Hard Bargain

CONTENT WARNING: Abduction, abusive rapey talk
Learning is not compulsory... neither is survival. –W. Edwards Deming
The pounding in her head was the first thing she became aware of as consciousness returned. It took a few more moments to realize that her entire body wasn’t throbbing; between her heart beating, its echoes resounding in her head, and the soreness in her methel and manurium, it only seemed that way. More realizations followed, beginning with the reason her arms and legs weren’t working right: they were tied together, holding her in something resembling a fetal position. Her mouth was stuffed with something, probably to keep her quiet.
As her vision cleared, she discovered that what she’d thought was an unpredictably-shifting night sky was actually a coarsely-woven sack over her head, with sunlight slipping through. The platform she was on also shifted, and she suspected that she was in some kind of cart.
Well, at least she was alive. She tried to remember how she’d gotten there, or anything for that matter, but her memory wasn’t working. She knew who she was. She knew she’d been living in Verghesh, on the Sekiune border. She remembered coming home.

#

“Ghurn! We need you in here!”
The bell on the door tinkled again as it closed. Ghurn stuck her head around the doorjamb into the sitting room. “Right now? Or can you give me a moment to clean up a bit first? Melarutho was just teaching me about the prostate, and how I’ve got one too, and how it also produces fluid, and how girls can squirt just like boys can!” On some people, cheeks that chubby would have encroached upon their wide grin, but Ghurn’s face was broad enough that they only made her smile seem even wider.
“Yes, that’s fine, go ahead. Come back here when you’re ready, we’ve got another lesson for you.” When Ghurn’s footfalls had receded, Breft looked back at Sfert. “Are YOU ready?”
Sfert’s mouth twisted and he looked away. “Yeah, I guess. It just seems wrong, you know? I mean, we’re not THAT desperate for money, we can figure somethi—”
“Not yet, but we will be next hura,” Breft cut him off. “And how would you know how the money is anyway? You not being able to keep track of money is how we’ve gotten to this point. Anyway, this offer isn’t likely to come back again, and definitely not anytime soon. More importantly, the money we get from this will help us get started again. Those wobbly-headed dolls were a disaster. At least they burned well. Who would have thought we’d be able to sell them for fuel?” She shook her head and sat up straighter. “Anyway, this is a one-time opportunity, and we’d be idiots not to take advantage of it. With this contact, we might even be able to get back into trading zest. It’s really too bad Patra kept all that such a secret.”
Sfert rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, and now we know better, nobody should ever be the only one to know something. Really, Breft, how did you get to be such a glacier? It’s like you don’t feel anything, for Patra, or for Ghurn, or anyone. You only care about the business. What’s to stop you from selling me out the next time we start running dry?”
“Nothing,” Breft smiled, batting her eyelashes. “So make sure you pull your weight.”
“But you know the Sekiunes will only deal with a man,” Sfert huffed, folding his arms. “You can’t deal with them at all without me.”
“I don’t know about that. I think Theleneth may ask to marry me soon,” Korvt chimed in, speaking for the first time. Really, she would have married him long since, but foreigners had strange ways, and according to his culture, the man had to offer himself to the wife. A woman was not allowed to offer herself in marriage to a man, nor could she demand that the man offer himself. He’d explained the whole thing several times, but it still struck her as bizarre.
“There, you see?” Breft picked it up again. “Once we have another man in the family, we really won’t need you anymore. Although, truly, I wonder if we aren’t better off without you.” Tilting her head to the side, she squinted at him. “Even Korvt is a better negotiator than you are, and the little we end up making by dealing with the Sekiunes doesn’t even come close to offsetting your expenditures and… appetites.” Her mouth twisted up on the last word, and Korvt couldn’t blame her. Nor could she truly take offense at the elbowed compliment. Although it seemed to come naturally to Breft, Korvt knew she had no great skill at haggling, and Sfert had never even tried to develop it.
Patra had always been overly indulgent of Sfert, as the eldest, and the only son. There had been several times Patra had had to buy Sfert out of trouble with the local guards, other traders, and even the Sekiunes. Then there was the smokefeather addiction. And while there were always people around willing to have sex, there were some things that people would only do if you paid them. Usually a lot.
Not that it was apparent from looking at Sfert. He was handsome, bordering on beautiful, and extraordinarily charismatic. Even Korvt was still not completely immune to his allure, although Breft seemed never to be susceptible to anything. The smokefeathers had left him thin to the point of being frail, and he had clearly never been forced to dirty his hands with any kind of physical labor. Overall, he presented all the indications of being the idle son of a wealthy merchant – which was true once, although not anymore, largely due to his own efforts to deplete the wealth Patra had amassed.
“The more I think about it, it does seem like selling you really would solve several problems. I’ll start looking for a buyer tomorrow.” The smile returned to Breft’s mouth, but not her eyes. “Of course, it may be a while before I can find anyone willing to buy you, even at a pathetically low price, so you’re probably safe for a while. You’re good with languages, you’d probably be most useful as a translator. You’re clearly not good for anything else.”
Sfert was saved the trouble of coming up with a suitably biting reply by Ghurn’s returning footsteps. Instead he flowed to his feet and swept from the room, forcing Ghurn to lurch and stumble in the doorway. Not nearly as lithe or nimble as Sfert, Ghurn plowed into him anyway, her hands grasping his shoulders and her breasts flattening against his chest.
Graciously helping her regain her balance, Sfert made his excuses and moved past her, one hand trailing across Ghurn’s waist and down to her broad bottom as he left. A sympathetic smile stole across Korvt’s face as Ghurn’s spine jerked and straightened, even as her hips twitched toward his departing hand, hoping to maintain contact a heartbeat longer. Ghurn’s heaving chest was topped by twin pebbles that protruded clearly against the thin material of her shirt.
Drawing a deep breath and turning back to the sitting room, Ghurn tried to compose herself. Slowly and deliberately, she entered and took the seat Sfert had just vacated. Slowly, the flush receded from her face and neck. Yes, Svert did tend to have that effect on women, and often men too.
Looking around the room, the division between them was apparent. All three siblings shared Matra’s pale skin and green eyes, and Patra’s slender frame. Ghurn wasn’t fat, really, just large around the breasts and hips, and Korvt was somewhat jealous of the attention her extra flesh won her. Her long, straight black hair stood in contrast to a slightly yellowish tinge to her skin, typical of people from the western islands.
Theleneth was actually more similar to Ghurn, although from a different set of islands, far to the south. Large and solidly built, with the dark skin and dense mat of black curls atop his head, typical of his people. He had spent much of his early life traveling the sea on ships, and had picked up a smattering of many languages. Once they married, his connections could open other trading options for them as well; Verghesh drew all types from all over Canera. He wasn’t family yet, but he would be soon.
Ghurn, however, was little more than a paying tenant. It wasn’t even her that was paying, it was her father. Sure, he’d been some kind of associate of Patra’s, but who was this guy really?
Two years ago when they’d gotten the diaesthetic message directed to Patra and asking about taking on a boarder and being responsible for her education, they hadn’t known what to make of it. Whoever the guy was, he obviously wasn’t close to Patra, or he would have known that Patra had died over three years earlier. It was a touch of luck that someone on duty at the diaesthetic office had been around long enough to know who Merksh Gariobla had been, and was willing to deliver the message to his daughters anyway.
The line about paying her expenses, however, had caught their attention. They’d been struggling to meet their own expenses, and had been eager for any opportunity for additional income. Even Matra had been excited about it, but she really just enjoyed kids – even adolescents – and the idea of taking in a helpless waif had appealed to her.
That thought depressed Korvt. Living in a merchant town had brought her Theleneth, but it had also brought the disease that had killed Patra and her youngest sister, and had left Matra with the wits of a nine-year-old. The healers had done what they could, but were simply overwhelmed, and no amount of money could buy better care or attention. They’d tried.
Sfert hadn’t even known Patra was dead for two days, because he couldn’t be found. He was no use at all in continuing the family business. Korvt had been old enough and involved enough in her father’s occupation to be able to pick up most of the pieces and continue on. Being young had hurt her, however, and she’d been taken advantage of many times in the early days, before she figured it out. People could tell, and too often she had ended up paying more and selling for less.
It wasn’t until Breft had tagged along on one deal that things had turned around. Breft had only thirteen years at the time, and Korvt had fully expected her presence to further cut into their credibility and profit, but Breft had turned out to be a shrewder negotiator and business manager than Korvt would ever be. Even so, they’d lost many of Patra’s contacts, and the money didn’t flow the way it used to. They’d had to move to a smaller house in a less affluent neighborhood, the occasional bad deal kept them perpetually on the edge, and Matra was never really in good health anymore either.
As it turned out, they’d undersold themselves regarding Ghurn too. Three times over the past two years, they’d diaessed back to her father asking for an increase in what he paid them per hura. He’d done it each time, but the last was only three howra ago, and they were loath to push too far.
“So what do you have to teach me?” Ghurn bubbled, jerking Korvt out of her thoughts. “Two lessons in one day? I must have done something good to deserve this!”
“We’ve got a sample of something we’re thinking about buying a load of,” Breft began, in her characteristically understated and straightforward manner. “The problem is that we’ve been told people’s reactions to it vary. We’ve all tried it, and it was remarkably good, but we figured since we have a Wheezy to try it on too, we should, just to make sure.”
“That’s Uizi,” Ghurn mock-glared, sticking out her tongue. “It was good for all of you?”
That was Korvt’s cue, as the gushy one of the group. “Oh, yes, it’s wonderful! Warm tingles, all over, just amazing!”
“Well, let’s do it then.” Ghurn sat forward on the couch and looked around. “What is it, how do I try it?”
“Supposedly you get the best results from vaginal insertion,” Korvt smiled, picking up a small jar from the table next to her.
“Oh, even better!” Ghurn leapt to her feet and untied the cord at the waistband of her skirt, shimmying to help it slide down past her hips. With a kick, the skirt landed in a pile in the middle of the floor and Ghurn landed back in the chair, one leg thrown over an armrest. Korvt slid to the floor and crawled across to kneel in front of Ghurn, who already had one hand between her legs, lips spread and a fingertip tracing circles around the nub of her clitoris.
When Ghurn had first arrived here, her pubic hair was thick and wild, although the patch itself was relatively small. The local fashion was a close trim, however, which she soon adopted as well,
The various folds were still glistening with moisture from Ghurn’s previous lesson, her musk wafting off of her. Korvt removed the lid from the jar and dipped a finger in. An iridescent blob clung to her finger, and she raised it to show Ghurn. The cream was cold to the touch, but warmed quickly against her finger. Ghurn stopped rubbing and used both hands to open her methel as much as possible as the finger approached.
At the first contact, Ghurn’s back arched with a sharp intake of breath, her eyes and mouth opening wide. Korvt paused, concerned. “Good?”
The next few heartbeats seemed to take forever, until she relaxed with a shudder. “Yeah, good, just cold. Warming quickly, though. You said you just got tingles out of it? I’m getting a lot more than that already!”
Well, that was interesting. None of them had tried it, and didn’t really know what to expect. All they’d been told was that it was a warm-fuzzy kind of feeling. Maybe it would be worth trying later.
The finger slid downward, plowing most of the mass of goop toward Ghurn’s opening, and Korvt could feel the muscles clenching beneath her touch. A shimmering trail was left behind, which actually seemed to sparkle and shift colors.
With a twist of the wrist, Korvt swept the bead inside. Spasming muscles instantly clamped her finger in place, and a strangled groan escaped from Ghurn’s other end. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, her hands fluttering against the chair. With a reaction like that, Korvt thought, she might have to try this stuff herself later.
And then all at once, Ghurn went limp. Or maybe not, Korvt thought. Well, possibly. It would depend on how long Ghurn was out for. It could be a very nice way to get to sleep.
“Good, she’s out.” Breft broke into her thoughts, and stood. “I’ll go let them know.”
Korvt rubbed her finger against Ghurn’s curtains, trying to remove as much of the cream as possible, then wiped her hands on the puddle of skirt. Standing, she began at a mumble, that quickly turned into a wail. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this to her. She’s nice, and good, and trusting, and never did anything to hurt us.”
“I like her too,” Breft sighed, moving toward the door. “But she’s not one of us. Would you rather I sell Sfert instead?”
“No… Yes! Maybe. I don’t know!” Emotions raged in Korvt, love and disgust and fairness all warring with each other. She hung her head and sulked, for lack of anything better to do. “Would you really sell Sfert?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. Unfortunately he IS one of us. Also unfortunately, Patra’s fortune is gone, and we can’t afford to let HER be fortunate.”
“Do you know who it is that wants her? What they’ll do with her?”
“I don’t, and it’s probably better that way,” Breft paused and shook her head in the doorway. “I just hope she doesn’t end up with the Sekiunes. They wouldn’t have sex with her, forcibly. She might never get it again, there.”
The almost wistful tone surprised Korvt. As far as she knew, Breft had never even shown interest in anyone, let alone gotten sexy with them, which was why it had fallen to Korvt to use the cream on Ghurn. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise her if Breft had never had an orgasm at all. In a meek voice, such that you would think she was the younger sister, she said, “You don’t think they really cut off their clitoris, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” Breft shook her head again. “It always sounded like that was only up on the plateau, deep in the desert, and even then, I got the impression that it was an archaic practice that nobody really did anymore.”
The guys who returned with Breft to collect Ghurn were creepy. They were both large, with the younger one distinctly larger than the elder, both in height and width. The younger one hadn’t yet acquired the calm self-assurance and restraint that his more businesslike partner had, gawking at the house as they were led through to Ghurn’s unconscious body, still sprawled on the couch.
The older one had an economy of movement that called to mind a stalking gerlach, although his eyes never stopped moving. He stopped in the doorway of the sitting room, scanning it. His companion darted directly over to where Ghurn lay and pulled her shirt up to reveal a large, fleshy breast.
“Wow, she’s nice and soft. She’ll be able to take a lot of pounding.” The younger man smacked a teat, watching the flesh quiver as the waves of force rippled back and forth across it. He did it again, grinning, then stuck a finger between her legs. When he drew it back a moment later, it was dripping with her fluids. “She’s nice and wet already too. I want a piece of her now.”
As he started to raise the hem of the light robe he wore, the smaller man stopped him with a word. “No. You can wait until we get back to the warehouse.” The musical lilt in his voice belied the strictly businesslike words. He clearly wouldn’t be distracted from his assigned task, although Korvt saw his eyes wander as he pressed Ghurn’s limp legs together.
“But she’ll be all dried up by then,” the larger man whined.
“Then we better hurry, neh? Grab her shoulders.”
“That’s not what I want to be grabbing,” he grumbled under his breath, squatting and looping his arms under Ghurn’s armpits.
“Tough rocks. And all it’ll take is one word to the boss from me and you won’t get to touch her again at all. So line up, neh?”
Korvt wanted to ask them to at least wait until she woke up, so she could enjoy it, but couldn’t bring herself to speak. It was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears, and just the thought of saying anything made her throat spasm. She buried her face in the arm of the couch and listened to the receding footsteps.
Some time later, Breft’s soft padding returned, and she felt her sister’s weight settle on the other end of the couch. Heaving a deep breath, she asked without looking up, “What are you going to tell Aula? Or whatever his name is. Her father.”
“Ao'ulua. Too many vowels. It sounds like a sholo screeching.”
Glad to have something to turn her overflowing emotions on, Korvt let loose. “As if our Sekiune names don’t sound like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. I understand that so many other people around here end up with names like that to try to make it easier to trade with those savages, but that only makes the rest of us sound savage too.”
“I know,” Breft whispered, touching her hand. “And I don’t know what I’m going to tell him. I wonder how long we can keep taking his money without him finding out.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Korvt jerked her hand away and the tears began.

#

Ghurn swam back up to consciousness, but her situation hadn't changed much. Still tied, and still in the cart, but dimmer and redder light implied evening. How long had she been there? Where were they taking her? Well, she would find out eventually, and there didn't seem to be much she could do about it until then.

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Links:
Verghesh
Sekiune
Sekiune Desert

Ghurn
Zest
Subsequent to Coming of Age