Chapter 9: The passionate (K)night (1)

Andor’s Edge, a city built along the great Andor river. This river stretched for thousands of miles and stood as a gateway between the North and South of the vast continent of Lotheran. Because of its central position along the river, Andor’s Edge was an important and prosperous city of trade. Its wealth lined the pockets of many merchants as well as the lord’s who ruled this powerful city state which was a member of the Federation of Lords. Being the second largest city and the wealthiest among the several city states, it was an influential part of the Republic.

Since the great Andor river split into two separate arms which ran parallel to each other, the city was built in parts spreading out from the central area located between the northern and southern arms of the river. The Lord’s district was built on the northern bank of the north arm of the river and was a home to the wealthy merchants and powerful families that ruled the city. The central area between the northern and southern arms was the center of commerce for the city and it was where many of the merchants and citizens belonging to the middle class lived. On the southern bank across the southern arm of the river was where the slums were located and where the poorer denizens of the city lived. Those who could not afford to live even there, hid deep within the sewers and labrynthine pathways below the city.

It was in the slums that a person of questionable origins appeared to be wandering aimlessly through the cities darkened alleyways. This was a darkness that could easily eat away at a man’s heart. In this world, the darkness held untold dangers. Amongst them, walked a man whose face was covered in cloth. Between the dim moonlight and the garb he wore over his head, the fact that his face was covered in bandages mattered little. Most of his body was covered by his cloak which prevented others from seeing the bloodied shirt he wore within. The smell was also obstructed by his own foul stench.

Brock would not be pleased. It’s a good thing I left him where I did. I don’t want him to be a part of this if it can be helped.

The blood on his shirt belonged to an unfortunate thug, one who had tried to rob him thinking that he was an easy mark. Little did the thug know that it had all been a ploy. For the cloaked and mysterious individual needed coin, and the thug was going to provide him with it. A prostitute was the reason that he sought coin. Neither the appearance, the age nor the health were of importance to him. His only prerequisite being that the prostitute was female and alive. This was going to be the first time for him, and he wanted it to be memorable, but he felt no need to be too discriminating.

Many were seduced by the city of Andor’s Edge. It catered to both the upright, and the more nefarious denizens of the society. Anything could be procured, for a price. Whether that be life, death, or something in between. The city was a playground for the rich, built on the backs of the unfortunate. Finding a willing prostitute in such a place would be as simple as flipping a coin.

However, the thug did not have much coin on him, and so it would be impossible to hire a high-class prostitute. He ventured into a back alley leading to the run-down area of the city. While not as safe as the other areas, this one was more convenient for what the hooded man intended to do.

It didn’t take long to find that which he was seeking. A heavily muscled man was standing outside the door of a low-class brothel, a crude drawing of a woman’s lips kissing a phallus was visible on a wooden plaque next to him. It would have been difficult to find were it not for the illuminated torches. The burly man was most likely a handler. He was responsible for the safety of the prostitutes and would also collect the brothel’s fee at the door. These individuals were often connected to large criminal organizations and tended to act with a certain amount of impunity.

Coin was exchanged, it mattered little that the client had wrappings covering his face. There were plenty of clients who did not wish anyone to see them entering a brothel. Nobles with power and wealth, merchants of high standing, even those in religious orders. To the handler, this was just another client who didn’t want to be seen. As long as the price was paid, anything was fine, and so the handler let the mysterious man enter the brothel.

The hallway inside of the brothel was narrow, with just enough room to walk single file. The building itself was small, huddled into a corner of the already densely packed city. It was hardly a surprise that the inside of the building was so compact.

This is a low-class brothel after all.

Not only was it dirty, but there was a distinctive odor which was made up of a myriad of scents.

Cheap perfume, liquor, smoke, and I think… sex.

The cramped hallway eventually broadened, opening up into a central area with many doors on either side. There were also additional hallways, each with doors lining the corridors. In many of these rooms, there would be other clients who having paid the fee, were now being accompanied by one of the low-class brothels’ prostitutes. All the hooded man had to do was choose from one of the open doors. Inside he would find his prize. Inside he would a find a woman, a woman who would soon become his.

Lacking any semblance of privacy, other than that of a closed door, the sound of moaning, fucking, and screaming could be heard from within. The man with his face in cloth wrappings paid them no heed. Instead, he walked towards the farthest open door in the brothel. He was of one mind, and nothing else in this place mattered to him.

He approached the door, entering and closing it behind him. It was a simple room with no decorations. It had a bed and a chair, and that was all. It wasn’t necessary to provide the prostitutes with much in the way of luxuries. However before the man could finish closing the door, a woman had put her arms around him from behind. She whispered in his ear, “hey baby, I was waiting for you.” Her voice was sultry and tantalizing, and of course what she said was a lie. It wasn’t as if she was waiting specifically for him, anyone would do. Turning, he gently pushed her away at arm’s length and looked at her through the slit in his wrappings.

She doesn’t seem afraid, he mused to himself.

She was wearing heavy makeup, and was nothing special to look at. Her body was somewhat malnourished and the cheap perfume she wore tickled his nose. He didn’t really expect much from a cheap prostitute, but this one was even less than he had anticipated. 

A thought came to him as he looked at her with pity, This poor soul, she is probably just happy someone came.

He had every intention of saving her from this life of poverty and shame.

The prostitute lifted her hands to the man’s face, “won’t you take off these wrappings so I can see your handsome face?”

The man took her hands in his and brought it to his side, placing her arm around his waist.

“There is no need for that right now, why don’t you take off your clothes and lie down on the bed,” the man instructed her with a firm, but calm voice.

The woman gave him a demure smile and tried her best to seductively remove her clothing. She then laid down on the bed in a provocative manner, legs outstretched, revealing her well-trimmed groin. She teasingly played with her labia while moaning and stretching her neck.

The man began undressing, taking off his cloak, loosening his belt, and removing his pants and finally his shirt. He was naked from the neck down, with only the cloth wrappings still visible on his face. The prostitute made sure to visibly ogle his manhood which was surprisingly not yet erect. This did not dissuade her however.

“See how wet you’re making me? Hurry over here baby, I will show you how good I am with my mouth,” the prostitute lightly bit her lip in anticipation while calling the man over to her.

He walked over to her and stood over the bed she was laying on. He stood directly over her body. The prostitute sat up on all fours and attempted to bring her mouth to his phallus, but the man stopped her.

“Do you wish to see my face?” he asked her.

She was a little surprised that he stopped her, but only momentarily. She recovered and gave him a coy smile, “I would love to see your handsome face baby.”

“Then lay down on your back.”

The naked woman laid down on the bed as the man had instructed her. She wasn’t expecting the man to get on the bed as well, but it didn’t bother her. He kneeled on the bed with her legs between his, and he began to unwrap the cloth on his head. The cloth wrappings seemed to consist of multiple pieces.

The woman let out a slight gasp. The man was far more handsome than she had expected and her heart began to beat even faster. She could barely look at him at first out of shock, but she smiled, happy at her good fortune meeting such a handsome and well-endowed man.

“I hope you don’t mind, I have a… certain fetish.”

The prostitute gave no reaction to the man’s words, many of the clients who frequented the brothel had one strange fetish or another. These women’s lives were not really their own, so anything was allowed in this place. All the prostitutes here could do was hope the client wasn’t too violent. Prostitutes had even been killed by clients. Anything was allowed, but if a client was too violent or killed one of the prostitutes, they would have to pay an additional fee.

She really hoped he wasn’t the violent type.

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