The usual means a hot roast with liquid cheese and seven-year-old Greenwald wine and the best room available for the night. On top of that, I’ll put on that fancy dress and lingerie he gave me on my first visit here and show up in his room. I felt a little nippy’d always been excited in Master Arvin’s company, and I’d never felt as dirty as I did under his gaze.
It took me a while to get everything ready, and I served it to Master, but I didn’t ask for payment and knew he’d pay for every last dime when the time came.
-Thank you, Charlene. I’ll come up when I’ve finished my meal. – He replied, and I went upstairs to prepare for the most mentally and physically demanding but most rewarding part of my job.
-If you don’t study, when you grow up you’ll be making a living like Charlene. – some dorky guy is telling his kids.
-“I wonder what her dead mother would have said about all this? – another older man’s voice.
-She’s a whore! I bet she wants to bear his bastard child! -I heard disgruntled voices, the last one, a woman’s, that made me wince briefly. This is not the sort of thing you can get used to. The words belonged to Annette, the local witch doctor’s wife, an obese woman who looked to be my mother’s age. The most frustrating thing about it was that she’d worked as an innkeeper’s wench in her day, doing the same that I do now until she’d found her future husband.
However, I forced myself to disconnect from what was happening and, going up to one of the rooms, began to prepare for the coming night, getting naked and washing myself from the dirt of this tavern in a barrel of water, looking at myself in the mirror, remembering the words of the master that I look like a goddess of love. And I’ll tell you, I understood why many men looked at me like that. For what it’s worth, I looked very attractive in my seventeen: high beautiful breasts, wasp waist, juicy butt, tough hips, thin graceful features, bronze skin, brown eyes, and thick brown hair. I had a lot of Southern blood in me, so by the standards of the locals I had a very unusual appearance that stood out against the pallor of the local women.
The outfit that Master Arvin had given me was custom-made and perfectly emphasized my figure. When everything was ready, I sat down on the bed, thinking about this night and many nights to come, about Master Arvin, the few pleasant things about my work, about my father. Would he live to see the day when I had raised enough money for treatment?
I could hear footsteps on the stairs, and it sounded like a medium-sized man, I could guess who my client was, but I was always worried at times like this, assuming that some local dork would show up and start hurling insults, or even rape me. Gathering my thoughts, I got up from the bed and turned toward the door as the knob turned. It’s Master Arvin, after all. He smiles tiredly, and I return the favor.
-Are you all right, Charlene? You look worried. – He asked as if my recent worries hadn’t escaped him.
-It’s okay, Master, we can begin. – I answered him softly, and then Arvin came up and began to enjoy my body, pulling against him and kissing me.