Chapter 96: The Spark of Invention
Three days had passed since the grand opening of the Blackthorn House of Pleasure, and business was booming.
From morning to moonrise, the elegant house pulsed with life. Giggling clients, aromatic oils, fluttering silk, and the occasional symphonic moan that echoed out into the street. The house had quickly earned a reputation across Nettlehusk as a sanctuary of divine indulgence.
Inside, Pip was hard at work.
Literally.
He stood in a softly lit chamber at the back of the house, hands alight with gentle runes. Soft vines curled up the walls and the bed was a mossy masterpiece of botanical enchantment, all courtesy of Pip’s recent upgrades.
His body glows faintly with a warm, rosy hue, his mechanical limbs whirring with expert precision as he finishes pleasing his first client of the day.
Lost in a haze of pleasure, the woman, a tough-looking mercenary with twin battle axes and half a dozen scars, raked her nails down the Pip’s back, panting and moaning as he held her aloft. His hands cupped her butt, and her thighs wrapped his hips.
He increased his pace, pounding into her harder, faster and she gripped him like a vice as he drove her closer to the edge of satisfaction.
She throws her head back, crying out as an orgasm crashes over her. Her body convulses around Pip’s shaft and her mind bucks under the depth of his touch. With a few more deep thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt, tearing her past the edge of pleasure and deep into mind-blowing bliss.
She melts into the mattress like butter under a summer sun, moaning out thanks to every god she knows.
"Beep," Pip chimes proudly, gently patting her shoulder.
The client gives a dazed thumbs-up.