Investigating the mark's tastes

Dagger weaves his way silently through the streets of the city, leaving the old tower lair behind him as he hears a muffled shriek. He grins slightly. Three girls isn't many, but enough to be getting started with! Between his savvy, Dawn's medical know-how, and Thistle's discipline and connections, the Velvet Hand will, he's sure, end up a very profitable little underworld enterprise.

Hopping onto a canal boat, he pays the gondolier and settles in for the ride to Silkshore. The boat glides silently along the darkened waterways, and Dagger glances warily up at the remnants of the sun. They say that before the Cataclysm, those few embers shone brightly every day, brighter than the brightest electroplasmic lamp, and kept millions of plants and the creatures that depended on them alive.

Hard to believe.

Once in the artists' and nightlife district, he directs the gondolier to a brightly lit red door and steps off. A huge red lantern hangs over the doorway, and on the balconies above, several sex workers lounge and call down enticements to passers-by. Dagger slips in through the doorway and finds himself in the Red Lamp's lounge area. Men and women sit around a large central table with a vase of flowers, talking quietly on couches under dim, red electroplasmic lamps. He lets his eyes glide over the groups already engaged in heavy petting and negotiating prices, until he finds a girl sitting alone on the couch. When he beckons, she saunters over, smiling and tugging the neckline of her bodice slightly lower to reveal a hint of pink areola.

"Wha'll yeh have, sir?"

"Nothin' for now. I wanna talk with your boss-lady. Tell her it's Dagger, eh?"

The girl pouts for a moment, then nods and departs. After a few moments she returns and leads him upstairs to a small, private sitting room. Inside, a middle-aged woman with carefully coiffed dark hair sits at a small table with a red paper lantern on it, going through a stack of receipts. Madam Tesslyn glances up as Dagger enters, unsmiling, and beckons him in.

"Long time since you've darkened my door, Dagger. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." Dagger goes to sit down, and frowns. Just forward of center in the stool on his side of the table, a young woman's head pokes through the fabric. Clearly she's seated in the cramped space between the stool and the floor, though her arms and legs aren't visible. Her face, pointed toward the center of the stool, is tear-streaked. "What am I meant to do here?"

"Hm? Oh. Punishment stool. She got a poor customer review - doesn't spend enough time on the bollocks. Just drop your pants and stick yours in her gob. Her goal is to make someone cum just from suckling his nuts before I leave tonight. Which..." she glances at her watch. "Well, she doesn't have long. So, talk."

Dagger shrugs and, opening his pants, perches on the stool. He lays his shaft on the girl's face and scooches slightly forward as she opens her mouth and begins, somewhat pathetically, to lick and suck his scrotum. He shivers slightly, but keeps his gaze focused on Tesslyn. "Got some professional questions for you, Madam. You know I've always respected you."

"Ha. And you know I've watched you grow from a street sprout to a noxious weed. If you really want to go independent, remember that I'm the ward boss for the flesh trade around here. You'll be cutting me in, eh?"

"Yes, of course," Dagger says smoothly. "That's just the trouble, though - been havin' a little bit of a rub with the Iruvian security down around Ankhayat Park. Don't take kindly to public prostitution, it seems. We've got an opportunity to maybe get the go-ahead from the Istandar himself, Lord Ankhayat, but...we're only going to get one shot at this. Was wonderin' if you - most respected brothel-keeper in the city - know anything about his tastes, what we can do to win him over."

"Ha." Tesslyn picks up her pipe and takes a long drag. "And why should I give you my trade secrets, eh?"

"Not gonna have him picking up whores off the street, I'm sure o' that," Dagger says simply. "Just get 'im to let us operate. And since we will be tithin' to yeh, what's good for us is good for you. It makes business sense."

"Hmmmm." Tesslyn sits in silence for a moment, the only sound the quiet slurping of her girl's work. Dagger glances down at her. He's half-hard now, his cock bouncing lightly off the girl's nose and forehead every once in a while, but that's all. Poor thing really isn't terribly good at this. No wonder Tesslyn's hard on her - and that customer, as well.

"Here's what I know," Tesslyn says finally. "Lord Ankhayat ain't been to my establishment but a handful of times. From what I hear tell, he has a wife - pretty thing and, more importantly, politically powerful back home in Iruvia. But it's not just her. It's also that he has...discriminating tastes, you might say. Not in terms of the breeding, but in terms of the bitch." She puffs on her pipe again. "He's interested in 'exotic' cunt, and he's been up here in Akoros long enough that that doesn't count for 'im. Every time he's here he goes for a Severosi or Islander girl - or Tycherosi, if I have any available. I'm told that's his favorite."

"How fortunate," Dagger says with a little smile. "I have a Tycherosi in my stable."

"Good for you," Tesslyn says grudgingly. "Heard the Lost liberated a few girls from the Lampblacks for ya."

"Please, Madam. I'd never kiss and tell."

She shrugs. "Well, if you do have a Tycherosi girl, let him at her. That ought to help. Past that, afraid I don't know much."

"No, no. That's most helpful. Thank you, Madam. The Velvet Hand is grateful." With a smile, Dagger stands and begins to refasten his pants. The stool-girl makes a little whimper of protest as he pulls his balls out of her mouth.

Tesslyn frowns. "A quick visit, but I have to go myself. Well. She barely made you hard, let alone made you cum, eh?"

"Too true. I barely noticed her," Dagger says coldly. Tesslyn stands and sighs, crossing over to stand next to him and look down at the girl.

"Betsy, Betsy, Betsy. Well, I told you what'd happen if you failed, didn't I now?"

"Oh, please, ma'am," the girl - Betsy - begs, straining to turn her head to look at Tesslyn. "Please, if you'll just let me - "

"Oh, shut up, whore." Tesslyn walks to a side table, grabs a rather large penis gag, and bends down to stuff it in Betsy's protesting mouth. "You need work. So to motivate you, tonight you'll star in the Whipping Hour."

"MMMMNNNNOOO!" Betsy moans around the gag, eyes wide.

"Oh, yes. Truth be told, you'd be doing that even if you did finally make a customer cum. The client who complained is paying for it. If you can't entertain a man with your mouth, we can put that body of yours to use. He's quite looking forward to it, actually - he's paid me a bit extra to change up the format. He'll ream your ass while your tits and cunt are whipped. Should draw quite the crowd."

"Mmmoh. Mmese." Tesslyn shrugs.

"Best learn to teabag, bitch."

Dagger chuckles. "You're a harsh mistress, madam."

"Only way to keep these cunts in line. Come on, I'll walk you out." They proceed out of the sitting room, only pausing for Tesslyn to jerk her thumb back toward the girl and say, "Whipping Hour" to one of the bouncers at the door, who grins. "Sure we can't tempt you to stay a little bit? I have a delicious Iruvian tied up on the third floor, new to the city, wonderful tits."

"No, thank you," Dagger says with a smile. "A little skint right now - starting a business takes money. Well, you know."

"Indeed, I do." They've arrived at the lobby and Tesslyn gives him a firm nod. "Good night, then, Dagger. Best of luck in your new enterprise. Don't fuck with me." Dismissing him from her attention, she glances around the room. "Candace! The man asked whether you had a good tongue. Don't talk to him, open up and let him feel around a little. Sorry, sir. She's new."

Dagger wanders out into the cold and dark once more, hailing a gondola to take him back to Charterhall. An "exotic" girl, eh...? Well, Stella's about as exotic as they come to folks here. We can probably only take one in any case.

As he heads back, a plan for the evening of the party starts to take shape in his head...