Riley sat at the same tavern she had been kicked out of all those years ago. She nodded a hello to the bartender, who always gave her looks but never again asked her gender. She was a legal customer now, and any money was good money.
Dressed in trousers, a white shirt, a patterned vest, and a decently large hat, she passed for a suave gentleman easily. Many women gave her approving looks as they walked by, but Riley only smiled and nodded politely to them; unless they knew her secret, she wasn't willing to form any acquaintances just yet.
"Hello, Riley," a sultry voice said nearby.
Riley turned to find a curvy redhead winking at her. "Miss Victoria! I didn't see you there. My apologies. Won't you have a seat?"
There was more to "Miss" Victoria than just her curves, Riley knew, but not everyone believed that. Victoria grew up in a nearby brothel where she had been sold by her parents. She had learned her trade very well, and was one of the most sought-after prizes there. When she was rescued and brought to work at this tavern, she didn't know how to interact with the men, other than to flirt. This brought in money, to be sure -- but Riley knew she still wasn't happy, least of all with herself.
"I'm still on the job, I'm afraid," Victoria said. "However, I'm off in an hour. Won't you join me then?"
"It would be my pleasure," Riley responded, tipping her hat.
"See you soon, then," Victoria purred, grinning over her shoulder.
Riley laughed to herself. She had come a far way from being an androgynous brat on the streets. She never outright told Victoria that she was the one who brought the whore's freedom, but Riley was sure she knew, from the generous way Victoria had always treated her.
No, Riley didn't make acquaintances with the ladies. But Victoria was more than just some mere acquaintance. She wasn't Riley's first, and most likely wouldn't be her last. But she took care of Riley, and Riley took care of her. It was a mutual passion, the only way they could truly communicate their desires: Victoria's desire to be more than just a common whore came through with the soft kisses and nuzzles she offered only to Riley. Riley's desire to be loved by a woman showed in her attention to every need. Together, they survived. Together, they were healed.
"I cannot wait, my dear," Riley whispered in Victoria's direction. She lifted her drink in salute, downed the mead, and closed her eyes. It was going to be a good night indeed.
Dressed in trousers, a white shirt, a patterned vest, and a decently large hat, she passed for a suave gentleman easily. Many women gave her approving looks as they walked by, but Riley only smiled and nodded politely to them; unless they knew her secret, she wasn't willing to form any acquaintances just yet.
"Hello, Riley," a sultry voice said nearby.
Riley turned to find a curvy redhead winking at her. "Miss Victoria! I didn't see you there. My apologies. Won't you have a seat?"
There was more to "Miss" Victoria than just her curves, Riley knew, but not everyone believed that. Victoria grew up in a nearby brothel where she had been sold by her parents. She had learned her trade very well, and was one of the most sought-after prizes there. When she was rescued and brought to work at this tavern, she didn't know how to interact with the men, other than to flirt. This brought in money, to be sure -- but Riley knew she still wasn't happy, least of all with herself.
"I'm still on the job, I'm afraid," Victoria said. "However, I'm off in an hour. Won't you join me then?"
"It would be my pleasure," Riley responded, tipping her hat.
"See you soon, then," Victoria purred, grinning over her shoulder.
Riley laughed to herself. She had come a far way from being an androgynous brat on the streets. She never outright told Victoria that she was the one who brought the whore's freedom, but Riley was sure she knew, from the generous way Victoria had always treated her.
No, Riley didn't make acquaintances with the ladies. But Victoria was more than just some mere acquaintance. She wasn't Riley's first, and most likely wouldn't be her last. But she took care of Riley, and Riley took care of her. It was a mutual passion, the only way they could truly communicate their desires: Victoria's desire to be more than just a common whore came through with the soft kisses and nuzzles she offered only to Riley. Riley's desire to be loved by a woman showed in her attention to every need. Together, they survived. Together, they were healed.
"I cannot wait, my dear," Riley whispered in Victoria's direction. She lifted her drink in salute, downed the mead, and closed her eyes. It was going to be a good night indeed.
