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“Just a thousand and five hundred leaves for a night of pleasure, sir.”
There’s so much chatter even at night in New Delsta, it takes a moment for Throné to realise the girl is talking to her. Lowering the hood of her dark cloak, she raises an eyebrow.
“Do I look like a sir to you?”
“O-oh!” Flustered, the girl tucks a golden lock behind an ear. “My apologies. I thought…” Her voice trails off, one hand fisting her silken skirts tightly. She dares to glance up at Throné, then, cheeks pinkening. “Um. For you, miss, a thousand leaves will do.”
Throné blinks, tilting her head at the girl. Did she hear that right? Up close, she looks just a little younger than Throné, perhaps having only just entered the trade.
Curious.
“Interesting. I thought your brothels only took on male clients?”
The girl shakes her head. “Usually, but… noblewomen engage our services, too. Sometimes.”
“Hm.”
The non-committal sound makes the girl look up from under equally light-coloured lashes. “They call us angels of the night,” she says hopefully, stepping a little closer into Throné’s personal space. “How about it, miss? A trip to heaven and back.”
“My.” Throné quirks a smile, folding her arms. “Do they teach you to use that line on everyone you meet?”
“Just potential clients.”
“Am I a potential client?” Throné murmurs, looking the girl up and down. She does need to swipe a brothel’s girl’s clothes to infiltrate the Diamante estate, and this young girl shares a similar build with her.
“Aren’t you?” The girl ducks her head shyly, taking Throné’s appraising gaze for one of appreciation. “You looked… like you could use some company.”
Stepping back, Throné smirks, making her decision right there.
“I suppose I do.”
“Sure looks fancier in here than from the outside,” Throné remarks, tugging at the laces of her corset, taking in all the little details of the room. As if a snake would ever show her back to anyone, even a budding brothel girl. “All velvet-like, and all these gold accents…”
“They’re just gold leaf, miss, really.” The brothel girl giggles, removing hairpins from her flowing blonde hair. The little strings of river pearls tinkle as she sets them down on the dresser. “But thank you kindly, all the same. I’m Pearl, by the way.”
“Ah.” Hence the pearls in her hair, Throné assumes, and the shimmer where some are sewn into her bodice. “I’d rather not say, if it’s all the same to you.”
“’course, miss. You’re a mysterious one, aren’t you?” Nodding, Pearl sits down on the plush ottoman in front of the bed. She pulls a leather drawstring pouch open, spilling its contents out onto the sheets.
Throné saunters over, folding her arms. “My. And what do we have here?”
“W-well…” Clearing her throat softly, Pearl places her hands in her lap as Throné inspects the items. “We cater to clients who have all kinds of preferences, so… if it pleases you–”
“I do indeed have some… preferences.” Throné holds up a pair of dangling leather cuffs. “And a few ideas.”
Pearl goes an impressive shade of red for a brothel girl who’s been in the business for some time. “Oh! I say!”
“I say you still have too many clothes on, Pearl.” Throné raises an eyebrow. “Undress.”
“Yes, miss.” Pearl turns her back to Throné, deft fingers undoing the laces of her dress. It falls in a soft, rustling cascade on the floor, revealing a thin golden chain that traces the graceful line of her back. The candle flickers as Pearl lowers her lashes, looking back over her naked shoulder at Throné. “Could you help me with my necklace?”
So the brothel girl does know her tricks. Throné smiles, stepping behind Pearl and pushing her hair to the side. She lets her nails graze Pearl’s exposed nape, enjoying the little stifled gasp that elicits, right as she carefully unclasps the necklace and pockets it.
Before Pearl can notice anything, Throné’s slipped a hand under Pearl’s silk chemise, pulling her back so her back is flush against Throné’s chest. Her skin is warm under the fabric, under Throné’s lips as she presses them to the line of that beautiful throat.
“Miss–”
“Have you tried them?” Throné says softly, teeth grazing the shell of Pearl’s ear as she guides Pearl’s hands up and over their heads. The chemise flutters to the floor, joining the rest of Pearl’s layers. “The cuffs.”
“Just once.” Naked and beautiful, Pearl lets herself be manhandled onto the bed, going pliant even when the cuffs snap around her wrists. “You must be familiar with them.”
Throné thinks about all the guards she’s ambushed, using their own cuffs against them before robbing their employers blind. “Something like that. You have quite the inventory, don’t you, Pearl? Cuffs, candles… and a phallus, besides.”
“The establishment does it best to stay competitive.” Pearl’s lustrous hair fans out onto the sheets, just like the reflection of a river pearl in the water. When Throné lets them fall between her fingers, she thinks she imagines swathes of silk glittering in candlelight. “You’re so full of surprises, that you know what they are.”
“I like to keep them guessing.”
She loathes the woman just as much as any other Blacksnake, but Mother had been right about this one key advantage women possessed in this... field. The number of male nobles in New Delsta and Clockbank who would beg to have her peg them on the job… well. If Throné was a brothel girl specialising in that, she might very well never have to steal ever again for the rest of her days.
“Do you… um.” Pearl turns away, her reddening expression hidden by several loose strands of gold falling in her face. “Do you want to try it? The phallus…”
“Oh?” Throné straddles her, pinning her arms down by the wrist while she nudges Pearl’s legs apart with one knee. “Greedy girl.”
“I guess I am.”
Throné finds herself barking out a laugh. “Been a while since someone truly satisfied you?”
“Uh-huh.” Licking her lips, Pearl rolls her hips up to meet Throné’s. She keens a little when Throné pinches one of her pale nipples, giving it a mean twist. “They – ah! – never do last… Please, miss, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”
“Such sweet words from a sweet young thing,” Throné drawls, shuffling further up the bed so her legs bracket Pearl’s face, her knees digging right into the pillow. “Let’s see what that pretty mouth can do first, hmm?”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. Pearl’s mouth on her sex is hot and eager, and while she is messy with it the way only the inexperienced are, Throné finds herself sighing as she rides the girl’s tongue, pleased.
“You don’t eat women out like you’re unused to it,” she observes, gripping the headboard as she grinds down, guiding Pearl to lick at her clit. “Very good. Keep doing that…”
Pearl responds with a muffled moan, lapping at Throné with all she can muster. The room is quiet except for the wet sounds of the girl’s mouth, the crackling of the fire, and the rhythmic creaking of beds – theirs, and the one above them.
When Pearl hums and sucks on Throné’s clit, hard, Throné lets herself succumb to the crashing wave of pleasure. Her body shudders as she splays a palm against the wall, throwing her head back as Pearl keeps going, unaware of what’s happening.
It takes Throné’s fingers in Pearl’s hair to pry her off her cunt, to Throné’s amusement. The girl looks dazed, the hair in her face wet from sweat and slick as she absently licks her lips for more.
Yes. This had been an excellent idea.
“Good girls deserve rewards, don’t you think?” Throné says, rolling off Pearl.
There’s a delicious soreness to her clit at being sucked almost raw – she hadn’t expected this kind of enthusiasm from a brothel girl. Two decades of growing up in the hellhole that is New Delsta, and it still finds ways to surprise Throné.
She strokes the wooden phallus experimentally, wrapping her fingers around the base. It’s a sizable girth; considerably bigger than the men she’s had to seduce on her missions, and more so than the one Throné uses on a few of said men.
How fun.
Fastening the belt for the phallus in place, Throné adjusts the angle before climbing onto the bed again, dragging the tip along where Pearl is already dripping wet. There’s that soft, desperate keening from Pearl again, and then she’s parting her legs wider to give Throné a better view.
“Do you want it?” Throné reaches up to shove two fingers inside Pearl’s mouth. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” Pearl begs, closing her eyes when Throné pulls away, wiping that plush bottom lip with her thumb. She strains against the cuffs, her legs twining with Throné’s. “Yes, miss. Please. I’ve been good.”
“Oh, yes. That you have.” Throné circles her fingers around Pearl’s clit, sliding them down into the heat of her.
Warm, wet and willing – Pearl’s all but dripping down onto the sheets with how much she wants it. There’s barely any resistance when Throné pushes in for her first thrust.
“Oh. Oh!” Pearl arches her back, thighs shaking as she takes more and more of that phallus inside her. When it bottoms out, she hooks her legs around Throné’s waist, pulling her down. “Ah… yes. So full. More, miss, please, more–”
If she’s acting, Throné notes with some amusement, she’s a damned good actress. But there’s only so much you can lie with your body, after all, and Throné knows better than most how to read a catch in one’s breath, the tension in a mark’s shoulders, and the split-second of opportunity before someone else’s orgasm – all natural openings for her to go in for the kill.
To date, Throné has had fewer female partners than she has had male ones, especially when it’s for solo missions for the Blacksnakes. If she’s honest, at least she gets a bit of a challenge with pleasing women, when men simply make it just too easy.
“Look at you.” Pulling back, Throné lifts one of Pearl’s lovely long legs to hook around her shoulder before sliding back in. The jolt from that rocks Pearl’s body, startling a strangled gasp out of her as Throné stays sheathed, rolling her hips for shorter thrusts. “So pretty and refined in your silks and pearls on the streets. But here, you’re greedy for it, aren’t you? Hungry to be fucked. Rough and raw.”
“Ah! Ah. Y-yes…” Pearl grinds down on the phallus, matching Throné’s pace. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard – ah! – fuck me ‘til I can’t walk–”
“Is that wise, my little brothel girl?” Despite the question, Throné slams hard into her, tearing a cry from Pearl’s throat. “All those clients gagging for a night with you. Some rich merchant who can barely get it up… or maybe a skinny, young nobleman who won’t last three minutes inside your sweet cunt. Heh.”
Pearl laughs between gasps, eyes crinkling as she tightens her legs around Throné’s waist. “I want more, miss. I always want more – oh, that’s good. You’re fucking me so good…”
Grinning, Throné bites down on the inside of Pearl’s thigh, cupping one of her small breasts to thumb her nipple. “Do they teach you to use that line on all your clients?”
“Yes, but... a-ah, I mean it…” Pearl begins to fuck herself down on Throné even more roughly, her breath coming shorter – harsher. “Nngh, miss – I’m close, please–!”
“Please, what?” Throné lifts Pearl’s hips off the bed, bending both of her legs over her shoulders now as she slides home, and deep. Pearl screams then, her head falling back against the sheets as she struggles against the cuffs. “Beg me.”
“Please, miss!” Pearl whimpers wetly, looking up at her from under her sweat-damp hair as Throné digs her fingers into the meat of her ass, pushing her even more on the phallus. “I… I’m begging you, let me –oh! Please let me come!”
“There’s a good girl.” Chuckling, Throné quickly unfastens the belt around her waist, pulling the phallus out of Pearl in one swift motion.
“Wha…” Pearl looks up at Throné, eyes shining with betrayal, but they widen again just as Throné works the phallus back inside Pearl without the belt. “Oh, f-fuck…”
Pushing it in, Throné slides down Pearl’s body while parting those wet folds, leaning in to suck on Pearl’s swollen clit as she resumes the same thrusting movements of the phallus.
It doesn’t take long for Pearl to seize up against Throné’s mouth, gushing onto her waiting tongue and fingers. Her heels dig sharply into Throné’s back as her body rises taut like a bow, shaking hard through finding her pleasure.
“That was…” Pearl finally manages to say from somewhere above Throné, between slowing, shuddering breaths. “I… wow.”
“Indeed.” Throné wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, sitting back. It takes only a light pull to take the phallus out this time, with how Pearl’s soaked the sheets. Now that can’t be feigned, as far as Throné’s concerned. “You can add that little trick to your arsenal.”
“If I could manage it as skillfully as you do, miss, sure.” Pearl looks up at Throné with drowsy, hooded eyes. Good – all according to plan. “Since we’ve received your payment in advance, you are free to stay the night if you’ve no place to be, or you can… leave anytime, if you so wish…”
“I do have somewhere to be.” Unhooking the cuffs, Throné pulls the covers up over Pearl’s naked shoulder, using her other hand to surreptitiously cast dark magic behind her. The lights begin to dim, just as she makes a show of blowing out one of the candles by the bed. “Sleep well.”
As if on cue, Pearl yawns, covering her mouth with one hand. “Come again, miss.”
“In your mouth?”
Pearl shakes her head, sputtering. “That… I…”
Slipping on her boots and shuffling Pearl’s discarded dress into her inner coat lining at the same time, Throné gets to her feet.
“Goodbye, then, my angel of the night.”
Mission accomplished.
Fin