Redeming pleasures

Pr010gue

            The night had always been a fascinating thing to Rashida, her mother often told her that though other people feared the night and all its secrets she has no reasons to be, it was to be her refuge, that just like her the night, beautiful and enchanting, held many unspoken secrets and conundrums its beauty attracting and consuming all light and goodness in it's wake. Impeccable in its ability to decieve and hide all truths. She was only a decade into her life at the time her mother had hinted at such a thing. She laughed at herself, at how confused she'd been because if she'd only know then what the damned woman spoke of perhaps she wouldn't be looking down at everyone else cursed to watch and envy what she herself could never have for all eternity.

Pathetic.

But then again her mother was undoubtedly crazy.

"Rashida, get down here we have  customers to attend to. Madame brought a fine young man this evening and he's specifically requested you. Can you imagine?. Oh, if i was just as invested as you in this i would have saved up enough to get my ass out of this accused hell" 

"What fresh humiliation does this night bring?" She smiled down at the embodiment of naivety coming up to the roof where she sat. If only she was as invested as she was, she said. Rashida couldn't think of anything she was less intevested in than in the success of the brothel but she supposed it came naturally to her, being a whore. After all like mother like daughter but unlike her mother she had no intentions of spending the rest of her miserable life here. She wanted out, always had. She had resigned herself to this faith for long enough.
     But as she'd come to learn 9 years ago, things were easier said than done, 9 years when madame had brought a particular customer for her to entertain. He'd been a trades man tall as the day was long she remembered thinking, Jamaican, his dark complexion reminded her of the empty void shed always feel within herself, he'd come with many stories of places he'd visited across and beyond the seas, of waterfalls and rivers of fire and different creatures in lands as far as the eyes could see, sand mountains ultimately making her realize how small she was and how she'd never left the walls of the brothel. He was a nice man at least he seemed like one at the time he was drunk and bragging, she was shamed to admit but she had even trusted him, trusted that he would see her as she was, take pity on her.

But as her mother had always told her, to trust a man is to trust water in a sieve

She was naive, a fool to think that she would ever be anything more than just a body, a body for men to use and take advantage of. She had only been twelve at the time but that didn't stop him though, it never stopped any of them. Coming out of her thoughts she stared at the youngest in the brothel, a thirteen year old girl still obsessed with the idea of dreams and fantasies. A few more years here would teach her otherwise.

  "At least tell me he's a little bit handsome. Heaven knows i can't spend another hour with a scrounge likeness"

"I think you'd be quite taken with him" she didn't mean it, her face trying to conceal laughter, her cheeks puffed up in the way little children often did, gave her away quite easily. What kind of a world would this little girl grow up in, a world where she could easily make jokes about such inappropriate things.......but never mind that, she had work to do. She got up from the dusty roof, patted her skirts and started down the ladder to the attic.
She made her way through multiple corridors, vulgar words and sounds of pleasure dragging and bouncing against  the walls. A lot like music if you'd stayed here long enough, the sounds of the velvet room and the obsidian room on both sides of the corridor mershing together and creating a symphony of sorts, an erotic crescendo of pleasures and desire. From the "ladies of loose skirts", faked, but essential.

She came up to the front of the emerald room, took a deep breath and opened the door. Stepping in the smell of cigarettes and the unmistakable smell of whiskey was the first thing she noticed, it wasnt odd, but it always irritated her. She saw him soon after , he was handsome oddly so. He seemed to have aged well. Her eyes were heavy and she rested her head against the door frame taking him in.

"What's your name?" His eyes sparkled as they took her in from head to toe, his eyes shamelessly resting on her breast's a lot longer than was proper, she thought she had never seen a face so cold and expressionless but she supposed that didn't matter, he'd as well.

"You can call me whatever you like....does it really matter?"

"What is your name?"

"Rashida"

"Rashida" he said her name with a slur, his voice was deep and not surprisingly cultured, testing the name on his tongue  he repeated it once or twice more before gesturing to the couch beside the medium sized bed beside the window. She approached it skeptically but sat down nonetheless. She then proceeded to untying the ropes at the front of her lace gown. She couldn't explain why, perhaps today was to be special, or perhaps it was just the incredibly hopefully personality that she had informed from only God knows where, but today she had felt as if something was going to change. The feeling promoting her to put on her finest lace gown it was a seashell coloured off the shoulder garment, made from mulberry silk. The most expensive she had ever aquired from an adoring customer. The most expensive she had ever owned.

"Stop" Her fingers stopped mid-unlace.

"What?"

"I have no interest in what you have under your clothing. Now, talk with me."
         Was this some kind of joke?. She studied him through narrow eyes and then yanked the top of her dress closed and tied the ribbons at the front closed angrily. What a grand way to waste her time.

"You came to the wrong girl. If you want conversation, go the bar"

She made her way to the door with every intent of leaving.

"Oh come on my dear, surely you're not so cruel as time leave an old man such as myself all on my own....you're a feisty Arabian one aren't you?. Sit down sit down, i only wish to engage in a little sentiment before my oh so 'unfortunately passing' "

"I really don't have time for this, you're wasting my time and i have other customers to attend to. So if you'll excuse me....." She made a move again to excuse herself when he stopped her yet again.

"But would you really rather attend to your 'other customers' than sit here with a dying old man who expects nothing from you really than to talk....and still pay you.
           The old bastard, he had her there though, she would much rather sit here and listen to whatever nonsense he had to say if she would still get paid for it. But how could she be sure that was all he actually wanted? What if along the line he decided he wanted something else? She preferred knowing she is to be used from the beginning than to be lured into a false sense of security. It was an unusual wager for her one she would never take on a normal but hadn't she had the feeling that something different would happen today?. That feeling once again promoted her to give against her instinct.
She took a deep breathe, closed tjw door anf walked quietly back to the seat by the window and sat down knowing full well that she would definitely regret this.