Thread: Deterioration (Kayi)

Ten gil? came a voice from behind the redhead. It was heavy and gruff, and wasn't... it wasn't a normal tone. There was something to it, something portending about it. I've got ten gil. I've got more than that, actually. A hand brushed up against the leather-clad archer as the man came into view, portly and tanned, his beard thick and dark, his hair still decently thick, but speckled with grey. If he wasn't twice the girl's age then he was twice her age with change. I've got more... but it sounds like you're pretty desperate for ten. He was a local merchant, a man with money in a city where money dictated law. The smile he gave the young woman was devious and filled with intent, combined with the physical touch of his hand gliding up her back, slowly from just above her backside up to her shoulder blades, then to a side, beneath one of her arms. It's amazing how many women are going for one job, don't you think? I was watching the whole time. Them... and you. Mm. You're in a tough situation, aren't you? What's your name? I bet it's a pretty one, sweetheart. And I bet if you don't come across that money quick enough, one of those other ladies will get the job before you even get there. Scouting something like this hadn't been the man's intention he'd simply come for a meal and a drink, some thick stew and cheap beer, but when you saw something like this you didn't pass it up. Some women were still up front by the counter, eagerly awaiting their turns, but for the most part things were dispersing. Ten gil for a blowjob. Twelve if you swallow. To the goddamn point, and with a hell of a lowball at that. Desperation was an interesting bargaining chip. My shop is three down on the left. His hand drifted from her shoulder blade down to her backside, giving her ass a quick, firm squeeze before he started past her. The man sauntered out the door smelling of beer and smiling a fun little smile. Maybe she wouldn't come. Maybe she would. There was a degree of fun in just the proposition itself. - - - - Four, five... alright, alright, who didn't chip in? Gregor? Fuck, man, is it every time? Alright, alright, that makes six now. That'll do, I think. Yeah. Look at her that'll do, heh heh. Whether or not the priestess had noticed them, they'd surely noticed her. It had started simple enough. She'd asked one of the men for a donation when he passed by, got shunned, and went to ask someone else. Innocent, right? Though when he saw his buddies across the way they asked what that woman wanted, and from there the jokes started. And from there the suggestions began to pour. After about thirty seconds of back and forth each of the six agreed to chip in a gil to have a little fun. This damn shithole was a place God had forsaken were that not the case, perhaps one of the cloth would get a little more respect. The gil in the man's green cotton cap jingled together as he approached the priestess, purposefully, advertising its existence. When his footsteps brought him to a stop beside the blonde he jingled it a few times more, smiling a fun smile, taking in the look on her face. Hey there. He glanced down at her robe, specifically at the way it hung about her curves. Yeah, there was something nice beneath that thing, alright. Six gil if you show me 'n my friends here the goods. That's easy money. ...How bad ya need it? Bad enough to stand out here 'n beg, eh? - - - - In a place like this, with young things like them, it apparently didn't take long for the offers to come in. Insulting. Degrading. Disgusting. Yet, were they men, they wouldn't even have an option. Were they men, out begging in the slums, it was unlikely anyone would even care.