Chapter 116: Quentin's Journal, Entry 2 (NSFW)

Quentin’s Journal, 39th of Summer 198 P.W.C

Something I’ve come to enjoy in my time as a pimp has been meeting new people and learning how to relate to them. It’s not something I’d ever expected, given I spent the better part of thirty years with people avoiding or throwing rocks at me, but I enjoy it. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing the looks on their faces as they have to deal with a moonkissed with more power and wealth than them.

Not that I care about either, but they do. I’m just happy to have what I have and to spend my time with my girls, where every night is either a fun party, or an excuse to cut loose and fight some unruly idiot who sees me and thinks he can make a name for himself. Either way, I come out ahead and enjoy myself.

I mentioned last time that there was an important party coming up. That was two days ago, and…well, I can’t say it wasn’t fun, but I think I’m going to be dealing with the repercussions for a while.

“How do I look?” Razia asked, striking a dramatic pose. As if she didn’t already know.

“I love it,” I replied honestly, “but isn’t it uncomfortable and exposed?”

Her outfit, if it could be called that, was a leather harness that exposed basically everything that would normally be covered up. All the metal on her body was proudly on display, framed by a red cloak, hood down. I was no longer the shy, paralyzed wretch I had been before, but I would always be affected by her.

“Perfect for grabbing the attention of Kavan Swint. He’s sweet on me. Besides, I won’t be exposed the entire time.” To demonstrate, Razia pulled the cloak shut, tying it with a silk rope. It wasn’t too conspicuous, even in the summer heat, with the ever present monsoons. With just a pull of cloth, she’d go from invisible traveler to bold and on display.

“If you’re comfortable with it, then so am I.” And I was. It’s funny, thinking of that brief bit of possessiveness I’d felt. It had taken dying and learning I had burned up thirty years of my remaining lifespan to appreciate how fleeting everything was. Dying was a real wake-up call to live. Funny how that worked.

“I am. The real question,” Razia’s grin turned wicked, “is how comfortable are you with Delia Swint? Word is, they like to partner swap. Is your poor, delicate self going to be okay with yet another woman throwing herself at your feet?”

Gods, it had gotten so bad, but I was hardly complaining. My issues with sex and trusting others enough to be vulnerable had finally gotten dealt with, largely thanks to her enthusiastic efforts. Now that I had branched out and was enjoying myself, I was fair game in the eyes of the girls working for me. I didn’t encourage it, but at this point I didn’t spurn it either, unless it was a transparent attempt to get in my good graces.

“I’m not particularly interested in her,” I said. “Her voice is simpering and her laugh is annoying. But I can put up with her for a little while if it means getting access to his contacts.”

“Just think,” said Razia, “if she’s that annoying you could always put her mouth to better use.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway. It probably wasn’t going to happen. If it did? I didn’t know, but at the time I thought I would pull through. I had no idea what I was in for.

The problem with living in a crowded city like Orchrisus was that going anywhere with a large group became an event. There were only a handful of streets wide enough for the beetle carts to take us through, and when you had a couple dozen prostitutes and almost as many of my Shades to transport, it got tricky. We didn’t tend to have trouble, it just became an extra chore to clear the way ahead of us.

Our caravan of courtesans always got a lot of attention as we passed. And why not? We had the most beautiful works of living art in Orchrisus. Masters of their craft, performers who knew how to work a room or crowd and lead even the most stony person by the nose. Traveling to parties used to give me anxiety, when the street war had been at its height. Now I appreciated the spectacle and the free advertising for the Moonlit Garden.

Most of the time, I walked along the carts, grateful for a chance to get off my ass and stay moving. Some days, like today, I needed to maintain an appearance. Razia and I rode in our own private cart at the head of the train. Our roles were reversed: she had her cloak pulled around her as she sat upright, while I lounged like an indolent king.

Cheers and jeers met us as we snaked our way around foot traffic along the Boulevard of Saint Trassius. As big as we’d gotten, we still stuck to the north side of town. Our trip today was a straight line. On the eastern edge of town, where the land opened up, Kavan Swint and his wife lived on a sprawling estate near a tributary of the river. Our caravan crawled its way there over the course of about an hour.

As far as I could tell, Swint’s estate had more lush greens and rare plants than just about anyone in town, stretching as far as the eye could see. Or further. Even with my dark spectacles on, I could only see clearly for about twenty feet. The rest was a smear of colors and shadows. Whatever healing the Darkstar had given me as an infant, it hadn’t extended to my eyes.

Like many men of his station, he had an entire household of guards, servants, and slaves to manage it all for him. This time of evening, the slaves were out of sight, working to supply the party while the guards put on their best show of strength and class, wearing the bird sigil of their master on their helmets. They waved us through, their hungry eyes lingering on our girls.

We were ushered to the side, where our beetles would be fed and brushed down during the party. Kavan Swint waited for us there, dressed in robes of burnt orange, lined by a sharp, angular black pattern. It gave some needed life and vigor in his pale skinned, dark haired appearance. He was a handsome man, and his wife was…

Delia Swint was unnaturally beautiful, and I don’t mean that as a compliment. She had gorgeous hair of deep, dark red, both curly and bouncy. Her skin was almost as pale as mine, and very unlikely to be so pure and without blemish in the desert. Few women could be blessed with her specific mix of a lithe frame with notable curves, hidden behind a green dress so tight it exposed everything. There had to have been hundreds of aquilos of flesh sculpting at work.

“Quentin Quintius, the king of the Boulevard,” Kavan Swint greeted me as soon as the cart rolled to a stop. One of his men pulled the back hatch down for us.

I stood and helped Razia up as well. We left first, Razia daintily stepping down and me hopping off after. Kavan held out his hand and I grasped his forearm. “Kavan Swint, king of the bastards.”

He did a double take, and then burst out laughing. “I suppose I am at that, aren’t I? Politicians are the worst of us, and yet we let them run our lives. Razia Rashid, the second-most beautiful woman in the world.” He took Razia’s hand and kissed it.

She laughed with delight. “Wise of you to say that around your wife, but also true. Delia I am, as always, astounded at your singular beauty. Isn’t she a treat, Quentin?” Her eyes twinked with mischief.

Swallowing a sigh, I smiled and brought her hand up to my lips to brush against it. When I tried to release it, she held on. “I have never seen anyone who looks quite like you,” I said honestly.

Delia gave a sour, false laugh. “You’re so kind, Mr. Quintius. I could say the same about you.” She grabbed me by the other hand and let her fingers wander up my arms, squeezing and pinching. “You’re quite the specimen. Hopefully we can get to know each other better tonight.” She finished by groping my pecs and making a pleased sound.

After decades of abuse and fighting, I was very picky about who I allowed to touch me. Over ten years passed between my last lover and Razia. While I was now exploring with some of my more beloved girls, I didn’t care for my personal space being invaded. I caught Razia’s eyes. As always, she took pure joy in my suffering.

“We have much to talk about,” I said, resisting the urge to shudder or shove her away. She remained close enough that I had to look down to face her. “Razia and I differ in how we operate. She prefers pleasure first to break the ice and get to know one another. I, on the other hand, prefer to get the unpleasant stuff out of the way first, so that we may celebrate reaching an accord.”

Razia stepped up and continued as if we rehearsed. We didn’t need to, with her instincts. The woman could sense weakness and opportunity like a strawbird could sense water. “Of course, since we’re here to serve this party at your pleasure, it only makes sense that you choose the order. Shall we have some fun and unwind, or talk while our girls get you and your guests good and hungry before they’re allowed to sate their appetites?”

Behind us, the carts unloaded, and the most beautiful men and women in Orchrisus stepped out and went as they pleased to explore the grounds. The guards didn’t know whether to stop them or not, but since the Swints didn’t protest, they stood their ground. Even when Isa stopped to tease one of them.

Kavan’s eyes darted from girl to girl. Within seconds, he was practically salivating. Razia seized the opportunity. She pulled off her cloak and said in her best faux innocent voice, “Who do I give my coat to?”

Delia chuckled, shaking her head fondly. If there was any jealousy there, I couldn’t see it. Instead her eyes, an artificially vivid green, bore into mine. “I think that he’s going to be useless for a while. I think I speak for both of us when I say that our guests will be much more pliable and cooperative after they’ve indulged themselves.”

Razia all but threw herself at Kavan, pressing up against his side. She brought his hand to her breast. His thumb ran over the bar in her nipple. “By the time we’re done, you’re going to be begging to give us what we want.”

Kavan cleared his throat and smiled. “Then please, let your lads and ladies go inside and find a lap to sit in. Enjoy all of our food and drink, and show us what you’re capable of. Before the night ends, the four of us will have a chat about what we can offer one another. Does that cover it, love?”

Delia tapped a finger tipped with, what else, red against her cheek. “I believe it does. Save at least one round for me later.” She pressed herself against him and they kissed with the sort of hunger that is only half for show.

“I’ve taken a few potions tonight,” he purred. “That can be arranged. Meet back later with our experiences?”

Razia winked at me, but I just rolled my eyes. Like usual, my discomfort was her delight. Tonight was to be a test of me afterall. My beloved, infuriating Razia would have the easy job of doing what she did best and charming him. And now I had to do the same with a woman who wanted me more than I wanted her. It would all hinge on my efforts. Kavan whispered something into Razia’s ear as they went inside.

“Shall we, Mr. Q?” Delia took my arm in hers and hugged it between her breasts. There was a small part of me that enjoyed it, but it still wasn’t with my permission. I did what I always did in situations that made me uncomfortable and froze.

She led me inside, where the house extended into a massive conversation den, filled with couches and sculptures. There, I spotted Jenna, sandwiched between two men old enough to be her fathers. They wore masquerade masks, but it wasn’t hard to pick out enough features to place them. They were only two of much more.

Not everyone had gotten started so quickly, but now that we’d arrived, the party started in earnest. Bodies writhed against bodies amidst laughter and gentle groans. Delia pulled me by the arm through the room, and down a hall. Servants got out of our way as she took me through the halls to her and Kavan’s luxurious master bedroom.

“And what if your husband intended on using this bed?” I asked, looking around. It was all warm colors, hot even. The two of them loved the color red a tragic amount. It reminded me too much of Piro, the couple of times I had met him.

“What if he did?” Delia challenged. “You’re a powerful man, Mr. Q. Would you let someone like my husband keep you from taking what you want?”

One didn’t live my life without learning a thing or two about how people worked, when it came to lust. Razia had taught me much, and I had picked up a lot of patterns and behaviors, and what they meant. It was time to take a gamble.

“No,” I said, forcing a predatory smirk. “I take what I want.” She quivered as I towered over her, using my size to my advantage to make her feel small. “Anytime I want.”

Her breathing quickened. Delia swallowed hard and leaned closer to me, taking my hand from between her breasts and bringing it to her face. My palm easily covered half her head, and her bouncy red hair was silky and soft. “And what do you want, Mr. Q?”

What a question. If I were someone else, I might’ve growled out something demanding or possessive and made a move. The sex was free and all but impossible to avoid. It was easier even than approaching one of my girls with a handful of aquilos. They had the freedom to say no, and have, in the past. Now, I was the one who was being pressured for a yes, to entertain if it meant getting us what we wanted.

It came down to respect. I respected what my employees do, I just never thought I’d participate so directly in the business. I didn’t respect Delia. Not really. And not because she threw herself at me. The woman knew what she wanted, but she didn’t interest me. Anything I did would be playing a role. It might be enjoyable, but it wouldn’t be real. And although I knew that wasn’t a bad thing, I hesitated.

“I want you to tell me what you think makes you good enough to be fucked by me,” I said. I trailed my fingers against her cheek downward, until they wrapped around her throat. Careful to only squeeze the sides, I growled, “Razia loves to perform. I’m picky. What makes you compare to any of my girls?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Something appeared on her face. At first I thought it was fear, but then I decided it was surprise. And a pleasant one, if the way she whimpered was any indication. She swallowed hard through my grasp on her throat, and I continued my attack, pushing her backwards until she hit the bed. I came after, pinning her there with one hand. She twitched, and I let her go.

“A-are you saying I’m not good enough to fuck a moonkissed crime lord?” Delia asked, halfway between shock and anger.

“I think you’re desperate to be fucked by a moonkissed crime lord,” I said. “You want to be brutalized and survive the monster eating up more and more of the Boulevard, don’t you?”

I took a step back and raised myself up to my full height. Taking off my shades, I let her directly see the color, as unusual as her own, and the maximum strength of my scowl. In it, I poured all of my irritation, all of my contempt, all of my impatience for this whole song and dance.

Her throat bobbed again. “Yes,” she said, with an honesty I didn’t expect. “I want to see what you’ll do, knowing you can’t afford to hurt me.” She raised her leg up, between my legs. Her foot brushed my groin before I grabbed her by it and yanked her to the foot of the bed.

“You don’t get to touch me without my permission.” I kept my tone even, calm, and deliberate. “Do it again and --”

Delia reached up and touched my cheek. She thought she was being funny. I didn’t hesitate. One second she lay there smirking at me, the next I slapped her across her perfect, heart shaped face.

“That’s the last warning you get.” My expression went dead.

Delia tenderly touched a spot that was sure to bruise. Her entire body shook, and tears filled her eyes. She nodded sharply and said, “Yes sir,” in such a demure voice that I almost took it for an act. After that, Delia sat straight up, hands in her lap. She was still presenting herself to me, but I was in control now.

“Good girl,” I said without thinking about it. Times with Isa had almost conditioned me to say the phrase, and Delia squirmed. Her gaze had been hungry before, but now I felt like she was gnawing on me with her eyes. “I’m here to discuss using you and your husband’s connections to hook us up with senators and magistrates.”

Delia pouted and leaned back, still suggestive but more to get comfortable. “What do you and the islander want with a bunch of scumsucking, corrupt old men?”

“Their favor, obviously. There’s legislation coming up that we want to kill, and need some sympathetic ears.” Maybe I shouldn’t have spilled our general plan, but I had a feeling I could get what I needed from Delia, if I were willing to play along. “We befriend you and your husband, he gets us to the men we need, we show our extreme appreciation for their favor, and the party keeps going for a little longer.”

The inhumanly beautiful redhead made a thoughtful noise. “I find it hard to believe that a business-fixated brute like you cares about the party. You won’t even have a little fun with me.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, letting my voice drop to a whisper. “You want me to play with you? I fuck the life out of you and you convince your husband to throw in with us?”

Delia shook her head, letting out an uncomfortably girlish giggle. “You play with me and leave me satisfied, I’ll give you more than Kavan’s friends. I’ll give you their wives and kids. There’s a whole lot of drama in families like that, people who could use a favor or some…discretion.”

She laid all the way back, her hair pooling behind her in a halo. Her tight dress emphasized rather than hid her breasts, and she drew the bottom up enough to show slender legs, and a small patch of darker red hair. “You want to keep the party going? Then party with me.”

My choices dwindled, but I still had something in mind. “Fine. But we’re going to play my way. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Delia purred.

I finally shucked off the cloak I’d been wearing, and slipped off my spectacles. If this didn’t get me in some kind of trouble, they’d be easy to retrieve later. I basically undressed, pulling off my tunic and the rope that kept it taught. Left only in my underwear, I showed off my form for Delia, who openly gawked.

Onto the bed I went, with the rope wrapped firmly in my left fist. I covered her body with mine, and enjoyed how soft and pliant she was. It wouldn’t be so bad to give in, but she annoyed me. With my right hand I slid my fingers into the neckline of her dress, and pulled as hard as I could. Delia gasped as I ripped the material open, freeing perfect breasts. I continued pulling, yanking it off of her and leaving her naked save for her shoes and jewelry on her fingers and neck.

“Gods, Mr. Q, you -- “

I slapped her again, more gently this time. Not enough to hurt her so much as make it clear that I was in control, and she didn’t have my permission to speak. It only took another two tries before she gave in, breath hitching in her chest. Every domination, every humiliation just stoked the fire in her. I knew what she wanted by now.

“We’re going to go on a little trip,” I said as I threw the rope around Delia’s shoulders. I tightened it around her throat and tied it there with just a little bit of slack. Enough for her to be able to breathe, until I pulled on it. “On your hands and knees.”

“You’re kidding me,” she said, cheeks reddening with shame.

Rather than answer, I pulled on the rope. With widened eyes she dropped to her hands and knees. In those haunting green eyes was something like fear, the idea that she might not know what she was in for. I walked to the door with my pet in tow, opening it so she could go out. When she hesitated, I planted my sandal in her ass and barked, “Move!”

We wound our way through the halls the way we had first come. The summer night was warm, so my pet wouldn’t suffer too much from her lack of clothes. The real pain came from the way I marched her through her friends and peers. The party was in full swing by now, and people only had sex on the couches, against the walls, on the floor. I led Delia through the orgy, pausing to run my hand through Lucy’s hair as she rode a hefty young man wearing a pig mask. My girl groaned and nuzzled against my hand as we passed.

Dozens and dozens of people fucking, and I made Delia watch them without being allowed to participate. On occasion I would stop and grab a handful of that beautiful hair and direct her attention. Part of me wondered if I was going too far or doing something that would backfire, but Delia made it evident she enjoyed every second of it. The slight of her glistening lips made me stir, but I ignored it and kept us going until we left the main room and headed outside towards those extensive gardens.

Delia crawled as fast as she should, and I could see the start of bruises on her knees and knuckles. A pampered woman like that knew nothing of real physical strain. She was about to learn, or she’d back down. Either worked for me.

“Where are we going?” she chanced asking me, looking over her shoulder. We weren’t alone in the gardens. The sounds of sex broke up the sound of bugs in the night. I took her over to a stone bench next to a stream leading off the estate and into the sands behind.

“Right here, I think. You want cock, Delia?”

She nodded.

I smiled and waved some of my men over. Briefly, I’d thought to maybe check her slaves and servants for volunteers, but then she would’ve known what I had in mind. Now, as three shades approached, she looked up at me with wild eyes.

“Who wants to partake of Missus Swint?” I asked, jerking on the rope until she was on her knees and on display. “She’s kindly volunteered her body for your entertainment. Isn’t that right, Delia?”

She looked around at the three men I’d summoned over. Jaxon, Kitt, and Mal answered my call, and they had participated in similar activities before. I smiled as they wasted no time in crowding around her, reaching to touch her face, her hair, her breasts. Delia held still for the most part, opening her mouth to say something but just gasping as Kitt pinched her nipple.

“Isn’t that right?” I repeated louder. At my tone, my boys backed off. Like a bunch of well trained dunewallas, they waited for the command to attack.

Delia looked up at me with uncertainty. She could back out any time, even after this, but she knew at this moment it was time to make a choice. Her eyes drifted to the three men surrounding her, and I could feel her indecision. She wanted me, not a bunch of rowdy men. But on the other side of things, she wanted something rough and callous.

Not only that, but among all those willing to sell violence, gladiators were some of the most vain. Kitt had long, flowing hair tied back, while Mal was a beast of a man with a big beard and wild, heated eyes. Jaxon was young and handsome, not yet scarred by battle. If she was going to be taken by any group of ruffians, they were a good looking bunch, and they knew it.

“You can always say no,” I said in a much softer tone. “We can always go back to negotiating, if you aren’t up for playing.”

It worked better than it should have. Delia’s haunting green eyes narrowed and she said, “Do your worst.”

I motioned with my hand, and my men all but attacked her. Mal fished out his half hard cock and slapped her in the face with it. A fistful of her hair directed her mouth onto him, and Delia wasted no time in wrapping her lips around it and swirling her tongue around the head. Mal groaned in appreciation as Jaxon and Kitt got partially undressed.

With me there to watch and this overall party being low stakes, none of us were worried about an ambush. They let their weapons fall to the ground, kicking them over to me. Within seconds they were all ready, and Delia had them well in hand, alternating who she gave attention to. All while I watched.

I enjoyed watching, and that remained forever funny to me. I was never a prude, but after years of being alone and a few bad experiences, I avoided it all. And now I sat on a stone bench, watching a living doll of a woman struggle to suck three cocks at once, and I luxuriated in it. When Delia’s eyes weren’t closed in euphoria, they were locked on mine, and I didn’t look away.

She wanted me to join in. Hell, she only did this because I was directing the action, and she understood the game to be control and submission, and she really did want to play. And now, seeing her give it her all, with all the reckless abandon I’d seen from Razia, I wanted to play too. And I would, in my own way.

“Up,” I commanded, standing as well. Delia popped Jaxon’s cock out of her mouth and looked up at me, panting. I snapped fingers and pointed at the stone bench I’d just vacated. With a wild laugh, Mal pulled Delia up by her hair and practically threw her down before grabbing her by the thighs and lining himself up.

Delia’s eyes widened and she let out a gasp as Mal drove himself inside of her. As wet as she was, Mal was thicker than most and wasn’t gentle. The redhead’s eyes fluttered shut as her entire body jerked at the slow invasion. The other two didn’t wait. Jaxon took her by her shoulders and held her in place, while Kitt, the slimmest of the three, threw his leg over her and straddled her chest. Grasping both breasts he mushed them up against his erection. She opened her mouth in surprise, and Jaxon filled her mouth.

It was awkward at first, but it didn’t take long for the three gladiators to find a rhythm. Mal would thrust hard and make her squeal around Jaxon, while Kitt slowly thrust between her breasts. Razia would’ve considered this scene a work of art, and I would have agreed. But it could be better. Hard as stone, I left the four lovers.

I wasn’t gone long. Certainly not long enough for them to stop or finish or care that I’d left, but enough time to gather others. Some more of my men, some of Kavan’s, as well as some of the serving people. Delia was willing to be nude in front of others, but how naked would she let herself be?

I came back with about a dozen spectators and participants. They’d changed positions since I’d left, and Delia lay atop Mal’s burly form, with Jaxon behind her in her ass and Kitt thrusting furiously into her mouth. All it took was clearing my throat for Delia to notice all of the people who worked for her, watching as she got filled by low class men. It was enough to make her squeal in surprise, setting Kitt off.

Delia sputtered and backed off as the gladiator’s cock fired rope after rope of his semen into and across her face. With a relieved groan, Kitt fell back, which left room for another.

I tapped on one of the Swint household’s slaves' shoulders and pointed at Delia. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I rolled my wrists and pointed once more. He grinned and pulled his tunic up. Delia panted for air as he got close, disgust and shame in her eyes as she looked at me.

What could I do but smile? This was part of the game, and she’d play or she wouldn’t. Delia didn’t have much time to think. The two men continued to thrust in and out of her perfect body. The slave moved forward, and Delia reached for him. She took him into her mouth just as Jaxon groaned and filled her ass. The gladiator withdrew shortly after, letting his cum drip from her. I waved one of her guards forward.

In situations like this, they had no reason to listen to someone like me. Not when I was doing something that, at other parties, might have gotten me hurt or challenged to a duel of honor. But I’d come to learn that all it took to be in charge, sometimes, was being willing to tell people what to do. They do it, trusting in the repercussions falling at my feet.

It went like that for another hour. As soon as one man finished, another would step up. It stopped mattering whether or not it was her men, or my men, or even some of the masked politicians who had wandered out as it became more of a spectacle. The lady of the house, passed around like a hunk of meat.

She had wanted to see what I would do to her, and she’d mistakenly believed it would be me ravaging her. It feels weird to admit, even in my journal, that I’ve gotten good enough that I believe I could’ve given her what she wanted. But I could have given her that experience with a barely tamed beast. That’s not who I was these days.

I was the moonkissed bastard who would direct over a dozen low class people to fuck a rich man’s wife while I watched and occasionally touched myself through my clothes. The satisfaction came more from seeing a woman who had twisted herself into what she thought was an ideal woman, being degraded and loving it.

By the time she was almost out of energy, she was slick and sticky with more men’s fluids than she’d likely ever had at one time. The last man to fuck her, one of her guards, unloaded into her and left her on the stone bench, panting, heaving, and dripping. That’s when I saw her husband in the crowd, looking both exhausted and horrified at the scene in front of him.

Then I saw Razia, and her look of surprise is something I’ll treasure for the rest of my life. Especially with what came next.

“You just got fucked by half your men and mine,” I said, reaching down to cup her sticky cheek. “How do you feel? You ready for me yet?”

Delia panted and whined, leaning into my hand. “I…That’s…Do you mean it?”

I smiled and patted her face. “Of course.

“Good to know you’re taking care of my wife, Quintius,” Kavan said with an edge to his voice. I wondered then if he’d ever shared Delia with more than one person at a time. My gut told me he hadn’t.

“Of course,” I said. I pulled my underwear down. A quiver of fear went through me as I felt so many eyes of the party on me. I grasped my cock and stroked it above Delia’s head.

She reached for it and I slapped her hand out of the way. “Nuh-uh,” I said, stroking harder and faster. It had been difficult, spending that entire time with no relief. I could draw it out, but I didn’t want to. Delia had her fun, and now it was time for me.

As I went harder and faster, I let out an indulgent groan. Delia’s eyes watered with shame, understanding, and yearning. Even at the end, she would be denied what she wanted. I grinned at her, and seeing the longing on her messy, well used face, I went over the edge.

She took me all over her face, and I kept my aim true. Delia had to close her eyes and hold her breath as the last load of the night covered her. When I was done, I put myself away and patted one of the less wet spots on her head. “Good girl. Maybe next time, I’ll even touch you.”

I walked through the crowd, pushing past Kavan and Razia. I wasn’t angry. Quite the opposite, in fact, but I needed to keep up the performance. I went back to the Swint’s bedroom and got dressed again. When I came back out, Razia waited for me by the gardens.

“That was cold,” she said. “Isn’t it usually my job to gamble with risky decisions?” The crowd in the far end of the gardens hadn’t left. In fact, more activities had started up. At parties like this, no matter how final a finish was, the rest of the people kept on going. So it would go for another few hours.

“Usually,” I said, opening my arms. Razia pressed herself against me and breathed in deeply. “Did you have fun with Kavan?”

“Ugh,” she said with a huff, “he’s more in love with the idea of being a good lover than being one. He’s plenty satisfied, but I’m not. And you reversed it with Delia, didn’t you? You’re satisfied, but she’s not.”

I chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that. If she’s not satisfied after all that, then there’s no pleasing her.”

“Oh shut up, you know exactly what I mean,” said Razia. She got serious. “This is either going to work really well, or really poorly.”

“Mm,” I agreed.

It didn’t take long to figure out how it went. The rest of the party proceeded as normal, and then we limped our way home for a day of rest, as was traditional after big events. We had plenty of talent to rotate in that night, and some to make outcalls. In truth, I’d put the events of that night out of my mind, until today, before I started writing.

More than a few politicians wanted meetings with us, delivered through Swint’s personal couriers, the way he usually did to help keep their business discreet. Kavan himself declared that he’d patronize our establishment at least once a week, which he knew would be free when he did. It was one of the perks of having connections that suited us.

And Mrs. Delia Swint? Their couriers sent her ripped green dress to me. Razia had been delighted to point out that at some point she’d put it back on and…personalized it, for me. It came with a note with one request: Delia wanted to occasionally work a night or two there.

Whether it was to be closer to me, or to re-experience what I gave to her, I don’t know. It made an impact on her, and I…don’t fear so much as anticipate that she will not let it go. I’m perfectly satisfied with the partners I have, so this was…The only word I can think of is complication. I don’t want Delia Swint, but I might need to play in the future to keep the party going.

Well. If nothing else, it would give me more chances to be creative. As Razia proved to me, I enjoy giving in to temptation. I enjoy drawing it out even more. Either way, the Garden goes on, and we’re one step closer to our goals. That’s good enough for now.