Oasis 8

Outside the bustling desert city were hundreds of poor fallen women who sold their bodies for the next meal. They congregated near the north gate, easily identifiable by their large and small white tents.

No one knew when the first tent went up: indeed some said the tents came before the city. The place had always been a rowdy one, infamous for its purpose. Few weary travelers could resist the temptation to venture inside and entertain themselves for a very reasonable price.

In front of her little tent young Mereth wore a thin white dress and tried to attract customers. She travelled a long way to make a living here after a terrible famine killed most of her family, in a hamlet, on a plain. She was thankful to be alive. Just yesterday she set up her own tent with the nearby kind-hearted sisters' help.

Mereth had nothing left, having eaten the last bit of the food she had begged along the way. She had no time to cry: it was work or starvation. The competition was fiercer than she had imagined. She was pale and had little hips or breasts, and had little inexperience in this trade. But down her narrow shoulder cascaded her smooth raven hair, and her eyes shone a deep warm glow that some might consider attractive, perhaps even fatal.

She patiently bid her time to arrive. Many passed her by only to end up in another woman's embrace around the corner, but she did not give up. Finally, one rough-looking man in ragged clothes stopped, looked at her, vaguely interested. Mereth knew she could afford to be picky.

"Ten coppers and I'll be your woman for a quarter of an hour." She lowered her gaze and made a simple salute.

The man looked irritated by her offer. "No way your poor bony ass is worth that much! You'll get five from me and no more."

Stunned by this vulgar remark, Mereth nonetheless kept her composure. This was how men would speak to her and she'd better get used to it.

You're no longer a peasant's daughter, Mereth. From now on you're a --

Even in her own mind she was not ready to say the vile word, W-H-O-R-E. She just reached eighteen and knew little about the ways of the world, neither good nor evil. After a pause and an involuntary swallowing in the throat, she invited the man in, with a womanly gesture she had been practicing alone for hours.

Once inside Mereth remembered something. "I... I need to see your money before we begin." Grudgingly, the man took them out of his pocket. A few rusty coins, their glisten long lost, but enough to pay for his short escapade. She reached for the money but her thin wrist was caught tight by his iron grip.

"What do you think you're doing, you little shameless whore? You haven't done a thing to earn a single one of these coins, have you?"

"Let go of me!--

With an unforgiving might he pinned her down on her makeshift bed of an old rug and tore apart her clothes. Her unadorned supine body drove him mad. His eyes scanned in erratic motion and ended up fixed on the dark, hairy bush between her legs, fully grown and wild, like a small forest.

"You unshaved country whore..."

Mereth tried to fight back her tears as her patron's big fat fingers fondled into the dense curved hair like snakes. At first she was very tight and he could only slide in a pinky finger, but soon both of his thumbs were fully in, and stretching her open little by little. She would never forget how his rough fingernails felt against her wet insides.

In the stiflingly hot sheepskin tent the two were engaged in a uniform movement. He was in full control while her legs locked around his broad back, all her toes curled tight as she suffered. The weight of the man on her tiny frame was crashing Mereth, but it was nothing compared to the immense discomfort from his penetration. He pulled her head up, pointed her towards where their sweaty crotches pressed together and then separated, where his enormous manhood lodged deep inside her and slowly pulled out. Seeing it happening with her own eyes made Mereth felt dizzy. With each thrust the pleasure was immediately washed out by an agonizing pain.

"Watch it you little bitch, watch what I'm doing to your little cunt!"

Mereth heard herself alternate between moaning and screaming at an increasingly rapid pace that was finally lost to a desperate, terrifying cry of orgasm. Her ugly patron watched contently as her hot pee came out in violent squirts; slowly the water reduced to helpless trickles. The tent was now thick of a vile sour odor. She sobbed quietly as the man stood drooling over her, still hard as stone.

"Now come here and learn to use that pretty little mouth of yours..."

She nodded and struggled to get up. Kneeling between the man's legs, Mereth's glossy hair reached far down her smooth back, swaying slightly as her head moved up and down.

***

As the night fell, Mereth emerged from her tent, exhausted but pleased. The crowd had thinned, and the last customers had already secured their spots and were enjoying their exploits. The desert at night was a cool and dry place. Mereth had to constantly moisten her lips with her warm tongue.

After the first rough-looking man she went on to sleep with six more strangers. She had hid the coins in the sand and used her dogtooth necklace to mark the spot. There would be food come tomorrow. Right now she was dirty and needed a bath. She was told that at the edge of all the white tents was a wooden bathhouse where the women like her could wash for free.

Her bare feet pressed lightly into the fine soft sand as Mereth walked through the tent city. When she passed some of the white tents, she could hear inside the amorous sound of bodies colliding in rapid motion, the friction between skin, tangling of hair, and the locking of lips. A hundred miles away a man might reminisce a night's passion here, by a campfire, in a lonely oasis.

In a short time Mereth arrived at the bathhouse. It was crowded with the fallen ones like her. She was now one of them. She shredded her clothes at the door along with everyone else's and stepped into the dim windowless room, letting the relaxing heat and fragrance take over her senses. The place smelt like a slowly decaying garden of many rare flowers. The floor felt slippery with all of soap foam spilled out from the baskets. She climbed into one and felt the hot water slightly burning her feet. Three other women were already in it. They were all older than her. She could not see their faces clearly.

Mereth felt at ease and at home with all these strangers around. In the disinhibiting dimness they were all helping one another. She touched others' bodies and led herself be touched. Her petite body was soaped many a time and not a spot was left unwashed. Their hands liked to linger over her lush unshaved crotch. She heard light giggles past her ears but was not offended; it was not a tradition to shave that place where she was from. Mereth knew she was being taken care of: slowly her worries and pains of the day gave way to a melting and electrifying climax.