Imprints in Stone [AU]

[GamesMaster]

Brianne nods. "Pitch your voice higher, too, and maybe a little baby talk. Like, 'yes sir, i wanna go pway'."

[Bethany]

"Wait, what?" Bethany exclaims. "You mean with- with a client, for sex?"

[GamesMaster]

"Well, yeah. 'course. A lot of us started out with kiddie-fuckers, they pay extra for that kinda thing."

[Bethany]

Bethany stares a long moment, then takes a deep breath. "I... I can't," Bethany says quietly, the sensation of ice wrenching her heart. Varric... No, I can't do that...  "Dad... his brother got involved in real... that... maybe, at least enough that he got in trouble with the guard for it. I can't do that to him, not after he saved Carver and me. Is- is there something else I can..?"

[GamesMaster]

Brianne looks at her critically. "You don't seem of age," she points out. "But, maybe humans are just weird. Alright. You want pain? Groups? Fluids? Yer not really the type for domme or humiliation stuff."

[Bethany]

"I'm sixteen," Bethany mutters with a wince, a pang hitting her. "But advertising that is different than ignoring the half year I'm short." I have almost zero idea what half of that means in relation to sex. "Group could... work, I guess? Do... what about like... soft stuff? Do clients never want... comfort or... I dunno, romancy stuff? Like... a pretend girlfriend for a night sort of thing?"

[GamesMaster]

"Not from us, they don't," says Brianne frankly. "Most guys can get a girl. Those that want a rental go to the high class places, like La Petite Mort. Folks come to whores for shit they can't get for free, an' they come to us for shit they can't get uptown: weird shit, illegal shit, deep discounts, stuff like that."

[Bethany]

"Oh." Well... shit. What can I offer then? "What... about..." Weird shit.... weird shit... maybe... "What about... playacting? It can't only be... kids that people wish they could fuck. Maybe I could make up like... a guard uniform? Or priestess robes? Not sure who's but..."

[GamesMaster]

Brianne gives her a skeptical look. "I guess. I know Petite Mort does that but maybe if you charge less'n them..."

[Bethany]

"Right, good," Bethany says with relief. "I can make it myself and I have places to keep them so that won't be a big trouble. I know I still won't do as much business as you or the other workers but it'll still show I'm..." She sighs guilty. "I'm not really cut out for this, am I?"

[GamesMaster]

"Nah. Not really." Brienne shakes her head. "Most of us were desperate. Starving, homeless. Willing to do anything. Yer.... nice. Safe. Middle-class, I guess. Ya don't live in Coalside, fer sure. Yer not one of us. Appreciate the help and all, but it shows."

[Bethany]

Bethany winces, looking away. "...yeah. Is... should I not be doing this?" she asks in a timid voice.

[GamesMaster]

Brianne sits back. "Up to you. No matter what, 'm getting clear of my pimp."

Here she pulls her top aside, revealing a small, circular burn on her left breast, singed fur revealing reddened skin underneath. "Fucker's gettin' meaner," she admits. "'es onto me anyway. If not this, I'll find another pimp. Mosta the girls are in the same way: lookin' fer a change, taking their chances on this instead. If ya stop, they'll keep on. We're all tough as nails."

[Bethany]

Right then, the brothel has to keep going. "I... okay. But... should I do a turn whoring? Would that actually help? Or should I just not take a cut and do the madaming full time? A quarter of your takes go into the house like it is now, but none of it to me." She laughs, the tone rather self-mocking. "Like you said, I'm fine. Got a good house, plenty of food and other such things. I don't need the money in the slightest."

[GamesMaster]

"Up to you. You said you think the girls' respect you more if you do, an' maybe that's true. But not if yer so choosy you don't really take any clients."