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~The Beastman Mansion~

Part One: Into the Mansion

Written By: Phamyne Plaguox

Oliver: “Finally, I thought I'd never find this place." Turning off the engine, I pull up the safety break and lean over the passenger seat to rummage through my cubby hole. Finding the envelope packed with money, I hold it on my lap and look through my car's windshield at the rundown building ahead of me.

I'm parked in the middle of nowhere, in front of what most people would rightfully mistake for an abandoned building, but for those in the loop, they know that this structure is far from abandoned.

As I trace my thumbs over the crinkled envelope on my lap, the dirty motel sign above me flashes briefly before staying off long enough that I think it might have given up the ghost, but after another few seconds, it lights up and shows just how much grime the water damaged sign has collected over the years.

After two hours of driving, I had turned off the N61 and made my way through so many twisted dirt roads that it felt like I was looking for the best way to get lost, but I've finally found the building my friend called: “The Beastman Mansion". While the motel before me is anything but a “Mansion", it is much bigger than any of the off-road inns that I've seen before.

The double storied building is stylised in a typical motel fashion. It has an inward facing “U" shape, many bedrooms lining the railed walkways on both the bottom and top levels, and a large, and currently completely empty, parking lot at its centre. While the entrance before me would suggest that this place is your typical “One night stand motel where hookers are killed and addicts dwell", I did catch a glimpse of a longer and much bulkier section of the building that seems to extend behind the structure.

I'm not sure if exhaustion from driving for so long was making me see things, but the section behind the building appeared to be constructed long after the motel itself, and with how rundown this place looks, the more I realise that the rugged appearance is a purposeful front to try and hide the true nature of what goes on behind these walls.

Sighing out, I look towards the wooden doors of the entrance. The paint on them is peeling and they all but screaming of the rodent problem within. Other than the pylon sign flashing in intervals, the only other light is shining above this doorway, and while it's a relief to know that this place isn't completely abandoned, the flickering lights are almost spooky enough to make me reconsider entering the building.

Oliver: “A-am I really going to do this…?" It's not that I've never had sex with a complete stranger before, but the thought of walking inside, paying, and then picking out who I want to spend however many hours I can afford with is… It doesn't just make me feel like I'm about to pick men from a catalogue as if I were simply acquiring new car parts, but it leaves me a little bit shaken.

Despite how nervous I am, my excitement far outweighs my anxiety. Hell, if I really didn't want to do this, I would have gone back into my apartment the very moment that I saw on my GPS how isolated this place is.

I mean… It's kinda exciting to be doing this. I've never been to a brothel before, nor did I expect one to still exist in this day and age, let alone one dedicated entirely to gay men, but after Mathew told me about a whorehouse filled with hunking beastmen, how could I resist?

Despite him having given me a rundown of how things work here, I'm not entirely sure what to expect, and I guess that uncertainty is adding to my apprehension. Can I spend my time with multiple beastmen if the first guy doesn't work out? How would I even back out of something like that? Should I just try to be casual with him and say: “This isn't working for me, Imma head out"? They'd understand… Right? Clients want their money's worth after all.

Sighing once more, I look towards the rundown building and question if this is really a good idea or not. Clenching the envelop in my hands, I look down at it and feel my expression falter. I was saving this money up so that David and I could go on a vocation out of the country, and despite things ending badly between us, it feels a bit weird to be spending this money on sex…

Looking towards the entrance, I bite the inside of my cheek while recalling how Mathew explained that humans are charged half price here, and that “All the beastmen are total hotties~! Just go for it! Hopefully once you've gotten a hard dick shoved up that tight pucker of yours, you'll finally be able to get over that asshole ex of yours!". Pfft, damn fox. Why do they always seem to be so incredibly slick with their words?

I'm not sure if it's Mathew's “Go rent a hooker" speech resounding in my head or the brain attached to the lower part of my body, but I find my courage returning, and after stepping out of my car and embracing the chilly desert air, I sigh for what I hope will be the last time tonight and look towards the half-broken doorway.

Oliver: “Alright. I'm ready." I just hope that Mathew hasn't tricked me and that I'm not about to stumble into some dingy gay bar where I'll be jumped, robbed, mugged, and then murdered by its patrons.

Walking with some hesitance, the moonless sky above and the water damaged walls surrounding me invoke a foreboding sense of unease, yet despite how my legs scream for me to turn around, jump back in my car, and never return to this creepy place, I push through my apprehension and strut through the doorway with a confidence I normally don't have, but as soon as I step inside, that assertion quickly falls away.

Upon entering what I can only describe as a seedy-back-alley bar, I instantly feel out of place. This is faaar from the type of establishment that I normally hang out in. The air is thick with the smell of dried sex, cheap alcohol, and street drugs. The interior looks just as rundown as the outside, and it's so dark in here that I'm starting to worry that my previous concerns about being jumped and raped by random men might just come true after all…

The room before me is a couple hundred feet wide from side to side and has a square shaped bar situated right in the centre of it. The bar itself is illuminated by dim lights, surrounded by stools, and doesn't look like it's gotten much use for a very long time. Filling the outer edges of this tavern-styled room are many banquette seats which look to be made from what was once leather, but with how faded, stained, and timeworn they are, the dinner-styled couches look more like something you'd find in an actual abandoned building.

There are very few lights around the room, most of which either illuminate the many doorways lining the walls, showcase just how crusty the peeling wallpaper is, or are shining down upon the equally ancient counter of the wooden bar. The only thing that assures me that this place isn't entirely uninhabited is that there are multiple dust covered bottles of alcohol behind the room's centrepiece.

I seem to be entirely alone, and as I realise this, some part of my brain tells me that I should hightail it now while I still have the chance, but before reason can outweigh lust, a coyote steps out from a backroom connected to the bar. He's wiping his paws with a cloth, but immediately notices me when he looks up.

???: “Why, good evening, fine sir." I blink in surprise, as not only is he dressed like a stereotypical butler, but he even sounds like one. And while the canine is completely out of place in such a grungy establishment, the realisation that he works here becomes evident as I hesitantly make my way towards the bar.

???: “My name is James, and I will be your host here at The Beastman Mansion." The coyote appears to be somewhere in his early thirties, is slightly taller than me, has well-kempt dark brown fur with lighter patches running along his face, down his neck, and across his paws, and smells just as surprisingly clean as what I had once thought a tacky countertop.

Oliver: “H-hi, uhm… I'm–" Before I can introduce myself, the canine raises a paw and shakes his head while smiling animatedly.

James: “Here at The Beastman Mansion, our clients do not have names, kind sir. Afterall, those who have never stepped foot in our humble establishment need no names to be recalled." Well… That's not at all ominous.

James: “Is this your first time with us, good sir?" Despite how friendly this guy is, he's not very good at emoting it. While there is something in the cadence of his voice that would suggest there is more to him than meets the eye, James has got such a bad case of resting bitch face that I can only assume working here must have drained all the life from him.

Oliver: “Uhm, y-yes, it is." The coyote nods his understanding with a welcoming smile that fails to reach his eyes.

James: “Very well then, allow me to inform you of how we operate." Straightening his back and gesturing with his paws, the canine recites his words as if he were a businessbeastman pitching a marketing idea.

James: “Here at The Beastman Mansion, our clients do not have names. While I would encourage using an alias for confidentialities sake, you are more than welcome to reveal your true identity to our residents if that is your prerogative. Not only can I attest that it shall never be spoken past these walls, but our residents will fully respect our clientele's anonymity to the fullest." Wow… Talk about modernising whoring. This guy is so professional that it almost sounds as if he might just try to sell me life insurance once he's done providing me with a prostitute.

James: “Each section of the mansion is divided into segments to help facilitate each of our client's desires. While in one area you might only find saurians, another will be filled entirely with canines, thus making it much easier for our clientele to locate specific residents." While I thought picking out who I want to fuck would be weird, hearing that everyone here is segmented into their own section somehow makes it feel even stranger…

James: “As you will find, the hallways are labelled accordingly, so if you wish to visit multiple species at the same time, please seek me out and inform me of your desires. I promise to accommodate you to the best of my abilities, good sir." I nod, and despite how uncomfortable my expression must be, James continues without skipping a beat.

James: “Violence is strictly prohibited here at The Beastman Mansion, and is only allowed through the consent of both our valued clients and the residents which they visit." His voice becomes a lot sterner with this, but before I can ask him about it, the coyote continues with a more amicable tone.

James: “Anything from narcotics to alcohol are very much welcomed here as we dare not deny any such pleasures to our clients, so if you require anything, you need only to ask. I can supply you with a catalogue containing any substance you could ever request." Wow, I guess the reason behind this place being so out in the sticks makes a little more sense now with how open they are to selling drugs. I mean… I could very well have been a cop for all he knew, but James is freely offering me narcotics as if we were at a frat party.

James: “Once you have donated to The Beastman Mansion, you will then receive a pass befitting of the donation you contribute–" Before the coyote can continue with his spiel, I finally find a chance to interrupt him.

Oliver: “Uhm… Donation?" James smiles apologetically and then continues with the same fluidity as before.

James: “We here at the Beastman Mansion are happy to accept donations to help assist us in maintaining our fine establishment, but it is not required for your visit. However, clients who donate to our cause are granted special access to otherwise restricted areas." Wow, this guy is beyond fishy. He couldn't be anymore more cryptic if he tried.

Oliver: “What I meant to ask is… How much is each donation?" James bows with a paw pressed to his chest and speaks in a softer tone.

James: “My apologies, good sir. Please allow me to present you with our catalogue." The canine digs under the countertop for a short moment before pulling out a large hardcover book that looks suspiciously like something you'd be given in an automobile shop when buying car parts… Opening it to the first page, I find myself looking at a list containing different prices for each species.

Oliver: “How come humans pay half price compared to others?" While Mathew had already told me this before I came here, seeing it on paper makes it far too concerning for me to simply remain quiet.

James: “Ware and tare." The coyote doesn't explain further, and I find myself dumbly blinking at him. I'm not sure if James means to imply that bigger guys take more effort to get off, or if it has something more to do with the “Ware and tare" of body parts being stretching beyond capacity…

Shaking my head and trying to stop thinking about giant beastmen railing tiny humans, I turn my attention back to the book and scan the price list.

~Bronze Pass: $7000 Donation – Grants Two Hours of restricted access to some of the facilities of The Beastman Mansion~

~Silver Pass: $10,000 – Grants Four Hours of semi-restricted access to most of the facilities of The Beastman Mansion~

~Gold Pass: $14,000 Donation – Grants Eight Hours of unrestricted access to all the facilities of The Beastman Mansion~

Jesus… What's with these prices?? I mean… Shouldn't it cost more? I'm no expert on escorts and how much they charge, but these prices seem ridiculous!

I trace over the adjoined section which states that “Donations" are subject to change depending on the species and or size of the client, and I find the part where is states that humans, cats, some lizards, and most avians pay half price. I mean… I could pretty much get an eight-hour pass if I really wanted to, but who the hell pays for eight hours with a hooker? And if I get it, does that mean I'm signing up for eight hours of sex? I'm not sure I can fuck for that long…

Looking up at James with what feels like a mortified expression, I find him smiling politely and I quickly do my best to compose myself and take one last look at the page before retrieving the envelope of money from my pocket.

Oliver: “Uhm… I-I'd like to… Donate, for the Gold Pass, please." The coyote grins in delight and bows while taking the envelope from me.

James: “Thank you very much, kind sir. Know that all drinks are now on the house, so if you would be so kind as to take a seat, I will bring something to quench your thirst and then help guide you through our catalogue." Wow, James became even more formal after my donation, and while he still has a shifty look in his eyes, the canine seems overly eager all of a sudden…

Nodding, I decide to take the book with me and find a seat on the least scummy couch I can find. While I'm curious about what else the catalogue contains, I decide to leave it for a moment and take a look around the bar once again.

The image of this place is still very conflicting for me. I mean, their rates are pretty low, but surely they could make this establishment look less like a pigsty? It kinda reminds me of the sleazy type of bar you'd expect to find truckers frequenting. But perhaps that's what they were aiming for? No one would expect a brothel to be in such a rundown building, and even if they did, there are some loops for them to go through before actually getting to see the prostitutes.

Looking around the dimly lit room, I wonder if I'm the only customer for the day or not, as I seem to be the only person here. Perhaps regulars just come in, pay the fee, and then go through one of the many doorways lining the room? Before I can delve too deep into my thoughts, my attention is brought back to the present as the coyote sets a tumbler glass on the table and then bows.

James: “Apologies for the wait, kind sir, I was having some trouble with resetting the timer, but all is now well." At this, James hands me a palm sized device. It appears to be some type of analogue stopwatch. It's completely golden and has a big “8:00:00" on the face with two buttons adorning the top.

James: “Now, once you have made your decision and chosen a section to explore, the timer will start its countdown. When it expires, the resident with which you are visiting will allow you ten minutes to conclude your meeting before escorting you back to the foyer." Sheesh, talk about a business deal. That actually sounds really awkward. Imagine being in the middle of fucking and then all of a sudden, the “Resident" tells you to stop and get dressed.

James: “Would you like for me to assist you with perusing the catalogue? Or would you rather prefer a moment to yourself to decide who best strikes your fancy?" I grimace a little as he once more objectifies the prostitutes, but I guess this guy's been here long enough to have become desensitised to the point that all of this really is just a business transaction for him.

Oliver: “Uhm… No, thank you. Everything I need will be in this book, right?" James nods and then gestures to it with an open palm.

James: “Everything from eye colour to testicle weight." Despite having anticipated such statistics being in this book, hearing how information regarding their anatomy is laid out in black and white makes me blush.

James: “And allow me to inform you now that if you are unpleased with the resident with which you choose to visit, please do not feel obligated to continue your meeting if you are unhappy with their services. Our residents are fully aware of our policies and will go so far as to assist you with finding someone more suitable." Err… Could he make that sound any more awkward? But I guess I'm happy that he explained that part as I was a little nervous about it.

Oliver: “Thank you. I look forward to… Uhm, exploring the mansion." James grins in a way that makes a shiver run down my spine.

James: “I am most certain that our residents will be pleased to meet you and… Satiate your deepest of hungers, good sir." He bows once more before strutting back towards the bar without another word.

Oliver: “…" Well, that wasn't creepy at all. A sense of worry lingers as I watch the coyote behind the bar, but as he looks my way and smiles again, I nervously try to hide my discomfort by taking a big sip of what I now realise to be whisky and then awkwardly pick up the book and start flipping through the pages.

I guess I better make up my mind about who I want to visit first. I've got eight hours to have as much sex as I can, and now all I need to do is decide if I want to spend all of that that time with a single beastman, or many~

~Dragon Beastman~

~Wolf Beastman~

~Bull Beastman~