that so often, Isa?” Lucy’s smile almost dropped at the look on Isa’s face.
“Easily,” Isa answered. “The alternative is being stuck in a man’s body. Did he really do it?”
“Yeah!” Lucy brightened. “Paid for it all in one go, and when I told him I’d pay him back for it he wouldn’t hear of it. The priest was super nice, and when I said I was scared he…”
Isa tuned her out as her brain worked overtime. This seemed impossible, Orchrisus was a shithole filled with people who would stab you in the back for a qala. Finding people you could trust was rare, and even this uneasy group of friends seemed like something of a miracle. There was no way things could be better…Could there?
She found herself standing and walking out of the room. Samantha called out after her, but Isa ignored it. Blood pounded in her head as she stormed out the garden and across the courtyard to Quentin’s house. The gate was unlocked, as they promised it would be before midnight. They’d promised to be available if they were needed, and Isa had sneered at the idea. Now she barged right in with a head full of steam, ready to start demanding why he’d really done it. When she got to the house itself, she stopped.
Quentin and Razia were there, on the lounger. The burly man was folded in half, face buried in his hands while Razia rubbed at his back. Isa’s frustration, her distrust, everything stopped as she saw Razia whispering something in his ear and kept gently touching him. Quentin rubbed at his eyes and looked up and caught Isa’s gaze. He looked like utter shit.
“Hey Isa,” Razia called out cautiously, even suspiciously. “Everything good?”
“No,” Isa said, closing the distance. She didn’t know why she was angry, or why she felt the need to put it on them, but it was easier than dealing with it alone. “I went out tonight and saw a few clients. Told them where to find me, and then I made some money.”
The two of them stared blankly at her, waiting for her to go on. Feeling almost silly, Isa pressed on, “The other girls gave me shit for not taking it easy like you said, but you don’t own me.”
Razia opened her mouth, ready to give her an earful but Quentin put his hand on her arm and stopped her. “Okay,” he said, giving her a tired nod. “I get it. I hate sitting around resting. Were you safe about it?”
That gave her pause. “Of course I was safe about it. I suppose you’ll be wanting your cut, right?” Isa reached into her silks but Quentin shook his head slowly.
“No,” he said. “I wasn’t around and protecting you, so you don’t owe me anything. Keep it. Put it towards your transition.”
Everything he said was in that damned calm, detached manner he had. He spoke coolly, completely neutral, as if she wasn’t trying to pick a fight. Isa hated it. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded, but it lacked the heat she’d been feeling. It came out wrong. Instead of an angry demand, it was almost subdued.
“Rough night,” he grunted, lowering his gaze down to the ground. “Don’t worry about it.”
Isa was about to clarify exactly what she meant when Razia shook her head. The short islander looked angrier than Isa felt. She jerked her thumb towards the garden. Isa paused, and nodded. She went out, and after a minute or so Razia came out as well.
“What’s your problem, Isa?” Razia asked, sighing. “What’s got you acting like…Well, you?”
Isa found that she didn’t have an answer. All her anger, all her distrust, it felt cold now. Worse than that, Isa didn’t know how she felt, other than knowing she didn’t like it. Everything seemed so clear just half an hour ago, but now? Isa’s cynical worldview was increasingly at odds with what she was witnessing.
“What’ll it take to make you happy and not give us shit?” Razia asked. “Because we’re tired and really did have a terrible day. So whatever it is you want, just say it so I can maybe try to cheer Quentin up, if that’s at all possible.”
“I…” Isa swallowed. She looked past Razia towards the rest of the house, blocked by a giant leafy bush. “I don’t know. I’m…sorry.” The words were unfamiliar and felt wrong.
“Well, look at that,” Razia half smiled. “Is that all, then?”
“Yeah. I guess. Sorry.”
Razia tentatively reached out and touched Isa’s shoulder. Isa almost flinched away, but stood there feeling worse by the second. “Look, if you’ve got a real problem, you can come to us. But can you try to keep the pointless fights to a bare minimum? Just for tonight?”
Isa let herself be ushered out the gate. “Yeah,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. “I’ll try.” Razia gave her shoulder one last squeeze before leaving her there. To her surprise, Isa found herself blinking away some tears. It was easier to be angry, to be suspicious of everyone and to not trust. But as she stood there, feeling truly alone and cut off from the people she could almost call friends, Isa allowed herself to think that maybe…maybe she was wrong about some things. Maybe she was the problem.