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Wet Cherry of Truth	By : uztre Category: +S through Z > Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Views: 96295 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own or claim ownership of or make any profit of any of the characters or other elements of The Witcher 3 contained within the story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Summary:
Triss is officially a whore now, working already for seven days and serving the brothel's patrons the best way she can. According to the deal with the establishment's whoremistress, Cinia, the redhead has to keep being a hooker and making money while she, in return, looks out for her friends to locate them and, if possible, to rescue them. Fortunately, Triss already likes and has gotten accustomed to her new profession very greatly so there is no problem at all.
Tags: F/M, pussy-licking, blowjob
Notes:
- Spell-checked on June 14, 2018
"You're doing good, Triss. Keep sucking my dick. Make daddy happy, little girl," the sweaty patron muttered and savored the red-haired sorceress' aroused gaze coming up from between his legs. She was on her knees. Her beautiful red hair was hanging over her shoulders, swinging with each bounce of her head. With her plush lips sealed around the thick girth of the witch hunter's dick, Triss Merigold was giving the blowjob of her lifetime. One hand was clutching the base and the other the heavy meat, side by side, while they both were frantically rubbing in opposite direction of rotation. To keep up the pressure, her tongue flipped and stimulated the bottom first, then slid over the cock's entire bulbous head before brutally smacking her head forward, impaling her tiny throat on him.

During this time, Triss always kept eye contact, never batted her eyelashes even once. It was vital to the success she was sure, crucial so the suitor could finally reach his most desired and pleasurable climax. In the beginning, the redhead didn't know why. She was totally clueless but after having her chance with sixty, horny men within last seven days, it became clear what they all were seeking for; her complete, sincere submission. They wanted to see her, Triss Merigold of Maribor and former advisor of Kind Foltest, crawl into their lap, beg them for mercy and amends, moan in never-ending heat, shed bitter tears when they penetrated her sore ass, and most importantly surrender herself as the treacherous sorceress King Radovid made everyone believe and submit to the fate of being a simple, ordinary whore in Novigrad - one of so many these dark days. The grudge the soldiers and hunters were bearing against her in person didn't surprise Triss at all, but the anger and hate mixed with sexual frustration gave her a damn scare.

Every man, every trick, and patron she had met so far fucked her like he would actually hate her. They have been clearly seeking revenge, a way to make her pay for what all people on the continent were falsely blaming her for. For instance, Triss had constantly been the pray of men who tugged at her hair, smacked and spat on her face, pinched her nipples, and spanked her bubble butt till it was gleaming in reddish pain. At first, she couldn't handle it, cried and begged the men to cease from these treatments. There were clear rules against abuse and punishment, but every time when it came to the simple question of money or no money, Triss, in turn, ceased from her demand and gave the whoremongers a carte blanche to plow her the roughest way she would have never dreamed of. After all, Triss needed every copper and crown to find and save her remaining friends. So if there were pain and tears, then it had to be that way, she was convinced. It was for her friends' sake and her personal way of redemption.

After sixty customers later, she got surprisingly well accustomed, and to her shame also started to linger after the men's harsh treatment all the more, began to incite them to humiliate harder and faster. Triss hated herself because of it, loathed the guilty pleasure which seemed to be going viral and become unstoppable, insatiable. After six months of sexual abstinence and self-neglect, deprivation and solitude, it was impossible to think of resisting or keeping up the luxury of self-esteem. And the longer she was refusing to accept the truth, the harder and more pointless it seemed to get. So, Triss Merigold finally decided to reconcile herself to the situation and make the best of it.

At least until she finally had the money and her friends together to leave the city.

And this time for good.

"Ah fuck. Those lips are killing me. Keep going, whore!" The well-built man groaned as his breathing became hastier. He was a hunter of the fifth interim company of the witch hunters who almost got her seven days ago. Unlike the common combatants, the lieutenant who gave her the key to the dimeritium bracelet hadn't paid her a visit so far. Triss didn't know whether it was a good sign or not, just kept taking advantage of the increased income and the opportunity to line her pockets the best way possible.

As the man moaned and gripped her hair tighter, Triss took that as an invitation to suck faster, and she quickly released her grasp to hold his belly and found her tongue sliding up and down his big dick, constantly running around the rim of his cockhead before moving the length. After a few seconds, Triss reached his balls, and without hesitation she opened her lips as wide as they would go and wrapped them around his left testicle, tongue running around the edge and gums brushing against the rough skin. To double the pleasure for him, the red-haired sorceress never averted the eyes and looked up into his dark ones, both of them meeting as she continued her ministrations.

"Please, Sir, please let me swallow your cum. Let me make up for your losses and the disaster I brought upon all people of Northern Kingdoms," Triss teased the hunter as her mouth parted this stone-hard ball with a wet pop before moving over to his right testicle, and repeating the process and cradling it with one hand while she sucked, licked and ran her tongue. Long streams of saliva oozed down her chin and tits, forming a big pool between her flexed legs.

"Suck me dry, you pathetic sorceress, and I'll consider it. Show me how serious you really are about this," he growled, grabbing his cock and running it along her sweet, young, feminine lips. Triss didn't even hesitate as she took the hunter's cock in one hand and opened her mouth, wrapping her lips around the tip and pushing down halfway. With the red-haired sorceress' gag reflex already being away and the hunter's hand still on her head, he pushed her all the way down until her nose brushed against his stomach. As the witch hunter heard her moan onto his cock, tongue lashing out and running circles around the room, he only snarled, his head jerked back, eyes closing as he returned her wanton moan between his legs.

"Fuck you're good, Triss. Seems you have finally found your life purpose," Triss heard the customer muttering, as he looked down again, hands holding on tight and then enjoyed how the red-haired sorceress began to move back and forth, a continuous motion, the sounds of sucking reaching his ears as his cock continually appeared and disappeared in and out of her mouth. Triss' eyes were shot open the entire time, a lusty expression contorting her face as she did, but despite that, she always seemed to not get enough of his dick. Moaning in unison, she was sure that the customer would occasionally force her all the way down again, just for the added pleasure of having his cockhead brush against the back of her throat.

"I'll be here to serve you and your comrades, master witch hunter. Always be. This pussy belongs to you all now," Triss teased again, knowing that words could be a powerful tool to tip every man over the bliss' edge. As her hand moved in tandem with her mouth, jerking it up and down at the same time her mouth moved, her plush lips went up, the hand moved up. Lips went down, the hand went down. Continuously. And it all went towards his coming orgasm.

Eventually, Triss removed her hand and relied on her mouth and tongue alone, occasionally removing his cock to breathe and occasionally lick his length or cup one of his balls in her mouth again. At the beginning of her so-called new life as a harlot, she had been really reluctant, but after one rough fuck session followed on another, she had gotten more and more into it, until she began to enjoy it. Maybe a little too much Triss had to admit but chose to put up with the delusive pleasure as long as she was forced to be in this awfully alluring situation somehow.

The thrill and satisfaction were a necessary evil to have a way to handle the truth and grief over her friends' death. Obviously, Triss had taken wrong decisions over the last while and she knew that. Everything she ever wanted was to carry responsibility and rescue those who needed help most. She was used to be a leader, someone people could entrust their lives to, ask for advice from. What a profound misjudgment of herself and skills, she thought today. The bottom line was that her misguided efforts killed more people than they helped to rescue, and her ambitious ideals had become an absolute joke. Right now, Triss was exactly where she never wanted to find herself in; a brothel working as a common whore, dead broke and relying on other people's word and goodwill.

And she couldn't decide which part of those facts were the worst. But she was alive at least. Not a nervous wreck. Not at the end of her rope. Her remaining friends were still out there and she could still save them. She would rather call herself a cheap harlot and sorceress bitch than to give up on them. Even if this meant that she had to become the greatest whore in Novigrad. In the end, she was going to succeed...

... come hell or high water!

This time, the witch hunter's both hands grasped the back of Triss' head, moving with every one of her thrusts. She moaned wantonly, occasionally giving the men a look of innocence and submission, as he felt it coming; building in his testicles, moving up his dick. He was going to cum. Forcefully, he pulled her head back and off his cock, with the red-haired sorceress looking surprised as his dick fell from her lips.

"Now blow me with your hand Triss Merigold. I'm about... to cum..." the hunter groaned possessively, watching as she eagerly grabbed a hold of him and began to jerk him, "... I want you... to guide my cock... in front of your face... going... to cum... all over... open your mouth... stick your tongue out..." Triss did as ordered, placing her face directly in front of his manhood and opening her mouth wide, her hand's movements a blur as her blowjob evolved into a handjob again, eyes looking up straight into his. He could only growl, snarl and coo, as he quickly approached his desired release.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you for using me as your Maribor Cumbucket and giving me a chance to be of service."

"Oh... FUUCK!" The witch hunter grunted, his dick expanded to the max, "TRISS MERIGOLD OF FUCKIN' MARIBOR! YOU'RE MINE! I CLAIM YOU!" He barked and watched with unhinged excitement as hot, sticky seed exploded from his tip, shooting forwards in long spurts, whipping at the sorceress' beautiful face, who in turn closed her eyes as the first stream hit her on the nose, then the second shot up onto her forehead. The next two drenched her cheeks, the sixth got up her nose and some of it into her hair. Then, he watched with immense amusement, as the rest was guided into her mouth, thick white foam beginning to build inside as he emptied the rest of his load directly into her orifice. When he was finally done and dropped her mouth back onto his dick to lap up the rest of his semen, her mouth was literally overflowing with his essence, and he sighed happily.

When the happy suitor was done, she didn't need ordering, and after showing him all the cum inside her mouth, she closed it and took a deep, hard gulp. All of the sticky, heavy load slid down her throat, and the feeling of something warm and creamy bewitched her gums. It was salty, but she liked it. The man's tasty cream glided down her throat to be welcomed into her stomach, the contents of his balls to be digested by her stomach fluids.

"Damn girl..." he sighed, looking up at Triss in surprise while savoring her cleaning off his dick, "You were amazing... Best blowjob I have had in years, by far. Tell me, does my cum taste good?"

Cheeks blushing from embarrassment, the red-haired sorceress gulped down the remaining dabs and streams on her face and tits and licked her lips subsequently. She could still taste his delicious sperm in her mouth, for which she always had a soft spot and replied accordingly, "Yes, it was delicious. I loved it. You taste so good, master witch hunter."

He smiled, fiddling with his belt, "I bet you say that to all your customers."

"True, but I like cum in general so..." Triss sneered lovely.

"Hehe, I guessed that," the man chuckled and kissed her very gently on the forehead. "But since you have been such a good Triss Merigold, I've got a surprise for you." And without further warning, he stood up and grabbed ahold of her hips. Before Triss could react faster, the witch hunter lifted her and dropped her on top of her little cupboard near the door, big breasts bouncing slightly from the impact and her back bracing against the wall. Leaning in, he nibbled at her ear, something she flinched back from.

"I always wanted to do this," he uttered and tilted back, and their eyes met, noses brushing. Her breathing got heavier but before she could do anything, the strong combatant leaned in again and pressed his lips to hers. The red-haired sorceress' eyes widened as he pressed further in, but then she caught his scent. It was sweet and smelt of chocolate and vanilla. It was enough to make her calm down and close her eyes, sinking into the unexpected kiss. Their heads twisted for a better angle. Both of them moaned into each other's mouths. It felt for her like it had been an age since she kissed someone. Geralt. It was so good she couldn't resist.

A moment later, the man broke away and grinned, "You taste good, Triss Merigold. At least I'll know what to expect." It was then Triss realized that her customer had parted her legs. She gulped down, knowing what to expect; he was going to fuck her again, without making a down payment. But then he surprised her, and Triss also gasped out loud when he grabbed her legs, fell to his knees and shoved his head between her legs. His mouth covered her wet lips, tongue pushing them aside as he dove into her. The red-haired sorceress hummed, head jerking back against the hard wall and moaning out loud as her own hand grabbed the back of the witch hunter's head this time, encouraging his motions.

"Ahh... yesssss... Aaahh...!"

Triss knew she should stop him but she couldn't help it. The taste of a man's cock, the feel of his lips against hers and his scent, and his tongue flicking inside her cunt - it was too much, like a pleasure overload. As he lay there, licking and pleasuring her, Triss' moans echoed throughout the room, where they could easily be heard outside. Legs flexing in the air, her fingers dug even deeper into his hair, moving up and down in heat, as she bit her lower lip and felt an intense beam of pleasure flaring up in her belly.

A monster orgasm was on its way.

"Don't stop. Please!" Triss moaned. "I'm cumming... ngh goddess-"

Before the red-haired sorceress was able to say more, an intense climax built up inside and made her spasm, legs shaking out of control. The man's tongue ran over her sensitive walls, wriggling on her clit like an eel. An extensive fire took her hostage, as one hand snatched at her tit and nipple and she started to fondle them, eyes closed, making Triss dive into the bliss. It had been a long time since someone took care of her pussy this intimate way, and she enjoyed it to the fullest.

"Shiver me timbers! Your pussy tastes so good, Triss, flavors of strawberries and cream. Delicious," the witch hunter groaned and let his slushy tongue wander from the bottom to the top of her tiny cunt for the last time before pressing his wet lips against hers. Their tongues twisted as loud, soggy noises filled the room. Hooking her legs and arms up behind the john's back, Triss totally forgot her surroundings and time, consumed herself with the taste of her pussy juice and new-found sexual liberty.

"Have to go now, girl. My shift starts in thirty minutes," the trick stated after what felt like an eternity, broke the kiss and caressed her cheek with his finger. "You are the most wicked, red-haired whore I've ever met. You earned your five crowns tip. Here." A little bag of jingling coins landed on the bed nearby.

Triss sexily crossed her long legs when her customer headed towards his clothes which were spread all over the space. "Then you'll pay me a visit tomorrow again? At the same time, I hope?"

"You bet your tasty ass I will, Triss. An insatiable harlot like you should never spend a day without having at least one cock plowing her tiny backside. And I'll personally make sure it remains that way," the witch hunter smirked and finally tightened his belt, sheathed his sword. "I mean as long as you're still here and not working at the Passiflora, of course. Can barely afford you now. Impossible if you charge more."

A wicked smile crossed the sorceress' face. "No, Jaras, that won't happen. I'm stuck here and rather prefer spending time with the common folk than rich wimps from the upper districts. And by the way, what sort of a Triss Merigold would I be if I only put out few privileged citizens and exclude those who deserve amends most, hm?"

"A very stupid one I guess... Damn have to go. The lieutenant will give me hell if I am late again..."

"Wait. Did you hear something about the real sorceress and her treacherous companions? Have you finally caught them?" Triss asked while adjusting the buttons of his heavy leather jerkin embroidered with thick, spiky metals.

"So far, no one. Why do you wanna know?"

"Well... as long as that red-haired bitch is on the run, people have a fully adequate replacement to cool off. Me. The whole Triss Merigold thing doesn't work if she gets locked into a pillory in the public with her ass up and ready to get fucked by every man walking by, and especially for free," Triss explained and pulled the hunter's hat over his bald head.

"I see. But you should know that I would never abandon your hot company for that freak..."

"Please, Jaras. You have to tell me if you get ahold of her or the collaborators. Even rumors would help me to reconsider my own position here at the brothel. And who knows - maybe I'll show you my gratitude next time by giving you some extra rounds, for free of course," the red-haired sorceress teased and pressed her naked body and tits to his chest, fondling the man's semi-erect cock through his leather pants, which was already twitching in gleeful anticipation.

"Alright, alright. I'll do what I can. Right now, we have no handy hints or know anything about their whereabouts. But I'll keep you informed. Promise!... Ah, damn girl... You can't image how much I wanna fuck you again."

"I can feel it. And thanks," Triss foxily whispered into his ear and gave him a little peck on the cheek. "But you have to go now before we both run into difficulties. Hop hop!"

"Yes, m'Lady sorceress," the witch hunter saluted, smirked and gave her a hard smack on the raw butt before leaving her alone. Sighing with relief, Triss picked up her clothes off the floor, then dove and bathed her cum-covered face with cold water from a bucket nearby. As she looked up at herself in the mirror, her light hazel eyes glowed with fatigue and exhaustion. A usual twenty-four-hour day of a harlot seemed to last months, and the last time she had a moment for herself felt like years ago. Thirst should be her first thought coming to mind, but instead, it was with her missing friends outside struggling to survive.

But maybe they were already dead? Maybe all the fighting was pointless? Maybe she had already failed?

Triss shook her head, trying to push the dark notions away. She was not ready to give up, not yet. As long as someone with credibility she trusted didn't show clear evidence proving otherwise, Triss decided to keep believing that all her friends were sound and safe, laying low to attract unnecessary attention. But trust? A simple but strong word that could mean everything to somebody in her situation, making all the difference between success and failure, life and death. It was something extremely valuable now, more important than crowns or alliances. She couldn't deny herself of it or exclude the risks at all.

But who she could put her trust in? Geralt was not here. Zoltan and Dandelion could be everywhere. Keira Metz was somewhere in Velen and untraceable without the megascope. Philippa Eilhart was missing too, and Sheala de Tancarville and Margarita Laux-Antille were in jail called Deireadh in Oxenfurt. The number of her allies could be counted on the fingers of one hand, being short like loo roll in a public restroom.

And there was still Dijkstra, of course. During the last seven days, she asked her Madame to deliver him a message, a request to pay out her money. After three times and getting no answer, Triss thought it was time to pay him a visit in person and headed off with tentative papers in the pocket, risking her neck. But as Triss stood before the massive doors of the bathhouse and knocked at them, nobody came and opened. This was when she understood that her money was lost at all and she was really alone now. At this moment, Triss knew she had literally reached rock bottom, came to realize that another way was required.

Another plan and approach.

After squeezing her curvy body into the ultra-short mini dress with shoulderless sleeves, Triss put the black lace thong on, stretched up the thigh-high, white stockings to her buttock cleavages and slipped into the seven inch high heels every whore of the Massive Oak had to wear. Afterward, she reapplied the makeup and braided her hair to two buns, giving her tired appearance a way to shine again. As her fingers drifted to the green medallion jammed between her perky breasts, old memories unwittingly passed the mind and reminded her of why she was doing all these humiliating things.

And the situation was what it was. She couldn't turn the clock back and change it. She had to work with what she had now, make the best of it. Triss Merigold of Maribor, former advisor of King Foltest and founding member of the Lodge of sorceresses, the 'Fourteenth of the Hill'. That was her. No matter what people were saying or pretending to see in her, calling her now. She was NOT a slut, a whore, not really, just a woman like any other trying to get by. Yes. That's just it. A common sorceress who was in a mess and needed to do whatever it took to weather the storm she was living in. A sorceress and woman who was forced to adapt herself to new circumstances, situation and reality. That's all.

After reapplying the mascara and lipstick, Triss went off from the mirror and headed downstairs, sexily tottering through the lewd noises of moans and constant knocks coming from every room and corner. It was noon, or how the Madame used to call it 'the little rush hours' of the day. Most customers were looking for a way to allay their hunger for food and affection, making the Massive Oak and its own kitchen the perfect place to do so. During these two hours, all girls were relentlessly touting for new patrons to win them over to the evening's main event called 'the big rush hours'. Eighty percent of each harlot's net income was depending on it, tradition what became a simple question of survival in the prostitution business today.

And Triss had to do this too, of course.

"Hey, Triss. Good to see you here. Cinia wants to speak with you in her room. Guess you get your first paycheck," Gabrielle smiled with a wink as the red-haired sorceress reached the second floor. "And I think she also has other things to discuss with you. You better visit her now, alright?"

Triss nodded and directly headed to the end of the floor where the Madame's own quarters were, knocked at the closed door two times before she went inside when she heard Cinia's voice asking her in. "Ah Triss, you're already here. Splendid. Please close the door and take a seat. We have important things to discuss," the halfling whoremistress stated and walked to the little safe between the wardrobe and the bed. Triss recognized that the room itself wasn't lavishly furnished or different from other rooms in the house. Only the wooden desk stood out a little bit and indicated that it was maybe a workroom and not a bedchamber.

"Today is a good day for you Triss. Firstly, take this, please. Here. Two hundred and forty crowns, net and tax-free. You deserved it." Cinia handed over a heavy bag and made a mark in the book before her. "My first advice I always give my girls when they've earned their first pay: Go and open an account with a bank, preferably with Vivaldi's, and then pay your entire money in. And this is important, dearie. Don't even think to store your money under your bed or pillow. You get rubbed before you can even say 'I am fucked!'. Do you understand me? And if you have opened that account once, I can directly remit the money into it so you don't always have to go there, not to mention the weekly interest you get these days."

Two hundred and forty crowns. It felt like years ago when Triss earned so much money at once, hands slightly trembling at its weight when her fingers clenched it. "Do I not need valid identification papers for this?"

"Yes, absolutely right. I got your original and real papers here. Take them. Don't forget to carry them with you. Always. And don't lose or leave them somewhere. With those papers, you're able to move around freely and pass those stupid checkpoints the Temple Guards have established all over the city's districts. But you can't leave Novigrad by one of its gates or ship. Alright?" Cinia enjoined Triss with piercing eyes who seemed to be glancing through the letters. Her new identity was Scarlett Greenstein, born in Tretogor and been the oldest sister of three daughters. Her mother was Marié and her father Gustaf. Both were peasants on the outskirts of the capital city, and still alive.

"Are those people real? I mean not that I come across them someday and get into trouble," Triss asked, feeling like she would have a lump in her throat. Her own parents abandoned her when she started to study in Aretuza. Later, she had been told that they had died in the wake of the coldest winter Maribor would have ever suffered from. Having now a family again, even a fake one, made her sad and happy at the same time. A strange feeling.

"Yes, they actually are, but that won't happen. As far as I know, there exist fifty-six Scarlett Greensteins in Redania, and before you even ask NO, the real Scarlett didn't have to die so you could take her place. The Greenstein family you belong lost their daughter to influenza two years ago and allowed me to use her identity in exchange for an annual fee till you die. You can even pay them a visit and they would welcome you with open arms. That's part of the deal, sweetheart."

Triss pouted in amazement, never heard that something like this would be possible.

"I got more for you. Three of your missing friends, Triss. My primary contact told me that he found out where... wait what were their names again... I put them down on a paper... Ah here," the halfling woman uttered and lifted another sheet of paper while the red-haired sorceress was almost bursting with curiosity. "There is a good news and a bad one. First of all, the good news is that your friends called Anisse, Annabelle and Berthold are alive and not arrested by the Witch Hunters. However, the bad news is that they've been taken hostage by Igor, better known as "the hook" and Whoreson Junior's right-hand man. Tipsters would say Igor is abusing the girls as his personal sex slaves while forcing the poor alchemist to brew heal potions for his own men fighting in the arena... I'm sorry, dearie."

An awful feeling of shock and relief overcame the red-haired sorceress sitting with crossed legs on the chair, face paralyzed cause of the emotional roller coaster she was going through. She and Anisse had always been having a bit of trouble together but she had never wished something like this on her, less on Annabelle and Berthold. Both tender girls must have to go through hell, experiencing agonizing pain and humiliation while she was so lucky to fall into friendly hands. Triss didn't dare to imagine how Berthold must feel seeing his friend and wife being defiled this way. On the other side, they were still alive and not dead at least. And right now she gladly took every positive sign she could get, although it was tinged with bitterness and misery.

"What's the plan? How do we save them?"

"WE do nothing, Triss. Both finding and rescuing your people are my associate's job, not ours. As a part of the deal, he only keeps us informed, but he solves the problems the way he thinks it's best. Don't get any strange ideas like trying to save them by your-"

"But I can help them. With my magic, I would make all the difference. Before all this shit happened, I suppose to be a sorceress, remember? You can't really expect me to do nothing and twiddle my thumbs while my friends are taken hostages and used as sex slaves, do you?" Triss countered red with anger, shot in the air from the seat.

"But that's exactly what I want, Triss!" The Madame grunted, then heaved a weary sigh. "Sweetheart. I understand you, really. But the whole deal only works because I personally vouch for you and with my entire business, NOT because my associate is a nice guy and a philanthropist who thinks you and your friends deserve help. HE doesn't do this for you at all. Just for me. AND of course, because I pay him an enormous amount of money from the petty cash. We're talking about one thousand five hundred crowns EVERY DAY!"

For an entire minute, a profound silence fell over the place, the level of the amount leaving the red-haired sorceress speechless and falling back to the chair. "One thousand five hundred crowns. Every day. By the goddess..."

"Exactly, dearie. You thought my words of 'moving heaven and hell' were just a metaphor, did you? Wrong guess."

"But I will never be able to pay you back the entire sum, Cinia. That makes... ten thousand five hundred crowns in a week... Forty-five thousand crowns in a month. Holly goddess... And I've only earned... what was it again?... two hundred forty so far. This is insane. Isn't there another way? Maybe a little less suicidal than this?"

A sweet chuckle escaped the halfling whoremistress' lips. "Sweetheart, I'll say you what the reasons are for spending so much money, alright? We have eleven people, sorceresses, and sorcerer with each of them having an average bounty on the head of seven thousand crowns, in a city where an average wage is fifteen crowns a day. Furthermore, all these eleven fugitives also are on the run and actively chased by the major authority of Novigrad. If this wasn't enough, the authority has also declared a state of emergency which entitles it to carry out the law of arresting, murdering and burning innocent people at a stake without a fair trial. Running scared and being pinched by poverty, commons citizens have willingly become accomplices to the situation. And all these things add up to the realization that - if we really decide to rescue your friends - we have to act faster, cleverer and more cautious than the overwhelming enemy. Money is the key and there is no margin for mistakes here, Triss."

"I agree but... How should I ever be able to pay ALL my debts back?" Triss asked curiously.

Cinia' expression remained serious, scrutinizing the redhead's light hazel eyes as her back braced against the back of her chair, "Who said something about you alone? That would last years, of course. But if you work with your other girlfriends here in my brothel, you should be debt-free within few months. I'm totally sure, Triss, that if you start turning tricks together, you're going to be able to buy a seaworthy ship instead of hiring a grossly overpriced one on the black market... And hey who knows? Maybe I have a good friend here in Novigrad who builds ships and agrees to give you a proper discount. Maybe you will finally leave all this behind and even find your true salvation in the future."

Looking outside the window to the harbor, its long cranes and wooden warehouses, Triss was dwelling on different thoughts, like the real possibility of being successful at the end and free against all odds. A realistic solution seemed to be within reach and the plan could really work. There was just one thing left she still wanted to know.

"Why... Why did you help the first time? I know it wasn't a choice of money now. So why do you help me?"

"Because I was in the same situation as you once, Triss," the Madame stated, eyes glowing in already forgotten memories. "Not exactly the same but I was at an end too. Like you, dearie, I only needed someone who helped me up again, someone who gave me a second chance and believed in me, no matter who I was or what people talked about me." She stood up and walked over to the window behind her, crossed her hands behind her back and let her eyes glide along Novigrad's dirty, beautiful scenery. As the silence gained the upper hand, Triss felt the cold touch of the wind on her soft skin and recognized the first time how a beautiful, golden wavy hair Cinia had. "To be fair, you should know that I don't like your kinda damn bit. The circle of sorcerer and sorceresses has committed terrible crimes against the continent's people. And I know that - under other circumstances - you wouldn't deign to look at me, a halfling, a nobody, a mistress of whores for people like you who were used to wiggle their titled, magically improved butts in the higher society and courts, celebrate sex orgies with kings and ladies and manipulate them the way you personally get the greatest advantage of." Turning herself back at the red-haired sorceress again, Cinia added with a strong voice," But as a former combatant of the Scoia'tael, I did terrible things too, dreadful atrocities I'm not proud of and would like to leave behind... In some twisted and ironic way, we both are monsters. Each one of us in her own way, Triss. And if I got a chance to change my life, you and your friends deserve that too."

Impressed by the Madame's deep words, Triss didn't say anything, fixated the wooden floor with her eyes.

"So enough of this maudlin. There is one thing left we have to talk about. This morning, a gentleman visited us and asked for a specific harlot called Triss Merigold of Maribor. He is an old friend of mine and one of our most loyal patrons, and ready to pay five times the usual fee of twenty crowns, if he's able to spend an entire night with you in the Golden Sturgeon. Unlike other patrons, this client puts great stress in privacy and fulfillment of his special fetish," Cinia explained.

"Alright. What is it?" Triss asked full of curiosity, the addictive sound of coins making her surprisingly fast interested.

"It's actually you, sweetheart. He has a favorite fetish for plowing the famous sorceress Triss Merigold. Since the first day he visited us, he always came up with the same wish and never changed his mind. Under normal circumstances, I do not usually accept requests like this, especially this kind of an escort girl but the client has proven himself as trustworthy. So do you want that job?"

"One job worthy of five clients? And I only have to act myself? Sure," Triss smirked slightly.

"Perfect. You'll head to the Golden Sturgeon before dusk and go upstairs to the first floor, left room. It's important you knock first and then go in if it's empty. On the bed, you'll find clothes and a fox mask you have to put on. Your own clothes should be stored in a chest nearby. If you need to reapply your makeup, there will be a commode with a golden casket containing bottles of perfume, lipsticks, and mascara. But it's very important that you are dressed up and ready when your patron faces you the first time. Beware, dearie, this job will demand a great deal of improvisation and acting skills. And if you'll do it well, you'll have your first regular, and that means everything in this business. Questions?"

Triss shook her head and got up, walked towards the door as Cinia raised her bold voice, "Triss?" Hands on the doorknob, the red-haired sorceress flipped and darted a glance at the halfling woman who looked straight into her eyes. "Tomorrow, you'll be sent out on the streets and be a streetwalker. The number of customers has significantly decreased over the last three days and time has come to advertise and introduce yourself to the common folk of Novigrad. Brialla will explain to you anything you need about being a street harlot and accompany you the whole day to make sure it doesn't happen something... dangerous. Check in with her when you're here again."

"Sure... And thanks Cinia, for everything," Triss said in honesty.

"We WILL find and rescue your friends, dearie. You have my word. I'll even try to persuade my associate to meet you, so you can talk and offer your help in person. Just stay away from the arena in the meantime. I know it must be hard to stand down and trust me. And if I were you, I would try to save my friends at all costs too. But no matter how powerful and deadly you think you are, you can't reach your friends by brutal force... Since the war between Whoreson Junior and the other three crime lords of Novigrad is raging, more than sixty mercenaries are guarding the arena around the clock, alarmed and expecting serious problems any time. Even the NSF and the NSS are observing the entire place and just waiting for the right moment to strike, and for a pretense like a shortsighted, red-haired sorceress who is stupid enough to try all her friends by herself..."

Triss' blood ran cold when she heard the word NSF slipping out of Cinia's mouth. Masked and armed to the teeth, the notorious Novigradian Special Forces were famous for not backing away even when thousands of fire bolts flew their way, infamous for their persistence even when death was a safe bet. The NSF was called into action when fierce opposition or powerful magic was expected, or both. Compared to the NSF, the Witch Hunters were total amateurs and drunkards, idiots who were just learning to hold their swords properly. During her entire time in Novigrad, Triss hadn't seen one of them and been always very grateful for that. Quite apart from Menge, the NSF had his own death list of the Lodge's former sorceresses, with her head in the fifth place after Philippa's, Francesca's, Yennefer's and Fringilla's. The NSF's motto was common and engraving: One Dies, Thousand Rises.

The other word NSS made Triss' skin crawl as well. Unlike the efficient Nilfgardian Intelligence or the well-connected Redanian Secret Service, the Novigradian Secret Service was embarking on a different strategy. Because of the city's geopolitical location and limited size, the NSS wasn't trying to maintain a large, inexpert army of spies and tipsters. Instead, every agent had to pass an extremely rigorous training and then got entrusted with extraordinary authority, including the power of life and death over the inhabitants of the city, and became a part of an elite group selected from a number of people with different ethnic origins and even species. Their primary responsibility was to preserve stability and order by whatever means necessary. Though they were generally considered as being above the law and had complete discretion as to the methods used to accomplish their mission, an individual's status as a so-called and greatly feared Spectre, derived from the words Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, could be revoked by the Hierarch in a case of gross misconduct. Specters were used to work either alone or in small groups according to the nature of a particular task and to their personal preference. And Triss was very grateful that their paths had never crossed so far.

"So what are WE doing now, dearie?" Cinia asked with a deadly serious expression.

"Nothing. WE do- I do nothing..."

"Good. Now go and turn tricks again, Triss."
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Wet Cherry of Truth