[m] there's a thunder in our hearts

POSTED: Tue Nov 27, 2018 2:04 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


it's go time. Tagging mature just in case!

It was never boring working nights, even when they ran like clockwork. With the influx of travelers and traders who came to port, the pieces always changed and the girls, how he loved to watch as they herded them into the same arrangements.

Of the ladies, there was one among them who stood out, and Calrian found himself frequently watching her as she worked the room. She was a true diamond in the rough, the lovely Julia, whose act was not overtly salacious or coarse, but always a touch more refined. Her conversation was never boring nor trite; it had a wit about it that hinted at a vast and varied experience. If he had to guess, he would say she wasn't born into this world - perhaps, she had even been a highborn lady, who had seen things and places beyond these muddied walls.

And like any good Lady of the Night, she knew what men liked. They wanted to be touched, yes, but more than that they wanted their egos to be stroked, and that is why they kept coming back for her. It was amusing to watch, and sometimes he and Driscoll would place bets on how long it would take for her to win over another client.

That evening, however, Calrian did not want to place any bets at all.

The man must have slipped in while the bar was busy, or Calrian had been off helping Malik prepare for his evening set. But by the time Calrian noticed him, it was almost too late. The man named Byron had made himself comfortable in one of the darker booths, and had two ladies - the new ladies, the ones who did not know any better - surrounding him on either side. To the average onlooker, the man was a great catch - he was handsome, well-spoken, and reeked of wealth. He came in so infrequently that most of the women he'd hurt had come and gone from the bar. He was a merchant, Calrian had discovered, whose trade took him up the coast, though he lived in the south.

People like Byron, Calrian had long ago decided, did not have a place in Portland. He didn't like to see the ladies cry and he didn't like to see his friends intimidated, threatened, and beaten out of their money. If Byron had wanted to swindle them, that was one thing, but a man like Byron took pleasure in one thing and one thing alone: pain.

From the bar, Calrian sipped at his mug of water and strained to listen to the table. He must have been staring too, because Driscoll, bless his lumbering heart, came up on the other side, wiping a cup in his hand with a dirty rag as he often did, and asked, So, what're the bets tonight, Cal?

What are we betting on? He threw a glance over his shoulder at the barkeep, smiling.

Well ain't that Julia going in for the kill? Lucky fella. Driscoll said with a sigh, before another patron down the bar slammed his mug and summoned him away.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He looked around the room until he saw her - beautiful, lovely Julia, making her way straight to the most vile man in the world. A sudden panic washed over Calrian, which was a highly unusual and unpleasant sensation and he did not care for it one bit, and he found himself for the first time in his life at a loss for words. He tried signalling at her, making a cautionary gesture with his hand cutting under his chin as if to say "quit while you're ahead", but she did not seem to notice as she slid into the booth and out of sight.


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Luperci

POSTED: Sat Dec 01, 2018 2:45 pm

She did not know the man for he was not a regular. Adrianna had not seen him in the tavern before nor was he even a prior customer of hers. She knew nothing of his violent natures or bloody fancies. For the moment, she had been unaware of such a person who was a dangerous client and no one had seen fit to warn the newer girls that the man was not to be trusted with proper treatment of the bodies they sold.

Besides, the man stank of wealth and salt. A trader of no poor skill, likely as not. While she was hardly the worst girl in the place, having had some months of practice winning over clients, she knew that she had to act properly to get the man's attention on her so she could dig her fingers into his purse while he worked on other things. Unfortunately, two of the other girls were already lapping at the proverbial bowl and clinging to him with their simpering chin quivers.

But Adri was hardly one to give up so easily. She may have had no other real talents, having failed to determine a trade she would be good at in Sapient, but flirtation and sexual gratification were by far her actual skills. Adjusting the halter dress that was barely better than a well-wrapped scarf, she settled the cloth between reasonable ample mounds and tightened the knot of her waist to emphasize it. Some men liked a thinner girl, some liked a meatier one. She was somewhere closer to thin, thanks to her genetics, but at least she knew what to do with her body.

As she walked to him and the two other girls, she caught a glimpse of a regular out of the corner of her eye signalling to her. He never asked for her services so she disregarded him for the bigger fish that waited to be caught on the line.

She slid into the booth, ignoring the weary and suddenly tired glances of the two girls, Mari and Ivy. They were both relatively young, just like Julia, but without her upbringing hiding exploits behind noblemen's backs. Without a word, she slid over much thinner Ivy's legs, pushing her away from the man who eyed her incredulously. But he was not displeased, she could tell, with her presumption and forceful moving of the other girl.

Girls, for shame, hiding such a marvel all to yourselves, she said, her voice lower than usual, into the huskier ranges. Her eyes were on the man, not the girls, as she settled in beside him, hand on his thigh as Mari's lips tightened in a frown. Ivy, sweet, I think there's a boy more your speed by the bar, she added, turning a slow glance at the waif and bat her eyes at her. Ivy smiled thinly and blew Byron a kiss as she slid out of the booth, storming toward the bar the moment her rear left the seat.

Adrianna Julia
So let go of wrong and right, cause who wants, who wants, who wants to dance all night?

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more than just a dance

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