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Indebted, part two: Continuing from the shed after having been kidnapped into this strange world.

I woke up to the orange flare of the setting sun accompanied with the sudden shuffling of the locks in the door.

“we have 30 minutes before we need to go" said the black-armed werewolf who had come in, shutting the door behind him

“Here's the menu. You're charging category I rates." he said, holding a leaflet. “They're all intuitive, you shouldn't need that much guidance. You're obviously experienced."

I didn't complain. the earlier i got work, the earlier i'd pay off the debt. Maybe i'd want to escape in the future. It's about keeping doors open, really.

“If you ever feel unsafe, remember that there's the bell system. Doesn't matter, anyways, we'll be supervising you for the first few nights" he explained.

He walked to me and passed the menu to me. I saw three separate sections, each with a little grid breaking down each service and its prices in ascending order from category V to category I.

In the foreplay section, i saw massages and dances for sale, accompanied by other things. I'd have to charge about ¤80 per minute for the massage. It felt exorbitant, especially given Category V'd have to charge only ¤10 per massage session.

“We'll put 15% of what you earn towards your debt, and once paid, to your wage. The rest goes to keeping you safe", he explained. "It's dangerous for the public to see you, so you stay inside the brothel at all times."

"Wait, so you forced me here knowing it was so dangerous here?!" I asked him, finding my voice

“Well, not exactly dangerous if you follow our simple rules, but the outsiders are scared of humans", he said. “The police have orders to shoot on sight. They never enter the brothel… as part of their work."

“We're a specialty brothel in a way; humans are weird and exciting to our clientele", he said.

The straight-eared one walked in too, armed with a calculator. He came to the futon to accompany black-arms, making me feel slightly hemmed-in.

“If you make ¤500 per night, then…." he said, tapping away on his calculator. “You'll need about 400 nights in the brothel."

“If you somehow manage to make ¤1,000 per night, you'll only need 200 nights", he added.

Take the ¤500 and multiply it by 100 and multiply it by 4; that's ¤50,000, going into 5*4, 20, so… ¤200,000 in total, and only ¤30,00 to my debt!

“Isn't it unfair there's ¤200,000 in total?!", i said in a little shock

“Oh, but it's all for a good cause", he said. “Lawyers are expensive and the officers' demands for bribes only ever get higher."

“It's all in the contract you signed", said the black-armed one.

We left the shed, i wearing some kind of informal gown, and we embarked to the brothel, i in the tiny boot of the car.

---

It had quite an underwhelming façade. An unlit sign, “the spice restaurant (?$$ entry)" was affixed to a plain wall sitting above a door leading into a room filled the the acidic odor of cigarette smoke alongside quite a hefty spot of body odor.

Inside the dim room, i saw lavish furnishings, decorated in a seductory red and a diverse group of creatures loitering around. The room was much larger then you'd expect from the facade; it went well into the domain of the other houses on the street, hell, i could see the holes made in the walls of this house! Signs pointed every which way, pointing out the different categories. Category III was the closest one.

The gentle murmur of an anxious conversation between people filled the room, some conversations audible over the noise.

“How many days in are you?"

“20. It's so strange here."

“I would've figured. I've got 20 left."

“Of how many?"

“300."

We walked across the maze of hallways to category I's position, somewhat distant from the front door.

There were only 3 humans here, i included. We all seemed to be category I.

I was instructed to find a place in the category I seating area, in which a muscular hunk and a smaller, skinny human sat, accompanied by what seemed to be a Minotaur.

Joining me came my supervisor, the black-armed werewolf, who sat silently next to me.

"Er... hi?" I half-mumbled to who seemed to be my coworkers.

"Hi! You seem new!", said the skinny one. "i was begging to get a bit tired of Muscle Mike and Mr Troy here"

Those were silly names, i thought.

“How many days do you have?" asked the smaller human to me.

“At ¤1,000 per night, 200" i replied. "Maybe 400 though if i only get ¤500 per night."

“Oh, we hardly make any more then ¤900 on a good night. Think of ¤500 as a normal rate"

“I have 400 days here?!"

“Well… yeah, but…. not exactly", he said. "You'll be spending an extra month or so here putting money in the 'life bank' thing they have"

I did a quick mental calculation; take my 500 per night, find a tenth of it and a half of a tenth; 50 and 25, add them together, 75, multiply it by 10, 750, and multiply it by 3… er, thats 50, 50, and 50 first double, and then 50 and 25… so, er…

“¤225!" i blurted out.

“Not that much, right?" replied my skinny co-worker.

“Well then, how many days have you?" i asked, to distract myself from the meager amount.

“Oh, well, i decided to, to stay here" he responded. “It's a much simpler life here, you'll find."

“How long did you spend before that, then?"

“Well, i got 70 days for borrowing ¤5,000. It's been around 300 days, and i'm loving it!" he exclaimed. “I'm a lawyer. As soon as i began reading up on this case for someone's lawsuit, i was sold. Fuck lawyering!"

"And guess who's getting to be fucked every night? I even get paid!" he blurted.

“Oh, don't listen to him. you'll be sodomised for days on end. I hate it here." shaded the muscle-man. “you'll be begging to leave. Look at the the categories Vs and IVs. Do you see the tension in them? The desire to leave?"

I looked over at where he was gesturing, at the two banks of crowded seats filled with prostitutes anxiously tapping away, fidgeting away the time. Some played card games.

"I want to leave. I can just step out of the door right now!" cut through the air, from them.

“Not with your debt, you wont be able to. They'll kidnap you, possibly even send you to prison" warned a respondent. “You don't want to go there, no…"

“You're fucked, mate" muscle-man said. “Like, you're seriously fucked."

A werewolf walked through the corridor and to a very main-looking door; it looked far more extravagant then the one we had entered through, even from the inside. They unlocked a box and flipped a switch. The dim lighting suddenly changed as a warmer and redder compliment met it, the buzzing of the neon sign outside beginning its monotone tone. A bartender walked to the bar and began wiping down tables, rinsing cups, dusting surfaces, and a handful of other activities.

A smell of detergent washed through the room, overtaking the semen smell which had entered the air from the opening of the sex rooms.

A little clink as the lock keeping the main door closed released, letting it swing open to let a cold breeze run through the main room. I hadn't noticed how humid it had gotten as the dry night air came to meet us.

The first clients arrived second later, a line of about 14 of them matching up with the categories they wanted, cutting off to a more meager but still substantial rate. Eventually one came to our table. It was a hunk of a werewolf. He seemed to be a guy who might get sex very easily. Why was he here…? I wondered if he'd want the “chocolate sundae" or the “shower of gold", two menu items i dreaded. Kinky people tend to be willing to pay.

"If you want this guy, be gentle; its his first time", advised my black-armed supervisor.

“Finally, there's some new game here! Oh, it's been too long...", he said. “A massage and one anal dominance session, then."

A strange surprise that he wanted such a mild things. Maybe not, maybe i was his kink…?

I asked for my payment, a ¤75 for the massage and a ¤130 for the anal dominance session. They happily gave me the tired banknotes they hid in their pockets, with no reluctance to pay the full amount. Another strange surprise; he was willing to pay so much?

"Those are mine", the black-armed werewolf reminded me as soon as my new client passed them over. Not a single second in my fingers, either!

"Well, that's a good ¤205…", he said. “¤30 towards your debt."

We three ended up passing into the hallway to the sex room. "Get key 205. He likes it when the number matches the price. Careful to take from 'r' for ready; 'c' will be a filthy room."

Each number on the board had two hooks, the first labelled “c" and the second "r". I found 205 and took the r hook's single key.

"Would you mind me coming along?", asked my supervisor, to my client.

"I want to try this new flesh alone" replied my client, with an almost sultry tone.

"Ok then, just remember to remind him how you like it. He's a little underripe", said my supervisor, hinting.

We walked together through a maze of hallways, the numbers increasing slowly. We ended going up about two floors and popping onto a room just a few metres from the door, which i unlocked. We walked in, turning on the light and guided him to the bed in the center.

"You should have talked to me in the hallway", he complained.

“Also, why isn't it the intimacy light that's on?", he said before hitting a switch which turned the room a seductive red.

“Well then, on with the damn services" he commanded. “Rub my shoulder blades. Deep. I worked too much last night."

He lay on his front on the bed and took a few deep breaths. I too, took a breath. I'd already fucked up!

I thought some small talk could have been something he wanted, so as i moved in to rub his shoulders, spreading lube on my hands, i said “Oh, where do you work to get such laaaaarge muscles tired?"

My hands made contact with his shoulders as i squeezed and teased the skin. He was already moaning, just a little moans so far.

“Oh, as an-, an-, an innskee-, oh, that's the spot, an innskeeper", he said, a little irritation in his voice.

“Oh, and what do you do…?" i pinged back as i dug my thumbs into a little piece of muscle just above the shoulder-blades. Let's push that irritation out, yeah?

“Save the, th-, th-, the talking for th-, oh, oh, OH, the hallways" he more annoyingly pinged back.

I shut my mouth as i continued moving my hands around, finding new muscles to push into.

“Go for the, ow, ow, OW, the legs now" he said.

I did just that as he sat up on the bed. I knelt to access his great, thick legs. These werewolves always had such thick legs.

“Oh, that must be a lot of standing you do for such great legs", i complimented.

“Oh, of course. They work us so hard. Well, not really us, really just me because i'm the only guy who really runs the place at night, you know, turning on washing machines and organising the shift transfer, oh it's so much!" he rambled as i moved my hands teasingly close to the carpet of hair. “And yeah, it pays well but i'm always so tired in the morning. You try carrying 300 bedsheets in one bag! It's so damn diff- diff- oh, oh, harder!"

I'd struck a nerve. Well, two.

I began massaging the muscle in the strongest way i could. It made my palms hurt and i had to stop.

“Oh, don't stop there! Are you humans really that weak?!", he complained. “Eh, whatever. What i want you to do now is to dominate me"

“Dominate… you?" i replied, a little shocked.

“I didn't pay you for nothing. Come here and have your way with me." he commanded. “Make me your slave. Make me yours. Make me small"

He shifted to expose his arse for me to enter. His boner was on full display, waiting for me.

I grabbed a hefty bit of lube and spread it around my finger. I slowly rubbed it around his opening, making sure to tease him, to get him on fire like black-arms did to me in the shed. Oh, how they had accidentally trained me!

I took a condom and put the lube on my dick, helping me roll down the condom to cover it.

I kept pushing, entering the cavity slowly, sending him on a high, his ass contracting around my finger. It almost sent tingles into me as i navigated to his prostate like a cruise missile, trying to find the perfect movement.

I started rubbing him. I stopped and started, keeping him on the brink.

He let out a little moan. “Stop teasing me, on with the show!"

No, i'll keep you here. He moaned louder and louder as i kept finding ways to shake up what he got used to. He was obviously loving it, getting his money's worth. Yeah, that's what i see.

My finger tired. I began to have the actual dick-sex, grabbing his legs, teasingly rubbing the calves, slowly taking the tip of my erect dick and making little circles using just my pelvis to maneuver it.

“Oh, you little slut, you paid to be dominated" i teased as i pushed through. He winced a little.

I moved back and pushed forwards, the friction letting my glans out to experience the full experience inside his ass again and again, each push driving me on my own high as i aimed straight at his prostate, fighting it in a deeper and increasingly intense series of pushes.

He let out a little moan, slowly growing in volume with each thrust, encouraging me to open my mouth too to let out my own moans.

Every thrust was just a little deeper, a little more intense.

“Oh, how could you be so weak?" i said as i continued dominating him. "A big manly werewolf, huh? Dosen't seem like it!"

He moaned louder. He loved being teased, and i, equally, began to find pleasure in teasing him as we got closer.

“Get me off, get m-, m-, rub m-, my di-", he said. I grabbed his shaft and started rubbing it, rendering him further speechless.

“Oh, a big manly werewolf like you can't even handle a little bit of simulation, you must be PATHETIC!" i teased.

Eventually, the rythmic thrusting and stroking of his dick made him start squeezing his juice-parts involuntarily.

“Oh, an orgasm, do we have? That was… quick" i said to him.

It kind of slowed him for a little second before he went back to getting ready to cum.

He came at the same time as i, his cum taking over his whole belly area, mine filling the condom.

And we stayed in each other for a little while, exhausted, breathing.

"3/10, could have been slower", he said as he caught his breath. Damn him!

---

Back in the main room, waiting for a client to come over to the table and request me, i heard heavy footsteps upstairs, reverberating throughout the whole of the main room. They didn't sound like ordinary footsteps for those who'd be in the sex rooms, no, they were intense. Like, kind of enraged.

The stairs creaked and through the main hallway came a werewolf of impressive stature. His body was plump and tense, a tight potbelly providing a kind of foundation for his scowling face, a scar for one of his eyes.

He was holding in his hands a confectionery bar. I could barely read it, but i managed to read some of the words through his fingers; "Hem", "at", and "gen". He stared at some point between me and black-arms, a mad glare burning into our bodies just from the reflection on the couch.

"You two, from category I!"

A pause.

"You two; the supervisor and his dumb little whore, damn you! UP!"

We two were walked to a sex room behind him. He turned on the light but fumbled and turned on the different, redder, kind of light.

"Fuck, wait"

He switched to the clinical white light.

“I've heard complaints from our most valuable client that you have no quality! None!"

The black-armed werewolf was just as shocked as i about this whole thing, his mouth kind of agape and a little dread locked in behind his eyes.

"That 45% cut you're getting? You're supposed to be getting good clients for me! I see your fourth bad client so far!"

He ripped off a little clump from the snack bar he was holding and chewed on it, glaring at us two. He swallowed with quite a gulp.

"New kid - you need to be trained, like, properly!"

The angry werewolf shifted his glare to the black-armed one.

"And you, do better next time. That 45% is not going to be 45% if you're so shit at your job! Off, now, softshark!"

The black-armed one stood up. I, with the growing terror, stood up too.

As we walked to the door, i saw him walk off to the bar.

Pushing past the staff-only doors, into the grimy hallways again.

“Why was he so angry?", i asked

“Oh, he's just like that. Power corrupts, i guess", he said. A pause. “Well, he's also one of the main clients and brings quite a hefty sum…. that could play a part."

“Oh", i replied.

We walked down the hallway in a kind of awkward silence, a bit disillusioned from the stern telling-off. My thoughts drifted again. He was just eating a sweet, wasn't he? It did look kind of reddish and brown, though. Was it really a sweet?

"What was he eating?" i asked, curious.

"Oh, just an imported good" my supervisor dismissed.

"Yes, but which?"

"One from your world"

"Which part of it?"

"dunno"

“What's its name?"

“gehmatohjen, very iron-y, texture like toffee. I'm pretty sure it has blood in it"

I retched a little at that statement. Blood and sweets do not mix, at least not in my culture.

He noticed and he made a little comment "Wait until you see him with his black sausages! They're made of the same stuff as his 'oil of life' cocktail he's so fond of!"

I knew nothing about the cocktail but i knew the one thing about black sausages.

We had reached my room of beds. He sat next to me.

"Don't ever turn on the main lights", he explained.

"It's the closest light switch, though", i said.

“Well, go for the further one, then."

“Yes, but the logical one is the closest one; less effort for more intimacy!"

"But it's the wrong one" he said with a little hint of amusement at his own witty comment. “Well, let's move onto the actual training. It'd be a shame to evict you onto the street. You'll die quite quickly without us!"

“I'll go get the expert. You sit tight!" he said as he stood to leave, locking the door.

Only now did i take the time in myself to process my situation i had found myself in.

I imagined a little scenario; i running out of the brothel. I'd be lost in their society. And then, i thought, the policemen would run up to me and shoot me. I'd die instantly outside. We're rare here. That's the only reason such a frail person as i is even in category I, i'm sure.

My fantasies turn out to have strings attached!

Oh, how i do remember home! Such a complicated place, having to provide for one's-self through such a wide manner of ways and methods. How could that be the place i was born?

No, i give up. Here, i think, is a simpler life, in the midst of my fantasies and making a living. Why would i want to return to that damned place?

---

I heard foot-steps approaching and the door unlocked. To my surprise, straight-ears walked in, holding one of the menus.

I was a little shocked. “You…? I thought you were just the, y'know nerd…?"

“Well, er, mostly, i like money, but my libido grows and grows and it needs to go… somewhere. Here." he replied.

“Right then, let's run over what each service is. It was dumb letting you out without knowing, in retrospect", he said as he sat down. “You'll earn more money once you can manipulate the ropes."

“First, starters. Your client can choose any from here. Let's start with the massage.", he said.

“It really is quite simple; take the lube and spread it on your hands like this", he said as he dropped a few drops and spread them on his hands.

“Take them onto your client, too", he said as he grabbed my legs and put some cold lube on it. He rubbed and it sent tingles down me. I was still very touch deprived and every little movement of his fingers sent tingles down me.

“Now, what you need to do is rub. Look at your client and find the just right amount of pressure", he said as he started making me melt in pleasure from his magic hands. It was an odd thing to get off to, especially after dominating our unsatisfied client.

“See, with the right technique, anything's possible! Earn that damn cash!"

“Now, you try on me", he said, suddenly stopping his magic rubbing.

I took some lube and spread it on his legs. I found his calves and began massaging them, taking the muscle and holding it between my fingers. He had quite a bit of muscle, being a werewolf bigger then me, and i took the time to use my delicate, intricate hands to make intricate movements over his leg. He'd love it!

“Yeah, that's the spot", he said.

“Just keep massaging the area. Remember to always keep moving. They like it more when you keep them going."

I continued for a little while longer. My fingers began tracing a little series of complicated patterns, combing his now-moist hair in new and exciting ways.

“Ok, you should stop now. We've got, like, 5 other damn items to cover."

“Ok, so the reverse massage. Basically the same but you let the client touch you wherever he wants. Remember, no body part in the brothel is sacred!"

“Oh, the stripping; just be extra slow and sensual when taking off your clothes, a bit like this" He stood and showed me what he meant. He wasn't wearing much to start with, but he was still careful to be sensual. He took off his pec-straps slowly, shaking his nipples in the process. It turned me on a little more, as he then slowly took of his underpants. He was incredibly slow on taking them off, careful to reveal his love-organ teasingly. It was slightly erect.

“And that's how you should do it… just slower. You'll be wearing more clothes", he said. “ Just let them feel the skin you reveal, if they want."

“Spooning is also common; just lie in bed and kind of…, er, kind of…" he pushed me into the bed and nestled up behind me. I felt the tip of his member gently bouncing, knocking against my buttocks. He kind of thrust awkwardly. “Yeah, just thrust at your client like this. Make sure to run your hands over them. Werewolves are chronically touch-deprived, hint hint."

He ran his hands across my back, making me kind of tense up as the tingles hit. And then i relaxed as i felt them wash into the rest of my body, sending yet more of his all-too-pent-up energy into me.

“Most other menu items are very self-intuitive, just read their description", he said. “Let's move onto the main menu items."

“Ok, so the handjob is very easy", he said as he wrapped his hand around my dick. “You humans have better hands, so this will be the most popular option for you."

He began teasing the shaft, rubbing at it with his hand. “And you just rub up and down like this, kind of"

I suddenly tensed and de-tensed as the pleasure of a foreign hand on my dick struck hard again. Oh, how amazing it felt to feel this kind of slow sex, this kind of gentle gay fornication.

He stopped suddenly.

“Well, that's only one item. Plenty more!"

“Ok, so there's what we call the…. the Wrench Cross. You sit next to the client, get intimate", he said, sitting up and budging up against me, his big thigh threatening to push mine so far into the mattress i'd need a bus ticket to reach it. He wiggled it a little just to send tingles down me, to tease me.

“And what you do is you reach over, kind of like…", he said, reaching over to grab my dick, i doing likewise in recognition of what the cross was.

“And you kind of rub at the same time; it's about pleasure from causing pleasure, mainly."

“Match your client's style, it makes them go high", he said, slowing down and causing me to slow down in implementation of his advice. “You lea-, lea-, learn quick!"

He moaned slightly. He was obviously taking more then a businesslike level of pleasure from this training.

“Well… ok, well… er, that's enough", he said, pulling away from my dick.

“You see, our menu really isn't that hard to understand, just keep the client's pleasure high on your priority list; your life depends on it, kind of. Wouldn't want an eviction, right?"

“Well, on that note, let's look at the spicier things."

“First, bondage: really simple, take the ropes, and wrap them around your client. Or the other way around. They can teach you the knots they like used. There are a lot of knots!", he said, grabbing onto me. He wrapped a cord around my body, taking care to touch me in ways that sent tingles down me. He wrapped the cord in some special way around my arms and shoulders, forming a kind of inspan around me.

“Now, what we have here is a basic shoulder harness. If you just loop it around the wrists, kind of like, like…", he said, grabbing onto my wrists and pulling a loop of chord. I felt the knot tighten. “Kind of like this, we now have an arm restraint, and if we kind of, grab the dick, like this…"

He grabbed my dick and began rubbing it. I moaned as my hands couldn't do the writhing they wanted to do to displace the energy.

“And just like that, we've intensified their experience! See?"

“Plenty more left, though. Quite a few involves a pair of prostitutes, so we can skip over those."

I didn't know we had to collaborate. That feels weird but makes a lot of sense.

“Oh, anal domination! I heard you had it requested"

“Yeah, it really is quite simple, dominate them and make them feel weak and small. They go crazy for it!"

“What's next, oh, there's sleeping, yeah."

“So, it's like spooning, but without the action; just hold onto them as they lie in the bed. Or the other way around."

He took my body and pulled it into the bed. He grabbed onto me and held me tight. It was comfortable, being held up to this mass of… creature.

“See how the client is controlling you? That's what they love. Or the other way around, just make sure to size up to them."

“Oh, some of them are so lonely they come here every night, to sleep. They make a fortune… for us, i mean."

“Well, we can't sleep now, the night still looms large. Let's end with a bang. We can look at other orders later."

“So, say, a client was really rich and wanted to have a nice big night. So, they order the massage, hand-job, and anal session for themselves. They end with the spooning, too, and kind of want to have the room to themselves to sleep the night. Big money, that'd probably get you ¤1,000 when you count in the other sessions. Money is good; get as much as you can."

He paused a little as he got into position on the bed.

“Do the legs, oh, and the stomach. Yes, the stomach. Tease me, get me going for the hand-job."

I took the lube and began to rub my hands across his calves again. I took care to go deeper, though, slower and more intense, wiggling my fingers to give a fuller experience.

“If they moan, you're doing a good job, remember!"

He resisted moaning, i could tell. He wanted to make it hard on me. He was an asshole in that way, maybe, i guess. Eh.

I continued rubbing, deeper. I slowly stopped at the ankles and moved up to the thighs. I took care of the masses of flesh, finding ways to send him moaning. Oh, he did just that! Oh, nobody can resist with me! Beep beep, coming through to give you pleasure!

I tickled his ball-sack as i moved up to his stomach. I found him moaning at every touch, his dick starting to shoot up high like a bouncing flagpole, a drop of precum a beautiful flag of surrender as he gave into my magical hands. I was going to be a good prostitute, i swear!

“Rub my dick already!" he half-moaned, half-screamed, commanding me.

I instead took my hand and wrapped the viscous precum around my finger. I licked the salty, musky broth up, a potent aphrodisiac. I wanted more, and the only way i'd get that is from him. So i kept it in my mouth, sitting there, a sticky broth making my mouth horny.

I took my hand and wrapped it around the hard shaft. I very slowly started moving up and down, teasing him. I used my left hand to take grabs at his thigh, trying to send tingles into his brain. At one point, i had the left hand trace wrinkles of his ballsack, a pleasure prune i was glad to touch.

He moaned so loud as i slowly sped up, trying to take him to new heights. His pleasure was my one goal and focus, the one thing i was working towards.

Oh, i rubbed so hard.

He began breathing heavier, moaning harder and harder, preparing for a big release. He had been saving it up for a while now.

“Stop, let's move to anal now."

We shifted position. I stood to get ready to penetrate him.

“Wrong way around, whore."

I lay on my back on the bed and i watched as he grabbed a condom and some lube. He put some lube in the rubbery baglet, rolled the condom down, and doused the outside in lube. He then took his finger and glided it around the rim of my arse. He abruptly pushed the digit in and massaged the insides, finding the prostate and rubbing away at it, looking for a genie in the bottle, knocking at it to come out.

Oh, how it did come out! This tingling sent me on edge. My dick was erect and my insides were all waiting for more intense stimulation. I felt as his finger probed about inside, incessant, teasing. It missed the prostate several times, but that just added to the fun.

After a few teasing minutes, he left and used the tip of his dick to touch my entrance.

He rubbed himself against my ball-sack, a place of plentiful nerves, sending me onto edge. And he slowly, sensually, seductively traced his way down to my areshole. My taint was being hit by the cold of the lube at the tip of his member, but also the very strong tingles he was sending. Oh, he knew just what he was doing! I moaned loudly as he hit my rim. And positioned just there, in the dent, he was building up energy for the push… getting ready.

It smelt like lube and rubber in here, but i could also smell his ballsack, his body, his musk. It turned me on and i felt myself contract in anticipation for him. We had done so much before this beautiful moment and i kind of wanted this knife's edge of pleasure to stay, me on the great in-between, between pleasure and nothingness, between raw, unadultered euphoria and the tension of waiting.

He pulled back before he suddenly pushed at full force into me. I felt my rim part ways as it gave way to the rubber-covered shaft, taking over my insides in an almost painful process. It felt amazing, though, the way his shaft could just find these new positions, these new angles, the way to get my prostate sending my flying.

I had no choice but to moan as he continued beating me. He got quite rough, pushing and pulling at ever greater speed and intensity. What if i were to die here, from some kind of anal rupture and internal shitting as a result?

But all he did was clasp his arms around my waist, gaining more control over me.

“You're mine" he growled at me as he got more and more intense.

I tried to rub my dick but it was rendered impossible by the shaking he was hitting me with.

“Oh, little human can't even rub his dick because i'm such a dominator!"

He made me moan, using the power he demonstrated over me to keep me his.

I detensed as i let myself give in fully to him, becoming nothing more then his sex toy. If this is what prostitution is about, sign me up!

He got more and more intense until suddenly, he slowed down to half speed, just as i was approaching an orgasm. Just a second later, i realised why. I felt little vibrations as the semen came to fill the rubbery confines of the condom. My dick, too, on edge, took this as the sign and i felt the contractions as i came, too. It sent itself all over my chest.

“Oh, the little human made some cum! Eat it!", he said. He took his finger and mopped up the white liquid, tickling my chest. He put it into my oral cavity and i sucked on it. Anything for my “client", even a few loose, dirty hairs.

Eurgh.

He stayed inside me some time after. I felt my ass was complete with him inside. It filled in a space i hadn't known was vacant.

He breathed heavily as he slumped a little. We were together now, connected like a USB charger, and he had just run low on charge!

Eventually, we took a tissue and cleaned up the rest; we left the bigger messes for the cleaning team.

“And that's, that-, that's how you do prostitution!" announced my “client" with a triumphant blare.

“And now, the 20 minute spooning", i said.

“Yes; remember, leave after th-, the 20 minutes. Your time is VERY valuable!", he said in an almost drunken stupor from the orgasm i gave him.

We got into the bed and i was the little spoon. He kind of twitched and squeezed me. He sent tingles down me with the way he held me. He was the best thing to sleep with, almost a reverse teddy-bear. He kept me comfy and warm.

---

We ended up falling asleep and not realising it till we saw the rays of mid-day sunlight beaming through the window.

“Well, that was longer then 20 minutes", my big teddy bear spoke to me. “I've got quite the bit of accounting to do, you know, the morning and all that!"

He stood and left me to this room. It stank; the used condom in the uncovered bin, untied, the musk of straight-ears, who had just left, and the dusty bed.

That's a mess for the cleanup crew. I grabbed the hook and put it onto the “c" mode; “clean this up", i presume.

I went into the main room. It was quite a contrast; i, barely dressed, and everyone here in street clothes.

Black-arms noticed first. He ran off to some place in the staff area and came back with some clothes.

“It's not night; who are you impressing?!"

I put on the clothes.

“Breakfast in 20 minutes!" announced the bartender over the ruckus. The bawdy bodies here were playing card games against one-another, checkers, anything to pass the time for tonight. It was notably emptier then it was the night before; surely, some had left to spend their cash.

Soon after engaging in a game of go fish against my human co-workers, breakfast was called.

We were taken through a series of staff-only hallways and into the cafeteria. At each table, we all got the same food, in different rations; i a meager helping of potatoes, rubbery steak, and some vegetables. The werewolves around me, though, had more steak then anything, the vegetables and potatoes more like a seasoning then anything else.

I should have expected we'd be given institution food.

A few minutes after i had entered an entertaining conversation with muscle Mike (well, that's just his nickname, we don't use real names; there's a risk in real names), the end of dinner was called.

Quite a few of the prostitutes left the building. Black-arms told me it was because about half of them had an outside job they were using to pay off the loan better. Muscle Mike said the other half ran off to enjoy the city. There were a lot of sights, black-arms told me. One day, he might take me out in a bulletproof car to go on a whistle-stop tour, if i earnt enough.

Everyone was busy here, even on the mornings. Straight-ears was probably attacking a spreadsheet and figuring out how to get money properly moved. Black-arms was busy supervising us to make sure we'd be good. Humans were very valuable, apparently. The ones at the brothel the only ones who were living, in the entire city of one million; A handful were at display at the museum to show the werewolves where they came from.

Yellow-hair was taking a gym day.

We were the few who were idle. I wondered the brothel at one point, followed from a distance by black-arms.

There was a lesbian and straight section to the brothel; the three were connected by the sex-rooms hallway. Of course, every sexuality was separated into their own batch of sex rooms, but the accommodation section and food sections were shared. A single cafeteria for all. I managed to glance at the time-table; lesbians first, straights after, gays last. Hey!

It was a very large brothel. Going for a walk around its grounds proved to be a very exercising ordeal. There was a courtyard in the center. Well, not so much a courtyard as a street blocked off on two sides by some wooden buildings connecting into the rest of the brothel. Black-arms said it was a safe place.

I did see other humans; one straight man, two straight women, and three lesbians.

Turns out that before lunch each day, they'd meet and talk in the dormitory. But black-arms would always take care to supervise us, for werewolves knew how powerful a species combined could get, their history being owed to a band of just 5 werewolves. The werewolves came from a failed experiment down in Florida in the 1800s, and somehow managed to run off and develop this whole society from it.

But the 8 humans did form quite a strong bond. They loved to talk about what happened the night before, the interesting things. Apparently, there was a bar fight and one of the category IVs died in the lesbian section. There was a lot of blood, but the manager spilt his cocktail, tripping over them, so that formed a large part of it.

The lawyer, Skinny Joe, as we called him, told us that not much happens in the straight brothel. It's the smallest wing, after all.

Anista (from “nih'sta", from “nightstand", from “one night stand"), one of the straight women, reminded me who we were supposed to protect. We needed the brothel to protect us from the outside. If it died, we'd die pretty soon after. Keeping management happy was quite paramount.

The first lesbian, as a related note, noted that she was hearing plans for a long-term strike spreading in her section of the brothel. It'd bankrupt the place if the idea spread across all three things. The police, unpaid, might just do a raid against the brothel.

And i've just heard that the werewolves whisper through the thin walls of the dormitory at night, and the whispers spread between wings.

The end (of part two; stay tuned to hear if the strike is stopped!)

---

Some notes:

• If you want, the fomula to calculate days for a certain debt is debt/(money per night*0,15)

• The werewolves are not to be given names but nicknames. The brothel-specific names, as given by the manager are as follows:

• “black-armed" ? “softshark"

• “straight-eared" ? “nerd"

• “yellow-haired" ? “slightly competent"

• Remember what happens

• The lesbians here have formed an incredibly strong social group. They've learnt to protect themselves from the shit the world throws at them . Keep that in mind.

• The lesbians also happen to be teaching the humans how to stay safe.

• Yes, the werewolves are night birds!