"How does that feel?" Blueberry said with a soothing voice as she pressed her knuckles into her client's back. It was full of scars, some fresh and tender, others old and faded. Blueberry was careful to avoid the newer ones as she made her way down his spine, undoing every knot he had. Her client, a tall, muscular man just shy of of thirty, grumbled in reply.
Most eloquent, Blueberry thought to herself as she smiled seductively.
The whore took the time to rub warm oil on her hands. They were in a small, special room in the bath house, full of incense, oil, and fluffy cushions and blankets. Blueberry gave many clients massages here. It was a quite, private room, and one of Blue's favorites, besides from her quarters.
"You're so strong," she flattered. "I like being visted by men with muscles, like you. I'm so lucky."
Generally, Blue was lying through her teeth, but this time, she almost meant every word. This man held a seat of power in a small, but powerful, criminal originization that dealt with black marketed cursed items. Normally, Blue didn't care much for smugglers, having dealt with them sometimes for exotic herbs or perfumes, but these men dealt with items that involved sacrifices, and there have been a rise in missing begger children and whores in the city. This she had learned in the streets. The orginization's name was Fasi Mabaa, so she had learned using her own methods, a mix of birbrary, threats, and the best rub downs the city had to offer. She was lucky, in a way. She had heard tales of the terror of a man she now carressed, a kidnapper and a murderer. She knew it was him because of descriptions of his dark skin, his one eye green and the other brown, and his black, striaght hair that travelled down his back. He towered over she, and was missing a pinkie finger, one he had lost during a kidnapping.
Yes, she had been lucky for Iiyoma Berayon to walk into The Randy Peach... Though, of course, his visit was inevitable. The Randy Peach was one of the most famous brothels in the region. It was only a matter of time before the hunter grew cocky. Of course, hiring a few people to drop the name throughout the city helped.
When Blue was finished, Iiyoma turned over and drew her near. Blue kissed him deeply on the lips, running her fingers in his hair. She had to admit, his hardened face was handsome. She hated him all the more for it.
"Not here," she moaned. "Upstairs."
She dressed Iiyoma in a robe and led him through the bathhouse and up the stairs. It was louder outside her quiet little room. Other whores were entertaining clients with gentle song in the bath house with loud shouts from the drunks or the giggling of those flirting. She led him up the stairs, richly carpeted, and down a hall to her room. She wanted to personally kill Iiyoma... but not yet. Blueberry was a patient huntress. Why kill now when she could follow him to his nest?