The Folded Lily, Chapter Four

Tags: Plot, Prostitution, F/M, Oral (Throat Fucking).

	When I came to the sun was rising, though the sky looked hazy for all the smoke. I tried moving but was met with a flash of pain from the still-tender bump on my head. I groaned, raspy, and someone, I couldn't quite see, what with my lack of glasses, handed me a glass of water. I hissed my thanks and drank, the cool liquid quenching the thirst I hadn't even known I had. I felt something delicate and metallic pressed gently into my hands. My glasses. Smiling in thanks to the helpful blur, I slipped them onto my face.
	My helper was revealed to be Madam Tidlaw. She looked rough, with her hair out of her usual bun and a large bruise on her neck where the sirian had choked her. Her clothes were dirty, which I only supposed was natural, considering what we had all been through the night before. “How’s the girl?” I asked hesitantly, slightly ashamed that I didn’t even know her name.
	Madam Tidlaw’s eyes grew soft and she sighed. “Sleeping, the poor dear,” she said sadly, “watching her brother die and then that awful beast forcing itself on her.” Suddenly she smiled at me and she was transformed from the stern old woman she was into someone else; someone kind and warm. She grasped my shoulder tightly and whispered: “But you saved us; you were so brave.” She released my shoulder and leaned back, still smiling. “I had been wrong about you, Lucia, I had judged you without knowing you and for that I apologize.” She reached behind her and brought forward my knife, cleaned and in its sheath, and handed it to me.
	“D-d’you know where Keaton and Aine are?” I asked, setting the knife down in my lap. 
	“They’re talking to the caravan leader,” she said, patting my knee, “seeing about getting us moving again.” She grinned. “Neither of them wanted to leave your side, your young man, especially.”
	I smiled and blushed but I didn’t correct her; I knew now, Keaton wasn’t my man. 
	He was Aine’s.
	“Do we have a fire going?” She raised an eyebrow in question but nodded and I handed her my little pouch of contraceptive. “Can you steep that in a cup of hot water and bring it here? I’ll need to drink it.”
	She opened the pouch, revealing the herbs, and nodded. If she knew what they were for she never said anything; she just moved away to accomplish her task.
	Left alone, I peered down at my knife, trying to ignore the dull throb in my head. I didn’t feel like a hero; I felt like a stupid bitch; a silly girl who had no idea what she had been getting herself into when she set foot outside her village. Now I had had sex; stabbed an eight foot tall monster; nearly been raped and killed-
	“And survived,” said a male’s voice, interrupting my thoughts. 
	I looked up and saw Keaton approaching with Aine. They both looked weary from last night but, somehow, still alert, still ready to fight should they have to. “We know that look,” said Aine, pulling a box from an overturned wagon up to sit on while Keaton leaned against her.
	“Stop doubting yourself,” said Keaton. I noticed that his quiver was nearly empty. “You did what you had to do and you lived. That’s more than many could say of their first melee.”
	I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have even been involved. I have no training. No real desire for adventure. I just want a quiet life with a man who loves me and a few children. I shouldn’t have ever left my village. I don’t belong out here.”
Keaton sighed. “I understand that, I really do.” I snorted and he frowned. “I’m serious. Do you think I just popped out of my mom with the skills I have? No, my experiences in life have made me who I am. My life hasn’t always been happy, but it has been my life and I wouldn’t change that because that would mean changing me.” 
	I went silent for a while and Madam Tidlaw approached, steaming cup in her hands. Kneeling, she passed it to me and I thanked her softly before she left. I snorted and smiled wryly to myself; now she was trying to give me privacy? I looked into the cup and swirled the green, murky tea around.
	It smelt awful.
	Plugging my nose, I downed the liquid with a shudder, and set the cup off to the side, sighing as I felt the warmth in my belly. 
	Aine tilted her head. “Was that th-”
	I nodded. 
	“Why did you wait so long?” asked Keaton, a slight flush on his cheeks. “You had all day yesterday to brew that up.”
	I blushed a bit and grinned at him. “I was thinking about Aine’s offer.”
	His eyes widened and Aine nearly fell out of her seat with how hard she was laughing. “Do y’hear that, Katie? She would have had your brats for you! You must’ve made quite the impression!”
	He spluttered a bit and I huffed at them. “Oh hush, I barely even considered it!”

	I had been a few hours before we were ready to depart. When we had started the trip we had had over a dozen different wagons, not counting all our guards, but now, I thought dismally, we were down to a mere seven. Seven carts holding the injured while our surviving guards walked alongside us, weapons drawn and on the lookout for more sirians. I was sitting in a cart with Madam Tidlaw and the girl from the night before, her head resting in the old woman’s lap while she slept fitfully. 
Keaton and Aine had made it a matter of importance to visit me often and I took the chance to ask some questions.

	I leaned over the side of the wagon, poked Keaton on the arm, and whispered: “So what happened yesterday?”
	He frowned. “You were there, Lu; you know what happened.” He put his hand on my forehead, checking for fever. “Are you okay?”
	I frowned right back at him and swatted his hand away. “You know what I mean. You said you had killed the majority and routed the rest. How were they able to attack us?”
	Keaton sighed and crossed his arms. “Magic,” he sighed, “we hadn’t expected them to have one of their shamans with them. The bitch used a spell to weave an illusion. It hid their true numbers and covered their retreat.” 
	I frowned. “One person can do that? Use magic to cover an entire company?”
	He nodded grimly. “Wizards are rare and powerful ones are even more so. They’ve spent their entire lives studying their craft so they’re incredibly wise; there’s a reason that the King uses an entire house of them as advisors.”
	I scratched my cheek. “The Head’s son is one,” I said, “I felt two of his spells last night.”
	Keaton shook his head. “No he’s not. He’s a mage.”
	I frowned at him in confusion; I had never heard that word before.
	“There’s a difference between a mage and a wizard: A mage can cast spells, sure; just like a shaman and even a cleric or a professional bard, but they don’t have the adaptability of a wizard.” Seeing my continued confusion he said: “A mage could make an explosion, but so can a wizard; and afterwards he can summon water to douse the flames and then grow new grass and trees to replace those he burnt down.” He sighed and smiled tiredly at me. “I’m probably not doing too good a job explaining this.”
	I smiled at him. I understood a bit; a wizard wasn’t as limited in their arsenal as another spellcaster and had more options on how to handle a situation. They’d be unpredictable in a fight. “So a mage can only make explosions,” I asked, “or can they only do one or two types of magic?”
	“The second one,” said Keaton, “I’ve never met an actual wizard but I have known a few spellcasters. They each seem to have their own specialty that they excel in, but that’s it. No more, no less.”
	We were silent for a while, the only sounds were the rocking of the wagon and the moans of  the injured.
	I did my best to block those out; a healer, I was not.
	“How did you sleep?” asked Keaton. “That was a pretty nasty bump you got.”
	I absently felt the back of my head where a tender knot still remained. “Fine, I guess; I had a pretty strange dream.”
	Keaton raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, what about?” 
	I frowned and tried to recall the details. It had been dark and strange things twisted in an out of form, whispering things to me. But what had they said? I don’t think they had even spoken my language. “I-I don’t remember. I had seemed so vivid at the time but now…” 
	Keaton simply smiled reassuringly at me and patted my shoulder. With a word of farewell he departed to make another round.

	The sun crept along the sky at what seemed a snail’s pace. We hadn’t stopped for food, wanting to be within Lux Aetorum’s walls before nightfall, so onwards we pressed, the vast, rolling Plains of Kannid stretched out before us. I sat in silence and had taken to playing with my dagger to take my mind off my situation. I was a mess. I was covered in blood and dirt and, no matter what Keaton or Aine said, I couldn’t help but wish that things were different; that mom was still alive, really that either of my parents were still alive, that I had never left my village. I even wished that I had accepted Adam’s offer and become one of his whores. Anything so I wouldn’t have to face the uncertainty of my future. It was like a long and winding road with dozens of paths all shrouded in mist. I walked forward blindly; groping for something solid.
	Something real.
	I wanted something to call my own but I just didn’t know how to get it. I was an experienced ranch-hand and I knew how to cook and sew. I wasn’t half-bad at my job back at the tavern. I’d have to find a place tonight to avoid sleeping in the streets. I quickly counted out my money and I hissed quietly to myself; a single silver bit and nine copper pieces. Barely enough for a bedroll back home and a crusty loaf of bread.
	Stuffing my money away, I tried to plan my actions. I had no jewelry to pawn, having already sold it to pay off mom and dad’s debts, and no great talents to speak of. I’d need a job first thing. I looked up at the sky. The sun was high and well into its Western descent when Aine approached my cart, a hand raised in greeting. 
	“Hail!” she said tiredly.
	I smiled at her and we walked in comfortable silence for a while. Eventually, though, I asked something I had been wondering since I had met Keaton: “So what do you two plan on doing when you get to the capital?”
Aine looked surprised, as though her answer should be obvious and I was being silly for asking. "You've never heard of Dwellarin?"
I shook my head; the word sounded foreign to me.
	Aine thought for a moment. "Do you remember the great earthquake?"
	I blinked. I remembered reading a bit about it in my father's journal. It had happened before I was born. People called it the Rift. Without warning the ground shook violently; it toppled buildings and caused tidal waves. My father had seemed excited for some reason but he never wrote much about it. I had never asked mom; it had always pained her to talk of father. "What does that have to do with this Dwellarin?"
	Aine grinned. "Dwellarin," she said with an air like a schoolteacher, "is a ruin that had been uncovered in the aftermath of the Rift. It's entrance is in the Old District of the capital city and it extends deep down into the earth." She paused and worked a kink out of her shoulder, her armor clanking with the motion. "The King sent in a team of explorers but they never came out. He established a new guild, the first since his grandfather's reign, and now people go in seeking fortune."
	I felt a sinking in my stomach. "And that's what you two are doing?"
	Heedless of my tone, which was not at all enthusiastic, she answered with an excited: " Yep!"
	I smiled for her as she went off with a wave but as soon as she turned out of sight I sank into worry. I had been hoping that they'd stick around for a while; it'd make me feel safer while I tried to establish myself. Now, though, I knew that I wouldn't have any such safety net. They'd be diving into danger first thing and I'll be doing laundry or cooking or waiting tables.
Would this really be the last time I saw them?
	I wondered why that bothered me so much. For all intents and purposes I had only known them for a few days. Those two had a strange ability to work their way into your heart; or knickers, I thought with a grin, that made it seem as though I had known them my entire life.
	Was that it? Was it the sex?
	It had been great, a wild ride, even, I could understand that now. But I don't think that it was that simple. Maybe I had fallen in love with them? Just a little bit. Their confidence in themselves and each other had drawn me in like a moth to a torch. I wanted that. 
	I want to know who I am and who I can become. Once more I thought back to all those paths I could follow, a confusing series of forks and roundabouts that led who-knew-where.
	Keaton and Aine knew exactly where they were headed. 
	I looked up from my musings when I heard a collective sigh issue from the caravan. There, in the distance, the light from the setting sun behind it like a beacon, was the capital, Lux Aetorum.
	We had made it.

	The walls of the capital were tall and strong. They were made from rock mined from Hammerstroke Quarry and ringed the entire city. It was a stern-looking wall. Gray and nearly twenty feet thick and strengthened more so by old spells woven into the mortar.
	At least that's what my father's journal told me.
	The only way through was by means of the four gates set at the four cardinal points. As we had been traveling east that was the gate we approached.
	And also the gate they stopped us at.

	We had been sitting for an hour while Dale argued with the gate guard and the sky was more red and purple than blue and orange. The injured and weary were all growing restless, the guards shifting uncomfortably in their armor. 
	I was as well.
	I adjusted the straps of my pack and stood. I checked my knife, ensuring that it was secure and wouldn't fall off, and hopped down to the ground with a little huff, kicking up a small cloud of road dust. 
	“Child?” said Madam Tidlaw tiredly, making to move the still-sleeping girl and follow me.
	I waved her down and smiled at her, which she returned as she slowly sank to the bench with a small, thankful-sounding groan.
	I took off at a brisk trot, my hair occasionally pulling on my tender lump as it bounced. It only took me moments to make it to the front of the caravan. I saw Dale arguing with a single guard. The man was probably an inch or so under six feet tall with blond hair and tan skin, most likely, I thought, from standing outside all day rather than through natural pigmentation. He was a stalwart-looking man with a spear in one hand, a lantern hanging off a hook near the tip, and a shield strapped to the other arm. He wore chainmail and had a breastplate of iron. He wore padded leather breeches and boots with overlapping plates of metal. He looked annoyed and stuck a careless pinky in his ear, cleaning it as Dale tried to reason with him.
	“I’ve told you before, I’m Dale Wilsur. I have the writs, so why won’t you let us in?”
	“How do I know you’re really Dale Wilsur?” he asked, and to my ears I could detect a bit of laughter his voice. “Besides,” he said, “these writs are for fourteen carts, you’ve got half that.”
	“Just like I said, Ser,” said Dale, a little redness gathering on the back of his neck, “we were attacked on the way. Sirians. If you don’t believe us then you should see the pile of corpses we burnt on the side of the road!”
	The man grinned nastily. “Convenient,” he said, wetting his lips, “that these so-called sirians are all unrecognizable now, eh? Mayhaps you’re all bandits that waylaid poor Master Dale and you’re impersonating him. More’n my job’s worth to let questionable folk into his Majesty’s city.”
	Dale sputtered at the accusation and I frowned. Surely he couldn’t be serious? I stepped forward. “Excuse me, Ser,” I said, “but it’s all true; we really were assaulted by sirians; we have injured people with us, surely you can see that.”
	“And who are you, girl?” he said, frowning heavily, his eyes lingering on the blood staining my sleeves.
	Dale smiled at me. “She’s the one that warned me of the attack. Without that extra time a lot more people would’ve died.”
	I felt that this might be an exaggeration as his son’s explosion caught his attention more effectively than my own warnings. Still, if it gave my opinion more weight with this bull-headed guardsman then I wouldn’t argue. 
	“How,” he said with a sneer, “exactly would you have known about this alleged attack?”
	I was really starting to not like this man. “I was on my way to see a couple of my friends, they’re mercenaries hired by Master Dale, y’see, and one of the other guards stumbled into camp. He delivered the warning and then, well, he died. The others started grabbing weapons and one told me to find Dale and get the caravan moving and…” I trailed off, gesturing to the Head Caravaner, “…he probably told you the rest.”
	He snorted and wiped his nose with a finger before spitting on the ground. “Look, like I said, your story is suspect. Injured people or not, I can’t let you in until I’m satisfied you’re not a danger to the citizens inside.” He grinned at Dale and then at me. “Of course if you were to make a, well let’s say ‘charitable donation,’ that might prove your intentions.” He let that sink in for a moment, “Let’s say five golden chips; just give the coin to me and I’ll make sure it gets to the right people.”
	Oh, this smarmy mother fu-
	“I don’t have that,” said Dale, looking extremely uncomfortable, “I won’t get my pay until I get these people into the city.”
	The guard looked at me; I shook my head. “Then we have a problem,” he said simply, “no money; no identification; and no way into the city.” 
	I scowled at him and I caught his eyes wandering over my body, making me shiver; if I wasn’t already in need of a bath then I’d want one now.
	Suddenly he smiled at me and I was thrown off guard by the sudden change. “Of course the lass could come with me. I’d like to ask her some more questions in the guardhouse away from people who might influence her version of the story.”
	I had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t questions that the guard was interested in. Master Dale must’ve come to the same realization because his face went red and he spluttered: “Really, Ser, I hardly think that’s appropriate!”
	“What?” he said innocently. “She comes with me, answers a few questions, and if I’m satisfied,” he drew that word out and I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks, “then you all get entry into the city.” He looked at the sky. “Better make a decision fast, my replacement’ll be here soon; don’t want to have to re-explain things again, especially with all those injured people you’re all so worried about.”
	Fuck.
	Why does it always come down to fucking! I went the first fifteen years of my life and had a single discussion on the topic with mom and suddenly she dies and everybody wants a shot at me. It’d be flattering if I wasn’t so fed up with it. I scowled hard at him, almost willing him to burst into flames. When that failed to happen I peered back at the caravan. I could almost hear pained moans on the wind. I wondered where Keaton and Aine were. 
	I shook my head. 
	They couldn’t help me now. I’d have to get used to being on my own. Relying on myself and making my own decisions and living with the consequences. I left my life behind to save my innocence but the world had hammered at it and continues to do so seemingly relentlessly; one incident after another. I wondered if it was okay to continue living like this. Maybe this was what growing up was like; endless struggles and trying to continue on and stay you through it all.
	I breathed deeply, trying to calm my nerves.
	It didn’t work; I was shaking like a leaf.
	Could I be me if I went along with this man?
	Maybe I had been doing myself a disservice all along; I had judged my worth against my virginity, but maybe I was more than that?
	I am a person.
	I am Lucia-Marie Anne Trusdale and I am more than a hole to fuck.
	I will be the best me I can be.
	If I have sex with one man or one-hundred men then I will still be me!
	I looked to Dale but he seemed to be embarrassed enough for the both of us; just standing there, shuffling his feet in the dirt. I frowned at him. Once more I looked at the guard. “Just questions?” I asked, knowing that his answer would be a lie.
	He grinned at me, showing teeth. A glint in his eye, he said: “Of course.”
	“Lead on, then.”

	The door closed behind me with a strange finality; oddly echoing my train of thought. I was here; in the now; the tangle of roads laid out before me seemed a bit easier to navigate. The only thing I could do would be to travel my path and hope I’d still be me at the end.
	The guard sat behind a table and propped his feet up. “You know why you’re here?” he said
	I chuckled softly at him. “To satisfy your questions, right? Those were your words.”
	He grinned and brushed his blond hair away from his eyes before leaning forward. “Words have different meanings.”
	I snorted and set my pack down. “I have a pretty good idea about the meaning behind your words.”
	“Do you, girlie?” he questioned, and I saw him take his gloves off and set them gently on the table.
	I sneered at him and approached the table. “You think I’m some kind of whore; a desperate girl that can be taken advantage of because of your position.” I looked down my nose at him and said: “I wonder if this new guard will be as corrupt as you?”
	“Who knows?” he said, unconcerned with my less-than-subtle threat. “All that matters is that I have something you want and you have something that I want and that every moment that passes puts those good people at more risk. The next move’s yours, girl.”
	“It’s Lucia,” I snarled into his face, “I’m not some nameless hole to stick your dick in! I am a person and I demand to be treated as such! I deserve at least that!”
	His eyes trailed down to my blood-stained sleeves. “Where did all that come from, girl?”
	I eyed him with contempt. “One of the sirians was raping a girl,” I said stiffly, “I killed it.”
	Not entirely true but he didn’t need to know that my attack had been largely unsuccessful.
	He raised an eyebrow and once more looked me over. “Lucia, is it?” 
	I nodded.
	“You want to be treated like a person?”
	Once more, I nodded.
	“Inside those walls people will do much worse than what I’m doing at this very moment. They will lie to you, cheat you, steal from you, gamble your safety, and if they can they will rape and kill you-”
	I hated this man. I whipped my knife from its sheath and stabbed it into the table, a mere inch from his hand. “Then I’ll lie, cheat, steal, gamble and kill them first!”
	He gingerly moved my hand off my blade where it stayed standing, unsupported. Leaning in to where I could see individual flecks of green in his hazel eyes, he smiled at me.
	And then he kissed me. 
	It wasn’t as passionate as Keaton’s and it definitely wasn’t as gentle as Aine’s. It was demanding and insistent. The guard’s tongue slipped through my lips and raked along my teeth, which parted for him. My tongue met his and we struggled for dominance. I felt his thumb stroking my cheek softly while the other hand weaved into my hair. 
	He pulled away and said through lidded eyes: “You know how the game works?”
	I nodded, just a bit breathless. “I’ve an idea.” 
	Once more he leaned in and I thought he was going to kiss me but he passed my mouth, making for my ear. “Then get undressed,” he whispered.
	I snorted. Not gonna happen. “Yeah, no,” I said, turning around and inspecting the depressingly bare walls of the room we were in, “I’m not giving you all night; I’ve got things to do and people to see. We’ll have to do this quick.”  
	He stood and opened his pants, pulling out a half-hard cock. It was maybe six inches long and perhaps a bit fatter than Keaton’s. “Well how about you use that pretty mouth of yours to get me ready?”
	Once more, I snorted; I wasn’t going to give an inch for this man. “You really trust me to have your dick in my mouth and not bite it off?”
	He stopped slowly pumping his cock. “Y-you wouldn’t.”
	I grinned at him, showing my teeth. “Why not?” I asked. “I already hate you, and it wouldn’t take much effort; just a quick bite,” I bit down on nothing, clacking my teeth together for emphasis, “and you’d live the rest of your miserably short life as a eunuch.”
	He swallowed nervously, perhaps now he regretted fucking with my caravan.
	Good. 
	“And before you mention the guard,” I whispered, turning back around and gently prodding at my dagger’s pommel, “just remember that you’d probably bleed out before they got here.” I ran my finger up and down the handle of the blade, teasing it as if it were a man’s cock, my actions drawing his eyes. “It’d be my word against a dead man and I’m sure Dale would vouch for my integrity; about how I had been misled and brought away from the safety of my group; about the guardsmen who wanted to extort us of our limited funds while we had injured travelers.” 
	I didn’t know where all my confidence was coming from; I had never acted like this before in my life. But part of me really liked the power I seemed to wield over this man. Just a few simple words and the situation had turned entirely in my favor. I sat on the table and crossed my legs. “If you want to fuck me then you should probably get yourself hard, yeah?”
He looked at me as though I had grown a second head before his hand slowly went back to masturbating his cock. Slowly the appendage grew in length, capping off at about eight inches and widening slightly. 
	It would’ve been impressive if I wasn’t disgusted by him.
	He approached me again, this time with some measure of deference. I smiled at him and reached out, stroking his lip with my thumb.
	Then I spat on his cock.
	He jerked as if burned and looked at me in confusion. 
	I sneered at him. “Get it lubed up,” I said, “you’re not going in dry; the gods know that nothing has happened tonight to arouse me.” That wasn’t totally true; I could feel a bit of a squish down there; though not nearly so much as my night with Keaton and Aine.
	He didn't need to know that, though.
	The guard spat in his hand and brought it to his shaft, rubbing it down until it glistened.
	Without comment, I turned around and bent over, flipping the skirt of my dress up and resting it on my hips, baring my butt and my knickers. I braced my hands on the table and said: "Well, come on; before that dries, come get your satisfaction."
He approached from behind and despite my bravado I still jumped slightly when he grasped my hips. He seemed to notice my reaction because he moved a hand down to caress my cheeks before moving his hands back up and hooking his fingers in the hem of my underwear. He gave a sharp pull and my knickers slid down to rest somewhere near my knees. 
	This room had a draft.
	Gooseflesh formed on my sensitive skin and he chuckled, regaining a bit of confidence. “You had me going there, Lucia,” he said, “but you want my fat dick as much as I want to give it to you, don’t you?” His fingers swiped my slit and pressed against my clit and I bit down on my lower lip to hold in a squeak.
	“I want this done,” I said with as much impatience in my voice as I could muster.
	I didn’t want to enjoy this.
	I had accepted that this was officially my first act of prostitution. I was actually trading my body for a service. There was no love in this act. No affection. 
	That didn’t mean it didn’t feel good, though.
	I felt him lining his shaft up with my hole and pressing in slightly, just prodding my opening teasingly. “You’re not being honest, Lucia,” he said, “you’re lying to yourself.”
	The head of his cock popped inside me and I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t moan, then he pulled out and I had to do it again to keep from groaning in disappointment. I felt a flush rise up on my skin as my nipples peaked underneath my chest wrap. 
	“Do you know what happens when girls lie?” he asked, rubbing the length of his cock against my clit.
	“What?” I moaned; I was shaking and sweating and I could feel my juices finally start to run down the inside of my thigh. 
	He laughed softly to himself and once more pressed his head into my opening. “They get punished.” He pulled out completely and walked back around to his seat, sinking down onto his chair with a groan, his cock bobbing in the air.
	This cocky mother fucker.
	I snarled at him, the corner of my upper lip raised, baring one of my canines. I stood, my dress falling back into place, and stalked around to him. He smirked at me; I could see a bit of my wetness on the tip of his dick. Once more I bent over and flipped my skirt up, practically shoving my snatch into his face. “We don’t have much time.” 
	He laughed. “You don’t have much time, girl; I have all the time in the world. I don’t care about those people. To get them help the gate needs opening and the only way to do that is to satisfy me, but maybe I don’t want to have sex anymore,” he made to stuff his dick back into his pants, “maybe if you beg me to fuck you I’ll reconsider.”
	My eye twitched and I looked longingly at my knife, still embedded in the table.
	“Ah, ah, ah,” he said airily, “you may hate me but I’m still a guard here. The punishment for attacking one of us is flogging and then death.”
	I stood; those people needed me. Grinding my teeth, I muttered: “Please, fuck me.”
	He looked at me, disappointed. “Really?” he said. “I think you can do much better than that.”
	I took a deep breath. I felt a bit squeamish but I needed to think like a whore. I thought back to my time in Adam’s tavern where I had watched the wenches there do a less confrontational version of this song and dance with the men there. 
	I just had to emulate them.
	I sat in his lap and rested my head in the crook of his neck, making sure I missed his dick which was still bobbing excitedly. I ran my finger down his chest and stared up into his hazel eyes. “Please,” I said breathlessly, “if you think I’m good enough, won’t you let me take care of you?”
	I died a little inside.
	I wanted to cry.
	I wanted to vomit but I held my stare without showing any of my discomfort.
	He grinned at me and kissed me on the tip of my nose, the action making my skin crawl. This man had taken away my one weapon against him. 
	He took away my anger.
	I felt empty as he said: “Passable, but you should probably get undressed.”
	I nodded and stood, undoing the buttons on my skirt, which pooled at my ankles before shucking my shirt off and loosening my chest wrap. My hands came up in a subconscious effort to block my shame but he grabbed my wrists and moved them down again. I blushed heavily and looked at the floor as he inspected me like he was a customer at the butcher and I was just some piece of meat. I felt him paw at my breasts, his calloused thumbs swiping across my nipples, eliciting an unwanted pleasure while I silently cursed my body’s reaction. He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around and I felt his hands travel down to my butt where he kneaded my cheeks. Over my shoulder I saw him lean back in his chair, patting his lap. “You’ve convinced me, Lucia,” he said, “come on; get on this dick.”
	Turning, I used the table as a brace and squeezed my legs between his to where my butt was in his face. Then I slowly lowered my hips until I was bent at the knees and I could feel the head of his cock lodge itself between my cheeks. Reaching down, I grasped his rod loosely and angled it towards my opening. I gave a single, shuddering breath and sank down, his dick parting my dewy folds as inch after inch filled me. He groaned and I felt shivers up my spine as I bottomed out on him.
One week since leaving my town to protect my virginity and I’ve had sex with two men and a woman.
	Good job, Lu.
	You’re the best.
	I felt his hands rest on my hips and I did my best not to jump. “By the gods, you’re ‘effing tight.”
	Not for long if this trend continues.
	His hands pushed me up before letting me fall back down. 
	I hated how good this felt. My body liked what was happening while my mind and heart wanted to find a hole to crawl in and not come back out again. 
	Still. 
	I couldn’t hold in my moan as I was filled again and again and again as he worked himself into a rhythm. My breast bounced and my head lolled forward. My eyes wanted to close behind my glasses which were fogging up from the heat radiating off my body, but I fought to keep them open. I moaned and he grunted, my cunt contracting sporadically around his log, trying to milk him.
	I hated this pleasure. 
	I wanted to fight my orgasm. 
	Maybe if I held it off long enough for him to come then I could leave and this would still somehow be a victory. I took to counting the bricks opposite me in pairs.
	Two and he continued his furious pounding.
	Four and I felt his hand leave my hips to pinch at my nipples though I kept bouncing without his guidance.
	Six and one hand weaved itself into my hair, yanking my head backwards, my mouth opening obscenely. I didn’t care enough to close it.
	Eight and I felt his dick swelling; soon he’d come and this would all be over and we’d be in the city.
	My eyes closed at the thought. Surely it was too late for my two mercenaries to head off to Dwellarin tonight. Maybe they’d be okay with me bunking with them wherever they bedded down tonight?
	Aine and Keaton; my lovers.
	I smiled and suddenly the cock in me didn’t belong to some nameless guardsman but was the hunter who had first wooed me and introduced to me the pleasures of sex.
	My orgasm was sudden. It radiated from my cunt in concentric waves. My legs wobbled, my knees smacking together and my toes curling in my boots. My nipples were like pebbles, jutting proudly from my perky breasts. My tongue fell out of my mouth and my eyes curled up and everything went blissfully dark for a moment.
	Suddenly a voice pierced the veil in my mind. “F-Fuck, you kinky slut, get ready because I’m gonna cum so hard!”
That wasn’t Keaton. It wasn’t his voice and he’d never call me that, heat of the moment or not. It was the guard and I didn’t even know his name; I didn’t want to know his name. 
	It was half a second before I registered his warning. I jerked my hair out of his hand and lifted myself nearly completely off his cock, the head teasing at my sensitive, drooling entrance. “I-I don’t… N-not inside me,” I begged; I could never have this man’s sperm inside me. I didn’t have any tea; if I got pregnant with this man’s bastard I’d never forgive myself.
	He scowled at me; he must’ve been close.
	Good, not a moment too soon.
	“I guess you don’t want me to get my satisfaction,” he said, his hands squeezing the armrests of his chair.
	“I-I do,” I said quickly, not wanting him to renege on our deal, “a big load; just not in my pussy.”
	He was silent, his hazel eyes dark with lust and a simmering anger. “Fine,” he snarled, “use your whore mouth!”
	He words were a relief as well as a knife in the gut; that’s all I was to him.
	A whore.
	“O-Okay,” I said, tears gathering in my eyes. I moved completely off him and settled between his legs. I gently grasped his rod and angled it upwards, like I had seen Aine do two nights ago. I licked it; it didn’t taste like Keaton at all; it was musty and sour and had a smell like wet leather.
	I guess that’s what Aine had meant by a dirty dick. 
	I pulled a face but quickly hid it with the curtain of my hair and went back to licking along his shaft.
He groaned. “No need for that,” he said, grabbing great handfuls of hair on the sides of my head, “I’m close so I just need a hot, wet hole to stick it in.” He forced his dick passed my lips, the head resting on my tongue and I thought that then he’d be satisfied but he went still deeper; hitting the back of my throat and triggering my gag reflex. The tears in my eyes finally fell and I was glad that I had a pretense to release them. He huffed and moaned and muttered things under his breath and he tried sinking even deeper; he angled my head to give himself easier access. I felt him enter my throat and press onwards without mercy.
	This was awful; it was degrading and I couldn’t breathe.
	But dammit why was my cunt leaking like a sieve? I had an ever-growing puddle expanding underneath me as he had his way with my mouth like it was a pussy. Fat tears streamed down my cheeks as I coughed and spluttered around his dick. I could feel my throat bulging as my nose met his sweaty pubic hair and his balls rested on my chin, my drool giving them a wet sheen. I swatted at his legs, trying to grab his attention but he ignored me. Once more my vision started going dark, though it wasn’t out of orgasmic pleasure but from a lack of oxygen. Dimly I felt the head of his cock swell and pulse six or seven times and he was groaning so loud that I was sure that the people outside would hear him. 
	He held me there as he rode out his orgasm, firing shot after shot directly down my throat before he pulled my head out of his lap and I had to fight to keep my hacking, dry heaves from turning into actual vomiting. I took in deep lungfuls of sweet air as he stood. “You’re not so bad a lay, Lucia,” he said, his voice smug, “you ever come back and see me and I’ll have some coin for you.”
	I shot him a glare but it must’ve been weak because he just grinned wider at me.

	I closed the door to the guard house while the man inside worked the release to the gate. He had been just kind enough to allow me to freshen up before he booted me out. Dale was standing about thirty feet away, wringing his hands while Aine stood over him, a threatening scowl on her face and Keaton loomed behind him.
	Uh-oh.
	“Hi, you two,” I called, waving my arms to get their attention, “what’re you doing?”
	They spared a glance at Dale before they rushed over, identical looks of worry on their faces. “What happened, Lu?” asked Aine, still about ten feet away.
	“Dale said that the guard took you in for questioning,” added Keaton, frowning.
	They reached me and Aine pulled me into an embrace. I felt her sigh in relief but on the inhale I heard her breath catch.
	Shit.
	No amount of wiping my face and fixing my hair would get rid of the smell of sex; only a bath would do that. She pulled me away and inspected my face, then she leaned in and gave me a long smell. I heard a growl deep in her chest. “What happened?” she asked, eyeing me with icy eyes.
	“Nothin-”
	“Bullshit!” she snarled, and I felt her hands squeezing my arms tightly. 
	I wriggled out of her hold and frowned up at her, adjusting my glasses. “Nothing happened. I got the gate open, that’s all.”
	“Aine?” questioned Keaton, rubbing my arms.
	“She just had sex, Keaton,” she said, “that miserable fucking guard took advantage of her; got the gate open, my ass!”
Keaton spun me around and I over balanced. He caught me and looked me dead in the eye. “What happened, Lu?” 
	His stormy eyes peered deep into my own and I looked away. “He was asking for so much,” I said, tears once more forming in my eyes. “Even if we all pooled our money we wouldn’t’ve had enough coin and even if we did then it would’ve left us all poor; he would’ve let the injured rot out here. He said he wanted to ask me questions but I knew what he wanted.” I breathed deeply, reasserting calm once more; I could break down later when I wasn’t in a semi-public place. “I made a deal,” I nodded at the gate, “and now we have access to the city.”
	I heard the grinding of gears and the gate clanked open and I sighed; I had been afraid that he’d still leave us out to rot. It was too dark to make out any details beyond a fountain and a façade of buildings but the city was definitely open to us. I heard Dale shout in glee and saw him rush over to his cart. He bellowed an order at a young man whom I assumed was his son and soon what was left of our caravan was trailing passed us. Dale waved at me and I gave him a small smile while Aine and Keaton moved in closer around me. The girl who had been raped last night was awake again and was desperately hugging herself to Madam Tidlaw but, still, the old woman found the time to grace me with a small smile.
	None of them knew what had just happened; none besides Keaton and Aine.
	Good.
	One by one the carts passed us by and we fell into step after them with the other guards. I couldn’t help grinning when I crossed into the city. It had taken a week but it seemed like it had been so much longer than that; I had made it though. Battered and unsure, yes, but I was still here. 
	Lux Aetorum.
	Yay!