Wild Magic

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The Cheoshim Armsman slowdanced body to body with Reyna Hayaka, then took him to one of the dim booths lining the sidewalls; he pulled the curtains shut and began kissing the Salagaum with rough impatience, his hands busy on breasts and buttocks.

Reyna placed his palm over the Armsman’s mouth, leaned back against the man’s knotted arm. “I am Salagaum,” he murmured, “not habatrize.”

The man rolled his head with an abrupt, almost violent gesture, wrenching Reyna’s hand away. “I know,” he growled when his mouth was free. “You been paid, haven’t you?”

– y_es.

“Well, what’s the problem?”

“As long as you know what I am, none.” Reyna drew his fingertips down the Armsman’s face. “Come upstairs,” he whispered, ignoring the man’s roughness, keeping his voice soft and beguiling. “There’s no need for such hurry. I’ll please you better if you give me time.”

“No! Think I wanna be seen with somethin’ like you?” His fingers tightened on Reyna’s flesh; his grip was bruising, painful. “You do it here. Now.” He shifted his hold, slammed Reyna onto the leather covered bench at the back of the cubicle. “I want it hard, shikko,” he whispered as he tore at the thongs of his trousers, “hurt me.”

Ta ta ta, taaa ti tum ta, the drum beat out, ta ta taa, ti mta a turn mta.

Za zi za zrum azrum um, the daround muttered in its lowest tones-a head-dipping, belly grinding music. Ta ta ti turn mta, the drum growled.

Zrum zrumm um zum, the daround hoomed.

The new singer improvised against the beat-Oh oh AH oh, pas si CO toe, pan ni PUS si, coo no PAN niher voice high and swinging, cos si to palm ni. Gold coins glittered on the translucent white silk of the veils that fluttered about her ripe body. Oh ah oh pas si co, she crooned.