Rhythempoets

Home of authors Holly Hunt & Jophrael L. Avario

Taragin’s Hope – Story Sample


The man on top of me stank of stale beer, his eyes half-crossed, his thrusts completely uncoordinated. I closed my eyes, feeling his half-hard rod flopping out of position. He continued to runt against me, not realising in his drunken state. He panted, his beer-breath almost making me throw up, and I felt his body shudder. He was finished.

The man rolled over, not even thinking of cleaning himself up. He folded himself into his trousers, pulling a handful of bills from his pocket and throwing them at me as though I were a diseased sociopath trying to rob him.

His mumbles and mutters followed him out of the door. I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the twenties, cleaning myself up. The drunken bastard had messed on me.

Six more men filled the night, each substantially drunker than the last. The final one couldn’t even get his rod hard enough for me to lie there and let him rut. I had to get down on my knees and give him encouragement.

My last customer of the night opened the door as I sat on the edge of the bed. I wasn’t all that surprised by his looks—rich men often came to me, rather than one of the other girls—but I was surprised by his age. He could only have been twenty. Why would he need the services of a Lady of the Night?

“Alisha Sullivan?” he asked softly, removing his hat and coat, and hanging them on the hatstand.

I was quiet. I didn’t know how this man knew my old name, and I didn’t care. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I hadn’t been that girl for ten years.

“I only take cash,” I croaked, straightening the bra my last customer had merely pushed aside.

“I’m not here for that.”

“Then what are you here for?” I asked, watching him. “I don’t do anything freaky. Not without proper payment.”

“I said I’m not here for that,” he snapped.

“Then why are you in this place?” I demanded. “There’s no one here but perverts and Ladies of the Night.”

“I need one of the Ladies, that’s true,” he said, sitting on a chair. “But not for what they have become. I need one for what they used to be.”

I coughed a laugh. “The Ladies of the Night are whores. Always have been, always will be.”

“No. Not always have been.” He shook his head, his glassy blue eyes staring at me blindly. “Every Lady was once a woman, a child, a sister. Each has a history that they have forgotten in their existence.”

“Well, they’re not that now. So either pay me or get out.”

He shook his head again, settling deeper into the chair. “You’re not listening.”

“I don’t have to listen.” I stood up, pulling a thin, transparent gown on. His blind eyes were giving me the impression that he could see me. “Get out.”

“What if I told you I could find your mother for you, Alisha?”

I hesitated, but ignored him. “Out.”

“Fine.” He held his hands up, standing up. He pulled something out of a pocket, and left it on the chest of drawers beside my small mirror. “When you want out of the gutter, give me a call.”

I studiously ignored the card, watching him. “Do I look like I have a telephone, even if I wanted to call you?”

The man’s half-smile was both amused and annoyed. “Then I will visit every night until you say yes, Alisha.” His blind eyes slipped down my body, making me pull the transparent gown tighter. “Have a good day.”

He was gone in a few seconds, his card the only thing that proved he had been there. I snatched it off the dresser, of a mind to tear it up, but stopped, noticing the name on the card. Daniel Artisri.

I sighed, tucking the card away into my secret compartment, hidden inside a hollow brick in the wall. If I needed it, it would be there. But I wouldn’t put any hope in it. Simply sharing the name of the saint and knowing my old name wouldn’t make me believe he could help me.

“Karoline! Have you made yourself up yet?” Mistress Calina’s voice came through the door. There must be another customer waiting for me.

“Yes.”

The door opened as I sat down on the edge of the bed. Some drunk bastard stumbled in, saw me, and grinned in a familiar way. I groaned internally as he sat on me, drunkenly shoving my bra and panties out of the way.

Daniel’s offer was seeming like a godsend right about now. I closed my eyes, shutting out the hope. This was my life now, and his offer wouldn’t change that.

Advertisements

October 10, 2010 - Posted by | Story Samples, Writing

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

%d bloggers like this: