*Wasn't This Part Of Your Plan For The Day Anyway? (At Least Sort Of...)*

You feel kind of cross for a second or eight, but then puff up your cheeks and exhale. "Necahual, you all you had to do was ASK: each of the others saw an opportunity and TOOK it, you probably could have done this yesterday afternoon or even maybe late the day of the first council meeting and I'd have done it gladly, there's no need for demands or trying to **** me in my sleep!" You inform her forcefully.

"Oh! Oh..." She exclaims, then moans mournfully, realizing that much, indeed almost all, of the delay is her own fault, and clutching herself against the sudden chill, arms folded against her B-cup breasts and face turned away, hidden behind the fall of her lustrous straight, dark-brown hair that falls to cover the tops of her breasts...

"Don't worry," you reassure her, "you're here, I'm here, and you HAVE asked, so there's no need to threaten to quit, seeking you out to do this was on my agenda today anyway, you've just saved me some time, that's all..." You explain, brushing one hand along her cheek, (though she flinched from that touch at first,) and she sags in relief, like a puppet with cut strings.

"Ok, thank you, Excellency, let's get this done, I've got taxes to collect and Malinalxochitl has asked for my help on the 'Writing' research, apparently she needs a better grasp of current economic terminology..." Necahual says, about as enthusiastic about the sex as if you were asking her to eat a ketchup and mustard salsa wrap...

[[That's the tole that being a whore exacts on a woman, if sex is your job you stop being able to enjoy it...]] You think, not sure how you know that but quite sure it's true. [[Best to just get it over with then, if she can't enjoy herself precious little chance I will either...]] You think, and gently guide her hand back to your now exposed penis, rapidly shrinking in the cold of the cave.

Though Necahual pretends to enjoy the sex that follows, it never reaches her eyes, you both just go through the motions mechanically. When she finally mounts you, you manage to derive some pleasure from her playing your penis with her twat muscles like a musical instrument whose notes and tones are sexual pleasure, but your eyes never leave her own, and you see in them that to her this is just one more business transaction, no different really than ordering chillies from a fruit vendor for dinner. Still, she's a pro, and coaxes an orgasm out of you in under ten minutes, possibly the single least satisfactory one of your entire existence, but you take that in stride. Someday, you will help her reclaim her ability to take pleasure in sex again, but that day is not today, today, this is a business transaction, but not what she thinks, you are not buying her body for the price of the magic inside your semen; you are buying her a new lease on life: buying TIME for her soul to begin healing...

Errand done, Necahual leaves to clean up and be about her business without a backward glance, and you feel a sense of regret. In a sense, YOU were a whore just now, selling your body and sexual favors to buy something you needed. Yes, it wasn't money, or food, or clothing: in fact it was to purchase a future for a woman you care about who has been stripped of part of her essential self by unfair circumstances and the harsh realities of surviving as an orphan in a society with no kind of organized way of caring for those deprived of a family at a young age, but that changes nothing. Everyone who's ever chosen to become a whore had reasons for doing so, some goal they thought was worth the sacrifice. For you, it was saving someone else from that pit of shame and pain, even if you had to go in yourself to pull them out: for her, it was survival and advancement when she had nothing else to barter. Can you genuinely say she was wrong and not thereby become a hypocrite?

Did your sacrifice actually gain what you bargained for? Did hers? Were they worth it, in the end? Only time will tell...