Peca came away from her chat with Lady Murano in a daze. Was she serious? She wanted to see Peca’s ideas?
The Lady was right about one thing. This was like her debut. She’d been cast in a play last year. Tried out for Lady MacBeth but was cast as one of the Weird Sisters. She was sure it was because the author of the play didn’t like her. Becc was her name and she was an uber-feminist. She’d dropped the “Re” and the “a” from her name because it was too “girly.” In her version of MacBeth Lady MacBeth endured the trials that her husband did in the original, and instead of MacDuff being “no man of woman born” she was “no woman of man conceived” and was instead borne of the dna of 2 lesbians. Peca’s part as one of the witches three had a decidedly sensual bent and while she was unhappy that she didn’t make the cut for the main role, she made a lot of money from clients who’d seen her onstage antics.
Becc, for her part, was decidedly anti-male which was a bit surprising given her chosen line of work. She was a beautiful girl who was disappointed that Lady Murano was not interested in catering to an exclusively female audience. To be fair, Becc wasn’t the most ordinary girl who’d ever worked in the House, and there was some rumor that the play was a thinly-veiled version of her dream to take down Lady Murano and run the Red Monarchy herself. Nonetheless, it proved to be a very popular production and Becc ended up meeting a benefactor at her opening night and found commercial success with another of her productions which was now touring. Regardless of her personal feelings, Becc walked out of the wrought iron gates for the last time with Lady Murano to thank for her success.
As she pondered the implications of the Lady’s words she wandered into her work room and flopped down onto the bed for a moment. Staring up at the sheer-fabric draped ceiling she asked herself how she ended up here. She wasn’t terribly pretty and she wasn’t even the best people person. She liked to think she still liked people, but the truth was that since her early twenties she had begun skiing down the slippery slope of misanthropy. Oh sure, she had her shining moments when she was the center of the crowd and her old personality made itself apparent but anymore she was tired of people, couldn’t really stand to speak to someone she knew, much less anyone she didn’t know. And here she was being touched by multiple strangers on a daily basis. But the money was so good and the Red Monarchy was one of the highest-esteemed Houses in the city. Aside from their twice-yearly stage productions there were art showings, poetry readings, and classes of all kinds. It was less like a brothel and more like a college where you banged your way through instead of paying tuition.
She considered herself Mark wasn’t the jealous type. Not that he was ever jealous or even unpleasant about anything. Shame she couldn’t bring him to opening night. He was so looking forward to going. Peca sighed and slid off the bed to head toward the closet.
Her first client of the day was, thankfully, some college student named Bill who was nervous but clearly horny. The young ones were so eager to please, asking if everything was okay and if it felt good for her too. They hadn’t gotten to the point yet where they climbed on, puffed, and then climbed off and had to be reminded they couldn’t sleep in her bed. Bill didn’t even want to be in bed.
“I uhh, was wondering…” His creamy skin turned bright red. Peca felt for him, as this was clearly his first time paying for it and she didn’t even know why he was there, being such a good-looking kid. She smiled sweetly and slid up ned to him on the bed, put an arm around him and massaged his shoulder.
“Hmm?” She leaned over to catch his eyes which were looking everywhere except at her. “Tell me what you’re wondering, Bill.” She leaned in conspiratorially. Damn, I’m good at this.
“I mean my folks, they’re real religious and I don’t wanna disappoint ‘em…” He trailed off. A tug at her heart reminded Peca she was still human.
“Bill,” she lifted his chin with her hand “is this your first time?” He reddened even more and she knew that was the case. “I’ll be gentle.”
“N-No, I mean. Yes, it is my first time but…I don’t want you to be gentle. I always sorta wanted to, well, like…” He was so shy and he looked at the floor as he pointed to the dresser. Ah, she thought, standing up. She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, led him to the dresser and started to unbutton his shirt, making sure he was able to see it in the mirror. His relief was evident, and he seemed even more relieved when she didn’t try to kiss him.
Several men of various ages and a woman later, Peca showered, dressed in her street clothes, and exited the room, locking the door behind her. Down the hall she went to the theater, already tired, to put on yet another assumed identity.
“Mark”
“Yes?”
Peca bit her lip, her fingers running through Mark’s dark brown hair. “About opening night,” she paused, trying to think of the right way to tell him. It didn’t help any that he smiled at her, his eyes bright with excitement at seeing his girlfriend perform in front of such a large and distinguished crowd. She just had to break it to him and reconcile soon. Maybe tonight. Or tomorrow. She was tired. “Mark you can’t go. It’s just…things, and well, Lady Murano thinks I could really be a hit with the clients and, and if you’re there I could be missing out on a lot of money.” There. She’d said it.
Mark said nothing. His smile shrank and he nodded, “okay.”
“It’s not really okay. I’d much prefer it if you were there. You know, the whole Court and all. But Lady Murano has invited me to submit a play so on my opening night you are so there. Okay?” She didn’t know why she felt so guilty.
“It’s alright. I understand. Business before pleasure, right?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Sighed again. “Let’s go to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.” She got up and started padding toward the bedroom, stopping when she realied Mark wasn’t with her. “You coming?”
He sat on the couch. He looked almost dejected. “In a minute.”
The next day was more of the same. She almost wished Bill would come back. He seemed so sweet. He was certainly manly once he got into the swing of things and she had, surprisingly, enjoyed herself. Some girls loved having sex for a living. They thought it was fantastic and they tried to convince her that once she had been doing it long enough, she’d like it too. So far she had mostly been annoyed at the fact that she had to endure the gropes of random people who just wanted a hole to stick it in. The things she did for money.
In the dressing room Rohanna poked her as she was shimmying into her red dress. “Pec, did I do something to piss you off? You’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”
“No. I’m fine.” She struggled with her zipper, unwilling to ask the other girl for help.
“Oh here, let me do it.” She forced her assistance, turning Peca around and commandeering the zipper. “Is this about the other night? I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you’re kind of sensitive about Mark and all but I figured that you would realize I was kidding. I’m sorry.” Pec turned around to face a sheepish Ro, which she had never before seen.
“I overreacted. I’ve been tense is all. Forgive me?”
“Of course!” Ro smiled her big, wide smile and Peca found herself embraced suddenly to the petite naked girl. Returning the embrace, she struck up a conversation about the excitement of opening night, just a week away. Ro seemed disappointed that Mark wouldn’t be attending but she knew the drill. She’d had a partner once and had to leave him home on opening night. He couldn’t take it and he’d left her. Inside, Peca felt a tiny swell of schadenfreude. Here was Rohanna, beautiful, perfect Rohanna, and for all her charms she was unable to keep the one she loved. Peca felt so lucky; she had everything.