logically.
Practically the same really.
He made the introductions carefully, but honesty enough. Ursala seemed a little shocked that Tor asked her to sit with them, but Sara just smiled and offered the girl a plate, telling her to help herself to the food. Everyone had to eat after all. Sara was good like that. Accepting people of different classes easily. It probably came from being a born merchant. Anyone could be a potential costumer after all, so it made sense to get along with everyone, didn’t it?
Tor largely translated while they ate, letting the others talk. He snagged one of the orange rolls for himself, the icing was still a little gooey and the rolls just warm enough to be perfect. Ursala was surprised when Sorlee told Tor how good they were. That went into the story of what he’d been doing that morning which turned into the tale of how Sorlee came to be at the compound.
“Right,” she started the tale when it started, with her father getting hurt when a tree he’d been cutting down with her brothers fell the wrong way. “So, he was busted up pretty bad, and we had to call the doctor in, which costs a lot. That, plus losing his work and a less than great harvest and we were looking at a pretty lean winter. It snows where we live, up north a long ways. So I left home, which means one less person to feed and that way I could find some work to help pay things off so next winter won’t be so bad for everyone. I tried cleaning at first, but cleaning girls don’t get paid much, so I found the madam and made a deal with her. I couldn’t understand it all, but that I get twenty percent of what I bring in, plus room and board and that I get to keep any tips I get fair and full. It’s a lot more money than I’d make cleaning for sure. Only so far I haven’t been doing so well at it. She’s been nice enough, but then I’ve been avoiding her. Mr. Baker said he’d go and talk to her and let her know what’s going on, so’s I won’t be beaten into it and can start gradual like. Get used to it in a way that won’t leave me too sore to do anything for weeks on end.”
The conversation after that went way differently that Tor had thought it would. Instead of shock and outrage at an innocent young girl having to sell herself like that, which Tor had to admit was kind of what he felt about the whole thing, or alternative suggestions as to how to make money, say telling her to have Tor just give it to her for instance, which was what he’d been expecting, the women gave her tips to make having sex easier.
Ursala in particular.
“Well, now that your hymen is broken, all you probably need is a bit of practice and to use lubrication. Some oil will work, cooking oil if you don’t have anything else though I’m sure that the madam has some just for that, it’s what prostitutes pretty much have to do. Too hard to get turned on for each man after all, no matter how wonderful they are. Just use it before you have a client, really, best to do that before they come into the room even. That will leave them with the illusion that they enthuse you personally which men like. Actually pretty much everyone likes to feel appreciated and desirable… Just rub it right inside yourself. You’ll have to clean up each time, but then I imagine you will anyway. Has anyone discussed how not to get pregnant?”
That conversation, which Tor kind of had to stay for, being the translator, opened his eyes more than a little. Ursala certainly knew how to prevent pregnancy at least. Why she hadn’t, Tor didn’t get, but given everything didn’t ask either. He’d rather live without the information than cause her pain in the memory.
Well, embarrassing or not, the girl needed to know things like that, and if the prostitutes couldn’t help her out because of the language barrier, he’d have to. Even if that did mean risking a stroke from all the blushing he was doing. No one teased him about it at least.
What they did do, which he thought was pretty kind of them, considering that they’d just met Sorlee and all, was go with them to the back of the compound to where the… houses, were set up. It was just late enough in the day that the mistress was awake and they didn’t even have to wait long to see her. She came in, dressed well enough that it looked like she’d planned on guests, but not so well that she didn’t look a little embarrassed when she saw the two women waiting for her.
“Ah! You must be the ladies with Prince Alphonse! Then you would be…” The woman, who looked to be in her mid forties, just slightly plump, enough to accentuate her curves rather than make her look heavy, regarded him baldly for a few seconds.
“Master Tor?” Her voice sounded a little awed for some reason.
“Just Tor, but yeah, that’s me.” He gave her his best polite grin.
The woman curtsied and held it for an awfully long time, so finally he bowed back, not knowing if that was the right move of not, but at least she took it as a sign that she could stand up straight. Sorlee looked at him with a scowl.
“Are you someone important? If I find out you’ve been fooling me all day I’ll…” She waved a fist at him which got everyone else to look at her in shock suddenly.
“Not really, some people think so, but I haven’t been fooling you. I told you who I was and even that I make magical devices. I probably should have spelled everything out for you, but I kind of wanted you to just like me for me, you know? So, really, no hitting.” Tor said this with a chuckle, shying away from the proffered blow with hands raised and a playful smile.
Saying all that meant that he had to explain to the ladies what had been said, which lead to an explanation of why he was working in the kitchen and what Sorlee had said earlier as well as the request from the cook that she stay on as the baker, since they didn’t have anyone else yet. The madam seemed satisfied with that arrangement as long as Sorlee took lessons in the evenings, learning the trade.
Apparently they really did need the extra girl and being so small, Sorlee would be in demand. A lot of men preferred small women for sex, it seemed.
Since the job was mainly one that could be learned by demonstration, Tor wouldn’t need to be around to translate at least, thank god, not for those parts. But Madame Clarissa wanted to make sure that Sorlee understood some of the broader points, such as using her mouth and hands on a man and the names for such acts in standard so that clients could make specific requests of her. That led to descriptions of things that Tor had never even heard of. Wasn’t sex just… sex? He said as much which had everyone but Sorlee laughing at him. She told them to stop rather forcefully, in fairly good standard, which got everyone’s attention.
“It’s, he’s from near where I’m from and people don’t talk about things like this. It’s not funny, just… right, just proper, for a good man where we’re from. His wife would have told him about some of this, if she was interested in doing any of it. Making fun of him for not knowing it is… mean.”
That got their attention and earned Tor some strange looks from all the older women when he finished translating. They probably thought he was incurably retarded. Maybe that was just the truth? He didn’t understand half of what they were talking about. Use your mouth on someone… Did that mean kissing? He asked out loud, knowing he’d sound dumb, but not wanting to be ignorant forever either. Sara grinned and looked away, but Ursala told him they’d talk about it later. This got a knowing look and a nod from the madam.
“And of course… Tor, if you ever want a demonstration of anything, please remember that my girls and myself are here at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. For you we’ll even make house calls… obviously without charge. One of the privileges of ownership.”
Tor had a strong feeling that the woman was trying to needle him about his lack of looks and skill with women. Well, she was right, he didn’t have those things, but that didn’t mean that he deserved to be mocked about it, did he? Maybe it was just her way of being playful? Then again, maybe she was just being honest? Maybe the only women he could ever hope to have were those he hired for the purpose. The idea left him feeling a little sad, but what could he do about it? Tor knew he should just accept himself for what he was and get on with living. It was a hard thought, but the world, the universe, was what it was. It was too big to be concerned with someone like him anyway. That was true no matter who you were at least.
King or baker, the universe didn’t notice.
After that, with him still blushing fiercely he was sure, Ursala, Sara and Tor all walked over to the area that held the people moving cargo container things. They turned out to look a lot different than he’d thought they would. For one thing Tor had pictured boxes the whole time, big, but roughly square. Instead they were all rectangular, but only vaguely, the front rounded and the whole thing enclosed in back, with sturdy doors that folded out so that passengers could load and unload easily from the side. Inside were benches rather than chairs, big enough to hold four large people sitting side by side. The back held ten benches, meaning there was room for forty people, not including the driver. More if they were normal sized like him, fewer if they were royal giants like the King and Count Thomson.
One of them would have held most of the compounds personnel when he’d come up with the idea, but now
