EXTRACT FOR
Roman Slave
(Terri Pray)
One
The waterfall of deliciously hot water from the multi-headed shower, played across her body, teasing her with the promise of something far more than water to torment her into spirals of ecstasy. Kami needed this; she'd known that before she'd forced herself out of bed. She earned more than enough to pay for her apartment, though she earned every penny through hard labor, the type of work most turned their nose up at, or believed beneath them, never knowing the level of physical and mental work involved.
These were the moments she lived for, and something she needed to push herself through whatever assignment Phillipa called her about. Now, with Jen out of the picture for at least two weeks, there'd be more opportunities. Not that she was lacking for work, none of the men and women working for Phillipa's agency ever went without a job. The agency was so busy that the boss turned away more clients than she accepted.
She turned under the water and trailed her fingers over her slick skin, gathering beads of water that pearled across her breasts and clung to her nipples. Some remained clinging and pulling on her nipples, tugging on them as she stood there with her eyes closed, enjoying the moment.
Her inner walls clenched, a low rumble of need and hunger moved through her body, but she didn't do anything to increase the low burn. No, better to go to work hungry to give herself a better chance of reacting to what the clients might want from her.
Maybe she was taking longer than she should. But a few extra minutes in the shower wasn't going to kill her or make her late. She'd never been late a day in her life, not to work, or anything else, unless it had been through actions she had no control over. Like an accident. No, she always arrived well ahead of the time she was supposed to be there.
It was just a part of who she was.
Kami smiled and turned her face up into the water, eyes still closed. Real, clean, chemical free water. Unless you counted the small amount of fluoride, but none of the other harsher additives so many people now had to put up with. It was an expensive shower, just as the food on her table, and the clothing she wore were all visible signs of a job that paid very well indeed. And what she did carried risks, ones most would tell her she was a fool for exposing herself to.
Indeed, if her wealthy neighbors ever realized what she did for a living then she had little doubt her life here would change for the worse. Not that it would prevent her from continuing her career path. She'd dealt with being snubbed by those who looked down on her or called her scum or worse for her choice of work. You grew a thick skin or you didn't make it through the day in her line of work.
She shook her head, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around herself.
Her neighbors wouldn't do anything officially, of course, if they discovered her secret. What she now did was completely legal. It was just that, although many of the men and women living here would use the services of someone like her, it didn't mean they wanted to live next to one of her low standing.
Or see them on a daily basis on the street, in the parking garage, or heaven's help them, in the luxurious saltwater swimming pool or hot tubs that came as a part of the package.
Hookers.
That's what women like her had been historically called, but it was far more than merely spreading her legs for whomever could pay her fees. Not for her, at least.
Times had changed and the abilities open to someone like herself had adapted with those changes. A few expensive implants combined with a natural taste for S&M play, allowed her to explore and meant she was capable of dealing with just about anything a client might want to explore. As long as it fell within both the law and Phillipa's rules for such assignations.
The final implant was the most expensive, and she'd saved for a year to purchase it, along with the surgery involved. But it was also one of those things that gave her a leg up compared to others in the trade. She could be anyone the client desired, from any time period, real or imagined. Or any situation imaginable. That cost, just as the money for the healing vat when it was needed, or other treatments, ended up being covered by the client either directly or indirectly.
Those who could afford her or those like her, didn't mind those extra costs.
A slave for hire, that was another name for her, prostitute was yet another. Pleasure giver was the term the tax system preferred to use, but it all boiled down to the same thing.
Kami didn't care though. It was a name, a title, one she looked for on her paystub at the end of the day. Or the week.
And damn if it isn't a nice chunk of change, even if the assignment has been a simple one. Which they seldom were.
Paychecks that enabled her to live in a part of the town that was reserved for the rich and often famous. So, she would always have to be aware that her neighbors wouldn't approve of what she did. Or that she might see one of them at her work, but if they did, she'd be in a position where they'd be the uncomfortable ones, afraid she'd out them for their choice of pleasure.
Which she never would.
It was all worth it. This way she lived in a part of time she enjoyed, where she was safe, and she kept her neighbors at arm's length. They just assumed she was a private person with her own funds. Though she'd dealt with a few asking, in a roundabout manner, who paid for her lifestyle.
Kami tucked the towel tight around her body and another around her hair before she headed out of the bathroom. Steam still filled the bathroom, but it would fade soon enough, drawn out by the fans. Right now, she had other things to think about, including the list on the table.
Her latest client.
Phillipa had sent over the details the night before and now, with her body and hair clean, she had the focus needed to re-read the information and prepare as best she could before the new persona and history was downloaded into the implant.
Her brow creased as she read through what the client, no clients, wanted during their time with her. A husband an wife team or that's what she assumed as she read through the details. Whenever you ended up with a man and woman teaming up there were split odds between a brother and sister, friends, a casually dating couple trying something out, work colleagues, or a married couple.
When there was a long-term relationship such as marriage, then there was a good thirty percent chance this was either a try at an open relationship or their version of it, and a fifty percent chance one or both was trying to make up for stepping out on the other. That last twenty percent was the type she truly liked. A couple who enjoyed stepping out into the realms of fantasy to expand their sexual fantasies, live one or two out, or experience a form of BDSM play they might not otherwise have the chance to try.
This one struck her as a married couple, though she couldn't identify exactly what it was in the documents that gave her that impression, but still her mind had squarely filed them in that category.
She licked her bottom lip. A historical setting and it had been decently researched and not one she'd played around in before. It was the type of job Jen normally took on; one she loved as anyone with Jen's love for history couldn't help but be drawn to. Not that she blamed Jen for being unavailable. By all accounts her last couple of sessions had taken their toil on her friend and Jen deserved some time to recover. She had time to study up on the setting, and she wouldn't need full details as the download would supply everything she needed. Still, spending time with Jen had encouraged her to learn everything she could, whenever the chance arose.
This new client would keep her busy for several hours, six at least if the files were correct. It wouldn't be too hard on her body, nothing a simple healing session wouldn't take care of, unless the couple pushed harder than detailed.
It was possible. More than a few clients found themselves caught up in the moment.
She pulled an antique ivory backed hairbrush from her vanity and sat down in front of the mirror. With firm strokes she worked it through her hair, wincing at the first few knots as they caught on the bristles. Real bristles that she'd had repaired and replaced out of one of her first paychecks after all the essentials had been taken care of. They didn't make brushes like this anymore, but there were rare craftsmen and women who enjoyed restoring pieces like this.
Her mind played over the assignment.
The garb for this one would be easy enough. Loose and flowing, which meant it would be gentle on the skin, and cling to her body when she moved the right way. Nothing that might damage her until they ripped the clothing from her, or whatever it was they had in mind.
Ancient Rome.
A stylized version of it at least, but it would be interesting to examine her memories after her time with the clients. With one last pull of the brush through her hair, she stepped away from the vanity and prepared herself for the hour-long trip to work.
"Early again." Phillipa didn't look up from her desk but the smile was easily heard behind her words. "I should be used to it by now, but between you and Jen I never have to worry if you're going to be here on time."
The implication that the same couldn't be said for all her employees was there, but Kami didn't take the bait. She didn't know Phillipa well enough to know if she was testing Kami or if the woman was honestly opening up in the hopes of building something more than a workplace relationship.
Friendship?
Maybe, but until she had a better feel for how Phillipa acted it wasn't a risk she'd take. "You know me. I'm always early. Better chance of getting a head start on things instead of being caught off guard." It was the same line she used with everyone who mentioned her being early.
The truth was darker than that, but she saw no reason to share it with Phillipa. Not yet at least. The woman was her boss, not a close friend, and few had ever become close enough to her to risk sharing that information with.
"Yes, you've said." She gestured to the chair. "Take a seat. They aren't going to be ready for you in the green room for another thirty minutes."
Which meant they'd grown used to her coming in early but were still adapting. They also had to work with other service providers. She wasn't going to become frustrated with the wait, especially when it was one of her own making. With a smile she settled into the offered chair. "Thanks."
Phillipa's fingers danced across the slender keyboard. They'd finally persuaded the woman to switch from an older style, clunky keyboard to one barely thicker than a sheet of paper, with lit keys that shifted from one format to another with the slightest touch on the right command key. Yet, from the frown gracing Phillipa's brow, she wasn't entirely content with the new set up.
Habits are hard to change. And anything new is bad until we adapt to it.
"He's a repeat client, so I don't have many concerns about this, beyond the addition of his wife. Not entirely unexpected as he'd discussed this several visits ago. Still, she's an unknown factor."
And women could be far crueler than men, a fact she'd faced several times. Whoever thought the female of the species was gentle had no clue how vicious women could be. Especially to each other. "Did he provide any further details about her, the scene or their expectations."
"No, which leaves me a little unsettled. Still, we'll have a one-on-one watch in place, so if there's a problem we'll be there to help."
There was always at least one human observer, normally through monitors. No more than two scenes per human observer. With situations like this having it reduced to one observer per scene made sense.
The fact Phillipa thinks it's necessary? No, she was taking precautions because the wife was a new factor in the scenario. An unknown. She'd do the same thing with any unknown. In fact she had. Not only with Kami's clients, but Jen's and others.
Phillipa ran a tight ship, in all respects.
One of the reasons she'd come to work for the woman after trying two other agencies first only to find she disagreed with their practices. Especially how they treated the sex workers. You didn't ruin the very people who brought clients in or allow clients who wouldn't follow any safety practices. Men and women who wanted nothing more than a warm body to fuck and use as they saw fit.
She preferred this.
It was almost artistic with the level of preparation work involved for anything like this.
Sure, Phillipa still took on simple clients who wanted the whore experience, or the kinky girlfriend, friend with benefits, or nothing more than a good bed, a willing body, and a disease-free playmate. All of that was just fine and she could do that type of work if full scenarios weren't available.
"Any concerns?"
Kami pasted on a smile, fixing it in place. "No, I believe you've covered everything. So, we should be good." Perhaps not good, but she'd manage. Besides, Rome! What little she knew of the era danced through her thoughts. Images of marble columns, temples, togas, the use of ancient cosmetics, sandals, slaves, gladiators, and legionaries all filled her mind. A time period of powerful men, and women who held little power save through their husbands, brothers, fathers, and lovers. Not like Egypt where women had some power.
"Then we're good. If you want to head down to the green room, they'll have a chair for you. I believe they'll be finished with Shannon in the next fifteen minutes, she doesn't have anything complicated and she's always willing to chat."
Too willing, but Kami knew a dismissal when she heard one. "Thanks."
"See you after the appointment."