10-29-2022, 01:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-29-2022, 01:35 PM by Ruth Longbottom.)
[CW: prostitution, crude language]
After a night in a bed that was nicer than anything she had ever slept in – she had slept after the rich fuck she had taken up to her room had left – Ruth felt well rested and content. she made her way down the stairs with her dark curls down and still wet, and her fancy but hand-me-down dress tied loosely and half-buttoned. There’d be breakfast ready for her every morning, she had been told. A roof, a luxurious bedroom, plenty of food, getting pretty clothes and other presents (at least some girls got them from the men), men to keep her from getting bored, and a security guard to handle the violent types. She should have applied to work here years ago. Screw the wasted years in Grosmont, and screw that apartment Willaby’s cock had offered. Screw frigid Crane and his judgement too.
Alright, technically it wasn’t all hers just yet. The boss was away, and she’d been allowed in for the time being. But that was a detail. She’d wrap that little lawyer man around her finger. His wife had just given birth, or so she had heard, so he was probably desperate to stick it in a different c-, …could it be that she smelled cooked breakfast? Her stomach growled.
No, that was from the inn next door, she realized, when she came downstairs and the smell had disappeared and the table contained cold breakfast. There was no time to be disappointed. The bread looked fresh and there was butter and cheese, fruits and cold meats. It was still a better breakfast than she’d eaten for years.
None of the other girls were there yet, but Ruth didn’t stop to consider whether she should wait for them. She sat down, grabbed some of the cold meat and stuffed it into her mouth, before anyone might come in to tell her not to.
After a night in a bed that was nicer than anything she had ever slept in – she had slept after the rich fuck she had taken up to her room had left – Ruth felt well rested and content. she made her way down the stairs with her dark curls down and still wet, and her fancy but hand-me-down dress tied loosely and half-buttoned. There’d be breakfast ready for her every morning, she had been told. A roof, a luxurious bedroom, plenty of food, getting pretty clothes and other presents (at least some girls got them from the men), men to keep her from getting bored, and a security guard to handle the violent types. She should have applied to work here years ago. Screw the wasted years in Grosmont, and screw that apartment Willaby’s cock had offered. Screw frigid Crane and his judgement too.
Alright, technically it wasn’t all hers just yet. The boss was away, and she’d been allowed in for the time being. But that was a detail. She’d wrap that little lawyer man around her finger. His wife had just given birth, or so she had heard, so he was probably desperate to stick it in a different c-, …could it be that she smelled cooked breakfast? Her stomach growled.
No, that was from the inn next door, she realized, when she came downstairs and the smell had disappeared and the table contained cold breakfast. There was no time to be disappointed. The bread looked fresh and there was butter and cheese, fruits and cold meats. It was still a better breakfast than she’d eaten for years.
None of the other girls were there yet, but Ruth didn’t stop to consider whether she should wait for them. She sat down, grabbed some of the cold meat and stuffed it into her mouth, before anyone might come in to tell her not to.
