It’s going to take forever to get this shit out of my hair, ugh – I hate the way troll’s blood smell. The only saving grace is that it sells for a pretty high price. Add that on top of my fee for clearing out this cave, makes this a pretty good gig.
Reaching in my rucksack, I grab a few flasks to collect as much blood as I can. The rest of my team can have the nails. Last time I tried to collect those, ended up breaking them and making them useless.
“Oi, Racheal, save some blood for me, will ya?”
“Piss off Thomas, you can have the hair.” He spits and suddenly I don’t mind the blood in my hair. The musky smell in my hair is one thing, but nothing is as bad as having it in your mouth.
“Bullocks, I get a hot sticky load in my mouth, no way I’m settling with just the hair.”
“Don’t act like this is the first time, Thomas.” It’s too easy to make the joke and even though its low hanging fruit, we all share the laugh.
“Least the bugger can do is take me to lunch first,” Thomas says taking a swig from his flask. He tells everyone it’s water, but from the ride over here, I could clearly tell it is Fae whisky. That’s one way to get rid of the taste. I toss him a bottle that I’ve filled, and keep the rest of them.
“Make sure that flask gets back to me. Those things aren’t cheap.”
“Cheaper than your brothel visits, eh,” he remarks. The rest of the group turn their eyes to me knowing that its true.
“One I have to fill up, the other fills me up, hardly comparable.” I get a bunch of nods of approval for my answer. “And for that remark, you don’t get another flask.” I say standing and getting a good look around. The variant shades of light coming from the bioluminescent life refreshes the beauty of the Underdark, replacing the grotesque images of the trolls that infested the caves a little too close to the city.
“Like you would give me another anyway.” Thomas says flipping his long icy blue hair out of his charcoal face. His red eyes, the typical Drow color, but hair a little more rare. Hard to believe that’s his natural color though, the stubble sneaking up on his face a telling sign.
“You’re damn right, you’re little more than a cheerleader. Sitting on the sidelines with your slingshot.”
“Where do you get the balls to call my pistol a slingshot?” He shows true offense.
“From your ex, she gave them to me after you weren’t using them.” A roar of laughter surrounds us.
“Come on you two, lets get back in the truck and get back home. If I’m going to deal with either of you anymore I’m going to need something cold in my hand or something hot in my mouth.” Clinton the priest says. There is a moment a silence as we turn to the scraggly man with the buzz cut hair and glasses.
“You don’t…,” Thomas starts but is quickly cut off.
“Don’t finish that sentence, realized it the second I said it. You both need to get right with the Gods.”
“Maybe you need a new group to work with,” I add.
“Unfortunately, this is the best group I’ve worked with in years. I’ve forgotten what its like to get hit by anything, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“So you do love us?” I smirk.
“Love is a very strong word.” Clinton responds and tucks his priest symbol in his pack and head for the back seat of our combat truck.
“Care to add anything?” I remark to Caitlyn, our Fae understudy. She closes her spell book and clutches it to her chest and shakes her head.
“No, I’m fine, but I would like the hair if Thomas isn’t going to use it.” Her voice too shy for the likes of us.
“What’s it to you, honey?” Thomas asks mock flirting. “Maybe for a little peck you can have it.” Caitlyn’s moss colored skin shows a bit of pink as she blushes.
“Never mind,” she says, then uses her magic to teleport back to the truck.
“This requires a woman’s touch,” I say, equipping my field knife.
“You forget, Drow women are closer to men in every other circle of society.” After cutting loose a couple locks of hair, I turn to him with a smile.
“Yeah, that may be true, but boobs make everything better,” I say patting at my breastplate. Clinton just shakes his head and walks to the truck.
We all pile in and head back to town, and as I predicted, Caitlyn takes the locks of hair from me happily. Not that Thomas thought for a second that my statement was untrue, but he still grumbles about it.
For the rest of the ride, I lean back in the front passenger seat and we call chat, well save for Caitlyn. The ride is relaxing. For all the shit I give Thomas, he’s the best driver we have. Fucking Rogues and Rangers, no matter what it is, they can drive it, hunt it, or kill it.
Making it back to base, we all turn in our quest and collect our rewards. The trolls weren’t expected by the requester, and per the current laws, that means a nice pay increase. This makes the blood in my hair and guts on my armor worth it.
The group wasn’t completely wrong when it comes to my brothel habits. The extra pay I wasn’t expecting would definitely get spent there. Back in my earlier years it was bars. That changed to strip clubs, then prostitutes, and now I guess I’m finally in the final stages.
Gods’ piss! why does that sound so depressing? Fuck society! If I find my release in the company of a man that I can pay to tend to my wounds and sexual appetite, then so be it.
And there is only one man I have in mind.
After placing down the seat covers I’ve gathered for this exact times, I put my truck in drive and head across town. I need a bath and there is no way I’m going to dirty my own with trolls blood.
The parking lot to my brothel of choice is packed again. It is the most popular in the capitol of the Underdark. Although the King is happily married, he and his wife could be found here from time to time. Them and any others from the Palace that cared to partake.
An endorsement from the rulers is just the thing to make this the place to be if this is the lifestyle you chose. Five floors of fun for all kinds of people didn’t hurt either. The first floor typically suits me just fine. I’ve never been in a couple and the kinkier shit on the third floor and up is out of my league.
I find a spot in one of the last VIP spots in the front. I knew that extra coin would come in handy at some point. That and it saves me a shitload in fighting assault charges. Drunks at bars are one thing, drunks at brothels are next level.
If the smell of troll remains bothered any of the staff, they either don’t show it or are just used to it by now. The clerk at the front tells me that my room is ready and to enjoy my stay. Having an app to schedule ahead is fucking useful.
It doesn’t take much to cut through the path of party goers in the lobby. A fully equipped in heavy armor Drow woman with a huge axe and shield tends to make a path. A few of the working men and even some of the working women shoot me different degrees of looks. Some of longing as they never make it past the audition process, some of irritation as they never have had the chance to service me and my generous tipping, and the rest were admirers of my loyalty.
This brothel has seen my face for over a year. A lot of my coin went into this place and I don’t regret a single choice. In that time, I found my go to man, and since then, none of the other working people have made it to my room. This was the cause of a lot of gossip and jealousy among the staff.
It isn’t uncommon for people who spend money like I do to have a favorite, but not all of them are as good to their person as I am. A few rules have been put in place due to the mistreatment of some of the workers. None of those rules have ever affected me.
I reach for my badge and swipe at the door, entering my private room puts me in a better mood instantly. The cool blues and deep purples cover the room to make beautiful art of the room. Soft candle light highlight the features of the room from the loveseat to the circular bed and to the bath that sits out on the balcony.
But none of the beauty of the room matches the well dressed Drow that sits on the bed with a whisky in his hand and a smile on his face. The vest suit he wears is classy and humble all in one with its shades of blues that come together to make him look classy but not royal. He made sure to roll up his long sleeves to show his tatted arms and hands, a small display of the ink that covered almost all of his body.
His beard well groomed along with his hair that is evenly parted and out of his face. Nothing should cover his face save for my thighs and an other part of me that I tell him to devour. The candlelight flames dance in his purple eyes and illuminate his ash colored skin.
“Madam Racheal, shall I get you out of that armor and bath you?” Trevor says standing from the bed.
“Fuck yes,” I say nearly changing that last word to me. Gods this man drives me to madness.
“It shan’t take but a moment Madam.” Trevor crosses the room and hands me the glass of Drow scotch. The aroma of the malt takes over the soft lavender that I’ve grown to associate with the room.
The snapping of buckles and undoing of latches give sensations indescribable as warmth drips down my throat and down my thighs. The thunking of the metal hitting the floor causes thudding in my chest from getting closer to being naked in front of Trevor. Gods the way the man’s eyes sing praises to my imperfect body makes me feel like one of those surface dwelling women.
My body is hard muscle, or if I’m honest with myself, plumpness covering muscle. Thick curves that come from improper dieting, but physically demanding work. And fucking Trevor treats me like I’m the queen herself.
Gentle touches over my many battle scars, heart fluttering kisses over my dirty skin, and wanting grabs on all the wrong parts of me. Or right if you ask my throbbing sex.
After stripping me down to my birthing suit, he takes my hand and guides me to the large bath. The bath cycles through water so none fo the clients have to sit in the fluids they create, or in my case with the dried blood, brought with them. Although I’ve made this decent into the almost jacuzzi like tub, he still guides me like I’m a lady.
If I am to once again allow honesty to come into play. I like it more than I let on. Proper Drow women are hardened warriors, not frilly little women, but the way this man caters to me makes me think of what it would be like if I were to pay his tab to free him and make him my husband.
“Would you like for me to join you now or give you a moment to relax Madam.” The way he calls me Madam must have increased the temperature in the room.
“Join me now. I need this Troll’s blood washed out of my hair.”
“As you wish, Madam.” Gods it gets me again.
He starts with his vest and button by button my pulse increases. His chest bulges outwards, and so does his gut. Ever so slightly, but it’s there. I believe other women called this a dad bod. I call it fucking hot as hell.
The clothes fall off of him and his magical rod hangs down, leaving my mouth to do the same. Though I’ve seen it, felt it, tasted it so many times, yet it always leaves my mouth watering.
After grabbing bathing essentiels, he joins me in the pool. I lean up to let him slide behind me, then lean into his body feeling his warmth, and for the first time tonight, his erection. It presses into my back and it takes all my power not to adjust myself to sit on it. Trevor is after all tending to a task I asked him to complete.
“More scotch,” I command, and within seconds he fills my glass. I continue to take sips as I slip into the comfort that I could never afford if it was charged properly. He massages my hair and combs through it with expert precision. Once my hair is clean, his hand grips and work into the muscles of my shoulders.
“Gods yes,” I whisper tilting my head back and finding his lips there to greet mine. A couple of pecks and I let him continue on with his massage. Well I may make him pause a couple more times to give him a taste of the scotch on my lips.
It doesn’t take long before he taking parts of my body out of the water to clean it. Getting to every piece of my body he makes sure all of me is clean. I look at him with eyes that display the message that I can’t wait to get it dirty again. He smiles to show he receives the message, but for now he just holds me and shares in the drinking.
At some point the alcohol gets my lips working and I tell him all about my day and all the other time I spent away from him. He laughs at my jokes, shows concerns at my troubles, and takes interests in all the things I find fascinating.
This is why Trevor is mine. Mine for now, no man belongs to me. Trevor is just mine for now.
Turning to face him, I set my glass down and put my hands on both sides of him, trapping him between me and the walls of the bath. I lean in and kiss him to find his hand on my neck and other on my ass. He lifts up so that I can slid him inside me without pushing the water in, but then settle back down, so that I can ride him while in the water.
This is what I need after a long day. His large cock inside me, his tongue taking claim to my mouth, and his hands gripping with longing. Our combined moans meld in our mouths as our bodys roll together. It doesn’t take long before we are in different positions all across the bath. Standing, from the back, me sitting on the edge while he slides between my thighs, and even him pressing me against the wall.
Our love making makes it too the bed at some point. Love making? I mean fucking. That’s what this is. He is fucking me into bliss from one end of this room to the next. There is no way his strokes are touching my soul and his kisses are setting my heart on fire. No, his deep passionate thrust come from a place of lust, not love.
“I love you, Trevor,” my heart says, but surly my mind would never let such dribble come out.
“I love you too, Racheal,” Trevor says rocking deep inside me making me burst with emotions and an orgasm. He said my name. He never says my name. I will make him pay for this. He knows better.
I kiss him and the rich vanilla from the scotch becoming synonymous with his own taste. Then I feel him cum inside me. Now is the time to push him off me and correct him for calling me Racheal. I wrap my legs around him and bask in the afterglow with his lips pulling more of my surrender with every kiss.
“I dared not tell you how I felt about you Racheal. It joys me so that you said it first.”
“I say a lot of things, especially when you’re fucking me.” There is a pause between us. I kiss his neck, but he doesn’t move. I grab his face and when I bring his lips to mine, he does kiss me back, but it’s different this time.
“What’s wrong?” I bite.
“Nothing Madam, I forget myself.” He returns to kissing me, but again his kisses don’t feel the same. I roll over on top of him and push his hands into the mattress.
“Why are you kissing me like that?”
“Like what Madam?”
“Is that not what you want?”
“You know what I want!” I bark.
“Clearly I’ve misjudged, but I shall give it a go.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing, Madam, where were we.”
“Tell me what that remark was supposed to mean.”
“It’s nothing, come now. You’ve paid for a full night of pleasure, lets not waste it bickering.” I move off of him and stand up.
“Not until you tell me what the fuck if wrong with you.”
“Madam, I am simply your whore. It was silly of me to think otherwise. I mean no offense by it. Come, let me finish my job.”
“My whore? If I wanted a whore I would pay trinkets.”
“Right, my apologies. I am your escort. Where are my manners. The difference in coin clearly make a difference in my role.”
“Is that an attitude I sense?”
“Yes Madam, it is,” He says getting up. “I fear I shall have to face punishment for not fulfilling my duties to completion tonight. I shall just have to take what wages were to go to me and place them back in your coiffer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m leaving, Madam!” He says storming across the room. I grab at his wrist, but he breaks my hold. He. Broke. My. Hold?
Racing to the Bath, he grabs his clothes and tries to leave, but I block the entrance.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my quarters. I can not finish tonight Madam,” He says, his face drawing a bit of anger to it.
“And why in the Gods name not?”
“Because, I… I love you.”
“What?” Hearing the words, understanding them, but being floored by them anyway.
“I love you, Madam. I know, how silly of me to love someone when I’m but a whore. Sorry and expensive whore.” He tries to move past me, but is unable to. He huffs and gestures. “Madam, I would like to leave. I can’t be here right now.”
“You,” I gulp. “You love me?” He sighs.
“Yes, Madam. I know I shouldn’t have, it’s highly improper of me, but I can’t help myself.”
“How do you know that this is love?” There is a burning in my eyes. Fuck those candles are closers than I realize.
“My heart aches when you leave me Madam. Each day I pray to see your name show on my schedule. When I have a moment to myself. I think of your safety and wish you would put down your sword. But can’t imagine if you did because you wouldn’t be you. Plus I love hearing your stories of adventure.” There is a silence that falls. He wipes at his eyes and gestures once more. “Madam, I need to leave.”
I don’t move. How can I? A new warmth takes over my body and I can’t describe it. The world seems to slow down as Trevor shivers and by the Gods are those tears. I’m going to throw up. The sight of seeing him hurt drives me to such rage, but when I realize that I’m the reason for them, guilt twist my stomach.
Trevor walks forward and wipes at my eyes. Fucking candle smoke. It has me tearing as well. His clothes hit the floor and his arms surround me. He pulls me into a hug and emotions wrack my body so that hot tears spurt form my eyes.
“Please stay,” I manage between sobs. I feel his lips press to my forehead and I lean up to see his eyes are full of tears as well.
“Of course Madam.” He lifts me and my legs wrap around him as tightly as I can. He walks us over to the bed and once the cover draps over us, I start to kiss anywhere my lips land. My tears still heavy with grief he just wipes them away and tells me its okay.
“Why am I such a fuck up?”
“You’re not, Madam,” he says I hit him.
“Don’t fucking call me that!” I sob into his shoulder more.
“Racheal, its okay, Love.” Love, I’ve never been called that before. Even though it’s a popular slang thrown about to anyone for any reason. Somehow it never made it’s rounds to me. Until now.
“It’s not. I fucking suck.”
“You don’t. You’re a proper Drow, unlike me.”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re perfect. I’m the bitch that can’t admit that I love you.”
“But you did, Love. You may not have done it with your words, but you showed it far deeper than I could show.” I kiss him. I kiss him again. I kiss him again and again until we are a tangle of limbs and merged body parts that begin and end with the love in our hearts.
“Good morning, Love.” I hear as my eyes flutter open. My lips find their way open to take in Trevor’s tongue. I move back tasting the morning breathe on my tongue, but Trevor takes me by my throat pulls me back. I reach up and pull him down to me.
“Why the fuck are you clothed?”
“Love, it’s eight in the morning. I have other clients.”
“The fuck you do!” I sit up.
“Love, I am.”
“Were an escort. I’m going to go fix that right now.”
“Call me that again, and I’ll thump you,” I bite.
“Racheal. Be logical. It would take a massive amount of coin to pay for my freedom.”
“And you’re worthy every bit of it. Now get me my armor and help me don it.” Trevor tries to fight a smile, but can’t seem to hold it back. While equipping me, he makes comments of how nice a gesture I am making, but it’s not necessary.
“Trevor, if you are to be my mate, I will need you to shut up when I tell you.”
“If I am to be your mate, I need to be able to insert logic when you are being illogical.”
“You can’t be my mate if I don’t do something illogical.”
“If this is truly your wish, then let this be the last time, yea?”
“No promises but I’ll try.” I reach out to shake on our deal. He gives me a kiss instead.
The lobby is much emptier for the morning than the night time, but there are few people about with cups of coffee and entertaining a few workers. They give confusing looks in my direction. It has to be in my direction, because if any of them are looking at Trevor that way, paying for his freedom won’t be the only illogical thing I do today.
“Ms. Racheal, did you have any issues with Trevor?” The clerk says.
“Quite the opposite. I’m taking him with me. Bring me his papers,” I say it loud enough to cause a stir in the lobby.
“Ms. Rachel, I can’t do that. He has appointments all the way out till, Ah!” She screams when I snatch her form across the counter.
“I don’t remember asking you for anything other than his papers. I will compensate any inconveniences that this may incur.” Putting emphasis on any, I toss her back to her side of the counter. I hear Trevor’s feet shuffle closer to me when the security guards draw their weapons. When I turn around, they take a step back.
Oh no, did you forget about the S-rank emblem on my armor piece?
“Please make my day,” I say, ignoring Trevor’s attempts to calm me.
“There will be no need for that,” The Madam of the Brothel says coming from the back. I turn to face her. “Racheal, you’re one of our most valued members, I would hate to cause a stir with you. How can we resolve this?”
“Give me his papers, and let me leave with him.”
“That’s a bit irrational don’t you think?” Love is irrational.
“Possibly, but I’m well within my rights to do so.”
“But you must see my dilemma.”
“No not really.”
“I can’t let you just buy one of our best workers. Doing that will plummet sales and profits. If you buy him, you will effectively take away your money away. And where will I find another worker?”
“Not really my problem. But I can meet you in the middle.”
“I buy him. And I’ll give you an extra ten percent of his total debt split into one year payements. In that year, any new patrons I find, I will take my usually referral fee and apply to my credit. I am an S-rank bounty hunter. We make six figues. Think about the clientele I could bring in.” There is a silence while she thinks it over. After glancing at the computer she grins.
“You’re willing to pay two hundred thousand for him now?”
“Lying to me will get your tongue ripped out and me leaving with him anyway. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought of buying him. I know down to the last penny what his debt is.”
“Fine, eighty grand.”
“Seventy-eight thousand, five hundred and twenty three dollars and forty two cents.” The Madam twist her face in confusion. “Tell your clerks to take off their glasses when you try to bluff me.” The Madam turns to the clerk who locks the computer and steps away.
“At least let him work tonight.”
“I might have allowed that if you didn’t just try to hustle me. Now, I don’t give a fuck if the King and Queen scheduled him for tonight.” I take his hand. “He’s coming with me and he’ll never see the place again if it’s not his wish.” With my free hand I reach in the compartment inside my breastplate and pull out my card.
“And yes I want my receipt.”
- A Bloody Start
- A Song of Passion
- For Good Girls
- Broken Promises
3 thoughts on “Underdark Stories pt 1: A bloody Start”