Chapter 11: Chapter 10: Darling Blossom

Concept for Monica

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There was an old rumor floating around, that your phobias stemmed from how you died in some previous ife. Theo didn’t believe it, nor did he believe in reincarnation for that matter, but it did make him curious as to what could’ve spawned his irrational fear of bugs, spiders in particular. Then again, maybe he didn’t want to know.

He recoiled upon seeing the thin legged arachnid crawling over the bar-table, and smashed it with his now empty beer bottle. Even still, it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t about to clean up the squished up remains, instead he moved several seats away from the smushed corpse.

When Victor Sanchez returned from the bathroom, he noticed that Theo had repositioned to a completely different seat along the bar, and couldn’t help but wonder why. 

“What happened?” He asked, taking a seat next to him.

Theo ground his teeth, leaning his arms on the flat beer stained surface of the bar table while waiting for the server to approach. He didn’t respond, the last thing he wanted was to reveal his one, and only, serious weakness. 

“You could at least thank me, you know,” Victor sighed.

Theo popped his knuckles, knowing Victor was right. “Thank you, for reconsidering.”

“Hey it wasn’t up to me, if it was I certainly wouldn’t want some sophomore to come along. Especially one who just, wants to go exploring,” Victor’s disdain was practically bleeding through his words.

“Then thank you for tolerating me, I guess. Also my roomie is gonna meet us here, he was curious about the expedition too.” 

Victor nearly gagged on his beer. “What? I told you this was a private affair!”

Theo grinned, better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“Whoops, sorry completely forgot.” Theo watched his partner in crime seething in his chair. 

Victor resisted the urge to cause a scene, instead trying to rationalize how he was going to explain to his boss why he was about to introduce more than one potential asset. After a few minutes Victor got tired of waiting for the bartender, and tried to attract her attention. It didn’t take long, a simple wave, and flirtatious whistle, was more than enough. 

“I swear to god if you get me fired,” Victor fought to keep his voice under control.

“Relax,” Theo replied. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

The bartender hoped over to them. She was dressed in the same skin tight spandex bodysuit as the other women of the Darling Blossom, but its color was a vibrant blue, rather than the delicate reds of the courtesans. 

The women of the Darling Blossom were all dark skinned, and bore striking similarities to one another. Beautiful wasn’t a kind enough word to describe them, for they were all goddesses in their own right. They all wore spandex bodysuits, with deep slits down the center of their bodies, exposing a healthy amount of cleavage, and most of their slender stomachs. The slip ran so low, Theo could even make out the tiny wisps of pubic hair peeking out, among some of them. 

Many of the woman had tattoos covering their arms and shoulders, while a few decorated their abdomens. The most experienced, and exotic, women sported decretive markings covering their breasts, the ink glowed and shifted colors. Their tattoo styles had sported a trend among older, more refined, women in Voxsturm. 

Theo Serrano had the distinct impression that all the courtesans were somehow related. They each looked surprisingly similar, with thick brown hair, and glistening green eyes. How so many gorgeous ladies, all seemingly similar in age, could share the same parents, or be part of the same extended family, confused him. Being an only child, Theo could only imagine what it must be like to have so many blood relatives. 

The Darlings weren’t reluctant to expand their numbers, as was evident by what was happening on the stage behind them. The sweaty bodies of several slender beauties were currently enjoying several customers at once, their moans mixing with the exotic music surrounding them.

Sex was expensive here, especially if you wanted it in private, but that wasn’t the main commodity sold here. Mothers milk was among the most profitable resource in Voxsturm, and the mothers among the Darling Blossom’s were happy to oblige the markets demands with interest. 

For a thousand clits, a Darling would mount you on any of the many stages surrounding the dance floor. For 800 a customer could join in the public orgy, which occurred on a rotational basis every four hours. For ten thousand, you could enjoy a private room, until thoroughly satisfied. But, for twenty clits a servings, one could enjoy a mixed beverage, self served by one of the bartending staff. 

The bartender looked down at them with a curt smile. Her narrow chin, and pleasant cheeks, did little to distract from her laden breasts. They were practically spilling out of her uniform, and she clearly didn’t mind anyone noticing.

Theo looked dead straight into the bartenders welcoming bosom, his throat suddenly feeling parched. 

“Sorry for the wait,” the bartender said with a sweet voice. 

Victor smiled, “two white sturms please.”

“Would you like any additives?” She cocked her head to the side, shifting her weight so that her chest bounced.

“Can I get breast milk with that?” Theo clearly meant it as a joke, and a cringe worthy one at that. 

“Well of course!” To his surprise the woman arched her body forward, and gently pulled open her uniform.

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In the basement of the Darling Blossom, a short wolfkin girl sat at a table, brushing back her dark hair, which only coated her bangs with more grease and oil. On the table in front of her laid a long barreled sniper rifle, currently disassembled. For the past hour, Cassie had been cleaning every piece of it with an almost obsessive level of thoroughness.  

She yawned, her attention slowly waning.

“You’re always yawning,” Monicas voice was mature, and rather sharp. The tall bulky mercenary sat across from her, wearing a dark red brassier, and little else. Her warm skin was decorated in a myriad of scars and tattoos, and her short hair was combed to the side and glowed with blue highlights.

Cassie ignored her, scratching her canine ears, before returning her attention to her precious rifle.

The basement was an extravagant suite of opulence, reserved only for special clients, and kept out of sight by the general customer. Even most of the Darlings weren’t aware of the meetings undertaken below, with only a few ever allowed to serve its guests. 

Crystal bulbs lit up the spartan interior, and leather couches offered plenty of comfortable seating. The oval table in the center was carved from rosewood, which was said to have been a kind of tree that existed before Stormfall. Had anyone actually known its true value, it definitely wouldn’t have been used simply to clean weapons, or absorb tobacco smoke which still lingered in the room.

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Warm red carpeting covered the floors, and silver decanters filled with expensive wines were neatly arranged on several countertops. The walls themselves were touch activated television monitors, currently displaying a dark blue ambiance. 

Cassie didn’t much care for the scenery, instead focusing on her daily ritual.

“Scrubbing my gun,” Cassie began quietly singing to herself.

“Do you have to do that?” Monica scowled.

The wolfkin looked up in confusion, “What?” 

“Sing,” the older woman answered. “While you clean your gun. Do you have to sing?” 

“Don’t have a clue what your talking about,” Cassie shrugged. She bent over the rifle again, carefully studying every groove in the assembly for signs of tarnish. Whenever she noticed a smudge of carbon, she did her best to scrub it clean. “Scrubby scrub scrub, scrubbing mr. gun,” her voice was shallow, yet whimsical. 

“Quit it, you’re doing that on purpose!” Monica slammed her hand on the table. She kept rubbing her temple, evidently suffering from a rampaging hangover.

“What!” Cassie’s ears shot up in alarm.

“Quit it! Seriously, its childish.” 

Cassie’s ears folding in, now ringing from the sudden noise. “Stop yelling at me!” 

With a sour curse, Monica got up from her seat, her lips stretched into a sneer. “I’ll kill you, you harlot!” 

Cassie had enough of the woman’s company, and got up from her seat as well. Her tail was alert, the fur standing straight. “Who you calling harlot, you skank!”  

“Cu—“

“Will you two please stop,” another voice interrupted their bickering. “Now you’re giving me a headache.”

The two of them fell silent, watching the figure of a man entering the room. He wore a dark wool coat over a buttoned dress shirt, and rested his hand on the scabbard of an ornate sword. The man offered the duo a false smile, his eyes deadpanned the two of them, showing no expression.

“Sorry boss,” Monica ground her teeth, slowly sitting back down in her chair.

Cassie sighed, her fur finally settling. She still wasn’t used to her masters presence. He was a kind enough man, or so she guessed. Her experience with humans was still fresh, but he treated her well, and seemed to respect her talents. It was he who saved her from the wastes four years ago, and quickly noticed her natural talents with firearms. 

The sniper rifle she carried was a gift from her master, and was precious too her. It was the first truly expensive gift her master had given her, and she took care of it. 

He hated being called master, but she refused to call him by his given name, as it would’ve been the greatest show of disrespect for her kind. She owed him a debt, and until it was repaid in full, she recognized him as her master, as was proper custom.

“Victor’s here, and he brought some friends. So you two better behave yourselves. please…,” Konrad spread a map on the table, and quietly studied it a while, before asking Cassie to summon his guests.

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“You sure you don’t want—“ Victor chimed in. 

Theo cut him off before he could finish, “nope.”

The atmosphere had always been strange, but now it felt even more awkward. Theo ignored the frothy beverage in Victors hands, instead choosing to order another beer instead. 

“Rather stick with something less…exotic,” he exclaimed, while the bartender offered him another dark glass bottle. 

“But this is mixed with actual—”

“I know what its mixed with!” Theo shot back. “I just saw it happen in front of me.” 

“Aren’t you turned on?” Victor asked.

“Yes, and no, and kinda…”

“It’s ok,” the bartender smirked towards them both. “It’s not for everybody.”

“But it’s incredibly good for you, not to mention, the perfect mixer,” Victor took a long sip from his mug.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Theo asked the woman on the other side of the bar. 

She was already busy cleaning another glass. “Actually, in all honesty, it kinda hurts just standing here, my poor girls need some lovin’ too, and its such a relief, nursing them.”

“Good to know,” for a minute, Theo considered ordering a cream ale, when suddenly his roommate arrived. 

Mike wore an unbuttoned henley sweat shirt, and his hair was combed back for the first time. He took the seat next to Theo, and then motioned for someone to join him.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Theo teased the lamia girl slithering by his roommates side. Marci curled up into the chair, her serpentine half wrapping around the chairs pedestal. 

“I see I didn’t miss anything too exciting,” Marci quipped back, batting an eye towards the bartender, and licking her lips. “Now, I would love to introduce you to my…,” she twisted around, suddenly bewildered by the absence of whoever she was trying to introduce.

Far off to the side, hiding amongst the crowd, Lorelei found herself completely overwhelmed by all the sights, sounds, and smells of the Darling Blossom. The man she craves presence had only strained her anxiety even further. She found herself practically shivering with a panic attack, while trying to keep hidden and out of sight. Being the only Redever girl in the entire room, and being among the few in school uniform, made that almost impossible.

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