Read Under A Velvet Cloak for Free Online

report counts.”
    “I will try.” They talked further, and Kerena learned that Molly was a local girl whose family could not support her, so had sold her to the brothel. She was in the process of earning out her stake. In time she would make it, and be free, because this house was honest.
    The madam reappeared. “Molly-take the lord to your chamber now.”
    The girl jumped up. “Fare well, Rena,” she said as she went to intercept her client. “I’ll see you again soon.”
    “Come with me,” the madam said to Kerena. “Blake is ready.”
    Blake was a gruff swarthy man who turned out to be surprisingly competent as a sexual partner. He stripped her and tried her in several positions, which she accommodated immediately. He did not climax; this was not pleasure but business. “Fair face. Good young body,” he remarked. He had not even removed his clothing, baring only his business member. “Age?”
    “I’m fourteen.”
    He lay back on the bed. “Seduce me.”
    Kerena smiled at him, then put her face to his and kissed him linger-ingly on the mouth. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his hairy chest. She took his hands and set them on her breasts. She took down his trousers and kissed his member, bringing it erect. “I want you,” she whispered. “Take me.” It was all an act, as he knew; the question was how appealing it would seem to a client.
    He clasped her, put her face down on the bed, and straddled her from behind. He plunged into her, stroking until he climaxed. Then he got off her, turned her over, and smiled. “You’re good. Pretty, plush, malleable, skilled. You made me enjoy it.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Dress. You’re done here.”
    The madam reappeared. She had probably been watching. Blake gave her an emphatic thumbs-up.
    “You’ll get our top room,” the madam said. “That’s an avenue to outside work with wealthy clients. Treat them well and you will do well. We take half your earnings in-house, none out-house. We provide your costumes, food, private bed during your time off. No sadism; if anyone hurts you, yell for Blake and be sure it won’t happen again. What’s your name?”
    “Rena.”
    They were at the assigned room. It was well appointed, with curtains, cushions, a couch, and pictures on the wall. It was obviously meant to make a wealthy or high class man feel comfortable. There was a covered potty discreetly in an alcove. “Put this on,” the madam said, taking a glittering dress off a hook. “We have a high class clientele. Your first client is a lord of the king’s court.” She winked. “Low-level, but with money. We call them all lords. Lord X, anonymous, though we know who they are. Make them feel big. Never hurry them; if they stay overtime, they pay more. If they want to talk, listen attentively, but keep their secrets. Discretion is invaluable. If they like you, word will spread. Some of our girls have married their clients and become ladies. We keep their secret; they will never be blackmailed. Keep that in mind.”
    Kerena barely had time to clean up after Blake and don the glittery dress, which had no underclothing, before Lord X appeared. He looked like a fop, but he was extremely potent, having at her three times in half an hour.
    Kerena suffered a wave of doubt. What was she doing here? This was not her proper way of life!
    The thought caused the tracks to blur.
But you want to question the men about their travels,
Jolie thought.
This is the way to meet many men, and to get them to talk
    Kerena nodded internally. She was not one to make commitments, then renege. She would stay the course.
    The blurring ceased. Alignment had been maintained.
    Kerena got a break Molly found her and guided her to the kitchen for bread and jam. “We have to eat when we can; the clients always come first.”
    “So I gather.”
    Another girl was there, older and somewhat worn. “How come you got the best room, new bitch?” she demanded of Kerena.
    “Shut up, Nix,”