Meanwhile, far behind the village tavern in a disgusting back alley that reeked of spoiled meat, piss, and week-old sewage, the ten members of the feared Black Boarclaw gang lay unconscious in a mountain of rotting garbage.
Their terrifying reputation was in ruins.
Madam Seraphine had humiliated them in front of an entire brothel full of witnesses — customers, working girls, bouncers, everyone. The bouncers had dragged their limp bodies out the back door and dumped them into the trash like yesterday's leftovers.
To add the final insult, two filthy stray dogs had wandered over and were now casually marking their territory.
Yellow streams splashed across bruised faces, ran into open mouths, and soaked into matted hair and beards. The dogs didn't care. They just kept pissing on the "mighty" bandits like they were nothing more than convenient fire hydrants.
A few minutes later, the leader — a massive brute named Rathgar Blackclaw — stirred.
The moment the acrid, bitter taste of dog piss hit his tongue and warm wetness trickled down his face, his bloodshot eyes snapped open.
Rage exploded through him like molten lava.
He shot upright, spitting and roaring, face twisted in pure animal fury. Veins bulged on his forehead and neck. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles split and bled.
The other nine bandits groaned awake around him, wiping dog urine from their eyes, slowly realizing the depth of their shame.
Every single one of them had been knocked out cold by a woman.
Dragged through the streets like garbage.
Pissed on by stray dogs while the whole village would soon be laughing.
Rathgar could already hear it — the whispers, the giggles, the tavern stories. Kids pointing. "Did you hear? The big bad Black Boarclaw Gang got bitch-slapped by a brothel madam… then used as dog toilets!"
The humiliation burned deeper than any wound. His pride — the only thing that mattered to a man like him — was shattered.
"I'll kill them all…" he growled, voice shaking with venom. Spit flew from his lips as he slammed his fist into the ground, cracking the stone. "Every last soul in that pathetic village is going to pay. They think this is funny? They think they can laugh at the Black Boarclaw Gang?"
His eyes burned with insane fury as a dark, twisted plan took shape in his mind — something quiet. Something cruel. Something that would rot the village from the inside out without anyone ever seeing it coming.
The other bandits, still dripping with dog piss and shame, looked at their leader and knew.
Tonight, the real nightmare for the village had only just begun.
---
Soft morning sunlight filtered through the heavy silk curtains, painting the huge bed in warm golden light.
I blinked awake slowly, body still buzzing with the leftover heat from last night's endless teasing. My head felt fuzzy, and my cock was already half-hard just from the memories of Mira's tongue, her praises, and that cruel "not yet" smile.
I was completely naked. The thin sheet had pooled around my waist sometime in the night.
Right beside me, Thorne was sprawled out like a starfish — also butt-naked, snoring softly with one arm thrown over his face. His morning wood stood proudly under the sunlight like it was saluting the day.
I sat up with a quiet laugh, careful not to wake him yet. My clothes lay scattered on the floor exactly where Mira and Elara had dropped them. I stretched, pulled on my trousers and shirt, and ran a hand through my messy hair.
In my past life I used to wake up to an alarm at 6 a.m. sharp, already stressed about spreadsheets.
Here? I woke up naked in a luxury brothel bed after getting edged senseless by two gorgeous MILFs who called me "good boy" for hours.
Not bad.
Thorne stirred a second later, cracking one eye open. "Ugh… bro… did last night actually happen?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. He sat up, yawned hugely, and started dressing too — still half-hard and not even bothering to hide it.
We grabbed our brooms from the corner (the same ones Madam Seraphine had handed us yesterday) and stepped out into the quiet top-floor hallway.
"You take the right side," I told him, pointing with my broom. "I'll take the left. Meet in the middle when we're done."
Thorne gave me a sleepy thumbs-up, still rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, yeah… right side it is. Don't slack off, Mr. Legendary Cleaner."
We both chuckled and split up, each heading down our assigned side of the long corridor to start the morning routine — sweeping, wiping surfaces, and changing sheets like always.
---
I grabbed my broom and started sweeping the quiet hallway, soft morning sunlight turning the marble floors golden after last night's wild teasing. I pushed open the next private room and froze.
Mira was still there.
Completely naked on the big silk bed, curves glowing in the warm light — heavy breasts rising and falling with each sleepy breath, thick thighs slightly parted, smooth skin practically begging to be touched. She turned her head, saw me, and gave me the warmest, sleepiest smile I'd ever seen.
"Hey, little brother… good morning," she purred, voice still husky from sleep.
My face ignited. I'd seen her naked last night, but this — relaxed, natural, morning-glow perfect — hit different. My heart slammed against my ribs.
"G-Good morning, Mira…" I squeaked, forcing my eyes away and sweeping like my life depended on it.
She didn't help. She just watched me with that playful little smile, teasing in that honey-sweet voice I was already addicted to.
"Aww, look at you trying so hard not to stare… you're so cute when you're nervous. Your ears are all pink. Did last night leave you wanting more, little cleaner boy?"
I swept faster, hands shaking, cock already twitching back to life in my trousers. A few minutes later I finished the room and turned to leave, desperate to escape before I embarrassed myself.
"Hey, little brother," Mira called sweetly, sitting up so her breasts bounced softly. "I need a shower… and it looks like you do too." Her eyes flicked over my dusty clothes and the faint scent of last night still clinging to me. Then she added with a wicked little grin, "Since you need one too… why don't you help me with mine?"
My brain blue-screened. I nodded so fast I almost snapped my neck.
Mira giggled — that soft, musical sound that melted my knees — and slid off the bed. Still completely naked, she took my hand, warm skin sending sparks up my arm. "Good boy," she whispered, and led me downstairs toward the big communal bath house.
Right behind us, Thorne was doing the exact same thing — trotting after Elara like an eager puppy, eyes wide and hopeful. The moment our eyes met in the hallway he winked. I winked back, fighting a laugh.
We all stepped into the steamy bath house together. Warm mist curled around us, the scent of rose oil and hot water thick in the air.
Mira and Elara exchanged an amused glance, then spoke almost in unison:
"You guys have huge expectations, don't you? But we're not going to have sex in here. We're both exhausted from last night. We just need a nice relaxing bath… and to get ready for tonight's busy hours."
Thorne's face crumpled like a kicked puppy. His lower lip actually trembled, eyes going big and watery.
I tried to play it cool on the outside — shoulders relaxed, face straight — but inside I was screaming.
Mira noticed immediately. She stepped closer, still gloriously naked, and trailed one finger lightly down my chest.
"Although…" she purred, voice dropping into that silky tone that made me weak, "you can't have sex with us today… you boys are allowed to touch and wash our bodies. Anywhere you want. And we'll clean you too… nice and thorough."
Thorne and I didn't even hesitate.
We started nodding like chickens pecking rice — fast, frantic, desperate little bobs.
Both MILFs burst out laughing, the sound echoing warmly through the steam.
"Oh my god, look at them!" Elara giggled, covering her mouth. "They're so eager it's adorable."
Mira leaned in close to my ear, her bare breasts brushing my arm as she whispered hotly:
"Such good boys… let's see how well you can wash your Big Sisters, then."