Today’s prompt choices were: Sex work, Kneeling, Sissification. I had oddly not a lot of necessarily great choices for this; a lot of kneeling happens but isn’t necessarily focused upon, and (depending on your classification) there are a fair few characters who I write who are sex workers – taking the Party story, for instance, Iolanda is a dancer and is throwing the party after a sexual stage play which all of the invitees attended, one of her invitees Chanel is a fellow (and much more experienced) dancer, and other invitees include varying other sex workers (Fatima, formerly; Emmalyne engages in a ceremonial public strip wrestling game professionally [Mortisa Bare’Em, which makes an appearance in these snippets] and moonlights with Madame Shu’s Erotic Emporium where she does a bit of anything and everything for coin, and Dom is both a full-time worker at Madame Shu’s as well as the Treasurer for the UPTSW [Union of Prostitutes and other Tactile Sex Workers] local branch 69) but the sex work specifically is not a common focus of things I’ve written, or at least not yet. That’ll still be today’s prompt choice though.
I went with this: a sort of selection of interactions between Dom and Ersufat, because it highlights several things about sex work in Arellan and I think is at least fairly spicy? There’s no actual sex here, but it’s mentioned – I don’t know, it’s a little vibes-based, but I like their dynamic. I think it’s fun.
Ersufat is a human thief, assassin, and artist, who was forced into the Navy after being caught stealing, and was kicked out of the Navy for having sex with non-humans. His native Herramia has been growing increasingly racist, and he disagrees with that. He’s a fairly muscular fellow but not due to strength, and his mother was a sex worker – and still is: she runs a string of brothels and entertainment parlours across (and now beginning to stretch outside of) the Herramian Empire.
Dom is a PLAD – Person of Lower Astral Descent, a humanoid with aspects of Hellish ancestry – from Am-Karrak. Born to a high-up Dwarven family, she was kicked out in her teen years in a traumatic incident largely based in the fact that she was born different. She is a sex worker, and is the treasurer for UPTSW local branch 69; she has red skin, plentiful curves, hooves, pointed ears, thick swooping horns, and piercings just about anywhere you can have a piercing.
This story is set in Arellan, a fantasy world – it is part of a larger piece there that I really should name. These scenes mostly involve fairly frank discussion, thought, and recollection of sex work and sex workers, and some banter of the same. There is a fair bit of nudity and some sensuality, and open discussion of sex, but none actually occurs. If you like that, read on! If you don’t, or if you stop liking it whilst reading, you may stop; I hereby give you permission.
After the break is mostly a lot of talking! XD
The one who opened the door was not Iolanda, but certainly not unwelcome as far as sights went. Red skin, tall horns, and curves that had been sculpted by both means magical and mundane if Ersufat’s guesses were correct, and a way of holding herself that was quite familiar to him.
Ersufat grinned, holding out a hand to her. “Hello, love – Ersufat Kint, and this here’s my compat-”
“Betras!” Betras interrupted him entirely, enthusiastically. “Betras Kalymnos, a delight- utter delight, mm, to meet your acquaintance, yes!”
“Here for Iolanda’s party,” Ersufat concluded, and then tipped his head to one side as his eyes swept over the woman letting them in once more, and he recognized her. “You were at the playhouse too, eh love? Not on stage, not during the performance, but afterward backstage-”
“Indomita,” she smiled, dipping in a curtsey which was an impressive feat with her hooves, and her short skirt, which she kept masterfully from riding up as she bobbed. It left Ersufat with little doubt that she could’ve used the same motion to have the hem ride up to the crux of her thighs, as well, and it was a fun thought to be sure. “Dom, if you like – you’re right, no part in the play, but the actress playing Bellerrel was my sister. I understand you were something of a fan of hers?”
Ersufat’s eyes met hers briefly as she raised an eyebrow, dark against her vibrant red skin, and he flashed a smile. “Always a fan of talent, love. Recognize it when I see it, too.”
Dom laughed, lightly, a little confirmation for his guess that she was in one way or another a working girl, whose wares were her self, and the small smile on her lips widened a little. “UPTSW local branch sixty-nine treasurer,” she purred, throwing in a wink for good measure. “We’re the best branch.”
Union of Prostitutes and other Tactile Sex Workers; UPTSW, Ersufat was familiar with them, and overall considered himself to be a supporter in more ways than one. His mother’s franchises were Union joints, and his support on that front was clear; he also was not infrequently a patron of their establishments wherever else he found himself, as they had at least some presence over most of the known world.
They were a good organization, by and large; took measures to ensure that their members were well looked-after, paid adequate amounts and provided protections. The biggest complaint Ersufat could make about them was that sometimes in their zeal they put pressures on anyone who wasn’t in the Union: unaffiliated sex workers could sometimes suffer for the fact that they might be given little to no protection by the society in which they found themselves, but also find themselves with little to no protection from the UPTSW as well, or even being somewhat actively hounded by the same.
It depended on their specifics in whatever location things happened to be, different cities and regions with different specifics of course. How established they felt themselves to be, and how much they sought to expand, and even who was involved in the local branch or how much that branch had been brought to the attention of the head offices, even how many branches there were in the locality as some of the larger cities had several; Am-Karrak had three, for instance, branches local twenty-four, sixty-nine, and one hundred seventeen.
“Treasurer? Or’d you say treasure, love? ‘Cause I think both might apply to you.” Ersufat grinned back to her and winked as well, chuckling at Dom’s bright giggle. She was gorgeous, to be sure, the way any painting or sculpture was gorgeous; not, rather, any painting, perhaps, but very specifically one which fired the blood and sharpened the eye.
Ersufat did recognize talent when he saw it, and he was always a fan of it, as well.
“A charmer,” Dom grinned, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, come in, won’t you mister- did you say Kint?” She looked him over again with a light laugh as he stepped through the door and she slid it shut. “Any relation to Madame Kint, of the Herramian-”
“That’d be my dear ol’ mum it would!” Ersufat grinned broadly. “Eleven franchises ‘cross Herramia, plus one out in Wall, and a service ship as well.”
“An impressive little empire of her own, no doubt.” Dom’s murmured words were understruck with appreciation. Maybe a little concern as well.
“Where’d you work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ersufat quirked an eyebrow. “Always nice to know a place or two in town, especially one comes so highly recommended.”
“Madame Shu’s Erotic Emporium. Central location, not Port district, or at least that’s my home base.” She rolled one shoulder in an easy shrug. “On occasion and for the right price, though, I do house calls. Interested in a flyer?”
“Usually.” Ersufat snickered, his eyes lingering on Dom as she stepped away and doubled over at the waist, reaching under a table and favouring him with quite a nice view of her long shapely legs and her bottom underneath her tight skirt – although probably not quite as nice a view as the one offered to the sea elf sitting on the couch whose eyes likely lingered long down the front of Dom’s dress, given the direction they were pointed.
Dom came back with a piece of paper and a smile, and Ersufat gave the sheet a cursory glance; it was mostly what he expected, a depiction of Dom in a front-laced corseted bustier that was barely laced itself, very much on the verge of coming apart completely to show off a bit more of the body underneath, with her legs crossed and one extended to show her hoof. There was a list of items one could purchase from her, with prices that Ersufat considered to be quite reasonable all things considered; it came complete with mentions of Dom’s status with the UPTSW, and little cartoonish caricatures of Dom herself parroting her line about branch sixty-nine being the best branch (complete with wink) as well as presumably Madame Shu mentioning Dom’s association and drawing attention to her legs.
She did have impressive legs, too.
“Nice pamphlet, to be sure,” Ersufat mused, flipping it over again and casting his eyes over the drawing again. “Not sure I’m sold on the drawing though, love. No offence meant to your artist, competent certainly but- well, it’s a little… safe, innit?”
“A hair’s breadth from showing my nipples with only my crossed legs preventing you from seeing anything else is… safe? I’d love to see what you consider dangerous, Mister Kint.” Dom leaned in closer with a flirtatious grin, that Ersufat quite suspected was the one she used with clients, and he didn’t mind that in the slightest; plenty of polish went into any actor’s presentation, and it deserved recognition and appreciation.
At the same time, he was certain that it wasn’t polish alone that had resulted in the play that they’d all just seen earlier that night. There was something to be said of its blending with true passion, and that was what her artist didn’t seem to have recognized
“You… can actually see one of my piercings, right here,” Dom murmured, leaning in against Ersufat’s shoulder and indicating one particular section of the bustier’s laces, where a small part of a circle could be seen protruding from underneath the leather. “And that’s safe, is it?”
“Well, maybe not in that sense, but…” Ersufat held the page with one hand, his other moving to Dom’s and gently encouraging it upward. “How ‘bout up… here, love?”
Dom laughed lightly as her finger was now pointed at her own face, and she shot Ersufat a grin. “Is my face insufficiently risky for you, now? Perhaps I should sharpen my teeth, hmm?”
“Just think- like I said, capable artist.” Ersufat let out a small hiss of a sigh between his teeth. “Certainly capable, but- well, can hardly blame ‘em getting distracted away and maybe a little focused, body like yours, love. Certainly more’n deserving of a bit of attention.”
“Appreciated.”
“Thing is, though,” Ersufat shrugged, his eyes tending up from the intricately captured depiction of Dom’s body to her face, and the face was quite good. The way her teeth caught at her lip, the fullness of that lip, the piercings through it and her nose, and her eyebrow; quite a competent artist.
There was a difference, however, between the simply competent and the truly inspired.
“Something in your eyes I think. It’s a gorgeous rendition of a gorgeous subject-”
“Appreciated,” Dom repeated, grinning still.
“-but it’s a bit safe in the eyes. Bit safe in the feel of the piece, you know: here’s my body, innit grand?” He chuckled, shrugging. “And to be sure, it is, love, but- there’s not much of you in the picture, just your body. Here and I’ve only known you two minutes, but I can tell you there’s nothing of your fire in this drawing, none of your amusement nor your amusing qualities. It’s competent,” he repeated, shaking his head with a gentle sigh. “You’re a lot better’n just competent though, aren’t you love?”
“I like to think so,” Dom tipped her head to one side, the chains and bangles between and on her horns tinkling lightly as she did. “Are you saying you think you could do better? Or trying to drum up business for a friend?”
“Not sure about better, but glad to give it a crack at least. Maybe a bit later, if you don’t mind a bit of impromptu modeling?” Ersufat grinned as Dom nodded, before his eyes flicked – as they so frequently did – out to the rest of the room. “Iolanda… she’s not gone off already, has she? Was hoping to have a minute at least to say hello, after she was nice enough to provide the invite. Took me a minute to manage arrival, sadly.”
“She’s around somewhere.” Dom glanced around, humming thoughtfully. “Was out here not too long ago, in fact, maybe a few minutes – second room’s through that beaded curtain, set up mostly for games and snacks. Third room’s through the curtain after that.”
“Special setup for that one?” Ersufat raised an eyebrow.
Dom giggled, pressing herself against his side for a moment, and her body was both soft and warm to perhaps the perfect amounts. She whispered into his ear. “Let’s say I’d be very at home carrying out my business there.”
“Sounds like a fun room.” Ersufat grinned as Dom leaned away with a giggle. “I wasn’t aware the Union would have a presence at the party tonight?”
“Oh, they don’t,” Dom shook her head, popping a nut from somewhere into her mouth and munching it. “Purely a personal visitation.”
“Well, glad to have you here either way.” Ersufat nodded with a grin, and a tipping of an imaginary hat that drew a fresh laugh from Dom before he stepped toward the beaded curtain, intent on making his appreciations known to Iolanda.
Making it clear he’d fulfilled his promise, as well, because that was something very important to him.
“Clearly very good at what you do, love.” Ersufat murmured the words behind Dom’s shoulder as she stepped out in front of him, startling her slightly, and he slid a pace backward with a chuckle as she spun around with a gasp.
“Oh- didn’t mean to cut you off there!” She laughed lightly, pressing a hand to her chest and highlighting the cutout in the front of her dress that showed her impressively sculpted cleavage, and it reminded Ersufat of himself. Of the things which aren’t natural in the slightest, but become so entrained and so well-honed that they seem to be.
It really was quite impressive.
“Love to see your skills firsthand, some other night when there’s no conflicts of interest.” He grinned with a nod, eyeing her as he did, and he’d always appreciated the differences of bodies.
Growing up around nearly nothing but humans, seeing the rest of the world had seemed quite like the (fairly concurrent) discovery of things like spices. He’d been raised with a world done on parchment in charcoal, and while that could be gorgeous, it was hard to debate that an oil painting in full colour was quite a bit different and all but inarguably deeper in its prospects and opportunities. Certainly all the whole of what art could be, aside from charcoal on parchment, was deeper and broader.
Ersufat sighed softly as his eyes dwelled both on those aspects which Dom highlighted, in pose or outfit or whatever else – her hips, her bottom, her chest, her lips, her neck – and also those which set her apart from the sometimes-bland normalcy of his youth: the horns, the eyes, the tail, the hooves, the ears, the vibrantly red skin.
“Not sure there’d ever be no conflict of interest, Mister Kint.” Dom’s eyes narrowed – playfully – and her focus dwelt on his last name, and in a simple sentence she made several things clear: firstly, that she was referencing his involvement with his mother’s business which, surely at least when she’d founded the franchise outside of Herramia proper, out at Wall, must have seemed like competition. Secondly, that she wasn’t denying him, as well, and in fact was offering very much to skip the interstitial period and seemingly the fee as well, and to have him there that evening.
It certainly wasn’t an objectionable prospect, but it wasn’t one she was really burning for, and if that was going to be the case then he’d much prefer to have something thoroughly professional – along with a bit of curiosity about what exactly that would look like for her, specifically.
“F’you’re ever in Wall – or Herramia by happenstance-” Ersufat started but was laughed off halfway through.
“Don’t think I could get through if I spent my entire life producing paperwork.” Dom grinned, something in her bared teeth a little more daring than normal. Something in her eyes a little sharper, and a little darker as well.
Only a little, but Ersufat had an eye for detail. It helped him well in all of his pursuits.
“Reason I don’t call it home anymore, love.” He let out a sigh, shaking his head softly and then chuckled with a shrug as they wandered out, agreeing without any discussion that some snacks or drinks would be good. “More’n half hard to get in if you’re not from there.”
“Easier for some.” Dom kept her voice mostly professional, but let a bit more of her clear personal viewpoint in, and Ersufat tipped his head in acknowledgement of her strike. Not everyone was aware of the difficulty that non-humans had entering his homeland, but she clearly was.
Given that she’d provided some personal viewpoint, he would have felt a poor sport not returning the favour.
“Right you are, love.” Ersufat scowled a little. “Damn distasteful, if you ask me – stupid plan, too, trying to keep all but the humans out. No berries and no sugar make for a piss-poor porridge.”
Dom laughed, thoroughly enough to make Ersufat’s lips twitch into a grin as she fixed him with a smile. “So insightful, Mister Kint! And with such worldly viewpoint – it’s no wonder you moved away from a home like yours.”
He shrugged, picking up a stuffed potato skin and taking a bite. “Strictly speaking, I was exiled, but mostly a difference in perspective, innit?”
“Think it’s the difference between stabbing and being stabbed inasmuch as perspective is concerned,” Dom murmured wryly, her tail flicking up at around elbow height and drawing Ersufat’s eye, and his mind, and a portion of his breath out as a wistful and hopeful sigh as well.
“One man’s stabbing is another’s being stabbed.” Ersufat grinned, the expression widening as Dom laughed, and then he held up a card for her – about the size of one from a deck that might be used for wist, poker, or whatever other game one wished to play with cards, but it was a little thicker and had no suits nor values on it, instead bearing only the name of his mother’s establishment and a few other pieces of information, along with his signature.
“If you’re ever in Wall, by happenstance, this’ll get you whatever special treatment you’d like – or a temporary position, if you like.” He shrugged. “Probably more, too, within reason. ‘Specially if Karsen’s working the bar, he’ll give you plenty free drinks if you flash that signature.”
“More if I share good stories of you, or bad ones?” Dom’s pierced eyebrow quirked, and Ersufat laughed rather than responding as she took a sip of punch, and then the card, slipping it simply and swiftly into a small leather clutch that Ersufat had strong suspicions was enchanted to store more within it than its size would normally permit. “Well, appreciated on both counts, Mister Kint – and a pleasure to meet you.”
“One down, perhaps a few to go.” Ersufat chuckled, taking Dom’s offered and heavily ring-laden hand and pressing a kiss to it, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He grinned against the back of her hand, letting his lips brush against her skin. “After all, we’ve to do that drawing yet, eh love?”
“So we have.” Dom smirked softly, her eyes drifting hooded. “Would’ve thought you’d want to combine the two, business and pleasure.”
“Sure it costs extra but sure I’m happy to pay it as well, love.” Ersufat’s grin widened a bit. “But that’s a drawing for me, rather’n for you.”
“Might be happy having one of each,” Dom whispered, her eyes narrowing briefly, emphatically, and she really was very good at it all, which only became clearer the more Ersufat interacted with her. He grinned and took a deep drink from his cup as she waved and walked off, her hooves clacking on the floor delightfully like high heeled shoes, and her hips swaying deliciously as she did.
“Mister Kint!” Dom, looking somewhat breathless as could be expected of someone who had just occupied herself the way Ersufat suspected she had been occupied given how much he had been able to hear her moans and shouts overtop of those of himself and Erris (and others) similarly occupied – yet still effortless as could be expected of someone who spent a good deal of her time and, indeed, made a good deal of her money, at such an occupation – held a broad smile on her lips as she peeled (and given its tight fit, peel was truly the optimal verb) off her shirt. “Perhaps you might be convinced to be of aid to us in sorting a conundrum?”
“Conundrum’s not really my specialty, love.” Ersufat sighed softly, sucking in a regretful bit of air between his teeth as his lips pursed (and, naturally, snarled due to their – unnatural – deformation). “Really more skilled in other areas – now, if it was a quandary, perhaps, I could help you out. A dilemma, maybe – or even an enigma, but conundrum?” He shook his head softly as she laughed, a delightfully unafraid and unrestrained laugh but one which still bore all the hallmarks of effete polish. “I can promise to try, how’s that?”
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” she grinned wider, her teeth standing out in quite strong contrast to her vibrant yet deep red skin. As she spoke, her hands unworriedly, unerringly, and unhesitantly continued to undress the rest of her body, unminding, reaching behind and unclasping her bra which she slipped away into her purse.
“Handy, that,” Ersufat tipped his head toward her purse. A small clutch, really, fashioned of some reptilian leather in a golden brown tone that went well with her red skin.
It had been red, earlier, when her clothing had been black.
Enchanted, clearly, primarily to hold within itself more than its volume would suggest: not an uncommon enchantment, but one wherein the strength was often determined by the degree of compression and a few other things. It wasn’t overly hard to find canvas or leather pouches which were sized seemingly to hold perhaps a mid-sized melon, yet inexplicably weighed twenty pounds or more – and could, of course, hold ten times as many melons and five times as much weight.
Dom’s clutch, on the other hand, was quite slender and small. It was maybe twice the length of her hand from base of palm to tip of fingers, or not quite that much; as wide as her hand, or a little less, and only about the same thickness as well. A size which, at a glance, would have fit perhaps a journalist’s small hand notebook, or maybe a set of dominoes. Perhaps two decks of cards, or maybe even three, but certainly not four or five.
It certainly wouldn’t have seemed capable of holding, seemingly, at least one change of clothing entire – along with another outfit simultaneously, as Dom continued to undress into her clutch and, unless she had destroyed or given away the night’s earlier outfit, was surely sending one to join the other.
It meant a stronger enchantment, which meant more expense or difficulty, which in turn meant the added minor enchantment of glamour to let its appearance subtly shift to match her outfit – changing colours and, Ersufat would guess, probably its texture as well to perhaps appear as linen or silk instead or lizardskin leather – would have been a worthwhile and only moderate increase to the price, letting her get more use out of the one piece.
“Certainly can be.” Dom flashed him a wink, reaching into the clutch and withdrawing a very nice-looking flog in pink leather that Ersufat could tell from a glance was intended only for play, and then a moment later, a vicious-looking cat-o-nine-tails in dark brown leather which Ersufat could similarly discern was decidedly not meant for only what most people would consider play and bore thick and viciously curved iron hooks in its tips.
Customers who were willing to pay were at least sometimes willing to pay more for healing after the fact, which was surely a positive boon to people everywhere who wanted an edge of pain along with their pleasure.
The familiarity of it all – of her – gave Ersufat a gently warm feeling, a resting smile on his lips, and a wistful and slightly bitter underlying current of homesickness which – quite like a bit of pain with one’s pleasure – served primarily to highlight the rest of it, as he similarly began to disrobe but dissimilarly simply folded his clothes and set them off to the side.
“At some point I might want to be clued in to why we’re getting starkers, love. Presuming, though, that they’re involved?” He shrugged, tipping his head toward the other two – Olivia and Armani, he’d heard them called, each mercenaries, the former an orcish tribal berzerker and the latter a human practitioner of martial arts who seemed to have been either also a member of an orcish tribe or, perhaps and Ersufact quite suspected, the possession of one. “I’ll also point out I’m in a bit of a lull, myself, but there’s more things than one can be done about that – as I’m sure I don’t need to say.”
Dom laughed, brightly again as she always seemed to, pressing a hand to her chest between her pierced nipples as the other held a small handful of assorted metal. “Well, I could clue you in… but I feel it might be a fun surprise?” Her grin widened, sharpening slightly in character if not geometrically, and Ersufat laughed.
Laughed and, a moment later, let out a slightly remorseful sigh. “Deepest apologies on that front, love, but I do recognize those bits of flash in your hand – struggle to call it armour, of course, but-”
“Ceremonially, at least,” Dom grinned, holding the pieces up a little more clearly; indeed, they were the same sets of very scanty ‘armour’ that Betras and Naerwyl and others had been wearing earlier, wrestling with the intent of removing the armour.
Somewhat ironic, given that it truly didn’t cover much to begin with.
Ersufat explained that he wasn’t directly familiar with the game when Dom inquired, and she gave him a brief rundown of the rules and handed him a set of armour. He was sure they could have each managed to don it alone, but it was easier with another set of hands and they helped each other dress instead.
The rules, such as they were, were very short and equally simple. “Wrestle with your partner, and try to remove their armour.” Dom swept her hair forward over one shoulder as Ersufat clasped the top – consisting of a pair of curved metal plates, one over each breast (although certainly, in Dom’s case, over but not exactly covering) as well as a pair of small shoulderplates – and both of them tugged at the various straps to set it on fairly tightly.
“When they’re naked, you’ve won.” Dom let out a small, light laugh, circling around behind Ersufat to clasp up his identical top in turn, her hooves sliding across the floor like an invisible underline to her words. “Simple as that.”
“I do like simple.” Ersufat’s eyes slid over Dom’s form, amidst flickering a great many other places, as they finished up getting each other’s armour on. “Afterward love, would you maybe like to have a go at some drawing? Thought it’d be a good time-”
“Oh, you found someone. Good.”
Ersufat glanced over to see Olivia being the one who’d said it, and he grinned and dipped one knee in a passable attempt at a curtsey which was primarily hurt by him having no long skirt, but he did his best to mimic the motion of pulling one out with his small chainmail loincloth instead. “Ersufat Kint, at your services, loves.”
“You said drawing, huh?” Olivia raised an eyebrow which bore a small scar through the middle of it, her eyes drifting appraisingly over Ersufat. “Is that one of your services?”
“One amongst many.” He stepped over and pulled a drawing pad out from his things, flipping it open to a random page – one of Chanel, swinging from her pole and clearly loving it. Olivia’s second eyebrow rose to join her first, and she whistled between her thick tusks, nodding appreciatively.
“Well, if you’re struck with any inspiration to draw me,” Olivia growled smoothly, sounding less aggressive like anything like a boar, and much more like a large cat, more curious. She shifted, too, underneath Ersufat’s roving eyes; into them, and firmly so, unlike Chanel but clearly nearly as reactive – where Chanel shifted with and against eyes’ gaze like a lover caressing, Olivia pressed firmly back against a gaze like a hookup pinning their partner against a wall. Not more passionate or less, necessarily, but of a different sort, certainly.
“Struck with inspiration’s preferable to a fist,” Ersufat murmured, snickering when the other man Armani blurted a laugh, and he grinned widely to all three of them. “Probably do a bit of drawing of everyone if that’s alright – and if it’s not,” he shrugged, tearing a page loose from the pad and holding it out for Olivia, “then suppose I’ll just have to apologize, love.”
Olivia’s eyes dropped to the page as if weighted, and heated as well, glimmering as she looked over the quick sketch he’d done of her leaning forward with an almost daring grin, swift slips of his thumb over charcoal lines serving to imply the muscles which stood out almost too proudly underneath her skin.
Clearly, no apology was necessary.
“Personally I find some of the variants a little more exciting, but I suppose such are the hazards of becoming used to anything.” Dom helped Ersufat back into his armour as he gradually got his breath under control, and she mentioned some of them: the game was held in large stadia, usually, as an audience-entertaining sport. Variants included wrestling in the predictable mud, of course, but also in slimes which had a chance of either dissolving the opponent’s armour or of paralyzing them, or whatever else. Large matches with a dozen opponents, and even an exciting-sounding concept wherein the combatants didn’t wrestle but rather carried special ranged weapons loaded with charges of the armour-dissolving ooze and sprayed each other in a display much more of dexterity and accuracy than strength.
“Think I like the sound of some of those myself,” he chuckled.
Technically, he had won hist prior round – at least so far as the rules of the game were concerned, having stripped his opponent of their armour before his own was stripped (at least entirely) – but it had been close, very close, and a breathless chuckle worked its way out of his throat.
He hadn’t quite considered how much strength would be needed for the activity; often there was a way to offload strength’s requirements onto other skills, be it through leverage or tools or speed instead – one didn’t need to be strong enough to lift a portcullis if one was swift enough to dive underneath it as it was coming down.
In this Mortisa Bare’Em wrestling, however, he could use his skills at sleight of hand to steal his opponent’s armour more quickly and more effectively – however, it didn’t stop them from stealing his, and while he was broadly known as at least a decent wiggler (and, in many cases, as a slippery bastard), he hadn’t necessarily accounted for everything.
One really couldn’t, though. That was where the charms and the luck came in – because, at the end of the day, one couldn’t account for everything.
Dom bowed, and he did the same, and she took an appropriate-looking readied position. Ersufat fully expected she had at least a decent knowledge of how to move her body in general, and a degree of physical capacity, flexibility, and stamina – anyone whose work and earnings came from their body likely did, whether they worked tilling fields or plowing in bedrooms.
As they met, arms wrapped around each other and wrangling to seek some advantage, they were evenly matched for the first moment. Ersufat managed to get the upper hand, pinning Dom’s shoulders back against the floor, but it was difficult: keeping someone pinned required strength moreso, whereas escaping relied a bit more on the lithe side of things.
At first, at least, Ersufat avoided exploiting the weak points of joints the way he had with Armani. They grappled evenly for a moment, feet and knees and arms seeking strong points of contact with floor or with each other’s bodies in order to leverage the situation (and the opponent). Ersufat gained the upper hand a few times, pinning Dom or managing to lock her up whilst leaving one of his limbs free to continue to do the important work of actually scoring points, but none of those instances gained him anything save for the pleasantness of Dom’s body pressed against his.
He was, however, creative, and while the presumed flow was to gain enough control of your opponent in order to remove a piece of armour, it wasn’t a necessary prerequisite. Ersufat found himself in a better situation as long as he relied on his speed, trying to move not inexorably but too quickly to be blocked.
Leaning on his talents let him pull off one of Dom’s bracers as she wrapped him up from behind, and allowed him to nudge the circlet of a “helmet” off of her head as they rolled around on the floor. Laying side by side, he found a sudden swell of strength, pushing her arms to the side and pulling off her chest-piece as the most accessible one right in front of him, and trying to kick off the shin guard from her upper leg at the same time.
“Oh no you don’t,” Dom huffed, her dark lips grinning wide as she breathed deep and long and smooth, twisting and evading his foot’s strike whilst at the same time rolling on top of him and pinning him to the floor.
Straddling him, and holding him forcibly down with one arm across his shoulders, she had one hand free to pull off one of his bracers, but before she was able to get anything else he was gone.
“No offence meant but you are somewhat slippery,” Dom laughed as Ersufat slid out from between her knees. “Not often someone’s so quick – or so determined – to get out from between my legs, ha!”
“Not my first choice of all possible things, all else being equal, love!” Ersufat, on his knees, caught Dom’s shoulders as she caught at his, twisting left and right. “And as long as we’re complimenting without offence, you’re on the strong side, aren’t you?”
Dom laughed again as she fell backward, Ersufat landing atop her and pinning her down. “Am I, Mister Kint? Capable enough, I should think, but…”
Ersufat’s eyes widened and he let out a huff as Dom pushed up away from the floor, flipped him over, and landed straddling him and pointed the other way with her hooves pinning his shoulders to the floor.
“Maybe I’m just- weak, love!” Ersufat wheezed a laugh as Dom pulled off one of his shin guards, but the position left her somewhat vulnerable too; her chainmail thong, one of the few pieces she still had left, was within easy reach, although as Ersufat grabbed at it he could only do so weakly with his shoulders pinned.
There were worse things than weakly, though. Worse things than missing the waistband of it and grabbing at her butt instead, pressing his chest to the ground.
“That costs extra,” Dom joked as she dodged away from his efforts, the two of them finding themselves on equal footing again, for a moment, before Ersufat was able to force her back again. Onto her back, again, and he chuckled as he leaned over and reached blindly for a piece of her armour.
“I’ve seen your scale of fees, love,” Ersufat snickered, then coughed a gasp as Dom twisted him around again; as he ended up in a position where he needed to rely more on his strength, she took advantage of the relative weakness of his strength, and she was right. She wasn’t particularly strong – just stronger than him.
…and aware of it.
He could see it in her eyes as she pinned him, reaching to snatch another piece: a sharpness, a quickness, and a laugh burst out of his throat as he slipped free of her hold.
“No no, you’re right love – it’s not that you’re strong, is it?” He grinned wide, circling with her for a moment before they wrapped each other up again; he tried to rely on his speed, but she wasn’t slow either, and seemed to have some idea of what he was going to try before he tried it. Seemed to know the game quite well, and how it was played.
“Tactics,” he sighed, as Dom twisted him around and he spun, avoiding a headlock that she’d been angling toward – but he saw it for the feint it was the moment the circlet left his head, and he looked up to see Dom holding it hanging off of one finger with her hip cocked to one side and an open-mouthed and playful grin.
“That’s what it actually is.” His eyes roved over her, both shin guards and one on her arm left, as well as her chainmail loincloth that hung about halfway down to her knee. He had the same number of pieces in a different configuration – the loincloth and his chest piece as well, along with one arm and one leg.
Dom dropped his circlet to the floor with a husky sort of giggle, bouncing slightly and playfully on her hooves. “Oh, perhaps. I might have had some instruction in this traditional fixture of this traditional society… did I neglect to mention I’m Dwarven-born? Perhaps I didn’t inherit much of my parents’ thick arms and broad shoulders, but I am quite familiar with this sport.”
“Playing dirty costs extra,” Ersufat joked, grinning wider as Dom laughed, and if she was relying on everything she could in order to win, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t do the exact same.
In fact, as she’d said, it sounded more fun. Seeing the same sport carried out a hundred times exactly according to the rules and the commonly expected tactics and plays could be fun enough, but what was really exciting was when somebody came up with an innovation.
They rushed at each other and caught in the middle again, grasping and grappling, and Ersufat didn’t let Dom catch him out as she had been – baiting him into adopting a bad position in order to turn it around on him. He relied on his speed more exclusively instead, refusing to fall into the same traps over and over again because while it might have been funny it could lose some impact over time.
It was better to fall into a different trap each time anyway.
They exchanged brief, occasionally breathless darts and jabs and laughs as they wrestled, skin sliding over skin and bodies pressed together tightly and wrapped around each other.
“Not always my clients’ first choice,” Dom laughed as Ersufat slipped off one of her shin guards.
“Already got your top off love,” he shot back with a wink and a snicker, falling somewhat into her trap as she pulled off his chest piece a moment later.
“So did I,” she purred through a giggle.
They entangled tightly and firmly, arms twisted through arms and legs interleaved with legs, rolling back and forth for a few long moments, tied not just seemingly in capability and not just in number of armour pieces, but even in what those pieces were; right leg, left arm, and waist.
Ersufat strained and groaned as Dom did the same, her pierced nipples pressing against his chest, and growing up around a crowd of sex workers, bodies had always just been bodies to him. He was used to seeing them, used to feeling them; sex had always been sex, and hadn’t been much different from a rub of the shoulders or a cuddle or whatever else. It had been something which could be quite a lot of fun, certainly, and could even be vital sometimes, but it had just been a thing.
Sometimes Ersufat had brought meat and potatoes to one of his mother’s friends and coworkers, and asked them to help make some stew to sate his growling stomach. Sometimes he’d brought them coin or a ring and asked them to help sate other hungers, and there had been little difference between them, and sometimes he longed for that straightforwardness.
It seemed that Dom was very much in that same camp, which wasn’t a tremendous surprise. More than capable of being quite sensual with her body, of course, but also more than capable of letting it just be her body; her hips pressed against his, her chest against his as well, and while their bodies did move and shift they were just bodies, moving as they had to.
Unfortunately for Ersufat, hers was a bit better trained for this particular thing.
“Bloody bollocks,” he hissed as Dom slipped off one of his bracers, and he didn’t really care whether he won or lost. The main thing he cared about was it being an exciting, interesting, and thrilling event – and just laying back and letting her take everything hardly seemed to fit that bill.
He started relying more heavily on tactics for outright theft and pickpocketing, doing his best to defend both of his remaining pieces – but sometimes what pickpocketing needed most was a distraction, and sometimes the best distraction was a sacrifice.
Ersufat smirked at Dom’s triumphant laugh as she pulled his chainmail loincloth off and sent it sliding across the floor. Meanwhile, she seemed entirely unaware of him slipping off her one remaining shinguard and tossing it away onto the couch nearby.
Dom grabbed at him and he twisted, nearly avoiding her hold but unable to; he was able to get into a position to undo her arm bracer, though, and silently kick it off to the side as Dom pressed him tighter under physical submission, and he didn’t mind that one bit.
Quite like it, in fact.
Still, there was a game to be played, and so with a bittersweet sigh Ersufat slipped out from Dom’s hold – not easy, but he managed – and as he slid away he straightened up and bowed to her.
“Oh? You’ve still got a piece left, Mister Kint – if you plan on forfeiting, I’d see it on the floor.” Dom grinned, giggling as she planted a hand on her knee to push herself up to her feet. Or, rather, to her hooves.
As she did, though, her eyes dropped to her hand in confusion as she hummed in the same. The shin guards had flared sections that went up over the knees to some extent, and she seemed only then to realize that that section – and, in fact, the whole thing – was no longer attached.
“I do, love, that’s fair,” Ersufat sighed, producing Dom’s chainmail loincloth from behind his back and letting it fall to the floor as he sucked air in between his teeth. “Only thing is, love, I’m not the only one in the game, am I?”
Dom gasped as she looked and patted at herself, suddenly noticing that she was completely bare, and then her head rocked back for a loud and raucous laugh. “Oh, fantastic! Mister Kint, never let it be said you don’t know how to entertain!”
“I’d pass around my hat but it seems to’ve scarpered.” Ersufat snickered as Dom stood and bowed to him as well, stepping over closer so they could help each other dress once more.
“Well, you were planning on visiting me at the parlor anyway,” Dom rolled one shoulder in a shrug as she leaned back toward him to let him clasp the chestpiece behind her spine. “Suppose we can take out tips by way of barter, hmm?”
“Oh, was I planning on that now?” Ersufat quirked an eyebrow, grinning as Dom slowly spun around on heel to smile at him – slightly taller, and smiling slightly down as a result. “Don’t recall actually saying that, love.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” Dom laughed, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him to do up his chestpiece in the back, bringing her lips in near to his ear as she did. “And yes, you were.”
“Wager you could probably even make a solid guess as to what I was planning on ordering off of the menu,” Ersufat half-sighed, doing up Dom’s loincloth at the same time.
“I probably could,” Dom admitted with a shrug as she began to work on his bracers, standing close with their hips nearly pressed together not out of anything explicitly flirtatious but rather Ersufat suspected (or at least hoped) because of a sort of bodily comfort which wasn’t incredibly common.
“I think, though,” her eyes darted briefly up to meet his and a small smile came to her lips, “you could probably gather that you’re not limited to the menu at this point.”
“Probably could,” Ersufat murmured, grinning a bit as he tucked her hair behind her pointed ears and affixed the circlet in place again atop her head, and he’d maybe hoped. Might even have guessed.
Regardless, it was nice to hear. He still was planning on carrying it out very much as a professional interaction with all the professional courtesies that could entail, but there was something of a difference. A distance between professional, full-stop, and professional with a friend; Ersufat had hired plenty of people for plenty of things, and it was good whether they were a friend or not, but there could be definite upsides.
“Might not be tomorrow, mind, as we might still be a bit tired both,” Ersufat snickered, dropping down to affix Dom’s shinguards above her lovely hooves which his eyes lingered on for a few seconds.
Dom groaned, rolling her eyes as she did. “Ugh, tell me about it! Definitely going to be guiding my choice of clients tomorrow – in fact, I’ll probably just take my shift at one of the binding tables. I can gladly nap strapped down to a table; throw a ball-gag and a blindfold on and nobody’ll even know, I’m sure I’ll wake up frequently enough to move around a bit and make some noise.”
“Might find yourself providing even in your sleep, love,” Ersufat chuckled, looking up across her body to meet her mostly-red eyes with the vertically slitted black pupils with a grin.
“I might,” she giggled, nodding. “Certainly have once or twice before!”
His attention was drawn away somewhat by the other two still wrestling, and Olivia’s was as well. She cheered, and he drew, adopting a similar tactic to what he’d employed with Betras and Iolanda – taking advantage of the shifting and repositioning of their moving bodies to capture bits and pieces here and there, and string them together into a much more optimal work overall. Armani’s arms, muscles standing proud as he strained pushing back up against Dom overtop of him; Dom’s legs wrapped beautifully tightly around Armani’s waist as she held back his grasping hands from her armour.
Piece by piece the drawing came together as, piece by piece, they stripped each other bare, well-matched in more ways than just their capability. There was a clear passion to it as well, vehement and palpable, their hands clutching at each other in more ways than only one. Olivia’s cheers increased as time went on, Ersufat’s pencil scribbling swiftly as it could as Dom and Armani writhed on the floor – shinguards gone, arm bracers off, chests bared – Dom wearing nothing but her chainmail loincloth, and Armani wearing nothing save for the metal circlet wrapped around his short-shaved head.
They fought fiercely, caught up tightly in each other’s bodies and moving with slowness which could have been viewed as either tantalizing or agonizing, or perhaps both. Gradually, Armani forced Dom’s shoulders back to the carpet and slowly, as she pushed back hard against him, he proved to be just that little bit stronger in just that little moment to hold her down with one forearm across her chest, elbow pinning one arm while his hand held the other, and with his free hand he yanked off the last piece of her armour.
Dom let out a rough but satisfied rough shout and sigh as she collapsed limply back against the floor, Armani falling atop her with a soft chuckle, and her arms rose to wrap around him and pull him closer, head tipping to the side to invite him in to a deep yet soft-looking kiss that lingered for a moment before they pushed themselves up to their feet.
“Good show,” Ersufat grinned, holding out the drawing pad.
“Good drawing,” Dom murmured, her eyes dropping to it for a moment before raising back to his. “I think I’m very much looking forward to more.”
“For at least one facet I’d say you’re decently attired at the moment…” Ersufat’s eyes flicked and darted over her body and she laughed, grinning, and led the way with swinging hips and swaying tail, wearing nothing at all but carrying her clutch in one hand.
Ersufat only paused long enough to grab up his clothes from the floor before following her, over to one of the alcoves where she was laid out on the bed already, smiling up at him and posed – legs crossed and hip cocked, arm draped across her chest – a gorgeous pose, certainly. A gorgeous person in a gorgeous pose, and she was more than simply skilled at what she did.
Dom traced her fingertips across her bare breast and licked at her lip, and Ersufat felt a little shiver run over his skin, tingling as his pencil raced across the page; he murmured gentle encouragements, suggested repositionings, and found Dom more than just willing to listen as a model – she was every bit as clever and capable as she’d been in the wrestling, foreseeing aspects of what he might suggest before he even quite gave voice to them.
They did a small series of sketches, agreeing that a more fully-produced and in-depth piece would be best done with dedicated time and effort between them.
“No desire to keep either of us distracted from the party’s many delights for too long,” Dom sighed, stretching over backward and grasping at her ankles, hair dangling down from between her horns toward her hooves.
“Good to build up a bit of a catalogue of things felt out at least, though. Ideas to build off of, later.” Ersufat’s pencil stroked along the curves of Dom’s breasts, looping back around to tweak little pips for the piercings through her nipples.
“Might be I could convince Madame Shu to take out some official commissions, actually,” Dom murmured thoughtfully, peeking over her shoulder as she leaned forward against the headboard and Ersufat flipped his pad around briefly to give her a glimpse of the sketch, her horns tipped back and tail trailing alluringly at the inside of her thigh.
“Of course, she’s unlikely to want to pay you for more than one or maybe two,” Dom scoffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Tight-fisted as she is – but, I think I could quite handily float the idea of taking further commissions out in trade… if you’d be interested? For what it’s worth, volunteering for that might actually win me some more favour with her.”
Ersufat’s eyes drifted down over her body and he grinned, the gesture not caught between wistful and lustful so much as living gladly in both spheres at once. “Think that there’s a time and place coin might be overrated, love, and before you’s an easy entry on that particular list. Always happy to help out a friend as well.”
“There had been some talk of a mural at one point, before she saw the price tag.” Dom giggled, her grin widening, and Ersufat laughed.
“Might take a few trips back for something of that size, and- frankly, never worked a piece that large before.” He sucked at his teeth thoughtfully for a few seconds. “Feel like I’d be willing to, though – at least to give it a go. I’d want to work my way up if that’s alright, start smaller and increase as we go.”
“Heard that one before,” Dom laughed, pulling out clothing from her clutch, and Ersufat helped her with it as he had with her armour; clasping her bra behind her back, unfolding a section of the band which wrinkled against her ribs on one side.
They agreed on at least a tentative meeting two days from then, and Ersufat’s smile lingered long after Dom gave him a kiss on the cheek and stepped away, as he worked idly on fleshing out a few different sketches in his book as he wandered off.
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