Magic Inks

Chapter One: At the Corner of the Desperation and Despair

It was odd to be nervous. Really, it wasn't like it was Westin Bernard's first time at a brothel. However, he'd been dragged here by his brother, Everette. Technically, this was his first time legally at a brothel as a patron. It was his birthday, twenty-one, and his brother thought since he hadn't had time to get himself laid lately, that he'd take him to the best brothel in town. He allowed himself to be led into the main sitting room and gasped out loud at the beauty of the place.

The brothel was Japanese themed, with great wall hangings and all the employees wore traditional garb, altered to show off their attributes that they were selling of course. A few scantily clad men and women moved about, smiling and chatting with fully clothed patrons. In a way it was surreal to walk around and see these people milling about like there was nothing odd about a man wearing nothing but a lower body wrap and a heels sitting on the lap of a woman with a business suit, or any number of the strange combinations of outfits. The ones walking around were allowed to choose their own partners and got special rates for different things.

"Ev, really, this is too much money for this kind of place," the younger of the pair gaped.

"Nonsense, West. Since when has your big brother taken you out like this? Don't worry, I got a deal, if you are willing to help the owner out a little in return!" his older brother said, flashing a dashing smile and light flickering over his bright blue eyes.

Everette led Westin into a small office where a woman with massive breasts sat at the table smoking a long pipe. "Madame Rosie," the older brother said nodding. "Here is my brother Westin that I told you about."

"Hrm, alright, down to business, your brother here is a regular with a couple of my whores, and we've been having some trouble with them disappearing and showing up at a couple other brothels downtown. We can't prove anything, and we can't get them back ones they're marked for the other brothel. So what I want for you to do is tattoo our mark on all the whores so they can't be taken again. Right now they have a microchip implant, but when they get taken, they're being replaced with new ones. A tattoo is harder to hide and cover-ups are easy to spot with the right equipment. You do this, ya get yer pick for the whole night and anytime you want to come by afterward as our thanks," the woman said, scratching under her breast with one hand while she pulled a smoke off the pipe with the other.

Westin nodded. He was the owner of a small tattoo parlor not too far from here, the best one in all of the area and he specialized in magical inks. "I can do that. I can bring my equipment by tomorrow morning, and start to work. How many are there?"

"How many whores? Oh, about twenty right now. But doesn't matter, Everette here says it's your birthday, twenty-one and legal for the brothels for the first time, so you go have fun. I got a bunch of whores who'll love to play with that lovely red hair of yours," she said leaning back.

Westin really wished she'd stop calling them whores. He knew that was what they were legally called, but he still didn't like it. Twenty years ago, sex work became legal, but only under the Brothel Act, where all sex workers were required to be owned by a brothel until such time as they could buy out their own contract or their contract expired. These contracts were written in magical books that bound someone to them, and if they didn't abide by the contract rules, their life was forfeited. Contracts came about for several reasons, some owed money to the government, some were lawsuits, some were sold by their families into the life, while still others simply enjoyed the life because it was not without benefits. White collar criminals and some felony criminals could choose a shorter sentence if they opted to work at a brothel.

The redhead let himself be lead into the main room where the most expensive "goods" were all displayed. Each man or woman sat on a raised chair or couch in an alcove. Below was a plaque reading the "specialties" if they had any and their name. He saw a variety of names there. There were six alcoves on each side of the room, and he started down the first side.