094 THE GANGSTERS ASKS FOR MONEY
"I'm up for it, but... am I truly capable of pleasing her?" Begoff's bravado wavered as he looked downward at his trousers. "I don't want to disappoint her."
"That's entirely up to you," Mr. Cicada replied, sliding a slip of parchment toward him- his bill. "We can't offer any more assistance on that front, you'll have to be yourself."
Begoff glanced at the chit and frowned. "This is pricier than I expected," he muttered, but he paid the fee without further comment.
"You won't regret it," Mr. Cicada said with a knowing smile. "I assure you, this experience will leave you craving more."
Moments later, Begoff found himself led into Dame Rosa da Amber's private chamber. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and something more intoxicating.
She awaited him, her dark eyes glimmering with a predatory allure.
"Master Begoff," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper. "I've been waiting for you."
He swallowed hard, a mix of anticipation and anxiety churning within him. This was a premium session, and failure would not only mean a wasted fortune but also a permanent ban from the establishment.
He couldn't afford to fail.
"Hold on, I have something that might help," he said, fumbling for his trusted vial of "Red Indian" ointment, known for its supposed vigor-enhancing properties.
But before he could open it, Dame Rosa leaned in, her breath hot against his ear.
"Oh, Master Begoff, no cheating," she cooed, handing him a goblet of crimson wine.
"You won't need that with me," Amber slipped off her veils, revealing a figure that seemed almost otherworldly in its beauty.
With a trembling hand, he downed the wine, feeling its warmth surge through his veins. Her delicate fingers caressed his temples, massaging away his tension, and as her touch worked its magic, he felt his doubts begin to dissolve.
Amber guided him to the bed, undressing him with slow, deliberate movements, her touch sending shivers across his skin. She placed gentle kisses across his chest, working her way upward until his entire body responded, he became harder than he'd felt in ages.
"You were right—I don't need the 'Red Indian,' I am a real man again," Begoff said as their bodies joined.
"Ahhh…Master Begoff, gentle now," Rosa gasped as Begoff thrust into her body with surprising strength and vigor. "Please, give me more. I've never had it this full. Its killing me."
Master Begoff lost himself in his moment of pride, moving with a stamina he hadn't felt in years, the experience turning into one of his most memorable nights ever.
When it was over, he was convinced—this was worth every silver. It was proof of his worth.
"I'll wait for you my cutie pie. Don't let me down, only you can truly satisfy me", Dame Rosa da Amber said to Begoff as she sends him away.
Begoff would definitely be back. It wasn't just because of Lust. His pride and ego demanded it. He could only get this feeling being with Dame Rosa da Amber.
------
"Why don't we just tell our clients they're receiving the Jaguar treatment?" Madam Butterfly asked.
"If you have to push something too hard, it loses its allure," Grangya replied with a knowing smile. "True value is when clients buy without realizing they're being sold to."
Madam Butterfly raised an eyebrow. "That's deep…but I'm not sure I fully get it."
"Think about Master Begoff," Grangya continued. "He comes often, spends a fortune on the experience, and never asks about the Jaguar at all. Yet, it's included in his package without his knowledge, and he's paying far more for it than he would if he requested it directly."
Mr. Cicada understands it better.
"Our clientele for the Jaguar is not the customers but our girls. We make money by helping them make even more money from the customers that is more than a single sale could match," he opined.
"Win-win. The customers come not just for their lust but because of their pride. They wanted to feel great about themselves and being with our girls can give them that which other brothels couldn't, their pride," Grangya explained.
"But why should we lie to them about giving the Jaguar to them, it's not cheap, we should advertise it in the sale?" Madam Butterfly asked.
"Pride. It's all about their fucking pride. If they knew their strength and vigor is not about themselves but due to buying the medicine, they wouldn't enjoy the same pride and they won't keep coming back here to experience it again and again", she explained further.
"You really know how to do business," Madam Butterfly admitted with a touch of admiration.
"Nobody knows more about Pride than me," Grangya replied with an evil grin.
"Madam, a militia has surrounded our Court," a servant hurrying in suddenly and announced.
"Who's attacking us?" Grangya demanded.
"We're not sure, but it looks like they're from the local gang, 'it's Madoug's men," the servant replied.
"Oh, those creeps again. They must have come for protection money," Mr. Cicada said.
"Where's Lilleo?" Grangya asked, her tone sharp.
"He went to the Pharmaceutical Association but hasn't returned," the servant answered.
"Damn," Grangya muttered.
-----
"Who's the new owner of this fucking slut pit?" A gravelly voice echoed across the dimly lit courtyard of Court la Mood.
Grangya stepped forward with her staff to meet the challengers.
"Who the hell are you to barge in here shouting crap?" Her eyes narrowed, trying to identify the intruder.
The man at the entrance stepped into the flickering torchlight, his lips twisting into a sneer.
"You must be a novice," he drawled, his voice thick with menace.
"Don't you fucking know this stupid place owes us? We've kept your sluts safe all this time. Your payment's long overdue."
Grangya's lips curled in disgust.
"These rats are the reason our profits are always short before, leeches," Mr. Cicada muttered bitterly. "They bleed us dry, calling it 'protection.'"
"So," the rat growled, leaning forward, "where's my fucking payment?"