Perilous Jaunt Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Dante
After the incident on the road, we had ridden for four whole days on the tamed horses we had stolen until we reached a town that was right over the border between Capres' and Ulpis' Kingdoms. It was dark when we arrived and the town was nearly dead, aside from a handful of drunkards that stumbled through the streets.
We had dismounted our tamed horses and walked beside them as we looked for a tailor's shop, where we could buy Peter some clothes. A part of me didn't want to stop so early, but I assumed that we were safe, now that we were in Ulpis' Kingdom.
I glanced back at Peter, who walked beside Esme with his hands untied -we had untied them a mile out of the town- and looked around with droopy eyes that yearned for sleep. I then looked at Esme, who walked unusually slow while she guided her horse with a limp hand on its reigns. Neither of them had complained during the last few days while we were riding; yet, I was able to see how exhausted they were. Peter, surprisingly, even hardly ever spoke! I also noticed that both of them were going to sleep earlier and earlier each night.
Thank God that the Ulpis Family hated Capres. Apparently, there was some tension between the two kings after the Yurl War. For some odd reason, Capres felt like his fight against the South had failed because Ulpis had hardly supplied any men. Capres was correct. Ulpis supplied the least amount of men to the Northern army, even less than the Iron Pass, which was the smallest Northern Capital!
One day, months after the fighting had ended, Capres had sent some of his knights to Ulpis to demand that the he surrender a huge portion of his land and money as payment. Ulpis refused and the knights became violent. Ulpis' wife was killed in the skirmish and, as a result, Ulpis sent all of the heads of the knights back to Capres in little green boxes with red bows on top of them. Capres never sent more men. After all, Ulpis hadn't contributed most of his men to the war effort like Capres had, which meant he currently had a much larger military force than Capres. After that bloody incident, I didn't imagine that they talked much. Works for us.
_ _ "Shouldn't we hide until morning?" Peter asked. "The tailor probably won't be awake until then,"
"Don't worry about it," I assured him, as I turned my head to face forward again. "We have enough coin to get him out of bed,"
"Don't worry?" Peter said. "You're not the one who'll get skinned alive if those knight catch up with us. You'll get a clean decapitation, you lucky bastard,"
"It's all right, Tiny Prince," Esme assured him. "I won't let anybody hurt you!"
Peter only became even more jittery. "They'll kill you, too, Esme! Why aren't you scared?"
Esme chuckled and called out to me. "You wanna tell him or should I?"
"Ladies first!" I said.
After Esme told the tale of Ulpis slaying all of Capres' men and revealed that Capres had a smaller army, Peter became slightly calmer. "Oh... I never knew that,"
"Nobody ever told you?" Esme wondered in disbelief.
"No," Peter answered. "My dad always says that rumors make you paranoid, so he never really listens or talks about gossip"
"Not a bad philosophy," I said, "but, in practically every tavern I've been to in the North, I've heard the exact same story. So, chances are it's much more than a common rumor,"
"We could go to Ophylius and ask Ulpis himself," Esme suggested, humorously.
I laughed at the joke and tried not imagine what kind of bloody response Ulpis would give us.
"Hey, Dante" Esme called to me.
My ears perked up and I turned my head around to look at the kangaroo, who was pointing at a wooden two-story building, which was windowless and had been painted with a luscious crimson color.
"Feel like getting a whore?" Esme asked, grinning.
I blinked and thought for a moment. Then, I shrugged. It had been a long time since I had shared a bed with someone. "Sure. It's been a while,"
Esme lowered her hand and pulled her horse to a stop. "Damn. I was just kidding. You must be really pent up!"
"Never joke about whores, Esme," I smiled, bringing my horse to a stop as well and turning around to face Esme. "They're a serious matter,"
"As serious as the diseases you'll get from them?" Esme asked.
"Even more serious than that,"
"Wow, that's really fucking serious,"
"Why aren't there any windows?" Peter asked, interrupting the joking between Esme and I.
The kangaroo sighed and looked down at Peter. "You really don't know?"
Peter shook his head.
"There's no windows, Tiny Prince," Esme explained, "because anybody could just stand outside and get a free show. And you know how whores are. They're never free,"
"Oh," Peter said.
Esme turned her head and spoke to me again. "I don't have a lot of money, so we'll just wait out here for you to finish before we go to the tailor,"
"Okay," I said, as I stepped forward to give the reigns of my horse to Esme. "I'll just be a minute,"
"A minute?" Esme scoffed as she took the reigns from me. "I think you can do better than that!"
"Fine," I played along. "Two minutes,"
"Atta boy!"
I turned and walked to the front door of the brothel, leaving Esme and Peter standing alone with the horses. Fear struck me with a fiery slash against my chest when I thought that paying for a whore would completely empty my purse. However, once I recalled filling my purse with a handsome sum of gold I found in the saddlebags of our new horses, my fear was put to rest.
The door of the brothel was a shade of black and held out a metal doorknob, which reflected my eyes and the weariness that hung in them. After looking away from my reflection, the icy doorknob kissed my hand as I turned it and creaked the door open.
A flood of perfume poured out of the brothel to meet me as I took a step inside. My nostrils quickly began to burn from the scents of lavender, vanilla and violet that flooded around me. The scents were so strong that it felt as though I had actually drank the perfumes that had made them.
After taking a moment to shut the door, I began to only breathe through my mouth and glanced around the welcome room. To be frank, the room was not grand in its size. It would have been possible to fit fifteen people into it, but certainly no more. To my right, there lay a dark walnut table that had been pushed against the wall. Upon its body, the table was decorated with a few dozen purple candles, which waved at me with their tiny speckles of flame. Then, I looked forward and noticed a desk, which held a book that was twice as thick as a man's arm, a quill that was dipped into an inkbottle and small wooden chest that was no larger than five inches tall. Behind the desk, sat a female ostrich, who wore a loose, drab, brown dress with a sapphire colored scarf. Definitely not a whore.
_ _ "Hello," the ostrich greeted me as I carefully walked forward.
I returned the affable gesture. "Hello,"
"How are you doing this evening?" she asked.
"I'm doing well. Thank you,"
"I'm Mary," the ostrich said, "and I own this establishment. Now, before you can enjoy yourself, we must deal with the matter of payment,"
Away! Corrupter! Here Women are none for sale!
_ _ "Of course," I said. "What are your rates?"
"Ten gold an hour. Fifty for the whole night," Mary gladly informed me.
"All right then," I said and swung my knapsack off of my back. I pulled out my purse and took ten gold pieces from inside of it. Then, I put my purse back in my knapsack, retied my knapsack closed and placed it on my back again. I then moved closer to Mary and set a small tower of neatly stacked coins on the edge of her desk. "Here you are,"
"Thank you," Mary chirped and slid the coins towards herself. She then counted them one by one. After she finished counting, Mary opened her bulky tome and scribbled something down inside of it with her quill.
She then set the quill back in its inkbottle and closed her book. "Now that that's done, we can move on to business. Do you have a specific preference?"
Now, to their credit, brothels may spray too much perfume, but they never judge you for whatever it is that you like. Gay, straight or bi, they don't give a damn what your sexuality is. At the end of the day, all they care about is their coin.
"Um," I said. Truthfully, I hadn't really considered what I was in the mood for. Then again, the last handful of times I visited a brothel, I had chosen women to sleep with. So, I decided that I would choose a male whore this time. "I'd like a man. Species doesn't matter,"
"Would you like a masculine one or someone more feminine?" Mary further questioned.
Again, I thought for a moment. Feminine whores, in my experience, were more interesting to talk with after sex. The masculine ones just tended to keep their sentences short or grunt a lot. "Give me someone feminine,"
"Okay," Mary said, as she rose from her seat and picked up her chest full of coins. "Follow me, please,"
I turned left and followed Mary through an open archway. We both proceeded to walk down a hallway, which had a bright red carpet that seemed to stretch on for miles. A small chandelier with only about twenty lit candles hung in the middle of the hallway, providing barely enough light for me to be able to see. To both my right and left, there were doors, all of which were shut and painted in the same light shade of purple.
"These are the girls' rooms," Mary explained. "The boys are upstairs,"
Neither of us spoke as we reached the end of the hallway and began to climb up a single flight of stairs that led us to another hallway with more doors. These doors, unlike the ones on the ground floor, were painted gold. There also was another chandelier, like the one downstairs, hanging in the center of the hallway. However, since this hallway was a slightly more compacted, the chandelier was about half of the size as its brethren.
We strode down the hallway until we reached the very end. Mary then stopped and turned to face me with an outstretched arm towards the door on my right. "Here you are," she said. "And remember, you only have an hour,"
"Thank you," I said, as she brushed beside me and walked back towards the stairs. "I won't forget,"
"That's what they all say," Mary replied, as she slowly strutted down the hall.
Once the ostrich had left me alone, I turned and stood in the doorframe, gazing at the door. My heart began to drum inside my chest and my stomach began to tighten into uneasy knots. Even though it wasn't my first time with a whore, it still wasn't entirely easy for me. In brothels, you are expected to just walk into a room and start having sex with somebody that you've never met before. I didn't know how some people did it without even the slightest feeling of trepidation. Still, the growing urgency to share myself with someone nagged at me.
A soothing stream of air filled my belly as I drew in a calming breath. I had to remind myself that I was never going to see this whore again. He also probably had plenty of clients, so the chances of him remembering me were incredibly slim, even if we did run into each other again someday.
_ I could just leave._ No. I couldn't leave now. I had already paid Mary and it would have been awkward walking by her right after she had just escorted me to my whore's room. She would probably ask me if something was wrong and I would have to come up with some poor lie, as if I were some boy that had never slept with anybody before.
After taking yet another breath through my nose and exhaling out through my mouth, I reached down to turn the doorknob before stepping inside of the room.
The room itself was of a quaint nature. To my left was a mud-brown wardrobe that was pushed up against the wall. Adjacent to the wardrobe and on its left side sat a small table that held six or seven lit candles, which were as thin as icicles. A single circular purple carpet lay in the center of the room, covering a portion of the sleek brown floor. Across from where I stood, a bed stretched out towards me, its head pressed firmly against the wall. The head of the bed also had several assorted lavender, pink and white pillows spread out across it.
In the middle of the bed, there lay a young buck that was wrapped in the embrace of a white robe that clung to his lean body. He appeared to be around eighteen years old and seemed about my height, even though his antlers had obviously been trimmed down. From where I stood, his green grass eyes seemed to glow with the same intensity as two coals fresh from a blazing fire.
The young buck sat up on the bed, stretching out his slender legs as he did so. He displayed a smile as he spread his legs wide enough so that I could see up his robe and catch a glance at his flaccid sheath. "Mmm," he moaned. "Mary sent me somebody cute this time,"
If that line was rehearsed, it wasn't obvious. Although, spreading his legs and "accidently" revealing himself to me ruined the illusion that he was trying to establish, even if it was very arousing.
"Only 'cute'?" I teased. "Not 'handsome' or 'astonishing'?"
He chuckled lightly and I was unsure if he was pretending to be amused. "I don't think my words could do your looks justice,"
"Why?" I asked. "Are you not talented with you mouth?"
The boy grinned and slid towards the end of the bed. His robe opened even more, exposing the rest of his body to me. His belly appeared to white and as soft as snow, telling me that he had never preformed a day of manual labor. And, just below his soft stomach that I so strongly desired to kiss, hung his sheath.
"Talking is one thing," he said, "making a man moan is another,"
I smiled at his jocose wit. "I'll take you up on that,"
"Oh," he moaned once more. "I certainly hope so,"
The buck rose, his robe now completely open, and walked to my right.
I closed the door and realized that it had been blocking a small round table to my right, which was pressed up against the wall. There were two chairs that were on opposite sides of the table. The buck had sat down in the one furthest from the door and began pouring wine from a flagon into two nearby bronze goblets.
By the time I had sat down across from the young boy, he had already filled both goblets and slid one across the table towards me.
"Free wine?" I said, as I gradually picked the goblet up from the table. "I must admit, I've never gotten a drink from a whore before,"
Immediately, my tail twitched against my thigh in horror at what I had just said. I was about to apologize for calling the boy a whore and not a prostitute, but he must have seen the worry on my face because he stopped me before I could speak.
"I'm not your usual whore," he said, as he placed the flagon to the side and picked up his cup to take a tiny sip. "You'll learn that for yourself when you fuck me in a moment,"
The boy then lowered his goblet away from his enticing lips and placed it down onto the table, just before leaning back in his chair. "But, before we fuck our brains out, I'd like for us talk over some wine,"
I forced myself to smile before drinking some of my own wine, allowing myself to relax, since the boy took no offense to me calling him a whore. "Do you always get your clients drunk?"
He placed his fingers around the stem of his goblet and slowly rotated it on the table. "Just enough so they don't hold back in bed. I wouldn't want them to feel like they didn't get their money's worth. Bad for business if they do,"
I lifted my glass again to gingerly take another sip. "You sound more like a merchant friend of mine than you do a prostitute,"
"Really?" he said. "Do you want to pretend that I'm him?"
I almost choked on my wine. "God, no. I don't think of him like that. He's just a merchant friend I visit for certain...things. You just remind me of him,"
"Well," the buck laughed, "I guess I should have been a merchant instead of a whore,"
A small laugh broke its way to freedom from inside of my throat. "To business then," I cheered and raised my goblet before finishing off the remaining wine inside of it.
Surprisingly, I had just realized, the wine was refreshingly sour and my tongue tingled at its very touch. It had been quite sometime since I had some well-brewed wine. Come to think of it, I hadn't drunk anything but water from streams since the night I ran into Peter at the tavern in Cainrin. It was nice to feel the child-like giddiness that comes along with alcohol once again.
I had barely set my goblet down onto the tabletop before my companion began to refill it.
"My name is Phillip, by the way," he announced, as a pool of red reached the brim of my goblet. He then pulled the flagon back and set it to the side once more.
I stacked my arms on top of each other and slightly hunched forward against the table. "Is that your real name, or the one you use for your clients?"
"Who knows?" Phillip said as he shrugged with a smirk. "And what's your name?"
"Dante," I answered, as I withdrew my arms from the table and sat upright. "My name is Dante,"
"And is that your real name?" Philip said.
"No," I said and took another drink of refreshing wine.
"So, Dante," Philip said, as I clinked my goblet back down on the table, "where are you from?"
"Lowpive," I answered, strangely aware of every hair on my body prickling with uneasiness.
"Is that true?" Phillip said, tilting his head back and staring down his muzzle at me.
"Yes,"
"Why should I believe you," Phillip spoke, "when you've already lied to me once?"
I stared into Phillip's light green eyes and found myself, for a moment, hypnotized by their beauty. Something about their warmth made me want to answer him honestly. For a moment, it felt as though I could trust him with anything, as if he would keep my all of my secrets hidden from the world outside of the room we currently inhabited. But, instead of succumbing to the temptation of revealing everything, I blinked and looked at his nose to make it seem as though I were still making eye contact with him.
"Have you ever been to the beach in Lowpive?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't notice that I wasn't looking directly at his eyes any longer.
"No," Phillip answered, as he took a small drink. "I can't say I have. I haven't even seen the Fanged Peaks before,"
"It's beautiful," I began. "All of the beaches up here in the North can't even be compared to the ones in Lowpive. The sand isn't brown like mud and can even be mistaken for snow if you don't look closely enough. The water -God, the water- is bluer than the sky and is clearer than even the sunniest morning. And the craziest thing is that it's actually warm! In fact, it's so warm that nobody in Lowpive uses bathhouses. They just walk into the sea and clean themselves off. You can't even walk a step without seeing somebody bathing their screaming children or washing their clothes in the calm placid water,"
My mouth was now dry from my elongated description of Lowpive, so I took a large gulp of wine, finishing half of the goblet.
"Wow," Phillip said with wide eyes. "That sounds beautiful. You describe it like some kind of poet,"
I snickered as I set my goblet down. "I'm not a poet. I enjoy reading poetry, but I can't write it to save my ass. So, do you believe that I'm from Lowpive now?"
"No," Phillip said with a grin.
My ears flicked and I began to feel a diminutive sphere of frustration expanding inside of me. "Why not?"
"Your clothes and the weapons you carry tell me a different story," Phillip replied steadily, retaining his coolness. "They say that you travel a lot and have seen many places. How do I know you didn't just choose a place you've been to off the top of your head?"
I did not reply.
_ _ "Since you won't talk about where you're from," Phillip continued, recognizing my silence as a sign of guilt, "let's talk about your family. Do you have a wife?"
I snorted deridingly and guzzled down the rest of my wine. "Why would I come to a brothel if I had a wife?"
Phillip shrugged and refilled my goblet with a prideful smirk. "Plenty of married men come here. Most of their wives won't give them what they want, but a few of them secretly like men,"
"Does Ulpis have laws against gay people, like Capres does?"
"No," Philip answered and put down the flagon after my goblet was full yet again. "He's the only king north of the Fanged Peaks that doesn't persecute gays. Still, if people find out you're gay here, some very bad things tend to happen,"
"Like?" I asked, taking another mouthful of refreshing wine.
"You know how people are," Phillip said. "When they find out a faggot is living among them, they get a bit uneasy. Eventually, people look at you weird on the street, some of your things go missing and eventually some asshole attacks you. Hell, just the other day, one of my regulars got stabbed by one of his neighbors. Apparently, you could smell another man's cum on my client and his neighbors figured out that he was a gay. The law may not be against us, but, as long as people never change their minds, our lives will be a living hell,"
"Close mindedness," I sighed and put my goblet down. "It's the root of all the world's problems,"
Phillip nodded. "So, back to your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
For a moment, I questioned what I should have told him. If I lied again, he probably would have been able to tell that I was trying to deceive him. But if I told the truth...
"Well?" Phillip asked, interrupting my contemplation.
I took a deep sigh and sank deeply into my chair. "I have five brothers,"
Phillip's ears twitched curiously and he kept his eyes locked on me. "Are you the oldest?"
I shook my head. "No. The youngest,"
"What about your parents?" Phillip prodded. "What do they do for a living?"
"I'd rather not discuss my parents right now," I snapped at the boy.
Phillip raised his goblet and took a drink. He then gazed down into the wine, smiling still, as if he already knew the answer to his question. "Why? What are you trying to hide?"
"I have something to hide just because I don't feel like talking about my parents?" I said, acting offended in an effort to dodge any further inquiries. "Maybe I just don't want to be thinking about my mom and dad before I get into bed with a wh-...prostitute!"
"I've been a whore," Phillip said and lowered his goblet after taking another sip, his grin untainted by a single drop of wine, "for a good three years now. And I've yet to meet a client that refused to talk about themselves. So..."
"So?" I asked, after a long unnerving silence had passed.
"So," Phillip resumed his thought, obviously taking pleasure in knowing that I was made uncomfortable by his puerile game, "why did you run away from home?"
Silently and motionlessly, I stared at the buck. My muscles, bones and blood had all become stone.
"How did I know?" Phillip wondered rhetorically, as if he had read my mind like some kind of soothsayer. "Let me ask you a question. Do you think I just woke up one morning and decided to work in a whorehouse?"
I swallowed my ever tightening throat and was finally able to form some kind of response. "No,"
"No," Phillip confirmed, as he slowly shook his head. "I didn't. I was forced into it. And I know exactly how it feels to be forced into something that you don't want. You feel like the walls are crushing your sides and that the world is against you. Nothing helps. Not fucking. Not drinking. Not whores. You walk around with this misery that taints everything around you. I can see it, that same misery, in your eyes. Who gave it to you, I wonder? A parent? A friend? A brother? A lover?"
Finally, I was able to guzzle down what little wine I had left in my goblet, just before banging my cup back down onto the table. Maybe it was because I was tired, all of the wine I had drunk or those damn eyes of Phillip's that seemed to burn me with every glance, but, somehow, I actually managed to allow the words to escape from my mouth and fill the air between us. "My...father,"
Phillip filled my cup again and leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together. "What did he do to you, Dante?"
I looked down and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the fresh lake of wine inside my goblet. I shuddered at the sight of my reddening eyes and glanced away from it to stare at the surface of the table. "He beat me and said...'No son of mine is going to be a faggot,'"
"And your mother?" Phillip asked, his voice still un-betraying to his emotions. "What did she do?"
I tilted my head back and chugged the entire goblet, feeling the cool streams of liquor tickling every muscle in my throat with chilly fingers as it poured into my belly. I then put the goblet down, almost dropping it off the table as I did so. It was then that I realized that my mind had become somewhat dulled and my head took a little more effort to hold up.
"Nothing," I answered him.
"How old where you," he began to ask, "when your dad started hitting you?"
The sudden desire to belch seized me, but I repressed it. I wasn't that drunk. Yet, I wasn't sober enough to neither ignore nor avoid the question. "Seventeen,"
A silence as thick as fog wrapped its arms around us. Neither of us moved, nor appeared to be even breathing. We just sat there, him staring at me and I staring back at him with slightly droopy eyes. Together, we were lost in the momentary silence.
Then, Phillip scooted his seat back and rose. His robe slid back off of his now bare body and clung to the chair that he had been sitting in. Carefully, he trotted around the table and stood next to me. Phillip's sheath was just inches away from me and was soon blocked by an outstretched hand that he extended to me. I stared at his hand for a moment and then gazed up into his green emerald eyes, which were just as hypnotic as ever.
"Come on," he beckoned, sweetly. "Let's go to bed,"
"No," I said.
"No?" he asked. "You're not going to fuck a whore that you've already paid for?"
"No," I explained, "I am. I just... I just want one more drink,"
He blinked and thought for a moment. "Are you sure? Too much wine can keep your cock from getting hard,"
"Please," I uttered almost lifelessly, "just pour me one more,"
Philip stood there next to me for a brief second. At first, I feared that he would refuse to give me another goblet. But, a moment later, he reached across the table to grab the flagon and then poured until wine reached the very brim of my goblet.
"Thank you," I mumbled, as Phillip set the flagon down again. "You're a saint," I then guzzled the entire goblet down.
"I'm no saint," Phillip said. "Whores can't be saints,"
After finishing my drink and taking a deep sigh, I placed the goblet down onto the wooden table. I then looked back up at Phillip. "Mary Magdalene was,"
The buck's ears twitched curiously. "Who?"
"Never mind,"
Phillip silently held out his hand to me again, beckoning me to stand. Without a word, I placed my hand in his and stood up. After rising to my paws, Phillip smiled at me, in an effort to show that everything was all right. He then turned and guided me over to the bed, almost gliding across the room.
We drifted to the end of the bed, where Phillip turned and sat his pale hindquarters down. Without the slightest sign of hesitation, he then began to slowly undo my belt. After he had unlatched the buckle of my belt, he slid the leather from around my waist and then dropped it onto the ground, where the metal buckle loudly clanked as it slammed against the carpet. His nimble fingers then crawled their way up to my hips and dove into the sides of my trousers. From there, Phillip slid my trousers down, gently brushing the fur on my legs as he did so. Soon, he pulled my trousers past my groin, my thighs and my knees, until they finally became two crinkled piles around my boots.
The buck arched his head up and gazed at the bulge in my loincloth. He then leaned forward to lightly rub his nose, which was as black as coal, against it. A stirring began to whirl inside of me and I could feel a familiar wildness overtaking my mind.
"Enjoying yourself?" Phillip asked breathily while he looked up at me, keeping his head still. I was unable to tell if he was smiling, since my crotch was in the way, but I assumed that he was.
"Very much," I said, "but I prefer a mouth over a nose,"
"As you wish," he whispered.
He pulled his head back from my groin and brought his hands to the sides of my loincloth. Slowly, he slid his warm fingers into the waistband and began to pull the garment down towards my knees. Now, after Phillip stopped pulling my loincloth down, my sheath hung in front of his face and only covered half of my erect cock.
Phillip raised his right hand and tenderly placed it on my growing shaft. "Only halfway ready? Well...we'll have to do something about that,"
Carefully, his fingers tightened around my growth and pressed it against the center of his hand. Then, he began to slowly bring his hand back and forth against my length, beckoning it further and further out of its sheath.
Once I was completely engorged, Phillip eased his head close to my hardness and tenderly ran his moist tongue over its pointed tip. A shiver ran down my spine and I had to force my legs to not shake with euphoria at the silkiness of Phillip's tongue.
He then wasted no time in completely engulfing me with his mouth, which blindsided me. Out of all the whores I had spent the night with, none of them had taken me into their mouths in one fluid motion, or without a little preparation. In fact, he reminded me of a glutton that continually tosses feasts of food into their mouths and washes them down with a gallon of wine, only to repeat the process continuously. Back and forth he rocked, completely consuming every inch of me with wet delight. It went without saying that he certainly had talent.
Then, as I sensed myself drawing close to a finish, Phillip drew his mouth to my tip and pulled his head away from me, leaving my shaft covered in a blanket of drool.
Philip pulled himself completely onto the bed and turned around, just before getting on all fours to display his beckoning backside, which was as white as a full moon, with his tiny white-tipped tail raised high in the air.
Never have I ever undressed so quickly. I unlaced my boots and kicked them off just before nearly leaping out of my trousers and my loincloth. It was only a heartbeat later that my tunic, cloak, knapsack, holster, quiver and bow were dropped onto the ground behind me.
There I stood for a moment, nude and ready to submit to every carnal desire that I could fathom. The buck's body was mine for the taking and nobody could stop me from acting upon every desire that filled me, not even my father.
I got onto the bed, standing on my knees. Phillip scooted up a little to make room for me and I slowly moved away from the edge. I then leaned forward, placing my hands on the deer's cheeks, and moved my snout in between them to begin licking the hole that I planned to soon enter. First, I teased Phillip by swirling the tip of my tongue around the outsides of his hole in a circular rotation. Then, after a brief moment, I glided my tongue inside of Phillip and began to stretch his inner walls, preparing his body for what else was to come. Of course, he moaned appreciatively.
After a few more tender licks of the entrance to Phillip's body, I pulled myself back up onto my knees and moved closer to him, keeping my hands on his cheeks as I did so. It was then that I noticed that Phillip's fur was extremely soft and that his ass was as plump as any woman's, possibly even more.
Kindly, yet firmly, I gave Phillip's rear a light smack with an open hand, making his right cheek jiggle. He let out a tiny squeal and his body shook with gratitude. Again, I was unable to tell if he was acting or not.
I lowered my right hand and grasped my shaft as though it were the grip of a sword. Leisurely, I guided it towards Phillip's soft cheeks and slid it into the beckoning entrance between them.
As the old welcoming warmth of a man circled around my cock, everything else became insignificant. Nothing else mattered anymore, except for the desire to push myself deeper into Phillip's body. Once Phillip's body had completely engulfed me, I pulled back and dove right back in. In. Out. In. Out. I became just like one of those wild animals that wandered the wilderness, who were unable to speak, yet fucked with such vigor and corybantic nature. For a just a moment, my mind was hollowed of all other goals that did not consist of me fucking the petite boy, whose body so tightly gripped me.
A few moments later, we finished our carnal dance and lay on our right sides in the bed. His warm back was pressed up against my chest and I lay my head on the base of his neck. Neither of us moved much, for fear of hurting ourselves, since I hadn't pulled out of him when I had finished, thus meaning we were bound together for a few minutes by my knot.
"Sorry for," I barely managed to say between my rapid shallow breaths, "not pulling out,"
Unlike me, Phillip's breathing had remained at a normal rate. "No problem. I'm not the one who's paying,"
"Would you," I breathed, "like me to return the favor?"
He chuckled at my civility. "I wish all of my clients were as kind as you,"
"So, yes?"
"No," he said. "I'm fine. I've already cum four times today,"
I felt somewhat guilty for not finishing Phillip off, but, I had to remind myself, he told me that he was fine. "Okay,"
With great care, I leaned my head down and began to lightly kiss the side of his neck, pressing my lips against the soft fur that felt as smooth as water.
Phillip giggled at my kisses. "Didn't anybody tell you that you're not supposed to kiss whores?"
"You aren't supposed to kiss them on the mouth," I corrected him between kisses. "And it's not like licking your ass was very sanitary,"
"True," Phillip agreed.
A few moments later, I was able to withdraw myself from inside of him and we both lay on our backs to stare at the ceiling for sometime, while my cock crept back inside of my sheath.
After I was able to breath at a normal rate again, I rose and slid over on top of Phillip. My nose hung only an inch away from his and the buck's eyes glowed up at me with their green beauty. I outreached an arm and caressed his cheek with an open hand.
"Ready to go again, already?" Phillip asked.
"No," I answered quietly and continued to gently stroke his cheek with my open hand. "God, you're beautiful,"
He smiled. "You're paying me, remember? You don't have to lie,"
"It's true!" I said, trying not to laugh at his candor. "Here,"
Slowly, I lowered my head downwards and pressed my lips against his. His lips were thick and invitingly warm. My tongue slivered between them and began to explore the caverns of his mouth, inspecting every warm nook and cranny. Soon, his tongue met mine and the two intertwined like a pair of lovers on a late night of romance.
Then, I broke the kiss and stared down at the buck, whose eyes were wide with surprise.
"Wow," Phillip said with disbelief. "Who taught you how to kiss?"
A grin found its way onto my muzzle. "You think you're my first whore?"
The door to the room burst open and the doorknob slammed against the wall as the hinges shrieked in agony.
Phillip and I both sat up in bed to witness Esme, who was followed by Peter, scurry into the room, terror looming in her eye.
"What's wrong?" I asked, vaulting out of bed to meet Peter and Esme.
Esme slammed the door shut before scanning up and down on the doorframe. "Why the fuck isn't there a lock?"
"It's a whorehouse," Phillip reminded her.
"Esme," I said, stepping towards the kangaroo, whose fear had began to make me anxious, "what's happening?"
She turned away from the door and starred into my face with utmost urgency. "Capres' men are here!"
"What?" I nearly screamed.
"They must have guessed we'd stop at the closest town!"
"Wait!" I said. "What about the horses?"
"I set 'em loose and they ran west," Esme told me. "But, Dante, there's at least fifty of them out there!"
"Shit," I cursed. "Fighting is out of the question,"
"I'd say running isn't a good idea, either," Esme added. "They're all on horses and have an ass-load of crossbows,"
"Hello," Phillip cooed behind me.
I turned around to see Peter standing at the end of bed, with his back towards me, staring at Phillip, who lay exposed on top of the bed sheets. While Esme and I had been talking, I realized that the otter must have crept by me. In my mind, I pictured his eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sight of Phillip.
Phillip giggled and shot me a look, as if I were his boyfriend and was going to receive a scolding the next time we were alone together. "You never said anything about having a ferret friend with you," The buck's eyes drifted back to Peter. "He sure is cute,"
Peter seemed to be befuddled by the compliment from the naked buck. "Um... Thanks,"
"Oh! A gentleman, too?" Phillip said, playfully. "My, you are the full package,"
Booming pawsteps filled the hallway outside of our door and few loud bangs erupted, which were followed by shouting as well as muffled screams.
"They must be searching the rooms!" Esme realized aloud. "We need to hide!"
I snatched up my gun from my pile of clothes and rose back up, making sure that its three chambers were all loaded. "We can hide under the bed,"
Esme needed no further convincing and rushed over to Peter, lifting him off of the ground, just before squirming into the space just below the bed.
I kicked all of my possessions under the bed after Esme and Peter had disappeared. Then, when they were out of sight as well, I looked at Phillip, who sat upright on the bed.
"Please," I begged him, "don't tell them anything,"
I then hurried to the right side of the bed. Swiftly, I dropped down onto my belly and slithered under the bed after my companions. Once I was in the space beneath the bed, I could make out the bottom portion of the door and the dim light that flickered underneath it.
Not more than a minute later, after I had hid underneath the bed, Phillip's door was thrown open. In marched two sets of armored legs, which clanged with every thunderous step.
"Well," Phillip said directly above me, "I may have only been a whore for a few years now, but I don't think I've ever had the honor of fucking two knights at the same time,"
"Have you seen a wolf, an otter or a kangaroo in the past few days?" the knight on the right demanded.
I began to fear that maybe the knights would smell us, but, then again, there was so much perfume in the air that their noses were probably almost useless.
"Umm," Phillip said, as if he were thinking. "Nope. Sorry. Can't say I have. But I'm sure none of them look as sexy in armor as you boys do,"
"Have you had a client recently?" the knight to the left asked.
"No," Phillip lied. "It's actually been a really boring night...until you two showed up. Care for a fuck? I'm sure Mary will give you two strapping men a good discount,"
"What's with the two wine glasses on the table, then?" the knight to the left asked.
Oh shit.
_ _ "Oh, that," Phillip said, brushing off the question as if it were not important. "Sean, my friend across the hall, comes over for a drink sometimes if it's a slow night. He's really sweet. Nice ass, too,"
"Hold him down," the knight on the right ordered. "I think I smell cum,"
The legs all came to the side of the bed, the same side I had crawled under, and stood a mere few inches away from me. Above me, the bed shook as Phillip tried to struggle free from the knights.
"We know someone came here tonight," the knight on the right said. "Your pimp's ledger told us so,"
"It was somebody else's client!" Phillip said and tried to stay on top of the situation as he attempted to wriggle free. "Did you check with everybody else?"
"Stick your finger in his ass," the right knight ordered. "See if he's telling the truth,"
"You'll have to pay like everybody else, gentlemen," Phillip said, desperately trying to maintain his suaveness. "But, like I said, I'm sure Mary will give you a fair deal!"
A moment passed and I heard one of the guards shout, "The whore has cum in his ass!"
Both of the men drew their swords, which sang their bloodthirsty song of steel. "Where are they, whore?" the right one demanded.
"I don't know!" Phillip cried out, his voice now drowning in fear. "They left right before you showed up,"
One of the knights must have struck Phillip with their gauntlet because I heard a loud thump. "Don't fucking lie to us, you piece of shit!"
"It's true!" Phillip cried, pitifully. "I... They said that they were going west!"
"What for?" asked the knight on the right.
"I don't know!" Phillip answered. "I'm just a whore! People fuck me and leave! They don't tell me their whole life story!"
A moment of silence passed, possibly because the knights were considering what they had just been told.
"Why didn't you tell us that before?" the knight on the right asked.
"Because I was afraid!" Phillip said. "The two of you could rip me to pieces if you thought I was working with those guys and lying seemed like the only way I could keep all of my fingers!"
"I don't trust him, Rell," the knight on the left finally spoke again. "Somethin' about him seems fishy to me,"
"Hey!" a voice shouted from the door.
I looked forward and saw a new pair of armored legs standing just outside of the doorway. "We found horse tracks heading west into the woods. Come on!"
The boots just outside of doorway then turned and sprinted down the hallway.
"I guess you were telling the truth, then," the knight on the right announced dryly.
"I told you!" Phillip exclaimed with pride.
"Yeah, you did," the right knight continued, "but not at first,"
"W-what?" Phillip asked. "You aren't going to hold that against me, are you?"
"Yes," the knight answered. "You could have saved us some time if you hadn't lied to us,"
"I'll... I'll make it up to you!" Phillip began to plea. "Forget about paying! I'll let you two fuck me for free, as long as you like, too!"
"I don't think so," the knight answered.
"Please!" Phillip begged. "I'm just a whore,"
Phillip began to scream and shake the bed in agony as the sounds of steel tearing flesh began to echo around the room, each one causing me to feel as though I were the one being stabbed. Yet, as much as I desired to come to his aid and shoot both of his attackers, I couldn't. I had to lie there, under Phillip's bed, listening to him die while an otter and a kangaroo lay beside me, just as helpless as I was in that moment. I couldn't help him. I just couldn't. Even if I did save him from his attackers, there were still forty-eight other knights that we would have to deal with. There was no other way. At least, that's what I told myself while the buck continued to scream above me.
After the cries had ceased and flesh was no longer being sliced, the knights' swords sang their final notes as they were slid back into their scabbards, their taste for violence filled. The knights then turned and paced out the door.
All three of us, Peter, Esme and I, remained motionless under the bed for a minute, just in case the knights returned. Then, after a long period of silence, I crept out from under the bed like a thief that silently enters a home. I then stood and turned around to view the horror before me.
Phillip, still naked, lay on his back, dead and bleeding from a legion of gashes that covered his body. His chest was completely drenched in a wave of red, which hid the true color of his white stomach. The blood had stained the bed sheets and even began to creep towards the edges of the bed. Phillip emptily gazed up at the roof with eyes that seemed transfixed by some remarkable sight, as if he had been told the greatest secret of the universe. Yet, those green eyes no longer shined with their intoxicating luster, which had been more powerful than any drink. Instead, they now hung open and full of surprise. I sincerely hoped that, in his last moments, he had felt no pain. Sadly, I knew that simply was not true. He was only eighteen, for God's sake.
I took a step forward and drew my hand over his eyes, closing them shut. "Maybe you'll meet Mary Magdalene," I whispered. "If so, I know you two will get along just great," My throat began to tighten and my words became more difficult to say. "I'm sorry,"
Esme came out from the opposite side of the bed, staring at the door as if she expected guards to return.
"They're gone!" Esme announced.
I watched kangaroo rush to the door and stick her head out to peek into the hallway. "Good,"
Peter finally scrambled out from below the bed on the same side that Esme had and turned to silently gape at Phillip's bloody carcass. He didn't say anything, which led me to believe that he was bothered by the deer's noble sacrifice.
"It would have been worse for us," I reminded him.
The otter remained still. "He didn't tell them, even when they hit him... Why?"
"He was a whore," Esme said, as she turned from the doorway and walked towards the end of Phillip's bed. "And a good one, too. He knew that nobody likes a whore that talks. If word got out that he had loose lips for anything other than cock, nobody would even come to this brothel,"
"A whorehouse," I elaborated, "is all about discretion. Nobody wants their neighbors finding out what they like in bed, so why go to whore whose willing to talk about their clients?"
A moment of silence passed between the three of us.
"Well," Esme spoke, "you should probably get dressed so we can get the hell out of here,"
I blinked and gazed down to see my sheath hanging out in the open for God and the rest of the world to see. "Oh. Sorry,"
As I dove under the bed to retrieve all of my possessions, Esme chuckled. "No problem. It's not the first time I've seen a cock,"
In mere seconds, I was dressed and holstered my gun.
Peter, while I was dressing, still stared at the bloody scene on the bed, hypnotized by the brutality of Capres' men. He was undoubtedly imagining what would have happened if we had been caught. I even began to wonder that myself. It was bad enough that Peter was an otter and had been found on Capres' land, but we also killed three of Capres' knights. Surely, if we were discovered, the knights would have taken us back to Tynas and given us their worst possible form of torture. In fact, the more I thought about it, being stabbed in a bed began to seem merciful.
Now fully dressed, I walked around the bed and placed my hand on Peter's shoulder. "Hey,"
The otter's painted ears twitched and he glanced over his shoulder to look back at me.
"We need to go," I said.
Peter was motionless, but then nodded a moment later. "Okay,"
The prince drew himself to the door and walked outside with Esme. I followed them a moment later. As I stepped into the hall, I turned around and placed my hand on the cold doorknob. I began to slowly shut the door, but stopped and stared at Phillip's body.
Who was he? Did he really speak so elegantly around others or was that just an act he put on for his clients? What had he been before he became a whore? A merchant's son, a blacksmith's apprentice, a prince, or something else? And what had pushed him away from his previous life that caused him to end up working in a brothel? Had he lost everything in a game of cards and could only pay back his debt by selling himself to Mary? Had he been one of those starving vagrants who became so hungry and thin that, one day, he decided that selling his body was worth being fed? Did his parents perish in some tragic accident that pushed him to find whatever work he could? Whatever the answer had been, it certainly couldn't have been pleasant. And, on top of whatever pain he had suffered earlier in his life, I only added onto his misery, giving him an agonizing death.
You deserved better.
_ _ Slowly, I pulled the door closed and turned to follow my companions down the hall.
Once we arrived downstairs and passed all of the girl rooms, we found Mary sitting at her desk, with her ledger open, as if nothing had happened.
I walked up to the front of Mary's desk as Peter and Esme stopped at the door, surprised at what I was doing. Quickly, I removed my knapsack and withdrew my purse. Mary, on the other hand, looked up at me with curious eyes, waiting to see what I was about to do.
"Phillip..." I began, "died. We hid under his bed and the knights threatened him when he didn't tell them where we were. They stabbed him,"
"And?" Mary asked, without a hint of sorrow.
Her unemotional response startled me, as I had expected her to become distraught, or at least frustrated.
"Um," I tried to recollect myself. "I'd like to pay you for the damages,"
The ostrich held up a hand and shook her head. "That won't be necessary,"
"What?"
"Before somebody becomes one of my whores," Mary explained, "I give them a price. They give me their bodies and I give them a large sum of money. Usually, they use it to pay some debt or hire some Talth to kill some people. But, after that, they must work off their debt, which is accompanied by a monthly interest to pay for the food they are given. Phillip had completely paid off his debt to me before I had him for a month. And he made more money than any other whore in my house. So, there's no damage done,"
"He still remained here after he paid his debt?" I asked, shocked at the news.
"Yes," Mary nodded her head. "Some people enjoy lying on their backs for a living and being fed three meals a day,"
My chest grew heavy with a boulder of guilt. "But he died...and you'll have to replace the sheets! At least let me pay for those!"
"No," Mary refused. "Business is business. You didn't kill him or ruin the sheets, so I can't charge you,"
"What about a funeral?" I said. "I can pay for his coffin, a priest to say some sermon or his headstone!"
Mary laughed at the very idea and shook her head. "What kind of whores have you been around? Nobody gets a funeral here! And do you even know how expensive a coffin or a headstone is?"
My arm that held my purse slumped down and hung next to my side in despair. "What will you do with his body?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Oh," Mary shrugged. "We'll bury him out in the woods somewhere and a few of his friends will say some words. Nothing special. They'll be no marker for his grave, though. Whores' graves tend to be vandalized, so we'll just bury him in some dirt,"
The inside of my mouth tasted like ash as I stood there, foolishly squeezing my purse like a child who couldn't buy the tasty sweet that he wanted. A hole began to form in my chest and stung me more than any blade could.
"Dante," Esme called to me. "We need to go,"
Reluctantly, I drearily placed my purse in my knapsack. Then, I put my knapsack on my back once more. When I was ready, I turned and walked with my companions out the door.
"Come again!" Mary shouted merrily to us, before the door slammed shut as we stepped outside.
Without a word shared between us, we left the small town, heading south on the road. After a long mile, we pulled out to the left of the road and walked a good half-mile into the woods, where we made camp inside a tiny stone crevice under a hill.
Esme and Peter both sat down, yet I continued to stand.
"Aren't you gonna sleep?" Esme asked me, as she yawned and stretched out her arms to the rock above us.
"No," I answered. "I'm going to see if I can catch us something to eat,"
I then turned to leave.
"Are you sure?" Esme hollered at me. "Those knights are probably still looking for us,"
I didn't answer.
Soon, the dark woods engulfed me and I continued to walk into the abyss. As branches cracked beneath my weight and leaves ruffled at my quickening pace, I felt the weight in my chest growing heavier.
Before I knew it, my legs became numb and I had to drag myself over to sit on a log. No part of my body seemed to respond to my commands after I had sat down. My legs had become ice, my fingers were transformed into stone and my arms hung down like the branches of a dying tree.
Then, ever so slowly, my neck was able to tilt my head up to glance at the black quilt of night sky above me, which was carefully stitched with bright stars. I imagined Phillip, wherever we go when we die, staring down at me with hate in his eyes. In my mind's eye, I could see him raising his arm and pointing a judgmental finger at me, as if to say "murderer".
He would have been right. I may as well have been the one who drove those swords into his young body. If only I hadn't been so fucking stupid. I shouldn't have gone into Mary's brothel and paid for a whore when Capres' men where on our tail, even if we had crossed into Ulpis' Kingdom. Capres didn't give a shit about boundaries. His men had been slaughtered and he wanted to repay the deed with even more bloodshed.
Damn it... Fucking damn it!
_ _ My eyes began to sting with the familiar feeling of tears. _ _ I had gotten the boy murdered and couldn't do anything about it. All I did was hide under his bed like a coward. I hadn't even been able to buy him a goddamn tombstone. His body would be tossed away like a piece of garbage in an unmarked grave. He could have done something with his life once he got tired of being a whore. He was an intelligent boy. That much I knew for certain. He could have been the captain of a ship for some heroic exploration, or have become a successful banker. Yet, now he couldn't. He could never have taken the chance to actually do something great with his life, all because of me. I snatched away his future and destroyed any hope he had.
My hands clasped onto my face, covering my eyes and cheeks, yet where unable to stop the flow of tears that poured down onto my lap. "Phillip," I sobbed as my throat tightened. "Please...don't hate me,"
Every muscle in my body quivered with agony and I began to sob.