Life in the brothel was in full swing while you were waiting for your client, counting the money you had received for the day. From the other rooms came the distinct sounds of moans, melodies of various musical instruments, as well as curses from the men who came here to pour out their vulgarity on the bodies of the girls who worked here. Your kimono was already wrinkled from various actions, your hair was disheveled, and your body felt completely tired.

This was your routine to earn a living.

The doorbell rang, warning of a newcomer. Firm steps were heard on the wooden floors, which creaked under someone else's shoes. An impressive figure approached the counter to take the key for the room. The receptionist apologized to the man and ran to you to tell you about a new guest you had to serve. You sighed, put the money in your small bag and quickly fixed your sloppy appearance. You sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for your client.

A tall figure stopped in the doorway, revealing the one. It was Blade, you recognized him immediately: he was one of the most bloodthirsty samurai in Japan, and, most interestingly, when he came to the brothel, he always asked to be served exactly by you. from empty talk to intercourse in the hot springs that were in the yard of the room where you always were. You did not dare to resist him, to express resistance, because you knew that the client's desire is the law for everyone.

Blade locked the door and walked towards ya, focusing on how the moonlight illuminated your figure, making you many times more attractive to him. he threw a katana away, took off his casa, placing it on the couch, and began to undress, starting with his shoes. when he was standing in only his underwear, sat down on the bed next to you, sighing heavily. apparently, he had a lot of adventures today.

"Rough day. I'm tired," he warned, placing his big hand on your thigh, squeezing it. it didn't take long before he picked you up in his arms, carrying you in hot springs. Today he looked annoyed.