In Arrears: One

Standing on the very edge of the city, long tendrils of his red hair lifted in the rising breeze to caress his bare cheeks, and the gleaming gold patch that covered his right eye. His ruffled white collar fluttered against the black velvet lapels of his aqua and teal satin robe embroidered with roses in gold thread. The long hem of the open robe brushed against his creased charcoal slacks. Dust from the gravel road whispered across his freshly shined black dress shoes.

Marin Cross turned to view mountainous horizon. The last rays of sunlight bled along the undersides of the distant clouds. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that behind him on the other side of the tall wooden wall, deep shadows filled the narrow alleyways of the labyrinthine entertainment district.

It was almost time.

The deep sonorous bell bonged out from the hilltop temple on the other side of the city. The tones echoed long and loud, once, twice, thrice.

Ah, there… Day was officially over and night had begun. He turned to face the immense gate and the iron studded plank doors that barred it.

The two-storey tall doors rattled, clanked, and opened outward.

Marin strode beyond them without hesitation, his blood surging in anticipation.

In the deeply shadowed alley ways, unpainted wooden shutters were pushed back with a rattle to reveal barred windows with frames and lintels of bright scarlet. Cast-iron gates were opened to allow access to brightly painted doors. Strings of lights suspended over doorways and under eves bloomed to multi-colored life. Tall slender flags were unfurled to proclaim the names of wine shops, bars, restaurants, gambling dens, smoking shops, and all the other various adult establishments. Lights, chimes, music, and honey sweet musky incense filled the alleys, calling out to those who sought pleasure in all its many forms.

They called this the Floating World with denizens as beautiful and ephemeral as butterflies, yet as subtle and poisonous as spiders. It was a world outside of cold reality, a world of dreams -- and nightmares. It was a place in between, where gods and demons walked among the mortals that tread its mysterious and ever-changing pathways.

He grinned. As far as he was concerned, Floating World was where one ended up after a full night of drinking, gambling, smoking, and sex.

Not that he minded.

He was an exorcist, and a general in the Black Order eyeball deep in a secret war that most of humanity wasn’t even aware existed. His days were spent in various battles fighting monsters that no sane man would dare approach, or passed out from exhaustion. His nights however, were spent in the Floating World, the entertainment district found in every city in the world, seeking full-figured company and oblivion.

He loved wine, women, rich and heady tobacco, and gambling, in that order. Unfortunately, Lady Luck was a fickle mistress. She did not often bless him with her presence, and occasionally, he would swear that she’d cursed him. He’d been forced to flee more than once city with heavily-muscled debt collectors dogging his heels.

On the other hand, it didn’t take much to lose the collectors. Few had the speed or stamina to keep up with him. Even fewer had the skill to track his wildly erratic trail through city after city, town after town, and battlefield after battlefield.

Hell, he’d lost his own apprentice more than a few times, even when he hadn’t meant to leave him behind to pay off, or work off his debts.

What luck he did have, was due to Mother Nature. He had been blessed with elegant features, clear aqua eyes, and rich red-gold hair that swept in silky waves down to the middle of his back. His occupation gave him a sleekly muscular build and grace in his movements. It also gave him more than a few nasty scars, but the women never seemed to mind.

By day, he wore the identifying gold trimmed, black velvet uniform of his order, but at night, he dressed in the height of fashion. He even left his half-mask and distinctive hat behind in favor of going bare-headed while sporting a solid gold eye-patch. He had no interest in drawing the attention of his enemies when he was drinking, or worse -- fucking.

However, he refused to go anywhere unarmed. Due to the transformative nature of the mystical Innocence infusing his pistol, a bit of concentration was all it took to cause his formidable weapon to melt and rearrange itself into a thick gold wristband.

Lady luck might only kiss him occasionally, but his appearance guaranteed that he never had any difficulty gaining entrance to the better establishments, or lacked for feminine company of the private or professional persuasion.

In short, he looked like he had money, so it was assumed that he did. He snorted. Only idiots judge a book by its cover.

Luckily, the world had a lot of idiots.

Several lovely girls and more than a few handsome youths waved to him from the doorways of their establishments.

“Hey mister, need a drink…?”

“Hi handsome! Looking for some company…?”

“Come gamble with us here! We guarantee a fair chance!”

Speaking of idiots… He smiled and passed them by. The past month had been a total bitch, physically and mentally, so he was in the mood for some serious relaxation.

According to the keeper of the inn where he’d been staying for the past two days, there was a new high-class brothel in the district. Apparently, in addition to catering to every form of sexual deviation known to man, they offered a bath with professional massage. They also served top-dollar wine with their top-dollar women.

Unfortunately, the innkeeper hadn’t been able to provide directions, or the name of the place. Instead, he’d pulled out a small business card that was blank white except for a deep red peony imprinted upon it. “This is the flower on the flag by the door.” He handed Marin the card and pointed at it. “Find this flower and you’ve found the place.”

After a full hour of strolling through alley after alley, checking flag after flag, he found the flower.

The House of the Peony wasn’t the first courtesan house or more accurately, whore-house he’d seen set up in an old warehouse. However, it definitely wasn’t one he remembered ever seeing before. He was pretty sure that when he’d last visited the city three years ago, that warehouse had been occupied by a less than savory gambling den.

The gambling den, or rather the monstrous debt he’d accrued there, had been the reason he’d avoided returning to the city.

He smiled broadly. The courtesan house was a vast improvement. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” He strode for the brass filigree and cut glass double doors with a bounce in his step.

The man stationed by the doorway wearing a deep blue Chinese tunic embroidered with clouds in silver, stepped into his path and bowed. “May I see your card sir?”

Marin blinked. My card…? He didn’t carry introduction cards. His uniform was more than introduction enough. However, he wasn’t wearing his uniform. On a whim, he offered the card the innkeeper had given him.

The man took the card with the imprinted flower, examined it, and bowed to him. “Thank you, sir.” He turned and opened the door. “Welcome to the House of the Peony.” He didn’t return the card.

Marin nodded and stepped through the doorway, tossing a gold florin to the man in passing. Lady Luck had been kind to him in the last town he’d visited, for once.

Not surprisingly, the man snatched the coin out of the air, but then he closed the door behind Marin and moved ahead of him, stopping him in the decorative wrought-iron entryway with a bow. He reached to his right to grasp a long dangling rope and tugged it three times.

Marin blinked. “Eh…?”

From somewhere deep in the building came the echoing ring of a bell.

The man smiled and brandished the card Marin had given him between two fingers. “You are a special guest. A bath and massage, then entertainment, yes?”

Years of card-playing had perfected his poker-face, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t surprised. Apparently, the card was some kind of coupon. He nodded. “Of course.” He waved his hand. “Lead on.”

The man led him down the long hallway where they passed the open doorway to the main room. Soft laughter, refined music, and sweet musky incense filled the air.

Marin peeked in, and his brows lifted. Paintings on cream silk of mountainous vistas and skeins of decoratively folded jewel-toned satin swathed the distant brick walls, disguising them from view. Delicately carved low tables that were polished to a shine were scattered here and there among an ocean of large silk and damask pillows of every color.

Against the far wall on a raised dais, an entire five piece orchestra played hauntingly sweet music on antique instruments. Two lithe Oriental dancers in sheer robes of scarlet, purple, and violet swayed around their over-sized fans.

The body guards seated against the walls and servants carrying food and drink to the patrons, were neat and well-groomed. All of them, male and female, had their hair drawn back into neat tails that fell past their shoulders, and wore calf-length high-necked, charcoal gray Chinese tunics over white shirts and dark pants.

Seated on the pillows were some of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. They were arrayed like exotic butterflies, in layer after layer of exquisitely fine silk robes held closed with immense sashes that were bow-tied before them. Their long flowing hair of midnight, russet, golden blond, and fiery red were professionally looped and whorled around hair pins of teak, glass, and ebony with dangling jewels that flashed in the low light.

The small handful of male patrons seated among the women were well groomed, well dressed, and appeared to be well-behaved.

“This way, sir.”

Marin left the open doorway and followed the man down the long polished hallway, through a set of double doors, and down yet another hallway that was lined with windows on one side. They overlooked a contained open-air garden complete with tiny pond and a small maple tree.

At the end of the hallway was a pair of frosted glass doors and two pretty, buxom, and barefoot girls dressed in very short white tunics. They bowed. The tails of their long black hair fell over their shoulders and nearly swept the floor. They straightened with bright smiles and spoke in unison. “Your bath is ready sir!”

Marin blinked. The girls were clearly adults, but they were short. The tops of their heads only came up to his chin. Just the way he liked them.

Marin’s guide bowed. “Enjoy, sir.” He turned and strode back up the hallway.

Marin grinned at the girls and held out his arms. “I am at your mercy!”

Giggling, they grabbed onto his elbows and drew him through the doors.

The bathing room beyond the doors was expansive with windows set high on the distant brick walls. Tall wooden privacy partitions painted with blood red peonies separated the four huge round stone tubs sunk into the floor. Only the last one on the left was filled with steaming hot water.

Apparently, he was the only one in the baths.

The girls brought him into the partitioned room and their deft fingers disrobed him to the skin in a less than a minute. Neither one made a single move to remove his golden eye patch, or the thick gold band around his wrist. They folded his clothes neatly and set them on a stool by the entrance with his shoes tucked under it.

He was pushed to sit bare-assed naked on a low wooden stool.

Both girls dipped low buckets into the steaming bath water and returned. Facing him and smiling brightly, they unfastened the ties to their tunics revealing that neither one wore a stitch of clothing underneath.

Marin smiled. Welcome to Heaven…!

Grinning, the two girls launched themselves at him armed with soft brushes, nubby cloths, and lots of soap.

Marin submitted to their ministrations with good grace, allowing them to scrub him from his individual fingers and toes to the full breadth of his chest and back. He even stood when asked.

To his immense pleasure, one knelt before him and began to hand-cleanse his privates, while the other knelt behind him to clean his buttocks. Gentle fingers massaging his cock and balls, while behind him, a slippery set of fingers slid between his butt-cheeks and slid down to brush the back of his balls.

The slow burn of excitement spiraled through him to settle deep and low, bringing his cock to attention. He parted his thighs to give them better access. A soft groan escaped him.

The finger behind him slid up and pressed against the bud of his anus.

Marin stiffened. What the…?

Before him, fingers closed snugly around his cock and began to stroke.

Behind him, the finger against his anus didn’t move, but other fingers closed around his balls and gently squeezed.

Pleasure spiked. Marin gasped, his attention divided.

The girl kneeling before him smiled widely, tightened her grip on his cock, and pumped with enthusiasm.

The urgent filling of his cock forced his attention to the fore. Marin sucked in a gasping breath. It appeared that he was going to be jacked off before he even entered the bath.

Abruptly, a slippery finger slid deep into his ass, twisted, then curled up to press something fiercely, electrically, pleasurable.

He choked in shock, the sheer intensity of the sensation blanking his mind for an entire heartbeat. His cock swelled violently fast, pulsed, and spat out a small amount of cum. “Shit!” His knees wobbled. He grabbed onto the shoulders of the girl in front of him to keep from falling over. He turned to look over his shoulder at the girl behind him. What ever she had done had triggered a small orgasm.

She looked at him with wide eyes, her head tilted slightly to the side, then smiled.

Marin stepped to the side, away from both of them, and put up his hands. “That’s enough cleaning for now!” He grabbed one of the water buckets and upended it over himself to rinse off the last of the soap.

The girls rushed to their feet cooing anxiously.

Marin bolted for the tub and heaved himself over the edge and into the waist-deep steaming water. It wasn’t hot enough to scald, but the heat penetrated deep into his sore thigh and lower back muscles.

His head went light from raw animal pleasure. He stumbled backward to the far side of the tub and the back of his knees knocked against the underwater bench. He collapsed down onto the seat, submerging to his neck. Heat burrowed into the muscles of his belly, back, and chest, scattering his thoughts even further. He groaned deep and long, his head falling back against the rounded edge of the tub.

He blinked to find himself looking up into the upside-down face of one of his smiling attendants. He was still in the tub, but his head was tilted back and resting on her folded knees while her fingers gently washed his hair.

He frowned up at her, slightly confused. He couldn’t remember when she’d begun washing his hair at all. Had he passed out briefly? He shifted his arms under him to push away and found that he didn’t quite have the strength. His muscles were so relaxed, that it was almost too difficult to lift his hand from the water. “Crap…”

A shadow fell over him and deep masculine voice spoke softly. “Are you enjoying your bath, General Cross?”