New Courtesan

Prince Vincenzo and his older brother were called to the drawing room by their father. Seated on one of the couches was a girl in her early 20s with dark wavy hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She had her petite brown hands neatly folded in her lap atop a ruffled lavender dress. Around her neck was a simple black choker with a diamond at the front of the type often worn by the women who worked within the palace. Vincenzo eyed her curiously, unsure why their father would set up an introduction to a random extra servant. His brother picked up on the actual intention much faster and perked up.

"As a reward for the two of you completing your studies," King Cirano said, setting a hand on the girl's shoulder, "I have brought in a new courtesan just for you."

"A courtesan," Prince Bellino cooed. He approached the couch as his father stepped away and stopped a foot in front of the girl. He set his hands on his hips as he broke out into a smile.

Vincenzo's stomach squirmed at the word. That was just a nicer way of saying a whore so the royals could feel like they were better than the men who paid street women for a quick go behind a tavern on the weekends. He looked at his father disapprovingly, but if he understood, he didn't show it. He simply smiled and clasped his hands together.

"She'll be exclusive to the two of you, and you can do whatever you like to her," King Cirano said. "She's infertile."

Bellino smirked at the comment and reached out to touch her. She looked him in the eye unflinchingly as he petted her cheek before tilting her chin up to look at her pretty features at a better angle. Her eyes were a pale silver with a hint of blue around the iris. The way he was gazing at her, he was definitely attracted, but Vincenzo did not feel the same. He might boss her around if he got excruciatingly bored but even if he put aside the ethics of it, for the purpose she'd been bought he preferred someone a bit... taller. Firmer. More robust.

"Thanks for the gift," Bellino said, straightening back up. King Cirano smiled wider in the knowledge his gift was well received. "Mind if I play with her first, Vin?"

"You can have her," Vincenzo replied, stretching and going to lounge on the opposite couch.

"You don't like her?"

"Eh. She's pretty, but not my type."

"What's your type, then?" King Cirano asked. "I can buy you a different girl."

Vincenzo shrugged, but his brother leaned over to their father and whispered, "I think he's more into men."

"Oh." King Cirano paused as he processed it, and Vincenzo side-eyed him, but eventually he clapped his hands together. "Well! I don't have to worry so much about an accidental bastard, eh? You want a nice little eunuch, then?"

"By men I mean he likes it up the ass, Dad," Bellino clarified.

The king clicked his tongue. "Not too many intact ones on the market."

Vincenzo sighed and sunk into the couch. He didn't want to be outed like that to his father, regardless of the reaction, nor did he care all that much about having a live-in whore or courtesan or whatever other word they put to it. It was one of those things certain men did that'd never appealed to him.

"I think I'm good, Dad, thanks," he said dismissively.

"Yeah, you've got the stablekeep," his brother joked, earning a side glare from him.

"The stablekeep?" his father exclaimed. His previous passive acceptance quickly shifted to nervousness. "Darling, you really ought to find someone better, someone... Someone who's not... Can you maybe not sleep with someone that low on the social ladder, Vin?"

"You said it didn't matter who I ended up with since I'm not the future king," Vincenzo said haughtily as he shut his eyes and relaxed into the throw pillow.

"Yes, well..."

Bellino patted his father's shoulder. "Saw him get absolutely railed by that shit-shoveler the other week. So rough I can't imagine how he sat through lessons afterwards. True love, that there."

"I don't need your commentary on a casual fling," Vincenzo said pointedly.

"Just maybe don't let people outside the family find out about that, OK?" King Cirano said anxiously. "Not that there's anything wrong with enjoying that sort of thing, I also sometimes partake in a bit of..." He was so lost for words he ended up skipping whatever phrase would fit there. "But the stablekeep is a bit embarrassing for status reasons--"

"Yes, thanks," Vincenzo cut off. "Didn't plan on anyone hearing about it in the first place."

"Right." The king cleared his throat. "I have... things to do, so..." He glanced out the doorway.

"Oh, what's her name?" Bellino asked before he could go.

"Oh, you can call her whatever you want. It's customary to rename them when they get a new owner."

"Oh. Hmm..." He set his hands on his hips and looked at her thoughtfully. "I'll have to think about it. I want something cute but proper, something I can shorten to a nickname."

"I'll leave you to it," King Cirano said, patting him on the back. "Have a good evening you two."

He slipped out of the drawing room and as soon as he was gone, Vincenzo sat up and scoffed loudly at his brother. He turned and smiled.

"You didn't tell me you saw me with Bertran!" he snapped.

"What, am I obligated to let you know that people can, in fact, just walk into the stable and possibly see you going at it?"

"Well you can't just tell Dad!"

"Dad doesn't give a shit."

"Yes he does!"

"Eh, whatever, pretty sure he takes it up the ass from his advisor so ignore his comments," Bellino said dismissively.

"His advisor isn't a manual laborer!"

"I'm fully supportive of your inter-class affair," his brother teased. "Not really my type, but Bertran's got skills, I guess. Strong and all that. Definitely looked like he matched the stallions he cares for."

Vincenzo threw a pillow at Bellino and he burst out laughing when it hit his side. He didn't seem to care about his brother's frustration at all and instead sat down on the couch beside the new whore. His laughter faded and he set his arm on the back behind her. Vincenzo rolled his eyes and laid down again, crossing his arms. He kept the two of them in his peripheral vision.

"So what's your actual name, the one your family gave you?" he asked. She nervously looked away. "Something to go off of for your new name. Or we can keep the old. Not a big deal to me."

"Rosita," she whispered.

"Rosita?" Bellino repeated. She nodded. "Hmm. Rosita. What do you think of that, Vin?"

He couldn't care less what his brother called his ill-gotten toy. "Sounds like a name."

"I think it's cute." Bellino crossed his legs and leaned deeper into the couch. "Do you want me to call you Rosita?"

"It's strange for an owner to call their property by their birth name, your highness," she said softly.

"Rosita. Rose. Rosy. Sounds good to me."

"As you wish, your highness."

"How'd ya get into this business, Rosita?" Bellino asked. She seemed uncomfortable with the question but answered anyway.

"My family is struggling financially. The pay from this ensures they are taken care of."

"Oh. That's a bit dark." Bellino looked over at Vincenzo on the other couch. "Did I just get handed a girl trying to support her starving family? For the sole purpose of fucking her?"

"I don't know what you're expecting out of an auctioned slave," Vincenzo scoffed. "Why would a girl willingly want to go live with the highest bidding pervert? No say in where they end up, could be with someone who wants to hurt them, no freedom, no--"

"No, stop, you're killing my sex drive," Bellino interrupted defensively.

"At least the stablekeep gets to reject me if he's not in the mood," Vincenzo whispered.

He shook his head. "Rosita, darling, I know you're expected to be submissive and all that, but if you ever don't want to have sex..."

"I'm more than happy to serve you whenever you like," she said politely. "I'm excited I get to live somewhere so nice with someone as handsome as you. I look forward to pleasuring you."

Bellino blinked.

"She's trained to say that," Vincenzo commented.

"Shut up?" Bellino retorted.

"Leave your morals on the chair with the rest of your clothes."

"Vin, I swear to god, you're gonna be the one sucking my dick tonight if you don't stop."

Vincenzo stifled a laugh. "I mean, I have been practicing a la Bertran."

Bellino sighed and got up from the couch. "Whatever. I'm going to get a drink. Rosita, you can do what you want; if I end up wanting you, it'll be later tonight, and I'll come to your room. Alright?"

"Yes, your highness," she replied, bowing her head.

"Call me Bellino, not your highness."

"Yes, Bellino."

He smiled. "Wonderful. See you, then."

He waved back to his brother and strode out of the drawing room. Vincenzo watched him go and then settled into the couch with a grunt and closed his eyes. Rosita didn't move.

After a few minutes of silence, Vincenzo said, "You have permission to leave, or talk, or anything. Don't count me as an owner or whatever."

"Alright, your highness."

"My name's Vincenzo. Use that instead."

"Alright, Vincenzo."

They both fell silent. She still didn't make any move to leave. The weirdness of a woman he didn't really know sitting on the opposite couch, doing nothing, made him uncomfortable. Just as he was about to get up to leave, she spoke up.

"Are you really only interested in men?" she asked. He hadn't expected her to immediately go off the 'polite, quiet, submissive' train and ask him a direct question.

"Probably," he answered.

"Have you slept with a woman before?"

"Yes."

"You did not enjoy it?"

"Not really."

She went quiet again. He looked over at her and found she was watching him. She was thin and he wondered how she was raised. The thinness wasn't at an unhealthy point, but he could imagine her thinner easily. He'd seen at least a few girls like her around the rougher edges of the capital, ones who sold their bodies to much less wealthy men, and their frames were always very waifish. Perhaps the dress gave her the illusion of curves and as soon as his brother unwrapped her she'd be in the same state as those pitiful offal.

"Kind of fucked up, isn't it?" he said.

"What is?"

"Your 'job'."

"I enjoy my job, actually."

"Doubtful."

"I enjoy sleeping with men, and seeing them happy makes me happy too. I got into this for financial reasons, but it has, thus far, been comfortable and enjoyable."

"How many owners have you had?"

"Your brother will be my second official owner."

"Why'd you get resold?"

"My first owner grew bored of me."

Vincenzo snorted. "Just a warning--Bellino will probably get bored of you quickly. He runs through girls like a pig with scraps."

"I was under the impression I am the first live-in for him."

"Yeah. I mean in general. He sleeps around constantly; that's presumably why our dad bought you. Trying to get him to stop, set his horniness on one girl he couldn't accidentally get pregnant. The idea that Bellino might knock someone up who's not going to be his wife is anxiety-inducing."

"I see."

Vincenzo got up from the couch and stretched. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm going to go for a walk. Don't get into any trouble."

"Yes, your highness."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Vincenzo, I mean," she quickly corrected. He laughed and headed out of the drawing room.

Weird girl, he thought to himself.

----------

He was drunk. He knew he was drunk. He said his goodbyes to his friends, earning himself a few jokes about his state and the earliness of it, and excused himself from the party. He stumbled off in the direction of his room, only to end up in the drawing room instead. He flopped down on the couch in the dark and closed his eyes, laying his arm over them. He shouldn't have drank that much, but god, he hated those events. There were so many dignitaries there that could see and hear everything that it made him self-conscious, and the alcohol helped, until it went too far.

Whatever. He wasn't obligated to stay anyway. Not like he'd ever be the one in power. Sometimes he felt sorry for his brother, for all the extra responsibilities he had and the posturing he did, but he didn't seem to mind it. At least he said he didn't and he held his composure well. He'd be a good leader someday he figured.

"Vincenzo?" someone said in the darkness, out in the doorway to the drawing room.

"Who?" he asked without moving.

"Rosita."

He grunted.

"Are you OK?" she asked, stepping into the room and quietly shutting the door behind her.

"Yeah, just drunk," he replied.

"Oh. I saw you leave the party early and thought perhaps you were sick."

"Tomorrow morning I will be. But no. Not currently."

He heard Rosita's footsteps and they stopped just in front of the couch. She did that weird thing she sometimes did, where she sat on the floor near him. Silent and waiting like she anticipated instructions.

"Figured you'd be off with my brother, or waiting for him in his room or something," Vincenzo commented.

"He is courting the duchess of Thebes," she replied. "She is a marriage candidate and he said it is likely that he will bed her tonight so I will not be anywhere near."

"He's such a slut," Vincenzo grunted.

"He is good with women," Rosita said.

"I'm sure he is. Fucker's good in bed and everything."

Vincenzo could tell she was staring at him. It was dark in here, with nothing but the moonlight from the window illuminating it. She could presumably make out his movements as he ran his hand over his leg but he didn't care. She was trained not to talk about anything she might see within the court.

"Guess that's where experience got him," Vincenzo whispered, repeatedly rubbing his thigh over his tight pants. "Knows just where to touch and when. The position, the pace, the pressure. Of course the girls want that. Everyone wants that."

His hand moved from his leg to his crotch. He didn't think about what he was saying or what he was doing. He didn't care that he was being weird in front of Rosita. She was quiet, polite, demure. She didn't spill secrets. She wouldn't say anything.

He unbuttoned his pants and clumsily reached in to pull out his penis. He stroked it as it hardened. Rosita sat there, completely silent. He didn't know if he'd shocked her into that silence or if she was being polite. Did it matter?

"Do you want me to help?" she asked softly after a minute. Vincenzo let go of himself.

"Sure," he grunted. He opened his eyes as Rosita stood up. He watched her get on top of him, straddle his legs, and wrap her hand around his penis. The moonlight bathed her cocoa skin blue and he looked her over as she rubbed him. She was skinny and a bit short, with small hands and a small waist. Her wavy hair was left down tonight and it cascaded around her delicate shoulders. She was the type of pretty men usually wanted. Perfect for her job.

He sighed and covered his eyes with his arm again. She slowed down.

"If you don't, it's OK," she said.

"No, keep going. Fuck, you know what, just. All the way."

"All the way?"

"Let me fuck you."

He sat up, and Rosita backed up in surprise. He unbuttoned his vest and threw it on the ground before unbuttoning the shirt underneath too. She quietly tugged off her own shirt and set it down on the floor.

"Here, just." Vincenzo huffed, grabbing her side with one hand and reaching under her skirt with the other. He pulled aside her panties and clumsily ran his fingers over her slit. "In."

"Ah." She lifted her skirt and repositioned how she was sitting, getting his hand off her. She grasped his penis and pushed it inside of her. He moaned softly and pressed his fingers into the fabric bunched at her waist as she started to ride him. After a few strokes, he wrapped an arm around her back and started to thrust up into her. The position was awkward and he sat up straighter to do it more easily. He breathed heavily, pressing his face into her shoulder. She didn't make any sound and stopped moving, letting him have full control. She was surprised at how forceful he ended up being. He pushed her down onto the couch and fucked her harder, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. He locked eyes with her. They were the same color as that boy from the first aid course that he used to touch himself to every night. That felt so long ago now, a memory faded like a photo that'd sat in the sun too long.

He grunted and pushed in deep before stopping. His head swam and his muscles tensed as he ejaculated inside her. She didn't make a sound.

With a sigh, he pulled out and laid beside her, hugging her in the process. He pressed his face into her neck. She didn't move. His stomach felt weird. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the disappointment. She didn't look or smell or feel like he wanted. She didn't make him feel good like he hoped. He didn't know why he even tried.

"Sorry," Vincenzo mumbled after a few minutes.

"What for?" Rosita asked.

"I don't know. Just feels like I should apologize."

She gently ran her fingers over the hand he had wrapped around her chest. "Fuck me however you like. My body is yours to use."

He didn't like the words. The reminder of what she was, why she was here. It made him feel gross. But he didn't voice it. He just fell asleep.