4 comments/ 34944 views/ 12 favorites Teamora By: Gelephor Author's note: This story has a pretty long build up before it gets to the actual sex. It's more of an exploration of an erotic fantasy universe in which I've been daydreaming and scribbling. If you just want a quick fix, the sex starts a little less than halfway through. *** "Go fetch me a whore for the evening, would you my dear? I'm coming over a bit randy. Jikk, give her some money." Tecia Naywin beamed at her fat, balding husband, accepted a silk purse rattling with coins from his Chamberlain, and then rose from her seat. She'd been sitting on the carriage bench across from them, calmly reading a story. She put that aside when she stood. She had to double over almost to the waist inside the carriage, though, and the rough road meant she knocked her head a couple times even so. She opened the door to see scenes of the city passing by outside, then lowered herself to the step outside the door. "We're not far from Ilson's manor, dear. You should have no trouble walking the rest of the way." Tecia turned back slightly to acknowledge that she'd heard, then gave a small leap to carry her from the moving carriage down to the solid earth. Her husband's retinue saluted her dutifully as they trotted past. She sighed and reached up to pat her brown hair. She tugged at the bodice of her dress to make sure the small jump hadn't left anything out of place. In the throng of people walking on the street, Tecia stood out for a number of reasons. To begin, she was a beautiful woman. She had a curvy, hourglass figure with generous breasts like firm, ripe melons. The thin fabric of her dress barely hid her pert nipples and full, soft areola. She narrowed slightly in the middle to her waist and then, through the thin fabric of her dress, she showed the barest outline of strong, well-rounded hips and an excellent rump. There were other pretty girls on the street, but even among them Tecia still drew gazes. Also, there was her dress. Noblewomen of Ellemal wore a very specific kind of dress. The bodice would be white or woven in House colors. The skirt could be in any color, though House colors were often chosen. But it was always hard to tell the color of the skirt, because there was an artful weave, long kept secret by the Tailors' Guild, that left them very nearly transparent but not quite so. A noblewoman's dress always showed the entire outline of her lower body, but none of the details. It always gave the impression that, if the light were just a little bit better, one could see everything. It was a false impression -- it was always just the outline and never the details no matter the lighting -- but it was an alluring one. The priests of the Order of the Flame said the dress was good for reminding noblewomen of their place -- that however much station and rank they might have, they were still and always only a couple steps away from the night house. Tecia had been told that by her mother when she was old enough to begin wearing such dresses, and she would have told her own daughter if she were ever likely to have one. When she first came of age, in her eighteenth summer, and she wore a lady's dress for the first time, Tecia had felt almost naked. But that was long past. It had been many years since she worried about why her dresses were the way they were. She simply wore them while she went about her life. Now she scanned the crowd for prostitutes. None were to be found. Well, the carriage was heading toward Ilson manor -- to the east. That meant the market district would be to the west. No one built manors next door to banks and trade houses -- or night houses. She walked west, smiling at each commoner who averted his eyes or sketched a salute. She pondered -- not for the first time -- how many of Ellemal's social conventions were built on polite fiction. Wives were best for picking prostitutes for their husbands because they had experience of what he liked in bed. Hah! She'd had about ten direct experiences with that before he got her with child. Once the child turned out to be a boy, and there was no more reason to produce an heir, it was his harem girls who got all the experience -- or hired prostitutes. The only reason she was good at the job now was eight years of observing what kinds of girls worked and which got her yelled at the morning after. Brown hair. Large breasts. Generous, rounded hips. And plenty of fur between her legs for him to run his fingers through. In short, her husband liked girls who looked like her. In a way, that galled -- it meant she had been chosen as a wife based only on her appeal in bed, rather than any advantages of her House or her schooling. But in other ways it was pleasant. Her husband must still find her pretty, if he found girls like her pretty. Which meant there was at least some chance -- perhaps if they ever visited a tiny village with no night house -- that she would enjoy his bed once again. She knew she was getting close when she began to pass nude women on the streets. Common prostitutes weren't allowed clothing, the better to make sure everyone knew they were available. Blondes, brunettes, redheads -- they breezed by her, barely remembering to sketch the most casual salute. Their interest was in the males on the street, not a lone lady. None of them, alas, were quite the kind her husband enjoyed. She found her way to Peach Spice, a prosperous looking Night House, after about fifteen minutes of walking. Outside was a sign with a picture of a peach, but like all Night House art, it put one in mind of a woman's flower more than an actual peach. One of the prostitutes who worked there stood nude on a pedestal outside, dancing and swaying her hips, trying to entice passers-by. Tecia walked in through the open arch; there she found the usual Night House layout. The House Mistress smiled at her from where she held court in a fairly nice chair, guarding the door to their silver room. A burly, scowling male guard stood behind her, back to the door. To Tecia's left were silk curtains concealing the staircase to the high prostitutes' chambers. Another man stood guard beside those. Tecia knew by the weight of her purse that she'd been given enough coin to hire a high prostitute, but she wasn't about to make that mistake. Her husband enjoyed a healthy bush around a flower, and high prostitutes usually shaved. To her right was another open arch, from which emmanated grunts, coos, giggles, moans -- the sounds of whores at work. That was where she'd find a girl fit for her husband. The house mistress rose from her throne. She was getting on in years, and her hair was now more white than gold, but she had clearly been a beauty once. Night house mistresses were almost always former prostitutes who had outgrown the work. She smiled and curtsied, then held out a cup of tea. Tecia took it, sipped, handed it back, then smiled back at her. "What is my lady's husband's pleasure this fine day?" the Mistress asked, after sipping from her own teacup. First she had to endure some conversation with the house mistress about what her husband liked in girls -- all of it lies, since she could never publicly admit to his vulgar tastes. Then she had to go search among the high prostitutes -- a complete waste of time, since they were all too fancy for him, but necessary since nobles were expected to want noble prostitutes. Then she had to pretend to be about to leave, and agree to look among the common whores only as a matter of courtesy to the mistress. It was all fake, both women knew it, but none of it could be skipped. When the preliminaries were finished, Tecia headed for the common room. The mistress offered her a large cup of tea to take in with her, and Tecia walked in to brave the common room. Even after years of doing this task, it still made her... uncomfortable. Any good noblewoman would hate a night house common room, of course. The fact that Tecia didn't hate it was what made her uncomfortable. The first bed she passed was occupied by a whore and her client. She tried her hardest not to look at all as the man took his sweaty, grunting pleasure. Ladies didn't like sex. Ladies were happy once they bore a son, and could expect not to have to do it any more. Ladies most certainly did not feel warm all over when they saw a common man roughly stuffing some cheap whore; they didn't feel the first traces of dew on their flower at the powerful, musky scent of his pleasure. And no lady would ever, EVER envy a prostitute. Tecia clenched her jaw and walked on, trying to ignore her body's reaction. She passed bed after bed. Some were occupied by waiting prostitutes, who all smiled eagerly at her, hoping to be chosen. To be hired by a lady to come home and please her husband meant a whole night of only one client, taking her ease afterward, and all the while being paid more than she would have made staying here and servicing many men. But all of them had something slightly off: breasts not large enough, too skinny in the hips... something. Finally she found a likely prospect. The girl had long brown hair, well below her shoulders, and remarkably it still looked freshly washed. She must not have been very busy today. As she lounged on her bed, Tecia could could see the full thatch of soft brown hair between her legs, and the heavy way her soft, heavy breasts fell to the sides. "May I offer you a sip of tea?" she asked the girl. She stood up and smiled, accepting a sip from Tecia's cup. Tecia sipped as well. Facing her, Tecia discovered, was almost like facing a looking glass. This prostitute would suffice, she knew already, because the woman was a virtual mirror image of herself. Oh, there were differences -- the prostitute had higher cheekbones, her hair was longer, her eyes weren't quite the same color -- but still, the resemblance was remarkable. It made Tecia angry. If Count Naywin wanted women who looked like this, why couldn't SHE get stuffed? "My name is Tecia Naywin. My husband is Count Bon Naywin. He's visiting town, and asked me to find him a prostitute who could entertain him tonight." The girl saluted her with open right hand touching her left breast, palm down. "I'm Oira, and I would love to serve your husband tonight. Thank you so much for gracing this humble public woman with your attention." When she dropped the salute, Tecia cupped the girl's left breast and hefted slightly. Soft skin but firm, more than filling her hand, and a pleasant weight, not quite so large as her own but very nearly -- her husband would approve. She walked around behind the girl and squeezed a cheek of her rump, finding it firm and soft. She came back to stand in front of the girl. "Do you enjoy being backstuffed?" "Oh, it's my favorite way to service a man!" But Tecia caught the dropped eyes and averted gaze that gave the lie away. The girl didn't like it, but she wanted the job bad enough to pretend to. That would do. It would have to. Tecia couldn't imagine any woman actually enjoying that. It was one thing she definitely didn't envy whores. Not that she envied prostitutes! Certainly not. She didn't like sex at all. No lady did. "I think he'll enjoy having you in his bed tonight. Will two silver be enough?" "Milady, I could pleasure almost a hundred men between now and dawn if I stayed here. I think ten silver is a fairer price." "Don't be ridiculous, girl. You won't be that busy. And not all of them will be paying the back rate. My husband would confine me to my chambers if he found out I'd paid you any more than four silver." Tecia guessed, from the weight of the purse, that she would easily be able to pay the girl ten silver pieces. Her husband would certainly never know or care what she paid. But the forms. Always the forms. Oira protested, "But the Festival of Trade is about to begin! Travelers will be in town from the entire Kingdom of Ellemal! If not a hundred, I will surely have much more custom than normal tonight. If I come for less than eight silver I'm robbing myself." "And you would work much harder than you will in my husband's bed tonight, I assure you. Six silver is much more than you would make tonight, and we both know it. And you will make it by servicing one man two or three times, rather than fifty of them." Oira tried to look glum, but failed. She knew she had just made much more money than she otherwise would have. She also knew she could look forward to a single man, silk sheets, a heated bath, airy breezes from open windows in a room two or three stories above street level -- she practically glowed with anticipation. Tecia dug in the purse, handed the prostitute six silver coins, and then offered her hand. The girl took it. Holding hands told any other customers that this girl was already spoken for. Together, they walked out of the common room. The House Mistress smiled when they came out. Tecia offered some expected remarks about how such a fine, noble girl should surely be a high prostitute, the mistress made non-committal noises that might have passed for agreement, and Oira handed the silver to the mistress. Tecia knew, from long experience hiring such girls, that the House would take a cut -- unless Oira had already paid her full rent for the day, but that was unlikely -- and put the rest in Oira's box in the silver room. Nobody ever stole from a prostitute. It was a funny business. Their clients treated them... well, treated them like whores. They were belittled, mocked, used in the most degrading fashions then cast aside like dirty rags, not allowed to wear clothes... And yet Oira was richer than Tecia. Tecia would never have any money of her own. Tecia couldn't have any property of her own. Tecia couldn't even make decisions of her own. Oira could have said yes or no to Tecia's offer, based only on what she wanted. Oira could have gotten up and walked out of the Night House to seek better custom elsewhere, and when she told the house mistress she was leaving, her box in the silver room would be turned over to her without question. Oira could look for a place where no randy men would notice her, and choose not to have sex at all if she wanted -- if she could find such a hiding place. Oira had something very close to freedom, except for the requirement that she spread her legs on the spot for any man who offered her the law's price. As they walked hand in hand down the street -- the naked prostitute and the noblewoman in her delicate, revealing dress -- Tecia pondered which of them truly outranked the other. When they found the manor, the guards were expecting them. But the reception was a bit more brusque than Tecia expected. One guard -- clad in a cuirass painted purple for Ilson's colors and tight pants and kilt of matching shade -- told Tecia, "The ladies are gathered in the evening room for tea. It's down the main hall to the very end. I'll take the plaything to Count Naywin's rooms." Tecia blinked. The guard should have offered to escort her to her husband's rooms, taken her and Oira there, and only once they were settled offered to escort her to the evening room. She might have expressed anger at the guard -- might have slapped him even. But she didn't know the situation. It might be that Ilson trained his people very poorly, in which case she'd be right to discipline him. But it might also be that Ilson was angry and the guards were acting as he wanted. If so, any stepping out of line from her would earn her discipline from her own husband. She watched Oira be led away, down a corridor that opened to the left off the main hall. Then she walked alone down to the end. No servant stood at the door to the evening room to open it for her. Growing more and more curious at the rudeness, she opened it herself and went in. Over the ensuing hours, Tecia discovered what she should have predicted from the beginning: the rudeness was her husband's fault. He should have known that Ilson would offer the pick of his harem. It was part of being the host, part of hospitality. But instead short-sighted, randy Bon Naywin had sent her out to hire a public woman, thereby implicitly rejecting Ilson's hospitality before he had offered it. The deep lapse in manners had set Count Naywin -- and by extension his wife -- on low social footing for the entire festival. Afternoon tea had become a trial of subtle humiliation for Tecia, and the evening meal not much better. When, finally, a servant showed her to her rooms, she could barely remain on her feet long enough for one of the Ilson handmaidens to undress her and robe her in a nightdress before she collapsed onto the bed. It was beautiful, soft, silken, and huge. In every way it let the guest know of House Ilson's wealth. But she was on the second floor, not on the fifth with the other ladies. She sighed. The day had turned out to be a nightmare. She looked out the window, which was open for the summer breeze. Her window was right next to a tree, obstructing any view she might have had of the city. Clearly, she'd been given the worst guest rooms. When she looked closer, she realized that the branch outside was quite thick, and it went back to a tree that... goodness! The tree grew outside the house wall. Why, any prowler from the street could climb up here! Giving her the worst guest room was expected, but having a room that was accessible to criminals? That was a faux pas on the part of House Ilson, and might lead the way to raising her standing by lowering Ilson's. Would she even be able to sleep, knowing that riffraff could easily get in or out? She gasped. In OR out. One could get out via that tree. The thought growing in her mind was the most scandalous one she had ever had. Go somewhere without her husband's permission? It was ridiculous, of course. The law was quite clear. She was not allowed, but that was only the beginning. A woman alone on the streets at night... no man would be faulted for assuming she was a prostitute. If she climbed out on that tree, why the lowest commoner on the street could simply hand her a couple copper coins and... Would that be so bad? She was so shocked by that quiet little voice in her head that she squealed aloud. She pulled a pillow over her head, ashamed to show her face even in an empty room. She'd always known that her body had wrong lusts, but she had NEVER imagined such a thing before. To actually DO what prostitutes do? Her mental debate lasted some time before she finally decided to do it. Sne ended up drinking the entire pitcher of water the servants had left in her room, trying to sooth a mouth dry with fear. But finally, she stripped naked -- that was, after all, how prostitutes dressed, and prostitutes were the only women one would find out alone at night -- and wormed her way out the window to sit on the ledge, with her feet on the tree branch. If anyone ever found out, her husband would probably abandon her and give guardianship of her to the King, making her a public woman. The night was colder than she expected, and she shivered. She thought of going back for some warmer clothes before she realized how ridiculous that was. She was naked, and she had to be naked for this to work. She peered around. No one was in sight, none of the other windows in Ilson manor had light showing through them. Everyone was asleep. No one would know. She climbed out to put her full weight on the branch. It swayed dangerously, and she swayed with it. Before she could fall, though, she reached out to put her hands on the wall of the manor, steadying herself. Then she found another branch, above the one she stood on, that she could grab for support. Holding it, she carefully moved her feet along the lower branch, suspended in mid air over the grass between the manor and the wall, until she was over the wall. She got scratched slightly by twigs when she reached the tree, but it was at least stable. Then she shimmied down the trunk. Teamora For a moment she simply stood there. Naked. In a public place. Where her husband had never said she could go. In the eyes of anyone who saw her, she would be a whore. And the law would not even criticize a man for anything he did to her now, as long as he paid her the law's price. Trying her hardest to be calm, she walked down the street to the west. It was hard. She felt as she'd felt at her first Offering Ball -- like every eye nearby was staring at her. She felt her plump, round breasts bounce slightly with every step. Her nipples stiffened, and not just from the chill air. Moonlight on the graceful curves of her figure left a curvaceous, alluring shadow walking beside her. Even though no one was nearby, the urge to bring her hands up to cover her breasts and flower was almost too strong to resist. She shouldn't let anyone see! But prostitutes didn't do that. They walked tall and proud like this. They wanted men to see and pay. With an effort of will, she kept her hands at her sides as she walked past Ilson manor, past some other noble house's city manor, past manor after manor. The manors grew smaller and smaller, until they were large but ordinary homes, of the kind owned by merchants or bankers or mercenaries. Her schooling and upbringing began to reassert themselves. "You had your fun," said the voice of reason in her head. "Turn back now. Go back to your rooms, fiddle yourself to the memory, and stop while you still can." Reluctantly, her feet agreed with the voice in her head. It was night, no one was out. She wasn't going to find what she came out here for anyway, she might as well get back within the bounds of polite society -- back within the bounds of the law. She turned around and started walking back. "Aye, m'little plaything. Hired fer th' night an' sent out b'fore dawn, eh? Mus' nota served the Lords well. But I's not so choosy as them." She stared with horror at the drunken man who'd stumbled around the corner. His laborer's leather clothes were disheveled and stained with ale. His brown hair was mussed, and he had a scar on his cheek. Then he reached her. Drunkenly, he embraced her in a way that almost felt like he'd fallen and she caught him. He kissed her lips roughly, brown beard scratchy and uncomfortable against her lips, and his hand groped her breast hard. He pulled away -- it was more like getting to his feet -- and pressed four coppers into her palm. "C'mere. I've got a servan's cottage round back here." He tugged her by the hand through the gate of one of the middling homes and led her around past windows still lighted. Tecia was horrified to look into one and see a three men at a table, playing cards. They were dressed like bankers or well-to-do merchants. But they didn't even notice the servant pulling her past. Who cared what the staff did after hours? The man tugged her through the door of a rude hut in the back of the main home. Tecia was still too shocked to do anything but let herself be dragged along. Her mouth hung open, and her mind wasn't even processing what was happening. The hut had only one room, with a small table, one chair, and a small bed against the wall. Clearly the man was a groundskeeper or some such. A servant not worthy of quartering in the main house. He threw her to the straw bed -- pointy individual straws poked her in places she wasn't used to being poked. That brought Tecia out of her shock. She got back to her feet, saying "No, wait, you don't understand-" But the man had tugged his trousers off. She stared. In the dim light of flickering candles, she beheld his member, erect and proud, eager. She had never seen one before. Even when her husband had done this with her, the lights had been off. And the bed had been so much softer. The man pushed her back down and climbed atop her, kissing her again, his hands going to her breasts. He was too drunk, his aim was off. His first attempt to enter her poked her instead, uncomfortably. He reached down to guide himself, and Tecia gasped. In one rough thrust, the man's member plunged into her. She'd been so wet all night, penetration was easy. He began to thrust inside her, shoving himself deep in and drawing back quickly. Tecia was numb with shock. As of this moment, she was no longer a faithful wife. Her husband had every grounds to abandon her by law, and turn her over to the King. The moment he knew what had happened, she would become a prostitute. The lout's kisses and crude fondling did nothing for her. She felt nothing. She could only picture herself losing everything she had ever had. All the status, all the privileges -- they were gone at one single word spoken wrong. It wasn't long at all before the ruffian groaned loudly and pushed especially hard into her -- so hard it hurt. Then he went slack, and she knew -- remembered from the way her husband had been -- that this man had planted his seed in her. A commoner -- a low, drunken one, at that -- had seeded her. It wasn't the most productive time of month, but it was still possible that she could wind up with a commoner's whelp in her belly. After a moment or two, he rolled off her. And shortly after that, she heard him snore. It was over. Only then did any pleasure come to her. With the act over and done with, with her shock gone, Tecia began to process what had happened. She'd made love again! Well, not made love. She'd been stuffed. But she'd done it! Her whole body suddenly felt good. Her wet flower burned with arousal. She clambered out of the hideous straw bed and bounced on her toes, thrilled from head to foot. Blood coursed hot through her veins, and she reached down between her legs to stroke the dewy petals of her sex. But she stopped before she made too much progress, wanting to save it, wanting to get back to her rooms and enjoy the memory properly. She actually skipped to the door of the hut, happier than she could remember being. She opened the door to leave, then stopped and turned back. She collected the four copper coins -- the law's price, nothing more -- from where she'd dropped them on the floor. Only then did she leave, skipping out of the yard and humming to herself. She ached between the legs from rough use, but she skipped anyway, she was so happy. When she walked out the front gate of the house, she ran headlong into a group of four men. She was moving so fast she was literally in the arms of the first one when they collided. He looked startled at first, then laughed. "Look here, lads. We're so fine the whores run right to us, we don't have to go looking for them!" The other men laughed, and Tecia blushed Their leader smiled at her. He had short blond hair, a much-better trimmed beard than her last lover, and the strong muscles of a man who did manual labor. "Just finished work, have you, little plaything?" he asked. He reached between her legs to touch the sticky, wet mess there. "Looks like it. Well, you're not quite done for the night dearie. Our masters have given us the night off, and we're keen to spend it having fun. Come along back to the house with us." She was so thrilled by the last encounter, she didn't even resist this time. She did experience a moment of fear as they dragged her back to the manor district. Might they work for Ilson? But she breathed easier when they passed his manor. Instead they led her through the gates of a much grander one, and passed around to the side, to the servants' entrance. They dragged her down the hall to a room, and pulled her in. It was as cramped as the hut she'd just been in, without even the table and chair. But the bed was larger, and at least had a sheet. "What's your name, plaything?" one of them asked as he tugged down his pants. "I'm Te-" she stopped. Giving her real name seemed very bad. "I'm Teamora." As the men undressed, their leader said, "Alright, let's figure out how much we can afford, boys. I've got four copper -- enough to stuff her myself. But I can't afford to cover any of you." A second said, "I've got ten copper, but I'm using 'em all for me. I know what I want from her." The others grinned, and one said, "Wait, we're sharing her between the four of us, so it's share prices. You only need five coppers, Genal." "Oh yeah. Thank the gods!" "Good," said the fourth, "Because I've only got a copper. Couldn't even afford the mouth on my own." Tecia wasn't really following all this. She didn't know about share prices -- she'd never had to hire a girl to be shared by her husband and another man, he could always afford whatever he wanted. But when the fourth one mentioned her mouth, she blanched. She had never... never even considered... that wasn't part of her plan! Only whores did that! "Well, what do you think you are?" asked the little voice in her head. With mounting horror, she felt them pushing her onto the bed, but not fully. They bent her over a corner of it, with her rump up on offer at one end, and her head hanging over the other. She heard the clink of coins tossed onto the bed. Before she was even ready, one of them -- she couldn't tell which, since she wasn't looking over her shoulder -- pulled her cheeks apart and plunged into her flower. She gasped as he went in all the way in one stroke. As she tried to adjust to the strong thrusting inside her, one of the other men stepped in front of her and got down to his knees, bringing his staff level with her eyes. He tossed another copper onto the bed, pulled her head up by the hair, and rubbed the tip of it against her lips. "Suck it, Teamora," he said to her. At first she didn't open her mouth. She didn't want to... she couldn't! No Lady would! But no whore would refuse. What would happen if they found out who she really was? They would still do this to her -- she'd been naked on the street at night, they were justified in treating her like a whore regardless -- but they'd know she was really a noblewoman. Reluctantly, she wrapped her lips around the staff. It felt so strange in her mouth -- hard, yet soft and smooth. It tasted sweaty, and smelled that way. The man behind her gave a powerful thrust into her, and Tecia found her head pushed forward, onto the staff she was sucking. It slid deeper into her mouth, to her throat, and she fought back the urge to gag and lose her stomach. Shocked, she realized the man was thrusting back and forth in her mouth, just as the man behind her was thrusting back and forth in her flower. Then the man behind her wasn't thrusting anymore. He pulled out of her, and Tecia assumed he must have planted his seed in her. But then she felt hot, sticky, heavy liquid splashing on her rump, dribbling down the cleft between her cheeks, to her flower. "Aw, Tul, why'd you have to go and make her sloppy for us?" one of the voices asked. "I did that for Genal. If he wants to backstuff her, he'll need something to get her wet before he does." Tecia lost the thread of the conversation after that. Backstuff?! No, no no! This had gone too far. No! She wasn't going to let anyone do that to her, let alone some servant lout. Absolutely not. She tried to back off the staff in her mouth, but the man gripped her hair and held her in place. Even as she struggled, she felt the head of a staff placed against her rear opening. She struggled harder, trying to pull her rump away. "Huh? What's wrong with her?" one of the men asked. Tecia felt lips brush against her ear. "Listen, whore. I've paid." Then she heard the clinks of five copper coins being dropped onto the bed beside her ear. Then he shoved himself into her anus. It hurt! Tecia squirmed, trying to get off the pole impaling her, and Genal spanked a cheek of her rump. "Settle down, Teamora! It's always a little uncomfortable. Don't act like you're not used to it by now, you've clearly seen more than eighteen summers." He pushed in farther, stretching her open, the burning sensation seeming to blank out everything else in her mind. She didn't know that the seed of the previous man was lubricating her and making this easier than it otherwise would have been. All she knew was that it hurt. Then the man in front of her took his staff out of her mouth. Tecia was past caring. She wailed when her mouth was empty, finally able to express the pain of her first backstuffing, but cut off in the middle when she felt warm, gooey fluid splatter on her cheek. She realized that the man had planted his seed all over her face. The thought mortified her. Bad enough to act like a whore, but now she had the evidence of it all over, where anyone could see! But she'd never thought about mouth sex before, and now that she did, she thought that on her face was better than the alternative. The idea of that in her mouth... But some did splatter into her open mouth, and Tecia's eyes crossed at the salty, bitter taste. The man tapped upward gently on the bottom of her jaw to close it, and then said, "I like to see girls swallow it." As Genal rammed her painfully from the back, she did as instructed almost without thinking, and only once she had done it did she realize what she'd done. She had a man's seed in her stomach now... Her education about sex from her mother had consisted of the following words: "Your husband will put his member inside your flower until he plants his seed in you. Enough of that and you will be with child. Only prostitutes do it any other way, so you won't have to worry about anything else." Thus, Tecia found herself worrying whether this could lead to pregnancy, and if so if it would make a difference that the seed went in the wrong way. Another thrust of Genal's interrupted that line of thought. The sting coursed through her, and she moaned, "Oh please..." She'd meant to say, "Oh please stop," but the pain of another thrust took her breath away. The men chuckled. "She wants more. Better give it to her!" At that, another man knelt in front of her head, and pushed his staff into her open mouth. So much of her mind was concentrating on the pain of being backstuffed for the first time that she wasn't really even paying attention to the man in front of her. She sucked him without really meaning to. Mostly she let him generate his own friction by pushing back and forth over her tongue. As Genal's pounding went on and on, Tecia found herself finally getting past the discomfort. Had it ever REALLY felt so bad she wanted to die? It hurt, yes, but it was bearable... Then his next thrust changed all that as he rammed her so hard her eyes bugged out and she coughed out the staff in her mouth. He groaned heavily behind her, and stopped moving, When the man in front of her reinserted, Genal pulled out. It still ached, but she found that she could actually think now. And what she found herself thinking was, "Well, you wanted what whores get, and now you've gotten it. This backstuffing you hated so much? Well its exactly what you hired that other girl to do for your husband, and you didn't care how much she would like it. Welcome to a whore's world." Since she'd been busy thinking instead of paying attention to what was happening, it came as a bit of a surprise when she suddenly felt a flood of steamy, bitter fluid on her tongue. The taste was very similar to the last man whose seed she had tasted, but stronger and more bitter. It was so unpleasant Tecia swallowed right away to get rid of it, even though the man wasn't even fully finished. And yet... it was the taste of excitement. It was the taste of pleasure. It was the taste of SEX! It was the taste of what she'd wanted for years. The man pulled out of her while still spraying, and a streamer of seed landed on Tecia's chin and hung there. Tecia felt almost wrong somehow. There was no staff in her mouth, and none in her rump. She'd become accustomed to feeling simply FULL of manhood. She wiggled her rump and cooed, hoping to attract more, but the only response was some laughter behind her. One of the men said, "We're spent, Teamora. No more money for you." When she thought about it, she was amazed to discover that she regretted that it was over. Her rump still hurt, but it was bearable. She found herself excited. She rolled over from being bent over the bed, and tried to sit up. But the stab of pain when she put weight on her rump rolled her over to her side. Then she chanced to glance out the window. The first shades of purple were invading the black sky. Dawn had started its inevitable march. "It's a long walk back to... back to Peach Spice," she said, naming the only Night House she knew in this town. She traced a curtsy, even without clothing on. "Thank you for allowing me to serve." The men all waved to her. "Come back and see us again, Teamora. We'll give you as much as we can afford," one of them said. In the first act of the night that actually made her angry, one of the men offered her a purse to carry all her coins in, but only if she paid two coppers for it. She paid, though -- with the only money of her own that she'd ever had in her life -- because carrying the coins in her hand would have made it harder to climb the tree that would let her back in to Ilson manor. Tecia scurried out of the room, down the hall, and out the door of the servants' quarters. All was silent -- everyone was asleep. Once she was out of that manor and back on the street, all the thrill and excitement she'd felt toward the end melted away like sugar in rain. The chill of the night air was reality, and Tecia felt nothing but a combination of abject terror of anyone realizing what she had done, and utterest embarrassment that she had not only done it by choice, she had liked it. On the street, she ran as fast as she could for Ilson manor. Fortunately, she'd paid attention to the route when the men had led her to the manor where they worked. She found her tree, and worked her way back up it. It was MUCH harder than getting down had been. But eventually she made it back to her open window, and clambered inside. She hid the purse under her bed and scurried to the bathing chamber door for the pitcher of water there. She had to get cleaned up fast, before a handmaiden showed up to wake her. But the pitcher was empty -- she'd drank all the water before going out. Tecia ran to her chamber door as fast as her sore rump would let her. She had to find some water to wash her face, and quickly! Dawn was not far off, and the handmaiden would be around soon to wake her for her bath. She couldn't let the girl see her like this! Tecia eased open the door and looked down the hall. Empty. She poked her head out further, and the corridor was empty in that direction too. She stepped out into the hall, to head for the stairs and thence to the kitchen. They were bound to have water in the kitchen. She reached the staircase just as another woman came down from above. They met face to face. At first, Tecia almost thought she stood before a looking glass, the other woman looked so much like her. But then she remembered that, if it was a looking glass, the reflection would also have a man's seed drying on her face. She realized with horror that this was Oira, the girl she'd hired for her husband. Oira looked at the seed all over her and made the wrong guess at first. "On your way back to the harem, eh? Wish I could come with you, instead of going back to the Peach. It's a long..." She trailed off and stared. "La... Lady... Lady Nay... oh gods! What in all the hells...?" Tecia saw no alternative. She fell to her knees, clutched Oira's hand in hers, and begged. "Please! Please don't tell, Oira! Please! I'll do anything you ask, but please don't tell." Above her, Oira stared down. "Gods above, it's really Lady Naywin. Lady Naywin's been doing a whore's work. Quite a bit of it, by the look of it." "PLEASE, Oira! Please! I will do anything for you if you'll keep this secret. You want to be in Ilson's harem? I'll make it happen. You want me to lie and get you work as a High Prostitute? I will. Please!" Teamora Oira giggled. "Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine having a lady begging me. I can't think what to do." She paused for another giggle. "If I can even still call you a lady." Tecia rose to her feet. "You can if you help me keep this a secret. You could get a lot out of life by having a noblewoman helping you." Oira grinned at her. "First, hide me in your room for today. I want time to think of what's possible." "Yes! Yes, definitely. We can make that happen. But I must get cleaned up before the handmaiden comes around to wake me." "Show me your room. I'll hide in there. You go on down to the kitchen and clean up." Tecia almost bristled. The whore was giving her orders? But then it finally sunk in, exactly how things stood. She adopted the downcast eyes she'd seen so many whores wear when looking at her. "As you say." Teshia found fresh water in the kitchen and frantically washed her face and her flower while brewing some tea to share with Oira. She rushed the cleaning and the brewing, then scurried back out of the room. As she did, she heard voices outside the door on the far side -- the cooks arriving to relight their cookfires. She was just in time. She made her way back to her room. Closing the door behind her, she found Oira sitting on the open window sill. "I see what happened," the girl said, waving behind her toward the tree branch. "You went out into the night and naturally some men took you for a whore." "May I offer you some tea?" Oira smiled when she realized Tecia was going to observe the necessities, and accepted the tea. She took a sip and grimaced. "You didn't do much of a job." Tecia fought back the rage that threatened to rise at Oira's effrontery. "I was a bit rushed." The prostitute giggled. "I imagine. So, tell me, why did you go out in the night?" Tecia shrugged. "I don't know." Oira shook her head. "Come now. Aren't you going to 'do anything for me'?" She added, almost as an afterthought, "If I don't tell your husband, that is. So let's hear the true answer." Tecia took a deep breath, flushed bright red in her cheeks, and summoned the courage to talk about it. "I... I know ladies never want this. I guess I'm a bad noblewoman. But... well... I wanted to get stuffed." Oira's eyebrows went up. "So you actually WANTED what happened?" Then she giggled. "You like it." Flushing thoroughly red, Tecia nodded, then came over to sit on the bed in front of Oira, who was still on the windowsill. "What am I going to do?" Oira patted her head. "For now, I'll hide under the bed until the handmaiden comes. When she comes to wake you, send her for water for a hot bath. Once she's poured it, she'll go away until you call, and I'll come sit with you and we'll talk about the future." The first day, nothing happened. Oira spent the time hiding in Tecia's bedchamber, and Tecia went on about her life. But at night, Oira gave her no choice: Tecia went outside again. Or rather, Teamora did. She used that as her name when she was pretending to be a public woman. She had a harder time finding custom, so far from the market district, but still she managed to get stuffed a couple times. It was hard to admit it to Oira, but she came back disappointed. She had wanted more. But the next day, Oira had a different idea. She made Tecia hide under the bed in the morning. When the handmaiden came in, she simply dressed Oira instead of Tecia, all the while bowing, scraping, averting her eyes and deferring to "Lady Naywin." Apparently, the resemblance between the two was even stronger than Tecia had believed. She'd first hired the whore because they looked alike, and Lady Naywin knew her husband enjoyed girls who looked like her. But to actually have the whore taken for her... she wanted to get out from under the bed and slap the handmaiden. That night, Oira didn't even have to confront her about it. Tecia went willingly into the night, and came back in the same state she had on her first night out. When she clambered back into the room in the pre-dawn hours, Oira explained the future to her. "You can stay here long enough to talk to me," the whore -- former whore -- explained. "But then you need to be gone before dawn." Tecia gasped and sputtered. "What? Don't be silly, girl, I have to bathe, I have to dress, I have to prepare myself for..." "Whores don't dress," Oira replied, cutting her off. "And they bathe in night houses." "I am not a..." "Yes you are." Tecia stared. Her mouth hung open and she simply stared at the girl she had hired three days ago. What the girl was suggesting... "Forever?" The word trembled out of Tecia's quivering lips. "Well, until you get too old to make money at it anymore. Then you'll retire. Maybe along the way you'll make enough money to become a night house mistress..." Tecia didn't say anything, so Oira made it clear. "I got used to everyone calling me 'Lady Naywin' yesterday. It wasn't any harder to pretend than I thought it would be. If I didn't understand some point of etiquette, I just kept my mouth shut and people assumed I was just stupid. No one would ever even conceive of the idea that I wasn't a noble. So I'll just become Lady Naywin. You can go back and be Oira. After all, you seem to like the life. Why would you even resist?" "But..." The former public woman wouldn't let her finish. "But nothing, 'Oira.' Get back to Peach Spice before someone realizes you're still here after the man who hired you sent you away days ago." Tecia wasn't so easily deterred, however. "But the only reason I've been letting you give commands these last few days is to keep you from telling my husband, because he'd turn me away and make me a whore if he knew. If you send me off to be a whore anyway, I've got no reason to listen to you anymore." Oira nodded. "Technically, that's true. I thought about that today while I was riding with Ladies Ilson and Everso. But here's why you'll listen anyway: "You're a prostitute now, whatever you do. If you go along with my plan, then I take your place, you take mine, and we both live happily ever after. If you won't go along with it, I'll just tell your husband. I lose nothing, after all. As Oira, I'm already a ward of the King. I can't fall lower than that. "But you'll quickly become a ward of the King when your husband doesn't want you anymore. AND you'll have to endure the very unpleasant confrontation that would come along with him finding out. Either way, you're at Peach Spice tomorrow, taking care of merchants' guards and the rest of the mob that's in town this week for the festival. "Your way, I'm there with you, and that's your only consolation. My way, you avoid being screamed at by your husband and being humiliated in front of the Ilsons and all their other guests. Plus, your son back at Naywin Keep still has a mother, and doesn't have to deal with the idea that his mother is now a prostitute. If I know anything about how nobles raise their children, he'll never know the difference. He's probably seen a hired matron far more than he's ever seen you." Tecia sat through the whole speech in silence, realizing that Oira was correct in all points. "You would really do that? Give my secret away even though you got nothing from it? Just to destroy me?" "But you see," Oira replied, "I do get something from it. By being willing to do that -- and I am -- I can convince you to let me stay here and become Lady Naywin." The whore -- former whore -- paused and smiled at the new whore. "So, Oira, best head on back to Peach Spice. My husband enjoyed your company, but he has a girl from Ilson's harem to keep him entertained now." The former noblewoman dropped the outline of a curtsey without a dress to tug at, and then met her replacement's eyes one last time before she climbed out the window into the night. As she left she said, "Don't call me Oira. My name is Teamora."