FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The fun part, Iris reflected, was the payoff. The work was work, but the payday was always the good part.

"Hey Ms. B!" That was Carlos, the lead tech on this job. "Payday, and a big one. What've you got in mind for that fat check?"

"Now now, Carlos," she scolded with a grin. "A lady never tells her secrets." The gopher shook his head and turned back to his console, guiding the probe through another careful section of seafloor.

To be honest, she wasn't comfortable enough with any of her coworkers to divulge her plans for this paycheck. Or what she'd been saving the last three for, either. It was a very, very large bank balance that she was holding on to, and all of it was going to one place.

A friend had recommended the service, one of the few friends who had learned about her secrets. She was understandably careful letting people know her... thing.

The day finished out as most of them had, handing over the control of the probe to the next month's crew, and riding the transport up. It was a long ride, especially since they had to take it slow for pressure changes, but coming up from Abyss station was one of those journeys that came with a hell of a view. The submarine wasn't a passenger model, but it was still equipped with some windows, and the infinite darkness of the deep sea glittered with strange lights and even stranger shadows. Iris liked the ride, both ways, even if she only saw it a few times a year. Crews stayed down for a month, no more, and a minimum of two months on the surface between. Very few people went back down as soon as they could. Tight quarters and the stress of kilometers of seawater overhead took a toll.

The water started to lighten, just a tiny bit at first, but faster and faster as they rose lazily through the ocean. All told, the trip took somewhere close to eight hours. Could have been done in far less, if there were a medical team standing by (there was) and a real emergency to warrant it. In this case, though, there was no need to rush, and so they didn't.

The rise was done, and they docked with the control ship, a converted aircraft carrier that served as the hub for Central Pacific Research. There were a dozen stations monitored and kept in communication by the CPRS Persephone, and it was also the transit hub for their entire operation. Which meant that the flight deck never really stayed quiet for long, and it was very easy to catch a ride to shore from one of the endless string of supply shuttles.

From Guam it was a much longer leg of her trip, and she spent the first part of it arranging for a place to stay in Boston, but after that was plenty of time to sleep. Or would be, if she could. Sleep evaded her, and despite the cabin's comfort, she only dozed fitfully, mind busy winding itself in circles around her plan. Plan. Calling it that gave it too much credit. Sure, she'd researched the company exhaustively, applying the same rigor to that as her data-mining the ocean floor. And she'd planned the money angle as well. How much for which things.

That left actually doing it.

That was the part that made her sweat, and panic so hard she couldn't breathe. She wasn't at all sure she'd go through with the whole thing. Or even start it.

Boston at three in the morning wasn't much different than any other city at that hour. The pace had slowed down, but cities never really slept, and public transit, automated to the point that drivers weren't even needed, simply kept their timetables. The airport was only seeing a few buses at a time, but it was only about twenty minutes before the one she was waiting for arrived. Then another forty odd minutes to get to the hotel.

Transitioning from the bus to the hotel was the first time she had actually been outside a heated structure so far, and the bite of October cut right through her jumpsuit. After a month of carefully controlled climate, actual weather was a bit upsetting.

The hotel lobby was nearly empty, of course, aside from a couple of folks chatting over coffee at the desk. The clerk and a guest, it looked like, though the rather casual friendliness of the conversation argued that they knew each other well enough. The clerk, a dalmatian in a neatly pressed shirt and slacks, checked the screen to his left.

"Iris Barstow, I presume?" His voice was a nice baritone, a bit deep for his slender frame, and had that pleasantly growly tone to it that most male canines tended to share.

"That's me, yes. Room ready?"

"Actually, there's been a slight hiccup. You do have a room reservation waiting for you, but it's not with us. In fact, the car should be showing up shortly."

Iris was tired, jet-lagged, and out of sorts, and now there was a mix up? But whatever it was involved a car service at least. A sleek black sedan, pulling up to the curb. The dog gestured her to it, and went back to his conversation, the other dog laughing as she let the door close behind her.

"Miss Barstow? Please get in. My name is Leo." A bit of a joke since the scruffy young man was clearly a Jaguar. "Any bags? No? That's fine, works out just as well. Seats are heated, so just relax, we'll get you to your accommodations in short order."

The warm seats and quiet ride had her nearly asleep before the tell-tale descent into an underground lot pulled her from her doze. "Told you it wouldn't be long, Miss Barstow. I'll escort you up."

The garage was mostly empty, and Leo had parked the car near the elevator bank. His key opened one of them, and up they went. She wasn't sure how far, it was very hard to tell in modern elevators, as smooth and steady as could be. When the doors opened out onto a bland little foyer, with a door ahead, and one to either side, the driver stayed in the elevator.

"Yours is the left. The first time you palm the sensor it will register your biometrics, and key the room to you. Room service menu is on the nightstand, and any consumables request can be handled quickly. We're staffed all night long, so just make the call. But you're tired, so go get some sleep."

He pressed the close button, and the elevator slid soundlessly away, leaving Iris alone with her thoughts. Or the sluggish, exhausted things that pretended to be thoughts, anyway. She pressed her palm to the panel and waited while it processed her vein pattern, fingerprints, and assorted other details, then clicked open with a reassuringly heavy thunk. Solid locks always made her feel safer.

The room was lavishly appointed, with a huge bed and sitting area, a panel screen that took up half the wall, and a small kitchenette in one corner. The bathroom was just as good, with an actual bath tub, a huge improvement over a month of high efficiency recirculating showers. If this was like any other big hotel, it had its own reclamation and recirculation system, so taking a long shower wasn't likely to raise any eyebrows. Good.

She stripped her jumpsuit and bra off and just flopped on the bed, out in minutes.

There wasn't a handy timepiece when she woke up, but the shadows and sunlight said late morning, and she wasn't going to argue. Between the weird hours of travel and the chaos that her internal clock had been subjected to, it was going to take days to reset. Which was fine, she didn't have any pressing business.

She really wanted a shower, but she had only the one set of clothes right now, and changing back into dirty clothes didn't appeal. Best of two bad choices, she showered anyway. She could always do it again later.

So project one was getting a small wardrobe together for her stay. There were clothes in her apartment, but that was in Hong Kong, not really accessible right now.

She ordered breakfast from the panel screen on the nightstand, and had just finished getting her jumpsuit back on when it arrived at the door. Less than fifteen minutes and delivered by hand. Not a bad looking hand, either. Unusual, though, most anthros were single species, hybrids were exceedingly rare. Still cabbits didn't look all that out of place, and this one had the cute, laid back lop ears half hidden in a silvery fall of hair, sleek black tail, and a jaguar's rosettes in white on black fur. Very easy on the eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Barstow. I'm Vanessa and I'll be your attendant for your stay with the Finest. First thing's first though, breakfast." She didn't carry herself like 'the help' though Iris wasn't sure how that stood out. The lady wasn't deferential, there wasn't that unmistakable customer service attitude. She was very much alert and attentive, but something seemed more 'on' than Iris was expecting.

But she was back out the door in a flash, leaving Iris to her own devices. Mostly eating, but also trying to form a plan for the day. Get clothes, get settled, try to make up her mind. Not a lot to worry about there, not a lot of time to spend. Which would leave her all sorts of time to tie her stomach up in knots before she even made the first call.

A touch to the nightstand pad summoned Vanessa again, to clear the remains of breakfast. "Alright, I'll send that on down to the scullery. Now then, unless I was misinformed, you came in with no luggage, just the clothes on your body and not a scrap else, am I right? Of course I'm right. So the next step for you is shopping, then probably a spa day, get you feeling like yourself again, whoever you want that to be."

None of which sounded bad to Iris. "I guess that's a plan, yes. I'm not familiar with the area though, so... where can a girl go to get some decent clothes?"

"I've got a few places in mind. Depends on what you want. You've got the pale skin, chestnut hair thing going on, you want to go grunge? Maybe live some late twentieth century chic? I know a place. There's also a gal I know doing great things with retro-Victorian if you want a little more maintenance and a lot more curvature. Or you can go with the clothier's choice option, which I recommend. Vanjaram is far and away the most gifted designer I've ever had the pleasure to meet. She can make this fur pattern look good, she can do anything."

The cabbit did look pretty nice, and while the outfit was probably at least distantly related to a service uniform, it had clearly been tailored to her body. Nothing seemed stretched, loose, or out of place, although Iris was being careful not to stare. She had a 'type' and Vanessa fit it close enough that Iris could swear a fairy godmother had set things up. If she believed in any such thing. As a scientist, not likely.

"Vanjaram?"

"Yeah, she's a clothier. Has a shop a couple blocks south of here. Short walk, though if that coverall is as thin as it looks, we'd better take a car. Or do you want to go window shopping in a mall or something?"

We? "Vanessa, what exactly is going on? You're clearly not just a maid or whatever, so spill it. What's the deal?"

"Huh. Usually takes at least three hours for people to catch that. Sharp eye, Miss Barstow. Alright then. As you'd have found out around the time we got to the street, your original plans have been derailed. Yeah, we know you were investigating the company. I work for Kuroko's Finest. You're in one of our suites, by the way. Complementary, we don't believe in excess extraneous charges."

"Wait what?How do you-"

"Know what you've been doing? We track traffic. And we have a department who just spend all day predicting things. So. We get a sudden surge of web traffic from a weird location. We ping it back, it's a research station. Low crew size, so we pick up the manifest- public records, by the way- and cross reference the names. We lay a selection on incoming passenger manifests to Boston- again, public records- and only one name crosses up. Iris Barstow. Ping, she has hotel reservations with one of the chains we have a great relationship with. No big thing to upgrade her to a complementary room. Your balance will have the refund for your hotel deposit by tomorrow, by the way.

"So we picked you up. My job, by the way, is to figure out what you're interested in, sort out what package works best for you, suits your wants and needs and budget, and after a day or two, hand you the information. So. Nothing illegal, some of it a little shady, some of it very intrusive but in our experience, and given what you were really researching about us, that's how you like it, isn't it?"

Iris had been wavering between angry, scared, and embarrassed throughout the play-by-play, and in any case, she'd been going redder and redder. She hated when she blushed, her face got all red and splotchy.

"How is this not illegal?!"

"Research staffing is posted on your company's records page. Incoming traffic has an origin stamp that can be backtraced. Passenger manifests are easily obtained. And when you logged in to our site the first time you agreed to our monitoring policy, and that built up a pretty interesting file on you. Which I have read, another thing you agreed to in that user agreement."

"So you're... the thing that your company thinks I want?"

"Not exactly. We're pretty confident, but part of my job is to find out for sure. As intrusive and shady as this all is, it really is all intended to give you the best experience we can give. And also to help keep cold feet from depriving you of a good time."

Which was, Iris understood, a real issue that might affect her. Part of her was already grateful that she wasn't being allowed to screw this up for herself. Which was probably also in their plan.

"Let me guess. You don't worry much about hooking potential dominant customers, but submissive ones tend to get skittish?"

"Got it in one. We have other concerns with potential dom customers. Background checks on them are much more extensive and thorough. They get a serious evaluation before they ever get to lay a hand on one of ours. And they have to be long-term good customers to take one home."

"So what now?"

"Well, nothing much has changed. We still need to get you some clothes, though I might be a little more pushy in what I suggest for you. Since you know what I'm about now and I don't have to toe the line quite as much."

Iris was still very less than sure she approved of all of this. And some of the details were simmering under the surface of her thoughts. Something was setting off all sorts of warning lights in her head, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Wait. You... you know what I was doing on your site?"

"Yep!"

"Everything?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, we know which spots you visited, which ones you revisited. We know which ones you," she paused with a playful little sigh, "lingered on. So, I have to ask, since I'm sure you have an opinion," Vanessa stepped closer, closer, until she could lean in and put her cheek against Iris'. "Did you enjoy what I did to Eve?" A soft, husky whisper. "You certainly watched that session a lot. Did you want to be her? Did you imagine my claws?"

Iris jumped at the prickle of sharp against her thigh and looked down at the cabbit's paw. Cat claws, needle sharp and retractable, barely penetrating the thin jumpsuit. Vanessa giggled a little, and stepped back, grinning. Sharp teeth, too, catlike. "You did, didn't you? And you're imagining them now. But I'm not allowed to caress someone with them until they've done the contract. So for now, why don't we go get you dressed and you can imagine them some more."

Iris realized she'd stopped breathing, and gasped a little air. "Ye-es. Clothes." A stutter, at which the hybrid laughed. The blush came back in force. Iris stood, realizing after a moment that she was a little shaky. This was new. Professionally, she was the calm, self-assured type. Science, even submarine geology, wasn't for the unconfident, and she was pretty good at her job. Plus directing a team of techs and researchers was good assertiveness practice.

And she couldn't find any of that confidence. Not a single trace. With a soft laugh, a few whispers, and a prickle of claws, this woman had stripped it all away.

"You said that Vanjaram would do some nice work for me?"

"Mmmmno, that's not what I said, but she will. She's got a very good eye, and you're such a clean canvas. She'll enjoy the opportunity to go wild. Come on, you'll like her. She has character and style, and she loves new people."

"No, no, no! I said no more surprise customers, Vanessa! No, not even if you ask very nicely and make the very big eyes!" Vanjaram was a dusky woman, with a strong Indian accent, draped in silks edged with gold. And she was already arguing with Vanessa before they'd even made it all the way in the door.

"Well yes, I know you said that but I saw Iris here and thought she could really use your expert eye." The monochromatic cabbit gestured at her coverall clad charge. "Since she's a pretty nice blank canvas, and you're always complaining about the pattern furs we send your way."

The clothier's mood didn't really seem to shift much, but she went from being irate at Vanessa to being irate at Iris. Or at least her clothing. "Ah! Rags! Fit only for dusting, come on, come on, over here." She was busy shooing Iris off to the side, into what turned out to be a fitting room. Or something like that. "Out of those, now. Please. I will give them a decent burial in the incinerator. I will not have anyone leaving my shop in such a state. This goes on your tab, Vanessa, this poor soul you have shanghaied in simply to embarrass me will not pay for your mistakes."

Vanessa grinned as soon as the clothier had her back turned. Iris was a bit less sanguine about this whole thing. But it was too late, her coverall was gone. The options were flee into the "crisp" Fall air in her underwear, or stay put and let this woman do... whatever she was doing with all of the measuring and a light pen.

Once a bunch of measurements, and at least two full body pictures, had been taken Iris was gestured to a couch off to the side. Vanessa had been leaning against the arm of that couch the whole time, watching and grinning. She leaned over then, and murmured softly to Iris.

"I told her what you might like. I told her what you want. So she ought to come up with something... very good. Well, from my point of view, anyway. Don't worry, you'll get something that you can safely walk back to the hotel in. But you'll also get some things that you're going to want me to make you wear."

Gulp.

The cinnamon-skinned woman came back over with a slate in hand, and spent a few minutes talking quietly with Vanessa, then showed a few designs to Iris. Several of them were scandalous enough to put the blush right back on her face. But all of them were beautiful, and showed the designer's culture and attention to detail. "It's a good thing this is going on her tab. I don't think I'd ever be able to convince myself to buy that much silk."

"But you do approve, yes?" Vanjaram was, for the moment, simply earnest and hopeful, and it made Iris wonder if her earlier archness with Vanessa was just a mask she wore. No time to consider that.

"I do approve, yes. Although I think Vanessa approving is probably going to mean more. Since she's steadily persuading me to make bad decisions."

The big grin and murmured "good girl" sent a little pulse of warmth down her spine, a tiny rush of euphoria. Which was... interesting. She'd been so certain that it would take a month of meeting someone, talking with them and growing slowly more comfortable to get that kind of reaction. Perhaps that was the real value of a professional, knowing how and when to push to help someone get comfortable.

"Well, most of these are going to take a day or two to do properly, But I can have the wool dress done in an hour or so. Do you think you two can sit tight," she glared at Vanessa, "and behave, for an hour?"

Vanessa's grin argued no, but she nodded. "Of course, Mistress of needles. I sure don't want to piss you off on your home turf. Hey, are we still on for poker Sunday?"

"Of course. I would not miss it."

Which left her, half naked, and suddenly sitting next to Vanessa with no chaperone. "I think I need an adult?" was the best she could do.

"Oh, do you ever, but it's okay, we both are, and as much as teasing you is fun, we need to have some serious talk time now, before we do too much else. Are you serious about this? If not, if you don't want to go forward, well, we'll call the clothes a gift and the hotel room's yours for another week. If you do want to engage our services, we need to start figuring that out sooner than later, and get the paperwork and details sorted. We have time to kill, so... want to do the boring bits first?"

The boring bits consisted of going over the liability and terms of service. Not signing anything, explaining it all, and answering questions.

"Most places want you to skip through this stuff and sign fast so you can get into the good stuff faster. Why's that not true here?"

Vanessa shrugged. "Boss man believes that we're not at all interested in impulse service. Indulgence can do that, they do food and parties and such. Desire, my side of the business? We want customers for life. We want people who keep coming back. Part of that has to be up front honesty."

Which didn't seem bad to Iris, just weird. Most places wanted to trap you in a contract with penalties and forced loyalty. This one wanted to earn your loyalty and be up front and honest.

Vanessa continued with, "Now, that's not to stay there's no teeth in in this contract. It is legally binding, so if you do things like share private info that you may come to find, there'll be some heavy fines. And even though you're not a dominant customer, we're still trusting you to communicate and be honest with us. For your safety as much as for the contract provisions. But the contract means that if you for some reason don't communicate your desire to end the scene, or some other condition that negatively affects your experience, we can't be held liable for things done in absence of that communication."

"Sounds like there's a story there."

"Not one I can tell, thanks to non-disclosure agreements."

"Spoilsport."

The contracts were fully reviewed, but not signed yet, when the clothier reappeared. "Up, up with you, let me see how things have turned out."

Which was all well and fine, but the new kit included underwear, and she was hesitant about stripping fully bare with strangers. Vanjaram turned away when she saw the discomfort, but Vanessa just grinned, shook her head, and folded her arms. Not going to turn away, that said, so get on with it.

Blush time, again. Well, nothing for it but to change, quickly as she could manage, and the panties turned out to be a very pleasant surprise, smooth silk with a bit of laced up ribbon on the front, and a little bow on her waist. Copper-colored ribbon on baby blue silk.

Which matched will with baby blue skirt, but this was silk lining on what felt like some sort of heavy felt. Wool, Vanjaram explained when she asked. To keep her warm against the increasing chill of Autumn. There was a cotton blouse, short sleeved and laced up the front, all the way to the throat, and a wool jacket as well. Heavy too, but uncomfortably warm in the studio.

"Mm. Well, it will have to do for now, though it is so plain and simple I am loathe to let it out of my shop."

The cabbit stage whispered: "Drama queen. She's proud of it but doesn't want to admit that she likes to make simple things."

Ignoring that seemed like a good idea. "They're lovely, Vanjaram. Comfortable and warm which is just what I want right now."

"Good, excellent. The rest will be sent along when they are done." There were pleased goodbyes, and then Vanessa led her out of the shop.

"What did I tell you, Miss Barstow? She's really good, could make a potato look great, and she had a much better than potato canvas to start from. So what now? Want to make your decisions and sign, or do lunch?" A grumble from her stomach settled that. "Come on then. there's a perfect place not too far away. Well, too far for walking in this weather, but by some weird coincidence, there happens to be a car right outside waiting for us."

"Huh. What sorcery is this? Come on, you had this whole thing planned out to the minute, didn't you?"

Vanessa put on a shocked expression. "How could you say that? I simply commented on an amazing bit of good fortune and you accuse my of Machiavellian puppet-mastering." She held the affront all the way to the door, opened into the chill afternoon air. "Nah, you called it. We know how long Miss V takes to do her thing, and I told Leo," a scruffy jaguar in the driver's seat, who gave Vanessa a thumbs up, "when to meet us here. We're headed to the Hare, Leo. Step on it, we're starving back here."

There was only so much 'stepping on it' he could do without angering the traffic control systems, but it was fast enough.

A few hours later, after a feast of a lunch, a few beers, and a return trip, she finally got a good look at where she'd been taken last night. The building was big, kind of ugly in the way that function-first architecture tended to be, but lots of windows on the blocky, square building. Not terribly tall by modern standards but around thirty stories. No signs or anything on the outside.

"Anyone who makes it this far knows who we are already."Vanessa explained. "And we don't do impulse services, really. Off-the-street services just aren't part of our business model."

She wasn't led back to her suite, immediately, but to a room on the ground floor. The relaxed atmosphere said lounge, the desk said office, and the occupant said "Hello, Miss Barstow."

The black-furred fox was, without a doubt, the owner of the company. His face was on the brochure, missing ear and all, and it was his voice on the recorded message that went out with every new login account.

"Thank you for coming," as if it had been optional. "As you've no doubt been informed, the way things have gone so far is something of a trial period, a taste of what could be to come. Whether it does or not is up to you, and here is when we decide whether it does, and what details need ironed out."

Iris sat down on the couch, and Vanessa stepped out of the room, while Kuroko settled in behind the desk. "According to the profile we have of you, Vanessa is a good fit. What do you think?"

"She's intimidating, a little. Forceful. Is charismatic the right word? I'm finding it very hard to say no to her already. Which is scary."

"I didn't hear a "no" there."

"Oh, she's... exactly right. I shiver when she talks and the thought of her doing things to me is enough to make my knees weak. But that's scary, that kind of effect on me."

"Part of why she isn't in the room while you make decisions. She's paid and trained very well to have that effect on people. There's plenty of science, and even more art, behind it and she's one of our best. So is Eve, and you should know before you jump on the option of replicating that experience that Eve took several hours to remember how to be a person, after that, and several days to recover."

Iris nodded. She had guessed, but hearing it stated bluntly was different. "I kind of want that, though. To forget, for a while, that I'm me, and be someone or something else. If it hurts for a while after, well, I've got a minimum of two months off. I can spend as long as I need to recovering."

"That is the other thing. We have had problems in the past, especially with first time submissives, who get fixated, obsessed. You understand that this does not become a full time thing? That these sessions, while they can be quite long, are not meant to be relationships?"

It was hard to read the fox, probably deliberately so, but she could see well enough the worry, the open concern. Not just for the mess such a thing could make for his company, but the effect it would have on the people involved.

"I do understand. Intellectually, at least. I can't say for sure what the rest of me is going to decide, and Vanessa is... really under my skin, already. I'll be honest, that you guys know this much about me before I even set foot in the building is kind of scary."

"It is, yes. But we have some of the best data protection in the world, we have information like that about every customer, and every user of our online services as well. We have a department who's sole responsibility is to analyze data and predict what people are going to want next. Fortunately, you were relatively simple to work out. Your choice of viewing material told the story very well."

"Is everyone going to bring that up?"

"Only four people even know it, Miss Barstow. You, I, Vanessa, and the analyst assigned to your file. Beyond that, not a single person has heard what you like to watch, at least not from us. If you choose to share, well, that's out of our hands."

It was a lot to take in, and the tone of the questions wasn't as she'd expected. The company seemed geared toward helping people decide not to spend money, if that was the right choice, and that seemed so backwards. It made sense, but only from the angle of someone who didn't care about the profits all that much.

"Okay. Okay, I'm in. Is there an order form or something where we check boxes off?"

"Nothing so crass. But I will invite Vanessa back in, if it's her you want to hire?" He waited for her nod before pressing a button on the desktop.

The cabbit returned in a few moments, with a cup in hand. "I may have to either kill or worship Catherine for this, boss. Carrot cake milkshake. I swear, gonna add pounds to my thighs. Hi again, Iris. So this means I really do get to trace rosettes and flowers in your skin?"

Iris shuddered. Which only made Vanessa grin wider. That she then settled in right next to the human, wiggled a little to get comfortable, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders helped, a little bit.

"It would seem so, Vanessa. Please, both of you, relax. We're going to go over packages and options, Miss Barstow. But basically, it comes down to a few simple questions. How long do you want to be in Vanessa's care? How deep do you want to be pushed? And are you worried or frightened about anything other than the completely reasonable trepidation caused by her fascination with sharp things?"

"You mean I can take this longer than just a day or an afternoon?" The surge of excitement was met with one of apprehension. "How long can I go?"

"The longest package we offer is six months." Kuroko tapped a key, and an infographic popped into place on one wall. "One of preparation, four of experience, and one of recovery. The ratio applies in most cases, though if you're doing a single afternoon session, we don't have to worry too much about preparation periods. Recovery, however, is always mandatory, and always carefully attended to. We want returned customers, and if you leave here a wreck, you won't likely come back. We take aftercare very seriously here."

Another point in their favor. Iris was not an experienced kinky person, but from what she'd read and researched, aftercare seemed to be at least as important as anything actually done during the scene. That was a prevailing opinion, anyway, and she was prepared to let that guide her choices until she had more hands on experience.

"I'd like to go four months." The statement didn't get an immediate response, the two black-furred folks just looked at each other a moment. Kuroko shrugged, but it was Vanessa who answered.

"That is a huge thing for a first timer. And it would be the longest I've ever done, personally. Are you sure you don't want to do a week, and then think it over? And do you really understand what you're getting in for?"

Again, resistance to the concept of a larger pay in. "I think I do. I know that there's no way anyone can focus on playing out a scene all day every day, but being able to get in and stay in isn't exactly new to me. You know my job, right? I'm used to spending months at a time in one place, on one task. Being able to do that with something pleasant would be... really good." That and she'd already declined the next round of research crew work, so she didn't actually have anywhere to be for five months.

"Very well." More keys tapped, and more information up on the wall screen. What followed was a lot more detailed questions about just how far in she wanted to be, and another battery of safety and consent papers. A lot of talk about safewords, including ones that any member of the company would honor, for any reason. Ways to get out of the mess she was getting into, if things got too intense. With all the paperwork done, and signed, the last question was simple.

"So. Miss Barstow, under these agreements, your care, housing, feeding and needs are all Vanessa's responsibility, and you are voluntarily surrendering your freedom and well being to her care. Is this correct?"

Iris hesitated another moment. She could still back out. Go spend her vacation on a beach somewhere. Not jump head first into fantasies she wasn't entirely sure were good for her.

Instead, she nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

"Good! Consent and agreement are properly logged, and will be stored with your personal file. I'll leave you two alone to discuss what happens next. I have a few more meetings like this before my day is done."

With the fox gone, there was a long moment of silence, both of them trying to think of what to do, what to say, to move on from here. Vanessa, unsurprisingly, got her thoughts assembled first.

"Four months. That means three weeks of preparation, training, acclimating. Walking you through procedures and showing you where things are. Teaching you hand signals, too, because I may have a pretty strong fetish for gags. Also, while we do know what you looked at most frequently, there's still a lot of territory to cover on the page of what you like, what you don't, what's a big yes, and what's a big no. So a lot of the next couple weeks is going to be that kind of thing. Not as exciting as what'll follow but laying the stage for it, more or less."

Iris nodded.

"Not to say I won't be doing awful, mean, fun things to you during, they just won't be as immersive or long, to start with. Wanna get started? We have a couple hours before dinner."

"Yeah, let's... is there a questionnaire or something?"

"There is, actually. It's usually a good starting place, but I expect honesty. If you don't know whether you do or don't like a thing, or if you're very interested but haven't experienced, then I need to know those things to, so we can introduce you to more things."

Iris wasn't done with the questions by dinner, and took the slate with her to the cafeteria, a sprawling room on the second floor. There were a couple of buffet tables, and a dozen spots with chefs on hand working at everything from flamboyant hibachi to carved fruit.

"All students or folks practicing a new skill. Some of them honing the edge on a craft before a weekend assignment. Catherine's the manager for the food side of the Indulgence department, and she believes in multi-purpose chefs. So every one of them learns a dozen specialties, or they don't get to do solo assignments. What's your pleasure? You're probably sick to death of seafood, given you just spent a month under the ocean."

"Actually it's all been shelf-stable food, stuff that transports easy and doesn't go bad. Bland, boring and mushy. If you know someone who's got some real tuna or something, lead the way!"

"Oh, a woman of fine taste. Come on, I spot Mikey over at the grill, he's bound to have something good!"

Mikey, a lanky human with an unruly frizz of orange hair and a big grin, did indeed have something. Both women got fresh, hot, seared tuna steaks. And he knew what he was doing, too, leaving the natural flavors to do their thing, only adding salt and a faint bit of orange zest to top it off. The sides, hot chips with malt vinegar, were good, but nothing like the real, solid meat that both of them devoured with gusto.

"Okay, you convinced me. You all eat like this here, all the time?" Iris couldn't imagine the amount of money involved in running what was essentially a four-star food court.

"It's a Friday, sweetheart. These guys and gals are all putting in final prep and practice for parties all over the city. Most of the time it's salad bars and soup and sandwiches. Still good stuff, Catherine doesn't believe in fake food, but not anywhere near this flashy on a regular basis."

"That's... a tiny bit disappointing, but not really a surprise. Still, a really sweet deal here. I can see a lot of reasons to work here."

"Thinking about a career change?"

"And give up hunting Atlantis? Not a chance."

"Pfft. If you're done, take our trays over and then come on, we're going on a little field trip. Show you where we're going to be staying for the next four months."

Iris was halfway back from dropping of the dishes for the scullery when she realized how naturally obeying had come. Another trick of Vanessa's voice? The fox had said she was well trained in using it.

The cabbit put an arm around her shoulders and led her along, grinning as they went through the main lobby. "Hold up sweetheart. Craig!"

The bull at the center desk looked up, then grinned and laid a keycard on the desk. "You've got eighteen, Vee. Already cleaned out, and the packages that showed up for Miss Barstow have already been sent over there. You need someone to pick up your things for you?"

"Nah, I'll go get them after I get this sweet thing settled in."

"Copy that. Have fun you two, and you know the drill Vee. We're just a call away, if you need anything."

"I hear you, bull. See you later!"

There was a car waiting for them at the curb, an automatic rather than driver, and they settled into the back. "It's not far, but I figure you ought to know that unlike the suite, it doesn't have biometric access, it requires a key to get in. And unless the emergency alerts have kicked in, it takes a key to get out, too. So in a way you'll be a prisoner, but don't fret too much."

Iris had keyed in on the prison aspect even before Vanessa said anything. "Don't fret? Really? You're a prisoner but don't worry."

Vanessa stuck out her tongue. "It's fine, sweet thing. I'm not going to leave you alone for hours at a time, and you're not going to just be there, we'll be out and about, probably a lot. It's not isolation or anything, and it beats the hell out of any prison cell you can think of. Hey, we're almost there."

The car was turning off of the expressway into a suburb. Then into a gated community. The sensors on the gate queried the car, accepted that it belonged there, and opened up for them.

Inside was a large loop, like an expanded cul-de-sac with a big park area in the center. There were maybe thirty buildings arranged in a loop, all facing inward. Iris noticed a few things immediately. There were no children in sight, and also very little clothing.

"The company owns the whole place. Some of the houses are long-term rentals, most of them are empty except when we need them for something like a long term, twenty-four-seven kink assignment. Several of them are where some of our staff pretty much live when they're not at work. You'll meet a bunch of them. Whole place is clothing optional, and a strictly no-minors zone. Seriously, the gate requires ID on anyone who isn't in a cleared vehicle. And if you use a cleared vehicle to sneak a minor in, not only are you evicted ASAP, you're gonna have a couple of nice court dates, one for breach of contract, with us, and one for your poor decision making, with the state."

Iris could appreciate the draconian measures in place to keep things adult and relaxed. She wasn't sure she appreciated the implication that she'd be on display at some point, for the neighbors.

The building they pulled up to was a nice little thing, two stories, lots of windows, and the door responded to the cabbit's key card, letting them in. Lights faded up, bringing some nice but impersonal furnishings into view. Everything they would need, but none of it had any personality or character, like the furniture in the background of a movie scene.

When she mentioned the neutral, lifeless decor, Vanessa shrugged.

"We keep it neutral because we never know who's going to be renting one of these shacks. Or need one for a video shoot. Or if we're going to set aside half the village for some sort of massive party. You'll be here for one of those, if you don't change your mind. Couple weeks out, you should be just past the preparation and indoctrination phases, learning the ropes and so on. Just in time to have a wild weekend as my little pet."

"Oh. Um. Pet?"

"Well, if that's how we decide to play things, yeah. That's another part of this three weeks. Figuring out what makes you smile, what makes you shiver." Vanessa paused, and turned around to face her. "Real quick, I want to make sure everything's set correctly. Go try and open the front door."

Iris was curious, herself, and turned to the door. Stuck, the door handle simply didn't engage on anything when she turned it, and she couldn't pull or push it with any sort of leverage.

After a few tries she felt Vanessa step up behind her, felt the prickle of claws against her right shoulder, then her left hip. That hand danced around, and she felt the softness of the cabbit against her from behind. Claws settled on her stomach, teeth bit at the side of her neck. and the only sound she could make was a faint little whimper.

"That's right, sweetheart. We're gonna spend weeks finding out what you like." The gentle little laugh was as indulgent as chocolate. "But I already know what you want."