Word spread through the house. Within the hour, all ladies knew about the offer, knew the amount, were speculating about the fellow's identity, about what the outcome would be. Women traded stories about the sum of their 'first sale', if they had one, and would otherwise be jealous, but were not since the 'generous offer' came because of Vanessa's deformity, not her beauty. They sometimes envied her face, but never her hump.
By that right, they were intrigued, that this could fund a surgery to fix what was wrong with her, to turn her into a true beauty. Penelope noted that she'd had extra toes on each foot, and paid for their removal by working. She paid a few hundred double dollars, and performed a few favors for the doctor, and it was 'worth every bit', as she said.
---
Vanessa sped through her chores, grimacing slightly due to a pounding headache. Her back hurt, her chest hurt. The moment she had free, she rushed downstairs to be alone with that full-length mirror.
Could she truly be rid of this thing, these things? So close to her spine, the hump was, that she thought it impossible to remove, but really why not? Why couldn't the thing be excised? If she could reach it, if it weren't for the blood loss issue, she could do it herself. Just slice it off and sew it up and be done with it. The ears – she wasn't sure. There had been mention of 'plastic surgery' in texts, but not at length enough for her to know for certain how a person could fix her ears, her teeth, her back. However, if such technology did in fact exist, she was a fool to pass it up, wasn't she?
Her 'first time,' love, these were things she hadn't considered before. She didn't think a girl like her, born like her, would ever be able to make a family like those around her. It was assumed. If she could use her body to her advantage, wouldn't that be alright?
The women in the house lived in absence of 'love,' that much she was sure of. They seemed to pretend it, but it wasn't actually there. Love was what started marriages and made children. But it couldn't be all that special, considering how people spoke of theirs. Why, Greta complained about her husband constantly! And she'd been told that many husbands beat their wives!
At the brothel, women were beat sometimes, but at least they were not owned by a husband, and could wear beautiful things and be beautiful and live happily and free.
Of the act itself, the act referenced in many books but never described in full, never with illustrations or explanation of what people actually did, Vanessa wondered what it meant for her. It involved touching, she assumed, kissing maybe, and sleeping. Touching other people wasn't something she did often. It was something she didn't feel she needed, but it was not bad either. If someone touched her, she usually took it as a compliment – that they would venture to touch such a thing as she. If this man wanted to pay a lot to touch her – touch her in a way very important – that was a big compliment. The women seemed to think so, too.
She wondered if the act involved clothing removal – since she remembered the advice, that she should not let boys see her nude. Was the 'messing with' that Greta referred to actually sex? Maybe Greta was trying to help Vanessa learn to avoid having sex, to avoid having children before she had a house? So then, if under Madame's care sex did not mean children, and it entailed a house, Greta's warning perhaps did not apply?
Vanessa wished for an explanation of the act, at least, before her decision could be final.
---
She didn't wish to bother Madame with this, because the other women knew, obviously. Near noon, the ladies gathered in the bath for turns in the tubs, so Vanessa ventured to sit there to ask them. The air was hot and humid from the water, and the voices within bounced from tiles covering the walls and floor. Seating herself upon the laundry hamper by the sinks, Vanessa turned to the four ladies bathing in a row. "How do you have sex?" she asked seriously.
The ladies laughed. "See, I told you she doesn't know," Maggie commented to Traci.
"Sweetie," Traci began, smiling, "do you know about man parts and woman parts?"
Vanessa nodded, though she only knew about men's from a picture.
"Well the man's…oh, what word to use. The man has a thing that gets big when he gets excited about a woman, you know? And he puts that in the woman's part, between her legs. Do you understand?"
Yes, she knew about the woman parts. She had a cycle, and the other women had a cycle, and they talked about it a lot. It was discussed in the books and she knew to prepare for the cycle, though it didn't make it any more pleasant to know. The cycle was related to children, and since it was all associated with the same set of organs and orifice, the explanation (vague though it was) made perfect sense. Sperm came from the phallus, so that was the key. Boy, it sure didn't look like it could do that, from the diagram!
"So the guy puts his thing in you, in and out for a while;"
"Sometimes not so long a time," Maggie interjected, laughing.
"Yeah, so he does that and then his…well, his stuff comes out into you and he's done. He pays you and he leaves. And Madame has this paste that we put up into us before we do it so we don't get pregnant. Ok?" Geena smiled.
Vanessa rested her chin in her hands. "So then, why do the men do it? There aren't babies, so…so it's 'entertainment.' Why?"
Again, they laughed. "It's fun, sometimes."
"It feels good to the man, sometimes it feels good for us, too. It makes them feel really good. They pay for it, after all."
"Oh," Vanessa responded, mulling this over. "Why is the first one worth more?"
"It's a big deal, to the Johns at least," Traci answered, rolling her eyes. "It's just the first time you do it, that's all; it hurts some, but it's really just something they like, to have someone the first time."
"Some guys, they want to be with a lady who knows what to do, knows what they like," Maggie reflected, "and some guys, they want to be with somebody that don't know what goes where."
"It doesn't really make sense, hon." Janice jumped in, taking the back-brush from Traci. "We don't bother wondering why men are the way they are, we just aim to profit from it."
"It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it!" Maggie announced, to laughter.
Vanessa simply sat upon the hamper, staring at the tiles and grout. If she were one of them, maybe she would have thought that was funny, too. It would be nice, to be one of them, these beautiful women.
"If you've no more to ask, you really ought to start with the linens, dear," Geena noted, standing from the sudsy water to dry off her curvaceous body.
---
The decision felt already-made before she'd decided, but the conclusion she came to was the same. "Madame, I accept this man's offer."
Madame breathed deeply and did not smile, nor frown. She simply wore her usual, tightly drawn, sober expression, and nodded slightly. "I will send word, then. When I get the details I will prepare you myself. It will be soon."
Vanessa smirked slightly. Soon, soon she'd be able to 'join the ranks,' not just of the painted ladies, but of society in general. Soon she'd be rid of her deformities. She would soon be a woman and, soon after, a normal one.