-Author's note: switching to 3rd person-
Alicia awoke determined - she is finished with this whole... entertainment business. Serving drinks to drunkards was not her dream job, and upgrading said job meant stripping for the same drunkards instead of serving them. It meant an increase in her payment, and a decrease in actual working hours, but is this really the future she should be pursuing?
The answer was no. Of course, it "might" have been better to realize this before getting flossed, but what is done is done, she thought. At the bare minimum, she would take the day off, and she did not care whether or not Cecil or Sherry allowed it or not. But first she needed a bath to gather her thoughts.
She heated up the water, then stripped down. Climbing into the tub caused no further problems - she was getting used to this. She let herself soak for a while, idly pulling on the butt-part of her chain, enjoying as it got sucked back in. Maybe things weren't so bad. If she can get used to this, she could work as a mercenary again, getting her daily money and excitement as in the past. Sure, she has to actually work hard again, and it might take a while to get back into shape, but it would be worth it.
With newfound energy, she jumped out of the tub, gasping as she felt the chain pulling on her insides. Moving slower now to avoid hurting herself, she pulled on her favorite thong and leather pants combo. She always wore thongs - fighting in vanilla panties caused awful wedgies, making thongs the much better choice. Feeling frisky, she pulled the straps way above the pants - it might seem trashy, but she felt like bringing a guy or a girl to bed today. She pulled on her scarf-like black top over her breasts - they still covered only a little, but they were decent and stylish. After checking herself in the mirror, she left her room.
No one was present in the main hall, so she just left a letter to inform everyone that she won't be working today. It was better this way - no one to argue with. After that, she left the inn.
Her first destination was Charles's armory. Charles was a good friend of hers - not much of a romantic interest, more like a good comrade. During her few years on this strange land, she and Charles had many successful missions together. A big chunk of the reason Alicia retired from active fighting was because Charles retired as well.
Charles's blacksmith workshop was located fairly close to the inn, catering to humans and lamias alike. The sign was nothing fancy, the man was not known for his taste in aesthetics, but his work (smith and mercenary jobs alike) produced good results. Alicia went in and looked around.
The place was spacious, and filled to the brim with armor for all races and sexes. A particularly fancy looking one caught her eye, so she went there to examine it. It was designed for a lamia wearer in mind, with a humanoid upper body part, while the lower body part looked similar to a metal tube. It was decorated with ornate looking vine motives, twisting and turning into every crevice of the armor.
"Liking my new design? Even though you always said that heavy armor would just slow you down?" The familiar voice behind Alicia was Charles's deep voice. "This one is quite nice. I usually don't fluff it up with any decorations, but there is a market for everything. And figuring out how to make a full plate mail for a lamia was quite a challenge, even for me."
Alicia turned around to meet her old friend. "Hi, Charles." He was a rugged veteran with a stocky, muscular build, black hair and facial hair, and scars all over his face and body. He was in his 50's, but he looked 40 something - he kept himself in shape, the only telltale sign that he was older was a patch of grey hair on his head.
"Hello, Ali... holyshit. Is that chain what I think it is? Did you just got yourself flossed?"
Alicia bowed her head, blushing. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Truth be told, I came for your advice, considering my predicament. Can you spare a few minutes of your time?"
Charles looked around. "Sure. There is not too many customers this time of the day, not that they would take priority over you. Here, have a seat... uhm, you can sit, right?"
Alicia smiled slightly. "I'm not a cripple, Charles. I just... swallowed a few meters of chain, let it come out from my backside, then connected the two ends. At least that's the gist of it." She sat down carefully on the offered chair. "And it has quite a few advantages as well, even though I'm not really using it to its... full potential at the moment."
She waited for him to bring a chair for himself, then continued. "To be blunt, Charles, I'm in a middle of an identity crisis right now. I retired from fighting the same day you did. You did because of age, I did because I got tired of fighting. You know, before my exile, combat was my life. I was brought up to be a warrior. However, after my expulsion, the world around me suddenly became extremely lewd compared to my past. My moral versus my bodily needs, and let me tell you, my body was needy as hell. I had a very hard time coping with all that pent up sexual frustration."
"Understandable," replied Charles. "And all that pent up frustration caused you to do something... drastic like this. And your... not your conservative clothing is also a result of that, I gather?" he winked at her.
Alicia reddened even more. "Good thing you didn't see my work uniform then. That is even skimpier."
Charles grinned widely. "Girl, I have seen you naked even. Don't tell me you forgot our only sexy time together. My male ego would take a big hit..."
"Of course I remember. About a year ago, when we robbed that pyramid, right? Too bad we did not finish. Escaping from a dozen of armed catgirls took priority that time." Alicia continued with a more serious tone. "Anyway, when I became a waitress, I needed a home, a shelter. Unlike you, I did not have any money saved up. It seemed a good solution at the time. I would have a home, and I would have had a decent way to earn money. And I would have the opportunity to cherry-pick any guy I wanted at the bar for a quickie."
Charles nodded. "Yes, I get it. Yet you seem troubled."
"Indeed. I was wrong on multiple fronts. First, being groped all day while on the job is not equal to a hot sensual fucking, if you pardon my language. Second, being ordered around by someone good-for-nothing lamia, while earning barely any money is not my idea of a dream job. Third thing is that I'm bored. Being a waitress is far from exciting. Even though I had to risk my life on a daily basis in the past while adventuring, I just miss the rush, the adrenaline... And the pride after a successful mission. You get me?"
Charles, again, nodded. "Yes, I get those feelings sometimes. However, if you came to recruit me, I have to disappoint you. I am quite content with my current way of life. I was a mercenary for like... 30 years. I really had enough."
"I understand. I did not come to recruit you, however. Well, I would if I could, but I respect your decision. I came for your advice. What would you suggest if I said I wanted to work as a mercenary again? Do you think it's smart? And if yes, where shall I restart?"
This caught Charles off-guard a bit. He thought for a while before answering. "Frankly, I have no idea if you would be able to fight now. You used to be good, really good in the past, you saved my butt a couple of times with your sword. But... I just watched you sit down on that char, and you moved so carefully like you were made from chinaware or something. Fighting is not for the fragile. You should test it out what you can and cannot do now. I can help you with that."
