The Very Peculiar Odd Timings of Oridon

They Call It The Sweetest Sin, But It's Just A Job

Work was something else. I somehow found it in myself to return the next night, just to know that Anthony wouldn't. I could see what Manaphel was saying. The humans sure did enjoy it though, and apparently I'm worth a fine amount. I felt like I was worthless though. The humans that came that night were rude and demanding. I had to serve them. That was the job.

The night started out fine. I was powdered up with makeup by one of the girls. That was the first time I ever wore makeup. I expected a lot of firsts from that night. The makeup was perhaps the best part from that night. I felt good when I looked in the mirror. I was some kind stunning again, even if it wasn't ethereal. It was in a human way, and it was enough.

Then the damned place opened. The boss stood near me, watching. It wasn't too busy.

"Hey Oliver!" the boss called out to me. I looked over to him. He was motioning me over, so I went. He wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered, "Look, you're a fine boy. I would almost want you for myself."

"Why don't you?" I asked.

He pat my chest twice and chuckled, "You're worth too much as a virgin. Someone else can pay for that pleasure."

"And how much am I worth?"

"That's to be discussed with the buyer. Now get out there and stop acting shy. You're not the shy type."

He then pushed me away. I drifted around. Angels stared. I could care less. None of them would have made the same sacrifice. Still it was like thousands of eyes were upon me. Yet they all turned away the moment some man with slicked back hair and was clothed in fine velvet. He reserved me for the hour.

I was worth three gold coins. Not too bad.

And after I got a nice break.

What was in between, I felt, was the least pleasurable pleasure. Nobody told me how bad it hurt. I figured it was supposed to feel good. After all, why would humans be so obsessed with it. Of course I was a toy to them, so maybe that had something to do with it. Do dolls like being played with?

I suppose after a few weeks it wasn't as bad, but it was never good. I didn't enjoy it by any means, but I made more money than I ever expected and it stopped hurting so much after a week or so. Still, some nights I'd leave bleeding. I'd stumble out in my ripped velvet jacket and head to Anthony's doorstep. I'd slide my tips and paycheck for the night through the letter box.

They all did much better after nights like that.

They all did well for years in fact. With all the extra money they earned they were able to move to a fancier apartment. Linda bought new hats and dresses. Both Anthony and Archie got new bikes. Best of all they had food on the table every night. It was nice to glimpse in the window and see them living like they deserved to.

Things started to change as Anthony got older. He was an adult by the time I took notice of anything. He started praying again, not to God  but to me.   I could hardly even call what he was doing praying. It seemed like he was more so begging for forgiveness. He, yet again, was a love sick fool.

Not soon after his repentance started, he stumbled into the brothel. He looked like a saint amongst sinners.  His large brown eyes shot through the crowd like bullets, and hit me in between the eyes. He then approached me. I wasn’t ready yet. 
“I need to talk to you.”

I looked down at the floor. “You’ll need to pay then.”

He then fished the money from his pocket and placed it in the plan of my hand. I had him follow me back to a room.

“You don’t have to sit on the bed if you don’t want to,” I said as I sat down on top of the duvet, “You never know what you’ll accidentally sit in. I’d be careful where you step too.”