Elodie Harper - The Wolf Den

She gets better at pretending, but Amara is never satisfied. The desire to escape takes hold, its roots digging deep under her skin, breaking her apart. There are days when even fear of Felix doesn’t crush the urge to run away. What stops her is the certainty she would die on the road.

The only person who hates life in the brothel even more violently than Amara is Paris. His continued presence in the cells twice a week is a strain for everyone.

“I don’t think I could bear it if Gallus had to do that,” Beronice says. All of them save Paris and Cressa are ‘unoccupied’, hanging about in the smoky corridor, trying to ignore the sounds of Fabia’s son and his customer sweating it out nearby. They are supposed to be naked, but the March nights are still cold, so they huddle together wrapped in blankets. “I just couldn’t look at him the same. For a man to be on the receiving end. The shame!”

“Oh shut up,” Victoria says. “Think what Gallus might say, if that’s the way you’re going. I couldn’t bear MY precious cock in her mouth; think of all the OTHER cocks she’s sucked !”

“It’s not the same thing at all!” Beronice says. “Gallus would never say that about me.” She fusses with her hair. “Though he does get jealous, obviously.”

“What does he say?” Dido asks.

“He says he’d like to kill all the grubby men who lay a finger on me. That’s why he’s going to buy me. So he can have me all to himself. Then nobody else will be allowed to touch me. Not even…” She breaks off, unable to say their boss’s name, but looks up at the ceiling so they understand who she means. Beronice smiles. “That’s how much he loves me.”

Amara doesn’t disbelieve Beronice when she says these things. She is a bit on the dim side though surely not a liar. But it’s a struggle to picture Gallus coming out with these flowery phrases. Does he clasp his breast too? Kiss the hem of Beronice’s robe? He’s clearly a more enterprising little shit than he looks. Absolutely none of the other she-wolves – not even Dido – have ever considered the possibility Gallus might be genuine rather than devious.

“Does he tell you how much his mother would have adored you?” Victoria asks.

“Yes!” Beronice says. “He does! He told me I remind him of her, that I have the same kind eyes, that…” She stops when she realizes the others are trying to suppress their sniggers. A man reels in through the doorway, no doubt fresh from one of the nearby taverns. Beronice stalks towards him, almost bundling him into her cell in her hurry to get away from her friends. “You’re all just jealous!” she shouts, before dragging the curtain across with a scrape.

“You shouldn’t tease her so much,” Amara says.

“I know, I know. But she’s too easy to tease.”

“Like his mother !” Dido is still incredulous at Gallus’s love talk.

“What a weasel,” Victoria says. “He’s got no shame at all.” A stifled, not altogether happy, yelp comes from the direction of Beronice’s cell. Beronice herself is ominously quiet. “She’s really cross, isn’t she? That one won’t be bringing his cock back here in a hurry.”

“In this way.” It’s Thraso’s voice. “We’ll make sure you’re well entertained.”

The women look at each other, suddenly alert. Thraso doesn’t normally give the punters an introduction. A large figure steps over the threshold, flickering into view in the light of the oil lamps. A cloak, a flash of green. Vibo.

“Oh!” Victoria gasps, flinging off her blanket. “Who is this vision? He must be for me!”

“Felix said to be sure to fuck the one called Amara.” Vibo’s voice is not friendly.

“But of course! You can’t have just one woman.” Victoria is already winding herself round him, kissing him, helping him off with his clothes. She glances back at the others. “You must have three! Look!” She snaps her fingers. For a moment, Amara cannot think what to do. Then she grabs Dido’s hand, spinning her round. It’s not the most graceful move, but the pair of them end up pressed against Vibo in a bare-limbed tangle which she hopes will give him the right idea.

“Three? All at once?” He doesn’t sound altogether certain. “Two would be fine.”

“You must have us all!” Victoria whispers, her voice husky, as if tormented by desire. “You can’t be stingy, keeping yourself to just two . Not when we all want to fuck you. You have to let us all fuck you!” She lets out a whimpering moan.

It is the most ridiculous performance Amara has ever seen. She cannot believe the man will fall for it. But Vibo’s expression softens, and he pulls Victoria to him, clasping her backside. “What a naughty little wolf you are.”

Victoria needs no further encouragement. She has manoeuvred Vibo into her cell, disrobed him and laid him out flat on his back, all by the time Amara and Dido are drawing the curtain. The bath manager is hung like a snail, but Victoria shrieks in rapture at the sight, leaping nimbly on top. Vibo groans.

“Oh! Don’t be greedy!” Amara squeals. She flings herself at Vibo squashing her breasts in his face.

“But I want to sit there!” Dido tries to push Amara aside, panting in her efforts to clamber up onto the bed.

Victoria is bouncing away vigorously, determined not to let the ordeal last longer than necessary, and Vibo, gasping for breath, is not entirely thrilled by the idea of being completely buried under a pile of women.

“No, no,” he says to Dido. “You two enjoy each other. I’d rather watch.”

It’s not the first time Amara and Dido have had this request. They writhe about theatrically, trying not to meet each other’s eye. Vibo doesn’t last long. Taking their cue from Victoria, all three reach a crescendo of screams at the proper moment then drape themselves over the beached bath manager, sighing with fake contentment. Amara is just on the verge of getting a dead arm from lying in the same position for so long when Vibo heaves himself up. “You are,” he says, his sweaty face glistening with pleasure, “the most wonderful girls. Wonderful .”

“Oh, thank you,” Victoria breathes. She takes Vibo’s hand and kisses it as if he were the Emperor. “We adore you.”

“We do, we do!” Dido says, rolling over and gazing at him with delight.

Amara doesn’t trust herself to speak, so lets out what she hopes is a seductive sigh. Victoria slowly helps Vibo into his clothes. They all crowd round the door of the cell to give him lingering kisses goodbye, feigning desolation at his departure. Vibo leaves the brothel in a much better mood than when he came in.

Dido is about to start giggling, but Victoria puts her finger to her lips. “Not yet,” she says. “Wait.”

They sit huddled together on the bed, leaving enough time to be sure that Vibo has really gone. Then Dido whispers in a small voice, “ We adore you !” and the three of them collapse with laughter.

It’s no longer Thraso on the door when they saunter out in their cloaks to see if Vibo left a tip. Gallus greets them with a grin. “I don’t know what you ladies did, but for saying that was supposed to be a free fuck, he just doubled the night’s takings.”

Victoria lets out a whoop of triumph. “And for that,” she says, laying her head on Gallus’s shoulder in an intimate gesture that would make Beronice seethe, “we deserve a little break at The Sparrow.” He hesitates. “Oh, come on!” Victoria punches his arm. “It’s quiet! You’ve got three in. We’ll just stir up some customers and bring them over.”

“Go on then.” Gallus sighs.