A/N: The next chapter contains scenes that come close to violence. I apologize in advance for that. I tried to portray all the filth of a world where the law is nothing more than a fiction. Read at your own risk.
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As soon as the boy's figure disappeared behind the door, Laurentius turned toward Monica, who was sitting on his sofa. The mask of courtesy and friendliness that nobles usually wore was quickly cast aside.
He had been obsessed with this red-haired woman for a long time, and now he stared at her with a burning gaze.
Monica wore a dark burgundy dress of red velvet that matched her fiery hair perfectly. The dress was cinched at the waist in the finest traditions of the Magic Empire's nobility, emphasizing the smooth curves of her hourglass figure without putting them openly on display.
A wide square neckline exposed her slender neck and the upper swell of her ample breasts, at least a generous fourth cup. One leg peeked out from beneath the hem, revealing smooth, supple skin.
Laurentius could not help swallowing in anticipation. Everything about this woman ignited a primal desire within him.
Her face, touched by a few faint wrinkles, combined gentleness with a kind of maternal warmth. From the moment she had appeared on his doorstep, he had dreamed of seeing lust on that face and hearing her ecstatic moans.
"Monica, oh, Monica. You cannot imagine how desperately I have longed for our next meeting ever since my last visit to Venus's Embrace," he said as he stepped behind her.
His hands settled on her smooth shoulders. "Did you miss me?"
Monica did not look away. From the moment she had decided to bring Grey here, she had known how this would end. She had worked in a brothel for many years and was well acquainted with the tastes of noble clients.
"Thank you for your help, Lord Laurentius," Monica replied in a casual tone, making no attempt to remove his hands. "You haven't visited our establishment in quite some time. We thought you had decided to settle down."
"I know, Monica, I know. But surely you can understand... work. As the only Silver-ranked healer in Thorn's Cloaca, I'm forced to work constantly," he continued, letting his hands wander lower and lower. "I barely have any time for myself."
As he finished speaking, he lowered one hand to his trousers and hastily loosened the tightened cords.
Monica showed no reaction to his actions. She was used to such "games." Clients, visitors, suppliers, every man enjoyed displaying his authority and high morals in the company of prostitutes like her.
Even when they knew perfectly well that their authority had been bought and their morality was highly questionable, she still had to play along.
"I understand completely, Lord Laurentius," Monica replied politely, feeling his rough hands slip beneath her dress and grasp her soft flesh. "I'm extremely grateful that you managed to find time in your busy schedule to fulfill my request."
Meanwhile, Laurentius had already freed himself from the excess fabric. His manhood was now directly in front of Monica's face.
"Then show me how grateful you are," he ordered, pushing himself even closer.
For a brief moment, reluctance and disgust flashed through Monica's eyes. Even so, she knew what she had to do.
Without another word, she closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around him.
Feeling his cock sink into Monica's warm mouth, Laurentius's breathing grew heavier.
Monica was an experienced woman and knew exactly what a man wanted.
Her warm mouth accepted him easily, while her nimble tongue slid along the entire length of his shaft. She sucked eagerly, without restraint. Laurentius felt as though this woman wanted to drain him dry. She clearly seemed hungry for his semen, though in reality she simply wanted to finish this as quickly as possible.
"Yes, that's it, baby. Take all of it," the healer rasped, relentlessly thrusting deeper into her throat.
A moment later, he forgot all about manners and the act of a gallant gentleman that he himself had started. He grabbed her red hair roughly and began driving his hips forward aggressively, fucking Monica's face.
"Look at me!" he ordered. "I want to see how much you enjoy swallowing my cock."
Monica obeyed without hesitation. Whether she wanted to or not didn't matter. Laurentius had done her a favor, and she had to repay him in kind. It was that simple.
If he wanted her to enjoy it, then she would show him just how much she "enjoyed" it.
Without stopping the movement of her head, she looked straight into his eyes, clouded with ecstasy. Her own gaze was slightly hazy. Exactly the way he wanted to see her.
"Yes! Good girl!" Laurentius shouted as he approached orgasm. "I like how hard you're trying today! Is it because you're doing this for your adopted son?"
Monica did not answer. His cock continued to mercilessly thrust into her throat.
He liked the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes when he pushed all the way to the base. He did not care why she was crying. Maybe she was short of breath. Maybe she felt sick. Or perhaps she had simply been deeply moved by his compliment.
His thoughts were far away when he released a stream of semen directly into her mouth.
Monica coughed, but Laurentius did not let her pull away. Her throat felt too good around his cock. That velvety softness, that incomparable warmth and moisture. It was all too pleasurable for him to allow her to retreat.
At last, he relented and let her take a breath. Monica spat onto the floor.
"Thank you for the treat, Mister Laurentius," she said.
Her polite words and the dignified posture with which she spoke them had a truly rejuvenating effect on the healer. Especially when one of her breasts slipped free from her dress as she bowed.
It was a genuinely pleasing sight. Her breast resembled a fine cut of marbled meat, large and supple. The dark bud at its peak only made the image more enticing.
His erection returned immediately, ready for another round.
"Really, Miss Monica, you are far too polite," Laurentius said with another smile, slipping back into his gentlemanly act. "Though I must admit, I would very much like to see just how flexible your back can be."
Monica understood the hint and began loosening her corset, but Laurentius stopped her.
"There's no need, Miss Monica! I would never humiliate such a noble lady by making her undress. Simply make yourself comfortable on the sofa and lift your skirt."
Once again, she obeyed.
Without objection. Without hesitation.
"As you wish, sir."
She climbed onto the sofa on her knees, lifted the hem of her dress, and arched her back, presenting her rounded backside to him, covered only by a white loincloth. Her buttocks were firm and full. The slight cellulite only made the sight more enticing.
Laurentius slapped her roughly and tore away the cloth in a single motion. The sound of ripping fabric echoed through the room.
The healer stared without blinking at her swollen lips. They were pink and smooth, free of hair save for a few thin red strands escaping from the neat patch above.
"Yes, bitch, you're certainly a good mommy," he said hoarsely.
Without any further delay, he pushed himself inside her.
No foreplay. No tender words. Just sex. He could not have cared less that she was as dry as the deserts of Arrakis.
As she accepted him, Monica let out a pained whimper, but she did not ask him to stop. Had the healer seen her face at that moment, he would have noticed the complete absence of emotion.
"Yes, sir, that feels good," she cried out, mechanically playing her role.
She had spoken those words so many times that they sounded natural even if she had been reciting the city laws instead. "Allow this filthy whore to express her gratitude with her body!"
She began moving in rhythm with his thrusts. Her round backside swayed against the healer's shaft. The room filled with the sound of flesh slapping together, mixed with false moans.
The healer drove into her mercilessly from behind.
"Yes, yes, Monica! My cock feels so good inside your pussy. You're such a good whore! Do you like my big tool? Do you like it when I take you hard from behind?!"
"Yes, sir!" Monica shouted just as naturally. "My filthy pussy trembles every time your noble cock enters it. Faster, I want you to fuck me even harder!"
"A lady's wish is law," Laurentius growled, slapping her swaying buttocks roughly.
His movements became broader and rougher, and his words grew increasingly vulgar.
"Come on, bitch! Move that ass. I'm about to finish. Wouldn't you like your son to see his whore of a mother riding a nobleman's cock?"
Monica did not answer. She moaned even louder, yet her face remained disturbingly calm as she endured the healer's relentless thrusts.
At last, she felt warm fluid spill into her womb. Exhausted, the healer leaned back against the sofa, closed his eyes, and savored the brief moment of euphoria.
"Thank God that's over," Monica thought to herself as she stood up and straightened her dress.
"I hope we're even now, Lord Laurentius," she said. "Thank you very much for taking the boy in."
"It's nothing," the healer said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "If he gets hurt again, don't hesitate to bring him to me. Sometimes it's nice to be paid in something other than silver."
Monica frowned slightly at his words, but she managed to maintain a professional and welcoming smile.
"Thank you for your concern," she said, giving a formal bow before leaving through the door.
Grey was already waiting for her outside. He stood with his gaze lowered, his eyes empty. His thoughts were somewhere far away.
"Come on, little mouse. It's time for us to go..."
Monica reached out, intending to ruffle his hair with a familiar gesture. But Grey suddenly recoiled as if he had been burned.
She paid no attention to it. Sometimes the boy allowed her to show affection, sometimes he avoided it. She had long grown used to his changing moods. She did not think she had done anything wrong, so she wasn't worried.
"Maybe he's just embarrassed."
She wanted to talk to him, to ask how he was feeling, but throughout the journey Grey walked in silence, staring gloomily at the ground beneath his feet. Gradually, she realized that something was seriously troubling him and that he seemingly did not want to speak with her.
At last, Monica could no longer endure the atmosphere and stopped in the middle of the street. She grabbed Grey by the cheeks and, ignoring his weak attempts to resist, forced him to look her in the eyes.
"What happened, little mouse? Does your arm still hurt?" Her voice remained just as gentle, as though nothing had happened.
But Grey could no longer bear her caring tone. He shuddered.
"Let go!" he shouted, struggling to break free.
It was not a request. Unable to control himself, he had spoken in the tone of a command. His emotions were in complete turmoil. His thoughts churned chaotically inside his head, moving in every possible direction except the right one.
His state was strange.
Startled, Monica pulled her hand back. Grey had never spoken to her like that before. Her pupils trembled with panic and confusion.
"Little mouse...? Are you angry with me?" she asked in a half-whisper, as if afraid of hearing the answer. "I know I shouldn't have dragged you across the whole city, but you were hurt. I just... I wanted to help."
Her words and the genuine panic on her face affected Grey in completely the wrong way. His entire body twisted. Her caring tone, her smile, all of it seemed disgusting to him. It felt as though everything was grinding his dignity into the dirt.
His pupils throbbed, trying to swallow the irises whole. Logic was thrown out the window. The emotions he had been suppressing until now burst forth in a raging torrent, breaking through the dam of reason. This was the boiling point. He was overflowing with anger and fury.
"You... Who the hell do you think you are?! Some messiah? Some savior?!" he shouted, unable to control himself.
The raging hormones of adolescence rushed to his head, stripping away every trace of restraint. The intellect he had always been so proud of played the cruelest joke imaginable, leading him in entirely the wrong direction.
All of his thoughts converged on one simple conclusion: Monica's actions, which he had never asked for, were humiliating him. They were wounding a pride he had never even realized he possessed.
He wanted to feel pity and compassion.
Instead, all he felt was rage.
"What… What are you talking about, little mouse? What did I do?" Monica asked in panic, unable to understand his mood.
"You slept with that healer to pay for my treatment?" Grey asked directly.
Monica, without hesitation, nodded.
"Lord Laurentius is the most qualified healer in Thorn's Cloaca. He is a long-time client of ours. You were injured and I…"
"You think I need your care?" Grey cut her off furiously. "No. Thank you. You can spread your legs as much as you want but don't do it for me. I am not your damn son. I did not ask for that treatment. You… you are just disgusting to me."
As soon as the last words left his mouth, Grey realized he had gone too far. But it was already said. It could not be taken back.
Monica froze as if struck. Tears burst out of her eyes uncontrollably and her body began to tremble violently. Grey's last words echoed inside her head. She physically felt them tearing her heart apart.
"Little mouse, I… I…" Monica stuttered, unable to form a thought.
Grey looked at the woman, devastated by grief, in complete confusion. But it was too late to say anything else. In his mind there was still the voice of uncontrolled rage, a voice that did not belong to either Senior or Junior. The voice of a demon whose dignity and pride had just been trampled.
Panic took over his mind. He did not know what to do. Logic disappeared. Only one thought remained. Run.
And he ran.
"LITTLE MOUSE!" Monica screamed, but he did not even turn back.