Thread: Kundalini Rising - An Adult ATLA/Legend of Korra Fanfiction

The Fire Nation - Fire Fountain City Mizue stared at Mimi. 'How pretty Mimi is with her makeup on and her hair all done up' she thought to herself. The soft curve of her eyeliner, accentuating her mysterious almond eyes, made her look like an exotic fairy of some sort. Yes, Mimi was desirable, mysterious, demure and fierce at the same time. Most of all, she was wanted by men. She was a goddess. No, she was too young to be a goddess. A godette? Mizue closed her hand mirror and Mimi went away. That girl in the reflection wasn't her after all at least, not all of who she was. She was Mizue on paper, Zu to the girls in the club, little one to her family at least, she had been, and yes, on stage and behind closed curtains with clients, she was Mimi. She was of the opinion that things would be a lot easier if she had fewer names and fewer identities, or maybe if she had a lot more identities, maybe some a bit more pleasant than her current ones. Mizue's train of thought was interrupted by the curt, snappy voice of , the club's owner. Come along now, Zu. He said sternly. You're on tonight and I don't pay you to sit around and daydream. Mizue's brow twitched in irritation. You don't pay me at all. She muttered under her breath. Normally she wouldn't be so bold, but her day had not exactly been going her way. Her moment of bravery was, as expected, not very well received. Her cheek stung as the sound of the slap brought a hushed silence to the previously busy dressing room. Mizue's cheek flushed where she had been hit. The rest of the girls watched with mild interest. What was the crazy kid going to do next? She never learned did she? Many clucked softly with disapproval. Your tongue is loose girl. Mirsho spat. Tell me, when does your tongue do you any good? he asked venomously. Mizue stared at the ground. Her cheek stung with pain and her eyes glistened with tears of humiliation. Now the heat of embarrassment had flushed the rest of her face so that the stark slap on her cheek was less visible. Only when I am on my knees, sir. She said softly, berated. Sensing that her fire was quenched for now, the house girls turned back to their beautification. Apparently satisfied with his disciplining, turned and left, calling over his shoulder Ten minutes ladies. Mizue slinked back to her stool and examined her cheek. It was quite red and her makeup was smeared, so she began to re-apply cosmetics from her small bag. She made her cheek pale and beautiful again using a mixture of milk, a soft kind of reflective sand and a little animal fat. She was, of course, not worth the expensive designer makeup of the upper class. Mizue thought, if she had money like the noble ladies of bedtime stories, she would never spend it on covering up her face. Surely, the first thing she would buy would be fresh, natural fruit. Not those crippled DNAble apples. Rather, real strawberries, juicy and sweet. She salivated at the thought. Let's go Zu. The smoky voice of Lucy, one of the other girls, broke her second daydream of the night. It was time to go on. Mizue sighed and ran a comb through her hair one last time before joining the rest of the girls in the queue at the stage door. The air was thick with the smoke of opiates and the sweet smell of alcohol. All manner of men's voices could be heard from the other side of the thin panel separating the backstage area from the club itself. Deep voices, excited and boisterous drunk soldiers and law officers. Softer and nervous young lads on their first visit to such a place. There were even familiar voices from regular clients. The paper lanterns were dimmed and eventually, the voices were covered by the sultry sound of traditional instruments signaling the beginning of the night's performance. Mizue and the rest of the girls snaked through the seedy club, winding through the tables. They were met with much excitement and discord. As she made her rounds strutting amongst the tables, Mizue did her best to surreptitiously keep her back turned to the men. This meant they would grope and grab her backside and slip small, worthless bills into the sash of her silky robe. Mizue was still uncomfortable with this, but she knew there were far worse places that men could put their hands. Mizue did her best to keep a coy grin spread across her porcelain face as the girls made their way back to the stage. She caught the eye of a shy looking young soldier. The boy had been a client of hers before. She liked him. He had treated her well and had seemed altogether a bit uncomfortable. She smiled a kinder grin at him and he grinned back. Finding herself on stage, she located the gangly young soldier in the crowd. She hoped he paid for her tonight, sparing her from less desirable partners. They lined up on the raised stage as the female musicians played a crescendo stop. stepped up to the side of the stage and began to call them out by name and deliver embarrassing descriptions of them as well as theirtrade-related skills. When their names were called, they each stepped up and removed their robes to reveal their undergarments so that the men could appraise them, should they later wish to pay for their services. When it was Mimi's turn, she sauntered up to the middle of the stage. Face burning with a mixture of heat and embarrassment, Mizue undid the tie to her robe and let it fall at her feet. She stood before them, nearly naked, as men called to her and whistled over Mirsho's detailed description of Mimi's oral services. She had been taught various skills of seduction and she had picked up many more on the job. Thus, it was calculated and deliberate that she turned this way or bent that way, accentuating her flat abdomen, slight bust and her small, round butt. Being the youngest girl at the club meant she didn't have a bunch going for her in the category of secondary sex characteristics. Instead, she capitalized on her innocent face, rosy cheeks and young, nubile frame. Mimi blew a kiss as Mirsho finished his adulation on her private parts. She collected her robes and allowed herself a second-long break in character to make a displeased face at what she'd just done whilst her back was to the club. By the time she had rejoined the other girls in line she was back in character. Soon the girls filed off the stage to the sound of much applause. Mizue knew it was generally better not to make eye contact with any of the men for long while she was on stage, but she chanced a smile and glance at her young soldier to further entice him. Much to her chagrin, his superior officers and friends noticed this and teased him good-naturedly. They were a rowdy-looking bunch and she wondered if she might later regret her little flirt. The music started back up as soon as they had all left the stage and this time it was much faster in rhythm. As expected, Mimi wound her way into the crowd, touching men on their shoulders and kissing them on their cheeks. She wrinkled her nose as an older man turned to catch one of her kisses on his mouth. She winked at him, inwardly grimacing at the taste of smoke and alcohol. With any luck he'd spent all his money on booze and she wouldn't spend any of the night giving him more attention than she needed to. A minute or two into their rounds, one of the men slipped a bill into her sash. It was more generous than the usual, so she grinned coyly at him and ran her hands down his chest, leaning in to kiss his neck gently. She came away with the taste of sweat on her lips and, forcing herself to appear as though she was enjoying the whole ordeal, gave his leg a little stroke up close to his crotch. There were strict rules about what they could and could not do on a tip. Before a deal had been officially made with Mirsho, a girl was not allowed to touch a man's crotch with her hands, feet or anything above her shoulders. They also couldn't show favoritism without undue compensation, make arrangements under the table so that Mirsho couldn't take a cut, or remove any of their undergarments. This was all just as well with Mizue since she couldn't really imagine ever wanting to do most of those things unless she had to. The rest of the night went on pretty routinely. After the first gentleman's appropriate tip, she continued to receive her typical low compensations. She didn't have large breasts like lots of the other girls and she was young enough that a lot of the men felt a little uncomfortable interacting with her in such a lewd way. Perhaps she reminded some of them of their daughters or nieces or perhaps their skewed moral codes had some unwritten age cutoff. Most of the men smelled of body odor and drugs, sometimes covered up with cheap cologne. Mizue thought it was funny that some of the men seemed to try to dress on the nicer side or put on cologne as though they had a woman to impress. The whole business was fairly straightforward. The men saw the girls displayed on the stage, sampled them as they walked through the club for an hour or two, then if they took a liking, they paid for a girl's company. There was no wooing involved, and at least for Mizue, she tried to treat every job like a business encounter. She knew her role well enough now, and she didn't like to think about exactly what it was she was doing. Crying on the job was an instant ticket to the full force of Mirsho's anger and most likely, expulsion from the club, meaning Mizue would be on the streets. If men would pay money to receive her sexual attention, she didn't like to think what they could do to her if she was abandoned on the streets, essentially free of charge. Near the end of the hour in which she was expected to do rounds, a man she had previously not noticed beckoned her over. He was in the very farthest corner of the club. Another man, muscular, dressed fully in black and not very friendly looking sat slightly behind him to his right. The two wore very expensive looking clothing, but they didn't have the look of men who dressed up to go to a club like this. Rather, Mizue got the impression as she approached that the two were in their regular attire. They just looked sonatural. The man who had summoned her smiled. He held a bill in his hand, turned down. Mizue would have assumed that this meant the bill was small, but once she got close enough to see, her nose was filled with a most fragrant scent. The man's cologne was strong but not offensive like her usual customers', and it most certainly was not cheap. Her eyes widened as she watched him slide the bill into her sash. Her initial reaction was that he must have made a mistake. This was at least two hundred times the normal tip she received. The money he had given her could have bought her private services for ten days and nights straight. She opened her mouth to say something but the look in the man's eyes silenced her. Whatever this man's intentions, it was not an accident that he'd put this specific bill in her sash. Mizue wondered if there really were people in the world to whom this sum was paltry enough to spend nonchalantly at a club. She glanced quickly at man in his dark suit, but he was staring determinedly forward, surveying the room. Returning her attention to the first man, she sat on his lap gently. There was so much pressure now! What could she do that was worth such generosity? The man could clearly sense her hesitation and he placed a hand on her back. It was reassuring, and his smile was dazzling. He tapped his cheek and she leaned in to plant a kiss on it. Mizue pressed herself quickly into the man's body, but he shook his head and slid her from his lap onto her feet. That will be all. He said. Without further ado the men rose and exited the club, leaving a confused Mizue in their wake. She wasn't left much time to ponder what had just happened. A moment later, 's voice called her from across the club. She'd been bought tonight. Great. Mizue nodded and hurried backstage under the guise of freshening up and making herself presentable for her client. Frantically, she struggled to push her small vanity table to the side slightly. Pulling hard on a loose board in the part of the wall normally covered by her mirror, she eventually got it to give way slightly so that one of her small hands could fit behind it. 'This could be my chance.' She told herself. There was no way Mirsho was going to take this from her. For the first time ever, there was the possibility of a life spent somewhere, anywhere, other than this. It was distant, like a star in the sky on an otherwise pitch-dark night, but the fact that it was there gave her more hope than she had felt in a very long time. She stashed the money behind the board and scrambled to push the desk back into place before looking in the mirror, fixing her hair and steeling herself for what tonight would bring.