I was nineteen when I first had *** with someone for money.
 
It's funny; it wasn't exactly something I chose to do, but I certainly wasn't forced into it either. You've heard of Gerald of Pinebarrow, right? The great, noble Paladin? Slew some Lich who's name I couldn't even begin to pronounce, saved the Kingdom, settled down with some Dragoness off in the west to retire? Well, I grew up in Pinebarrow, and like most of the kids there, I always wanted to be an adventurer. You hear the stories, day in, day out, and it kinda rubs off on you, right? You always dream of being the next one the bards sing about.
 
So, once I was old enough to start earning, I put aside a little money each month. And yea, I won't lie, I stole a bit as well. Of course I told myself that when I was a big hero with huge bags of gold and jewels, I'd come home and pay everyone back, but honestly, it was a lie. Selfish? Yea, probably. But I was young, and I tried not to take too much, or from people who didn't have anything. Either way, when I hit my eigtheenth birthday, I went down to the Yorrik - the armourer, I mean - and bought a couple of knives, a set of leather armour, and a decent bow. You should have seen the look he gave me. He got a steady trade from kids heading out to adventure, but always said it didn't bring him any joy - most of them never came back. He always said that fitting someone for armour felt like fitting them for a coffin. I've not been back to Pinebarrow, but I try and write home now and then, so he doesn't worry.
 
Anyway. I managed to get work as a caravan guard. It didn't earn much, but it was easy enough, and I liked watching the trees go past as we followed the road. Sometimes we'd get packs of Goblins or the odd group of highwaymen, but they were easy enough to chase off - it turned out I was a pretty good shot with the bow, and a lot of people are still scared of Tieflings out in the backwoods - they all think we eat souls or something, so they'd scarper pretty quickly once they saw my horns. Mostly, though, I liked the freedom. Even if it was just a choice between two caravans, it was more choice than I'd ever had working the mill, and I didn't have to put up with the nasty rumours about my mother and I that went around. A lot of the other guards did a double-take when they saw me, but after you've been through a few scrapes, you kinda  stop caring about who's ancestors made what sort of unholy pacts, right?  
 
After about a year, people started asking for me by name. I'd got a reputation for being trustworthy and reliable, which is golden in this business, and decided to try my luck in the big city. Swyndell, you know the one? Built by the Elves, back in the day, though they abandoned it during the war and you guys moved in about fifty years ago. Not the biggest city around, but it was developing into a real trade hub - you get people coming in from everywhere, so I thought it'd be a great place to find someone who needs, I dunno - a mercenary, a bodyguard, whatever. To be honest, I was just playing things by ear at that point. The stories don't say how Gerald of Pinebarrow spent a year taking pot-shots at goblins because he needed to get his name out there.
 
Swyndell. The place blew my mind when I saw it for the first time. Remember, I was a country girl - the biggest thing I saw growing up was the village church's tower. But Swyndell has these massive stone towers, that just went up and up into the sky, and there's so much colour everywhere - the windows are all stained glass, and instead of lanterns, they've got these burning magical lights that float through the air. And the crowds! So many people from all over the world going back and forth, filling the streets. I'd seen a few Dwarves before - Pinebarrow does trade with the Ironhill clan up in the mountains - and seen pictures of Elves, but here there were Dwarves, Elves, Dragonborn, Orcs, those cute little lizard guys...Kobolds, yea. Everything. Even a few other Tieflings. Humans were still the majority, but it took my breath away. 
 
So there I was, completely new in town. I stopped off at the first inn I found to get rested after the journey, then spent the next couple of days finding my way around the place. Or at least, I tried. The place was like a maze, and I wasn't used to crowds, so I kept getting lost. It didn't help that I wasn't even sure what I was looking for - some sort of upmarket inn or trading post where I could set myself up and find a decent employer. When I found the Second Circle, I thought I'd finally found what I was looking for.
 
Okay, I suppose I should quickly explain something. Swyndell's prostitution laws are funny. It's not illegal to sell ***, but it *is* illegal for someone to employ you to sell ***. It comes under their anti-slavery laws, I think. Basically, it means there are no brothels, but a lot of inns will let working girls (and boys) work on their premises for free. It gets more people through the doors, right? But because no-one wants to drink at a place with a bunch of scabby prostitutes hanging around, it gives the people plying their trade an incentive to make themselves look as attractive as possible - they'd get thrown out, otherwise. 
 
Now, the Second Circle had made an absolute killing out of this relationship. It's owner had been the first people to realise the opportunity for mutual moneymaking, and had grabbed it with both hands. Of course, all I saw was a posh-looking inn with a bunch of pretty ladies coming in and out, so I thought - well, there we go! That'll do nicely. So I went on in, got a drink, and not knowing exactly what to do, sat somewhere visible and tried to catch people's eyes. I'd finished two drinks and had gotten nothing but funny looks, and was about to try somewhere else, when someone finally approached me. A young man - long dark hair, pale skin. Muscular, but not overly so - not like the barbarians you get from down south. He was dressed a little like I was, only in metal rather than leather. I figured him for another adventurer - which was true - and guessed he was looking for a partner. Which, I suppose, was also true.
 
"So, uh." He said. "New girl, huh?"
 
"Yea." I replied, nodding. "I've been in town a few days. Looking to make some money."
 
He grinned at that. I could see him checking me out - his eyes were pretty obviously roaming up and down my body, stopping on my bust and my horns, though at least he didn't lean round to get a look at my ass. I flicked my tail round to catch his eye and gave him a grin of my own. If it hadn't been for drinks, I might have felt annoyed or self-conscious, but I quite enjoyed the attention - and he wasn't exactly bad looking himself.
 
"Well, I might be able to help you there." He said. "How much do you charge?"
 
"Depends on what you need me to do, and for how long."
 
"Say, an hour upstairs?" He reached out and ran a hand down my side, stopping on the curve of my hip and squeezing gently.
 
It was about then that the penny started dropping.  I wasn't completely ignorant. There'd been streetwalkers back home, but they'd been homeless and destitute, often mad or sick. Even if you felt sorry for them, you gave them a wide berth, for fear the village gossips would start talking. Nor was I completely innocent - I'd had a few of the local boys, but never anything serious. But still, the idea of selling myself...
 
I thought about the streetwalkers, but then looked at the men and women around me. I liked ***. I liked money. I wasn't being forced into anything. I unlaced the top holes of my armour with one hand and ran the other down the front of his armour, leaning into him so he'd have a good view of my cleavage and named the first number that came into my head.
 
"Ten gold."
 
He raised an eyebrow. "That much?"
 
Too much, of course, but he didn't seem put off. He slid his hand further around me and let his fingers play up and down my ass. I felt, at that moment, just like I always feel when I'm negotiating prices, a rush of power. A lot of people think that *** workers have to be weak and downtrodden, but for me, it wasn't anything like that. I had something he wanted, and I was the one who decided whether or not he got to have it. I could feel the heat of my own arousal building, but it was as much that control, that sense of power as it was his caresses that caused it.
 
"Do you see any other Tief girls in here?" I smirked, giving him a glimpse of fang, and nodded to the rest of the room. "Rare goods are always worth so much more."
 
"Yea, but I could get two girls for that." He said. "Six."
 
"Eight." I'd have settled for six, but I wanted to keep pushing - to get as much as I could from him.
 
"Seven."
 
Instead of replying, I reached down and felt the bulge in his trousers. Rubbing it gently, I stepped in and whispered into his ear, "Sir, you have yourself a deal."
 
He pulled away from me with a wide grin on his face and tried to take me by the hand, but I quickly stepped ahead and beckoned him to follow, swinging my hips and flicking my tail from side to side as I alighted the stairs. I'd seen people coming up and down them all day, and had assumed that was where people went to work out their private arrangements - and hadn't been that far off.
 
I gently pushed a few doors at random until I found one that wasn't locked, and led the man inside. He moved over to the bed and started pulling his armour off while I locked the door and turned to look at him.
 
"Do you have a name?" I asked. 
 
"Kristoff." He replied, then added. "A lot of the other girls don't ask for names. Do you kiss as well?"
 
It seemed like a dumb question - we're going to have ***, but we're not going to kiss? - but I quashed the thought. "Irieella." I said. "Kissing is a silver extra."
 
Before he could reply, I stepped over and sat down next to him, taking his chin in one hand and pulling him in closer, kissing him deeply. Our tongues danced, and when I pulled away, I let him see the forked end flickering against my lips for a second. 
 
"That one's for free."
 
He groaned. "One silver. Right." He finished pulling off his armour, then raised an eyebrow.
 
"Come on then. Show me what I paid for."
 
I jumped up and stood with my back to him, raising my hands above my head, and began a swaying, sinuous dance as I undressed. I unlaced my armour and tossed it aside, throwing a glance over my shoulder as I did so. He was almost ***** himself, **** aside from his trousers, and I let my tail brush back and forth across his hidden erection as I stripped. My own trousers were next - I bent double and raised my tail, slowly rolling the tight garment down, giving him a perfect view of my wet slit as it slipped over my ass and down my legs.  When I turned back, wearing only a thin undershirt which did very little to hide my small ******* and pert nipples, I saw he had gotten rid of his own clothes and was gently stroking  his ****. I pulled off my top and shook my head, letting my dark hair spill down over my crimson skin, and for a moment, we just stood and stared, devouring one another's bodies with our eyes. My eyes played over his tight, wiry muscles, his bright eyes and his stiff erection, while he drank in my tall, athletic physique, my horns and my tail. In the end, he spoke first.
 
"My god, devil woman." I grinned broadly, and he didn't flinch at the sight my my fangs. "Come put that mouth to good use."
 
He sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs. By that point, I don't honestly think he expected me to kneel before him, but he went along with the pantomime regardless. I swept past, brushing my fingers through his hair, lay down on the bed and reached out a hand.
 
"Money first."
 
He groaned again, a mixture of desire and frustration. At that point I was so turned on I'd probably have ****** him either way, but I wanted to hold on to that feeling of power for as long as possible - to tease him, first below with gentle whispered and caresses, and now with the shape and sway of my body - before finally letting him have what he wanted. Kristoff leaned over the bed and pulled a pouch from his discarded trousers, counted out a handful of coins, and passed them to me. I leaned back and spread my legs, dropping the money onto the mattress between them with a faint jingle, making a theatrical show of counting the coins, one at a time, lazily rubbing my clit as I did so. Satisfied that he had paid in full, I nodded.
 
 "Well, everything seems to be in order. Lie back."
 
He did so, and I slithered up between his legs until I came face to face with his ****. I shot him a devilish look up the length of his body and, taking it gently by the base, angled it towards me and planted a soft kiss on the crown, lapping the bead of salty precome that had built there. Pulling back, I blew a cold breath over the wet head, making him gasp and twitch, before leaning back in and taking him into my warm, wet mouth. Letting out a small groan of pleasure myself, I began to bob back and forth, alternating between working the shaft with my tongue and flicking the forked tip up against his head like a snake, always being careful not to graze him with my teeth. Hearing him sigh and relax under my ministrations, I pulled his **** from my mouth with a wet pop and licked up from the base to the tip. Shuffling closer, I let his sticky tool flop against my chest and pushed my ******* up against it. I've never been particularly gifted in the chest department, but I pushed them together around him.
 
"Is this good for you?" I murmered, stroking his **** up and down between my *******. Every time the head popped up between them, I dipped my head and licked or kissed it, sometimes letting a string of mixed precome and saliva draw up before lapping it back into my mouth. "Do you like it? Paying strange girls to get you off like this? Is it better when -"
 
He grunted, twitched, and came. It caught me by surprise and I cried out, jerking backwards as his seed splashed over my neck and chin. "Ah. I'll, uh, take that as a yes." I said, as the warm fluid trickled down to gather on my bust. Kristoff sat up, looking slightly shamefaced.
 
"Damn. I don't normally...I mean, I usually last the full hour." He leaned over the bed again, looking for his clothes. "Are you going to be here next week?"
 
"You paid for an hour." I replied, wiping his come off my chest with a finger. "So you've still got an hour. Or what's left of it. Right?" Something of the inexperience sounded in my voice, because he turned back and gave me a strange look.
 
"Well yea, but once you pop, your time's done." Kristoff said. "At least, that's how it is with the other girls." He paused for a moment. "But I'm thinking you're not like the other girls, are you? I mean, besides the obvious." He guestured to my horns. 
 
"I guess not." I sat back, crosslegged, and tried to ignore my own unfulfilled desire. "Honestly, I'm an adventurer. Or trying to be. I thought this would be a good place to look for work." I glanced at the pile of coins on the end-table. "Didn't expect it to be this sort, though. Not that I'm complaining."
 
"Adventurer? What sort of skills do you have?"
 
"Uh. I'm a good shot with a bow, and can fight up close if I have to. Quick hands, I can pick locks and pockets." I glanced at him, still fighting the urge to reach down and start getting myself off.
 
"You had any offers yet?"
 
I shook my head, wondering if he was really going to start talking about employment opportunities while we were both *****, and my hands kept wandering down to my aching slit. "None."
 
"You want one?"
 
"Actually, Kristoff, right now, I want to get ******." I admitted with a shrug. He laughed at that. 
 
"Fair enough. So, is it business or pleasure this time?"
 
 I eyed his hardening **** eagerly, and let a sly grin slide over my face. "Both."
 
He shuffled over, and I spread my legs for him. "Uh-uh. Other way." He gestured for me to roll over. Right away, I knew what he wanted, but I was so turned on that I didn't care. I duly rolled over and got up on my hands and knees, pushing my backside up and out towards him. He slipped a pair of fingers into me, and I gasped as he began to slowly work them in and out, occasionally stooping in to lap at the fluids starting to work their way down my inner thigh.
 
"Gods, you're wet. Right, uh, do you mind if I, uh?" He pulled his fingers out tapped a knuckle against one of my horns. Staring at the wall, I rolled my eyes.
 
"Sure. Just don't pull too hard."
 
He tapped his **** - still sticky with his come and my saliva - against my cunt, then with an agonising slowness, pushed into me. I let out a long, low groan as he did so, kneading the sheets and arcing my back. He wasn't especially huge, but unfulfilled arousal had made me sensitive, and he gave me a moment before slowly drawing back and pushing back my heat, drawing forth another short gasp of pleasure. He started off slowly, holding my shoulder for support and slipping a hand around to play with one of my nipples, and it wasn't long before I was pushing back against his thrusts, desperate to take his **** deeper into my soaking *****. 
 
"Ugh. Harder." I muttered. "Gods, harder!"
 
As if on cue, his hands crept up and wrapped around my horns. I don't know why the handlebar trick is so popular, but for some reason, the first time I sleep with a guy, it's always the first thing they go for. He pulled gently, lifting me back against him as he increased his pace.
 
"Do you like that?" He whispered, mirroring my earlier words as he pistoned in and out, drawing a throaty gasp from me with each thrust. "Do you like it when guys pay to **** you? Do you like selling yourself to the highest ******* bidder?"
 
Anchored by his **** in my ***** and held up by my horns, I twisted and tweaked my nipples, feeling an orgasm starting to build. "Just - uh, gods, just **** me - " I hissed under my breath. 
 
"You didn't answer my question." He said. Kristoff slammed his thighs forwards, driving his **** right to the hilt. I cried out, nerves jangling on the edge of coming, and he withdrew - all the way. The head of his **** danced at the entrance to my cunt, slipping up and down, teasing my clit. "Tell me you like it. Tell me you're a born whore."
 
"I'm - I'm, oh, **** you - " he pushed his head an inch into me, held it for a few seconds, then let himself slip out again, and I almost howled in frustration. "Oh, **** you, fi-fine. I, I'm a slut, I'm a whore, I love *** and money and I-"
 
Kristoff pushed me face down into the bedsheets and thrust his **** deep into me with one, great thrust. I barely had time to recover before he drew back and pushed forwards, ******* me hard and fast, drawing a breathy gasp each time he slammed into my hot, twitching depths. He thrust three, four, five times before I tipped over the edge and came hard - my body rocking as waves of pleasure washed through me, clawing at the bedsheets and shrieking like a banshee. I barely noticed him coming himself, hilting his **** in me one last time and flooding my insides with his seed.
 
We came apart, sticky with sweat and fluid. He collapsed backwards to stare and the ceiling, while I slumped forwards, our mixed fluids trickling down my legs. In the future, I'd come to hate that sort of dirty talk - I think it's arrogant and demeaning - but at that moment, my irritation was washed away by the heady afterglow of ***. Eventually, I rolled over and gazed at him down the length of our bodies. He coughed and looked up at me.
 
"Uh, sorry about that. I, uh, guess I got a bit carried away."
 
I coughed politely. " You could say that." I groaned, then shook my head. "So, pleasure done. Business?"
 
---
 
We left Swyndell the next day. We weren't a couple, and never would be, but we were friends, and together we were able to strike out and do some proper adventuring. We met other people before long, and whenever we hit town, I was always able to make sure we'd never be short of money - and, given that *** is a universal currency, was able to solve a few other problems using my particular skills. 
 
Those, however, would be stories for another time.