Solo [The Drunken Fish] Out of Her Depth

[Caela Dorin]

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56th Spring 516AV

The rain was relentless and unending. She didn't appreciate the foul weather, especially when she had to travel through it. Stepping outside the door invited a thorough soaking for anyone willing to take such a risk. For those who had to work of course, there was no real choice in the matter. Caela huddled within her cloak, the material wrapped tightly around her as she hurried through the muddy streets. Today she had a different destination than was typical although the length of the journey was about the same. Rather than heading to the Pig's Foot Tavern for work, she was going to the Drunken Fish. A boy had come bearing a message from her employer in the morning explaining the water damage that had been done to the tavern because of the rain so far. Merv had been kind enough to find her an alternative place to work so she wouldn't miss out on money but she was exceptionally nervous about dancing for the sailors.

The Drunken Fish wasn't unfamiliar to her as she'd been there to coax drinks out of sailors before. She didn't frequent the place though and it wasn't due to some loyalty to her place of employment. The sailors were a rough lot, far rougher than the typical clientele in the Pig's Foot. Some of them had landed in Sunberth after a season or more of being away from land and women and so they tended to be quite libidinous. It made her skin crawl. She knew how bad they could be if she was simply in the establishment, but she could picture them being more handsy if she was dancing there. Merv's guys sometimes failed to protect her from unwanted attention so she was far from optimistic about how well she'd be protected in a place that wasn't truly her territory. She figured that she was being employed at the dockside premises as a favour to Merv until he could deal with the damage done by the rain. If the weather continued like this then he might be out of business for a few days but she didn't think he'd be out of the game for too long. The rain couldn't go on forever and Merv would be quick to repair any damage it caused because he couldn't afford to lose the custom. Caela was reliant upon him as well of course. She had no intention of being stuck working at the Drunken Fish for long.

The dancer squeezed her way in to the dockside tavern, mud-splattered and drenched, the heat a welcome relief after the chill of the downpour outside. She had brought a change of clothes with her of course that she was carrying in her bag. The blonde would be pleased to get out of her wet things, especially as the clinging material was far from comfortable given how tightly it hugged her figure. She hadn't considered how her wet clothing would look to others and so once she was in the door, she took off her cloak and instantly gained far more attention than she would have liked. She hadn't worn any undergarments. She only owned one set and a corset--neither of which she wanted to get wet--and she hadn't considered how detrimental it'd be to wear nothing, as she was discovering now. The rain had passed through her cloak as if it wasn't there and had soaked the front of her blouse. Thankfully she hadn't worn white or it would have been see-through. As it was, there was very little being left to the imagination. The material was skintight, sculpted to the curve of her breasts. The chill or the tightness of the fabric had aggravated her nipples so that they pressed prominently against it.

It took Caela more than a few moments to gather what was happening. She dropped her bag, swept off her cloak and had begun to shake out her hair as the bag was returned to its previous place on her shoulder. It was long enough that she drew attention from some of those near the door and it was only when she found them all gaping at her chest that she looked down and saw with horror what they were staring at so intently. All of the heat rushed to her face and it had nothing to do with being out of the cold. The cloak was bundled up hurriedly and hugged to her chest as she did her best to hurry forward as whistles and crude comments reached her ears. The young woman was no stranger to the sort of things men could say about her body but she heard quite a few new things, none of them pleasant and she had to fight the urge to snap back at them or burst in to tears in front of them. It didn't pay to respond, especially not when she was outnumbered like this. So terribly outnumbered.

There were sailors with scantily clad women draped across them, sitting in their laps or straddling them. Whores. The women who looked her way were just as nasty as the men, more so even as they realised that she wasn't one of them and so was competition and fresh meat. Their comments were derisive, they mocked her for cheap laughs as she fought her way to the bar. It was all immensely cruel but she had to bite her lip hard to stop herself from retaliating and rising trouble for herself. A stinging slap was delivered to her backside and she flinched away, reaching the safety of the bar and edging her way along it as she spoke quickly to explain who she was. Oh gods, how could she work here?

"I'm Caela. I was sent by Merv. I was told I could dance here until things are sorted. Is there a backroom where I can get changed?" she asked desperately, pressing herself against the counter and trying to become one with it so that she was as far away from these horny bastards as possible. The bartender looked her up and down, a lustful sneer twisting his features.

"Dancer, huh?"

"Not like that," she growled through gritted teeth. The man sniggered but he indicated where she could go. Relief rushed through her and she nearly ran to the safety of the back room. As she slipped in through the door, she found that she wasn't alone.

In here, there were all class of women getting ready, some of them that could only be classed as girls. Many of them were in various stages of undress, some completely naked as they applied makeup to their anatomy in ways that Caela wasn't familiar with. It had to be a prostitute thing. Rouge was added to the tips of breasts, powder and perfume placed in unlikely places and there were some manners of beautification that had the dancer flinching. Of course her violent appearance caused something of a stir and the way she looked at the scene before her with a mixture of horror and disgust wasn't making her any friends. The blonde moved forward stiffly as the various cliques insulted her by ignoring her as they talked about her. The young woman bowed her head slightly and sought out a corner for herself where she could dry and prepare without any conflict.
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[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer didn't think that the other women were trying to be malicious towards her, they just didn't know what to make of her. She wasn't one of them and they were willing to be quite open about what they thought, speculating on her as she passed them. Caela knew that she should make some effort to be friendly but with women she was somewhat out of her depth, especially when there was a group of them. She knew where she stood with men, she knew what they wanted and how to get what she wanted from them as well. Women were shaky ground for her. She had always had issue maintaining anything more than an acquaintance with the various women she'd encountered. The only one who she could say had been her friend, or at least was becoming such, was Kechaiya. The Chaktawe woman had vanished rather suddenly however, and Caela hadn't heard anything about her since and didn't expect to do so. She had struck up brief alliances in the past but if she was honest, the female sex made her uncomfortable despite the fact she was a member of it. She could deal with individual girls but she tended to be a bit haughty typically. It wasn't like she wanted to come across that way, she often ended up on edge and it made her a little on the nasty side if not snappy as well.

The blonde moved through the groups of women until she reached the back of the room. She squeezed in to a space beside a redhead who was styling her hair in elaborate braids. She appeared to be more occupied with what she was doing rather than talking to the others, which suited Caela just fine. A woman alone was someone she could deal with or at least she hoped so. How hard could it be to make conversation with this one? It was the difference of her having tits rather than a dick, right? It was a minor thing, she could do this!

"Could I have a bit of space here or do you have to take up all of it?" she murmured coolly, earning a stunned look from the girl beside her and inwardly cursing herself. What was that? She was supposed to be trying friendliness, not biting this one's head off!

You're on edge, admit it. She's a woman, you're a woman, you can drop a wall or two and show you're vulnerable, she told herself. She closed her eyes took a deep breath and when she opened her eyes again, her haughty manner had deflated somewhat.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit... I don't normally work here, you know, and the crowd out there is... rough," she admitted, smiling weakly. "Do you mind giving me a bit more room? I didn't mean to bite your head off, I'm just stressed. I'm Caela by the way."

The other moved over without a word, allowing her the extra space although it seemed the other was going to remain cold towards her. Not that she could blame her given the way the blonde had initially spoken to her. The woman kept giving her sidelong looks but Caela didn't think she'd be doing herself any favours if she opened her mouth again. There would be no gaining ground with her because she'd already blown it with a bad first impression. Well, at least she had the space even if she didn't have some sort of ally in this place. Her cloak was dropped as she stopped using it as a shield and began to unbutton the tight and soaking blouse she wore.

"If ya came in wi' yer tits out like tha' then I'm not surprised it was rough out there," the redhead told her with a sneer. "Not see the weather we're having or do you jus' like 'avin' everythin' on show like a cheap whore?" The blonde bit her lip so she wouldn't say anything too hastily. She guessed she deserved that so she couldn't really blame the lass. Whether she should respond or just let the woman stew in her newfound dislike for her was uncertain. She didn't know what pass might work out best. Being called a whore wasn't something she appreciated but it was designed to hurt and showing her pain would only give her what she wanted. The question was whether to let her have what she wanted or not.

"Maybe some of us can't afford the luxury of having a few sets of underwear to soak for fun," she responded shortly, patting her skin dry as she separated the sticky layer from her damp skin. The young woman pressed her arm against her chest for some semblance of modesty as she went rooting in her bag for her corset.

"Look a' you an' yer fancy way of talkin'. How's tha' going for ye, eh? Make you lots of friends does it, tha' and yer sunshiney mood, Caela?" the redhead mocked as she finished off a braid and worked it in to a more complicated pattern on her head. "You cannae buy underwear but ye can buy tha', aye? A nice, little corset for wha'? Take a sailor two ticks to unlace it so wha's the point?"

"You've got to make the best of what you have, right? That's what the corset's for, making my figure better. And there won't be any unlacing because if they try it. I won't leave them with fingers. Now, you can keep making comments like that or we can call a truce, forget what I said in the first place and you can lace the damn thing for me."

The redhead let out a laugh before she patted the blonde's shoulder. "Do ya know, I almos' like you Caela. I'm Brenna and aye, we can call it a truce. I'll do up tha' gods damned thing for ye. Sure, us women haf to look out fer one another."

Brenna winked at her and shot a half smile her way. She'd finished styling her hair, the elaborate braids and twists creating a beautiful, intricate auburn crown on her head. It seemed an awful lot of effort to go to but Caela could certainly understand the desire to look good. She wondered what the woman did for work here. Judging by her looks and what the place was known for, she would have said sex work but then again, people could make the same assumption about herself. Besides while there were women who whored here, most of them were slaves or in unfortunate circumstances. Not to say that there weren't women here who chose to prostitute themselves here of their own free will but she had to be careful not to make assumptions. Brenna took pride in her appearance judging by her hair and the careful make-up she'd applied. Her lips were rouged with some manner of gloss over them to give them a healthy glimmer, some manner of fat layer perhaps. A light line flicked out and up from the outer corner of her eyelids to give wings to her stunning blue eyes. She seemed to have applied powder to her cheeks but only in places, highlighting her high cheekbones while providing them with a light glow of rouge, and hiding some, although not all, of her freckles. There was a spattering of the fine dots of pigment over the bridge and tip of her nose and a dusting over the curves of her cheeks. At first glance she might be perceived as innocent, like a pretty doll of a child, but she had a wicked glint in her eye, a look of mischief that would surely enthrall men. She knew something of what men liked and she imagined this girl could give them what they wanted. And girl was an accurate term. Looking at her now properly rather than with sidelong looks, she appeared young, younger than the blonde, perhaps in her mid- to late-teens if the tender swell of her breasts and the clarity of her skin was anything to go by. Brenna was a sweet little thing and men could never resist sweet.

How appealing she was to men made no difference to Caela of course, and she wasn't the sort of girl who liked girls so there was nothing in the redhead that she could find appealing. The teen was simply a prospective ally in this place and possibly, with time, perhaps she could even be a friend.
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[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer fiddled with the laces of her corset before she put it on, slipping the loosened garment over her head and clasping the busk to her chest. She adjusted the way the front piece was positioned, ensuring that her breasts would be pushed up and some illusion of a fairly full hourglass figure would be achieved. She turned her back to her new acquaintance, twisting her head so she could look over her shoulder at Brenna. "Lace me up," she ordered in a light sing-song voice. The teen obliged, beginning to pull at and tighten the laces with a well-practiced hand. The blonde let out a gasp as the fabric pulled particularly taut, cinching in around her waist.

"Easy, easy! I need to be able to breathe!" she gasped.

"It's a bleedin' corset! It's supposed to be tight, lass. Just don' pass ou' and it'll be grand," Brenna chimed in cheerfully.

"I need to be able to breathe or I can't dance! If I try to dance with it like this then I will pass out," Caela explained. She heard Brenna give a thoughtful hum but the other complied by loosening the laces a little. The dancer took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, testing the tightness. She indicated that it was still tight, resulting in a further loosening and when it was loose enough that she could breathe somewhat she told the redhead as much. Once she knew how tightly she had to lace the undergarment, Brenna continued lacing up the rest of it. There was silence between them as the lacing carried on, it was only as she came closer to being secured in to it that the girl spoke.

"So ye're here to dance? When ye say dance, does tha'-"

"No, I don't take off my clothes," Caela butted in with a snarl. There was a pause, no doubt one of surprise because of the sharp ferocity in the dancer's voice.

"Yeah, I was thinkin' it'd be real slow if ye were gonna take this off. If I left it lose enough, ye could whip it righ' off but then there wouldn't be much use you wearing it in the firs' place," Brenna responded promptly. "Ye're mighty defensive though about the idea. Got a problem with taking yer clothes off in front o' men or is it ye don't like being seen as the sort of woman who'd do that? Have something against the sor' o' women that do that?"

A chill had entered the redhead's voice. She gave the laces a final jerk and tied them off tightly. Her hands left the blonde's back and as Caela turned to look she found that Brenna had returned to her own preparations. She shot the dancer a cool look.

"Well? You just a stuck-up bitch? Don't like whores an' the like then? Don't like people like me, yeah? Ye're in the 'Berth, ye can stick whatever name ye want on yerself but ye're trash no matter what you do. Ye're as low as any o' the rest of us," Brenna murmured primly.

The blonde laughed in disbelief. "Wow, judgy much? You don't know the first thing about me. I've nothing against whores. I just don't like people making assumptions, all right?"

"Uhuh sure, love, whatever ye say," the redhead responded. She gave the blonde another one of those sidelong looks, one that said she'd made up her mind about her, and stripped off the blouse she was wearing. She slipped down the underwear that covered her bust, freeing the substantial breasts that lay beneath. Caela took a clean dry blouse from her bag and set about buttoning it on to her. The young woman found herself watching the other work with some fascination although she did her best not to stare. Every time she managed to tear her gaze away she found it drifting back as the teen applied make-up to her chest. The process was oddly captivating. Powder, rouge, each expertly applied to make everything look somehow better before things were carefully concealed beneath her underwear again. Not that there was a lot of concealment going on. The amount of the redhead's cleavage on show was extraordinary, not that Caela could really judge. The blonde had left a number of the buttons at the top of her blouse undone, jiggling around the front of the corset so as to boost the appearance of her own cleavage. Beside the petite girl, she felt oddly outstaged.

"My mother was a whore. I saw what it did to her and others like her when I was growing up. I've nothing but respect for women like that. It's men I don't like. They're the ones who do this to us, they're the ones who try to use women and break them," the blonde explained, as she went to work on her lower half, slipping in to her pink flouncy skirt and long, white socks once she'd dried herself off. "I do this because it's the only thing I can do without... without letting them have all of me. I like to dance, but not for them. I still manage to keep myself separate from them, I have to have that much." Silence stretched between them as the dancer fitted on her shoes and set about fixing her hair. She ran a comb through it, working through the locks in damp sections until it fluffed up again and became its typically voluminous, shiny self. It was only as she neared the end of the combing and was almost ready to put on her own make-up that Brenna finally spoke.

"Tha's deep. I'm sorry for judgin' ye like tha'. I get what you mean. Men are bastards, but I don't deal wi' them all the time. I prefer women," Brenna commented, earning a surprised darting glance from Caela. "Aye, I am one of them. Sort of. Knock 'em dead, lass." The teen winked at her before she left to go deal with the rabble outside.

"Good luck!" she called after her before she set about beautifying herself.
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[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer took the greatest of care with her make-up. Unlike those around her, she didn't put make-up in area below her face. The idea of using make-up to paint her body disconcerted her and of course it was pointless considering that no one would see it. Her clothes were going to stay on, something that obviously wasn't the case for many of those in here with her. At least she didn't have to feel self-conscious as she enhanced her features as she wasn't alone.

She had fished out lip pomade, rouge, kohl and face powder as well as a cosmetic brush. She eyed herself in the mirror as she began to dust the powder over her face. It was something she dusted on gradually so as not too make any area too pale. It was a mistake she'd often made and it usually meant that she had to wash her entire face and begin again from scratch. She applied it lightly to her entire face, powdering down under her chin and down her neck so that her skin paled slightly overall and became smoother in appearance. She added a heavier layer under her eyes and along the top of her cheeks bones. The blonde didn't want dark circles under her eyes so the powder would reduce them in appearance and she was going to apply rouge to her cheeks so more powder would ensure that there was greater contrast. For the same sort of contrast, she applied powder carefully around her lips and under her eyebrows. Eyeing herself critically in the mirror, head turning from side to side so she could get a better view, the powder was set aside. A finger was dipped in to the lip pomade and starting in the middle of her top lip she applied it with care, mouth slightly open, following the natural curve until she reached the corner. She repeated the process on the other side, starting from the middle once more and then did the same for her bottom lip. A little extra was added below the natural pink of her lower lip so that it would appear fuller, the young woman doing her best to give herself a more prominent cupid's bow on the top as well because she pressed her lips together and against one another gently.
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