Chapter 1: Pick a Musketeer
Notes:
This fanfic was inspired by a dream I had. I matched the women as best as I could to my dream. Sexual escapades range from tender to rough to downright vulgarity.
WARNING: I wrote some pretty vulgar things, so if sex like this offends you, skip this fic!
"Welcome gentlemen!" Matron Cleo greeted her favorite Musketeers as they towed out chairs from behind a crude wooden table and sat. They returned the greeting adding their drink order. The Matron nodded and swirled through the crowded tavern in search of her new serving girl, Felicity. She found the young woman fanning at a cloud of smoke and gasping for air.
"Come child, the Musketeers I told you about are here. Tonight is your night!"
The sixteen year old serving girl nodded obediently, obviously grateful for the job Matron Cleo bestowed upon her. She trailed at the Matron's skirt tail until she dived into an inconspicuous corner tugging Felicity with her. The older woman cupped the younger one's chin and gazed into her eyes and asked, "Are you sure you are ready to do this? It is such a crucial step in a girl's life and once it is gone, you can never get it back."
Felicity tried to conceal her anguished reflection as best as she could. No, she was not at all sure. "Yes, Mademoiselle. This is something I must do whether I am ready or not."
The Matron's normally cold eyes softened. She had been just like Felicity once, naive and innocent, but that was before she was forced to greet the real world. The world could be a terribly harsh place on a young woman on her own and she had found this out the hard way. She swallowed hard, pitying the pristine natural beauty before her. The innocence shimmering in her eyes would be but a sorrowful memory come dawn, replaced with sensibility and bitterness. The Matron blinked and when she opened her lids again, the vitriolic cold had returned.
Having to lean down as Felicity was much shorter than her, she placed her arm around the girl's shoulders and pointed. "The burly dark one is Porthos and he belongs to Marigold for only she can salt his beastly appetite. A little thing like you would not want him anyways."
Felicity nodded, watching the big man tug saucy Marigold, a sleazy ex-pirate wench, into his lap. He whispered something in her ear, his lips curled north. She howled and he roared with laughter. It was obviously some lewd joke. The couple seemed to have been made for one another, both tawdry and loutish. Marigold could have him. He wasn't Felicity's type. Not that the inexperienced girl really had a type. She had never even been kissed. She grew up in the countryside as a plow girl and life as a farmer did not grant time to squander.
"The tall slender one with the baby face is D'artagnan. He is the one I told you about. He bears a kind heart and will be very gentle with you."
"You also said he is in love with Celine."
"Oh yes, he desperately is, but Celine won't mind sharing him with you. It is not like she returns his sentiment. He tips well and money is all that matters to Celine."
"She is lucky to have one such as he to care for her. She should marry him and escape this hellish life."
The Matron took on a scolding tone. "This hellish life keeps us warm at night and food in our bellies, and will ultimately be your mother's only hope."
Felicity bit her lip. The matron was right. After her father died, she and her mother and her child siblings refuge to Paris where her mother grew carcinogenic ill with sickness of the lungs. If not for her employment at the tavern, they would be beggars on the streets. "I am so sorry. I did not mean it. I am very grateful to you and all you have done for me."
The Matron patted Felicity on her head, using body language to express her genuine affection. She sincerely liked Felicity. She bore a rare beauty and voluptuous curves that could even make a priest blush; a blessing that would earn her lots of money in the future.
"The other one I told you about is Aramis and he is the handsome bloke with the scruffy face. He had tender hands like D'artagnan. He is a charming seducer and extremely debaucheries. Sex is art to him and he is a master artist. He can make a woman cream for hours!"
"He looks like he would be nice, but I have been warned to stay away from him."
"And why is that?" The Matron narrowed her eyes. She was the only one to set rules in the tavern.
"Because Lily is in love with him." Felicity beamed honorably. Lily, whom the Matron snatched out of an orphanage, was the only harlot there that had truly befriended her.
"Oh, honey, every woman is in love with Aramis and he in love with them, but he will never settle with just one. He claims if he did all the others would be jealous."
"I do not want to hurt Lily. She sincerely cares for that man."
"Lily is hurting herself for loving a whoremonger like Aramis. You select him or D'artagnan for your own good. In this life you have to look out for number one. You can not consider others as they will not consider you. If Lily was in your shoes, she would walk the same path. She understands. Now come on, let me introduce you to them."
"But wait, what about the last one? The one dressed in black. He is most handsome in a dark way."
"Oh no, dear, you steer clear of that one. He is Athos and while he is the noblest of all, he bears a black heart."
Felicity cocked her head, not understanding. "What do you mean black heart?"
"Athos has a dark past. He often drinks alone and is quite moody. While the others prowl and play, he usually drinks himself mad in a corner, daring anyone to venture near him. Everyone knows when he is in one of his moods to just leave him be. He is very dangerous. Very seldom does he select a wench for the night and when he does, well, all I can say he is not for you. You could not handle him. You set your eyes on Aramis or D'artagnan and stay the hell away from Athos."
Felicity widened her eyes with fear and the Matron added. "You have no reason to grow apprehensive. Athos would never intentionally hurt a woman and he would not desire a virgin anyhow. Now come on and meet them so you can make your selection. You have an amazing opportunity this night and you must make the most of it. Seize the moment, little one, and never glance back."
Felicity shook her head in agreement, all the while her heart shouting "flee while you still can" and mind reasoning "this is the only way". She was the sacrifice. Her family's survival. Her mother would do it for her. Felicity knew this and this knowing was the fuel behind her step as she tread her way toward the table of the famous Musketeers.
"My swaggering swashbucklers, meet my new serving wench, Felicity." Matron Cleo bowed jestful.
Aramis gracefully leaped to his feet despite little Lily's uneasy gaze. He collected Felicity's tiny hand and cooed in a rakish tone, "Most pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady. I am Aramis and I am at your disposal". As if a girl of Felicity class was considered a lady.
Cheeks flaming scarlet, Felicity cast her eyes bashfully down and snatched back her hand. She muttered, "Thank you" in a demure voice.
Aramis smiled. She was a pretty little thing and obviously unspoiled. He pointed at Porthos, who was chugging a tankard of ale. "This is Porthos."
Porthos opened his mouth to speak, but Marigold shut it for him. "And he is a rakish scoundrel!"
"You would know, gutter rat!" Porthos bellowed, slapping Marigold on her hefty thigh.
Felicity only smiled. She had never liked Marigold, finding the middle-aged woman trashy and uncouth. She would slit one's throat over a mere piece of gold.
Celine, who had already overindulged too much for the early hour, clumsily stood and introduced D'artagnan. The young warrior aided his love to sit before taking Felicity's hand in greeting. "Hello." He spoke in such a soft tone Felicity had to strain her ears to understand him. He was as beautiful up close as he was from a distance.
Celine seemed to read Felicity's mind and said, "D'artagnan, perhaps you could oblige Felicity to a dance later on this evening. She is new to the nightlife and has no idea how to dance."
D'artagnan politely agreed, but his eyes hinted that he would prefer to spend his time at Celine's side.
"The only cock she had to dance with back home was a swine, and maybe a chicken or two!" Marigold bawled, making Felicity the butt of her crude joke. Everyone burst into laughter, but Felicity and Athos.
"And this solemn fellow is Athos." Aramis extended a hand in Athos' direction. Athos finished a mug of ale before taking the time to cast his eyes upon Felicity. She smiled a demure smile, their eyes locking briefly before he dismissed her with one stride of his head as if she were an insignificant child. He then reached for a shot.
"A drink?" Aramis offered Felicity a mug of ale.
"No thank you. I do not indulged."
"But tonight is an exception." The Matron announced collecting the foaming tankard from Aramis and placing it in Felicity's hand. Everyone chugged except Felicity, who sniffed the acrid order, scorning it by wrinkling her dainty nose.
"Drink it girl, you will need it." The Matron encouraged.
Catching the whore owner's double meaning, Felicity engulfed the entire contents of the mug.
"That is my girl!" The Matron clasped her arm. "Now run along and fetch more ale for these hard-working men."
Felicity quickly obeyed. After she was out of earshot, the Matron turned to the men and announced, "She is a virgin and tonight is to be her first." Aramis glanced at Porthos with a cocksure smile tugging at his lips. The Matron caught the interaction and added. "May the best man win!"
"Hear hear!" The Musketeers, all but Athos, cheered. There was nothing more delectable than a coy virgin.
