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[b][u][center]Mounting Debt[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Chapter 2: What Was Paid For[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For bbbuuu[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

“Jenkins, the Boss is coming out. Get ready.”

Azen could barely hear the communicator from his position on the floor of the hovercar, and the Salarian was a little busy trying not to think of all the bullet holes beneath him or the bits of armor that were crunched through them. Who knew how many of the Blood Pack had gotten squished beneath them in the sudden descent, or how many bodies were going to be piled up outside of Afterlife by the morning?

The fact that this had happened at all still left him stunned. Aria had been the essential ruler of Omega for so long that the idea of…of anything like this happening on her territory, in the heart of her turf, seemed impossible. Someone should have been shot for this. Someone probably [i]would[/i] be shot for this. But until then –

BANG!

Azen yelped, covering his head at the sudden explosion from outside the car. When he looked up again, he saw a huge hole blown in the wall of Aria’s club. Fire burned in the main room, and he could see armored and naked bodies strewn across the floor. His eyes went wider than usual, and he wondered how many of his coworkers had been killed in the fight. He hadn’t even thought about the bartenders, dancers, and other strippers that called the bar home, what might have happened to them since they weren’t in the backrooms, like he was. How…how many of them were even still alive?

The Salarian’s jaw was still dropped as a blue-armored figure leaped through the hole, fire clinging to the armor for a few seconds before he was completely free of it. Jenkins threw the door of the car open, backing up a few steps to make room, and the new guy – the Boss, perhaps – jumped in past the human.

“Shut the door, drive.”

No screaming, either. Just a quick command, and then they were off. The Batarian in the front seat already had the engines roaring, and Azen just barely caught sight of the gunfire going off through the hole in the wall before the door closed again. The car started rising, Jenkins sitting down in a seat while the masked fighter took the other.

[i]And I’m just…okay, I’ll just stay down here,[/i] the naked Salarian thought.

“Keep moving, Geeroy. Not sure how long we have.”

“Boss, we got you. Let’s blow this fucking joint.”

“Faster. Now.”

Despite himself, Azen couldn’t help but wonder at the sudden hurry in the other’s voice. He didn’t even know what the Boss was, considering that he still had his helmet on, but he could hear that tension that had been building with every word. They were in the car now, and the gunfire wasn’t as loud…

The gunfire wasn’t as loud.

[i]Oh, no.[/i]

That meant that covering fire from the front room was dying off, which meant that the Blood Pack was coming to the door, which meant –

He lifted himself up, half laying over Jenkins’s lap to look out the window. He spotted two Krogan and a Vorcha pushing themselves out of the burning club, and the Vorcha was rapidly putting together a stand for –

“Oh…bad…”

“Rocket launcher?”

The Salarian nodded at the Boss’s question. The helmeted merc slammed his fist on the driver seat.

“Faster.”

“Fast as I fucking can, boss. This ain’t a military model, you know.”

“Faster, or we’re going down in fire.”

“Ain’t into that, fucking ain’t into that!”

Even as the engines roared beneath him, Azen saw the world as if in slow motion. The rocket launcher tube was already mounted on the stand, the Krogan were taking aim. He whimpered, seeing the red line of the targeting laser playing over their car, and it was only a moment later that –

BANG!

BOOM!

The rocket covered the distance in less than a second, and the whole car rocked as the explosion hit them right in the rear. The back window went out, and he felt the flames covering the back and bottom of the hovercar. Yelping, he pushed himself up, crawling into the middle seat between the mercs, and was just grateful that they didn’t throw him back down.

Probably because they were a little too busy holding onto the car itself for dear life, one hand on the straps hanging from the ceiling and the other one holding their weapons. The Boss growled.

“Well, that plan is gone. How much time until we crash, Geeroy?”

“Maybe thirty seconds. Can’t fucking hold it.”

“Jenkins. Jetpacks?”

“No go.”

“Well…it looks like we have one option, then.”

[i]Oh, no.[/i]

“Everyone, brace for impact.”

It was a hard landing, for sure, though not as bad as it could be. Azen could give Geeroy full credit for that. The Batarian was as big an asshole as they came, but he was a heck of a pilot. Coming down between two buildings, Geeroy had managed to grind the sides of the hovercar against the buildings at his sides, pinging it back and forth to slow down their momentum. When they finally hit the ground, it was less of a cratering impact and more of a thud from about ten feet up.

Jenkins jumped out of one side, and Azen just let himself fall out the open door. The Salarian crawled away from the fiery hovercar, not daring to remain too close in case it blew up, but he didn’t have the energy to move much further. He just curled up against a nearby garbage bin, shivering as he felt the cool concrete under his bare ass heating up.

The mercs, on the other hand, were rapidly discussing strategy. He saw that both Jenkins and Geeroy were listening to the one that they’d been calling Boss, and guessed that the masked soldier was probably a good deal higher up than just their immediate superior. They didn’t argue with him in the slightest, and seemed to be more, well, fiery. Particularly Jenkins, who he thought was just a nervous wreck most of the time.

“Alright. The Blood Pack will know which way we went. My communicator is broken. You?”

“Got one, sir,” Jenkins said.

“Hand it over.”

[i]Won’t work,[/i] he already knew. This deep in the apartments, the communicator signals got frazzled and snagged on all the irregular, thicker bits of metal. Starship level stuff could punch through to establish a channel, but none of the portable stuff had enough power to get out through the area.

Sure enough, he was right. The Boss handed it back, shaking his head.

“No reinforcements, then.”

“Not that defensible, is it?”

“No, it’s not. Geeroy, you got your sniper rifle?”

“Got the assault one, too.”

“Alright, let’s me see.”

The Boss was too calm for this, in Azen’s opinion. They had a bloodthirsty group of mercenaries after them, probably looking to kill them off completely so that whatever was going on in Afterlife didn’t get spread around, and who knew what else was going on. Yet, the Boss was talking about it like it was just another day of business. Who did that? Even mercs had to have some kind of panic button.

He shivered, and not just because of the cold. He was exposed, and there wasn’t much in the way of defensive positions out here. He knew that for a fact, because he wasn’t that far from his apartment from here.

Azen looked down the street, wondering if he could get there on his own. Possibly, he could, but it wasn’t that likely. The Blood Pack would be spreading out, and they’d be shooting anyone still on the streets. Yeah, they didn’t know that he worked with Aria, but even if they didn’t kill him, they’d pull him in as a dancer for them. And the last thing he wanted was to be a mercenary gang’s whore. The number of stories he’d heard about that were not appealing, and it wasn’t where he wanted to take his life.

But…at the same time…

He looked back at the Blue Sun mercs. He knew that Geeroy would push things further than ever, but Jenkins was a good guy. So far, the Boss was calm and collected, and seemed reasonable. If he could provide them a safe place, maybe they’d keep him safe.

“Proposal for you.”

The three mercs turned to him.

“No defenses on the street. But got a hiding place further in. Someplace to keep out of the way. Blood Pack won’t look. Get me there, you can stay.”

“…Fucking hell…”

“Boss, he’s a good guy,” Jenkins jumped in. “Bit of a weird guy, but someone that we can trust.”

“I’ll take your word on it. Lead on, Salarian.”

And so he did. Jumping to his feet, he ran forward and heard the clinking of the armored trio behind him. He just hoped that they didn’t end up shooting him in the back for all this. That would just be the topping on the cake.

#

His apartment wasn’t that far from Afterlife, but it was situated further up than most in the block. Only two floors from the top, which meant that the mercs might be able to get a signal out. He told them as much as he opened the door, gesturing them in before following behind them. As he locked the door behind him, Jenkins and Geeroy were already hard at work pulling the blinds shut and blacking out the place, while the Boss had sat down on the one couch in the apartment and reached for his helmet.

Surprisingly, the Boss was a Turian. Azen had no reason to be surprised by that, yet he was. Black and red skin with the usual Turian mandibles popped into view as the helmet came off, and the mercenary boss turned to look at him.

“I think this place will suit our needs just fine. Do you have a connection to the net in here?”

“Yes –”

“Get Geeroy hooked in. I want to get a signal out as fast as possible. The quicker the rest of the boys get here, the better.”

“Uh…yes, sir.”

Azen wasn’t sure how he was falling under Blue Sun jurisdiction, but it could be a lot worse. It could be the Batarian calling the shots, and who knew what would happen then?

Getting Geeroy’s attention wasn’t that hard, particularly considering he was still naked. The Salarian put up with a few gropes as he walked the mercenary towards the back of the apartment to a closet off from the bedroom, and pointed out the source box of the net signal. He was thankful that the many-eyed one stopped groping him and got to work quickly. He wasn’t sure what else he could put up with if it went on.

He was about to get dressed when the Boss cleared his throat. He turned, cocking his head to the side.

“Salarian, what’s that on your head?”

“My –”

Plop. He groaned as he felt the wet goo slip from his horns to his face, almost running into his eye before he closed it. He’d forgotten about the fact that Geeroy had cum all over his face just before things had gone to hell, and that he hadn’t had the chance to get rid of any of it. A bright blush burned in his cheeks, and it didn’t get better when the blasted Batarian started laughing behind him.

“Azen here has been our personal suck slut for the last few weeks. Guy’s a fucking pain, but he’ll get you off good.”

“H-heh, yeah…kinda is…”

Not the introduction that he was hoping for, considering the way that the night was going, but Azen didn’t have any way of contradicting them. Particularly with cum running down his face, he knew. Instead, he reached up, pushing it out of the way and then shaking it out onto the carpet.

“Yes. Kind of a dancer. And that.”

“So, which of the boys did you finish with?”

“Geeroy.”

The Batarian laughed again, and even though it was less of a cruel chuckle than he was used to, he didn’t like feeling it echoing around his own apartment. This place was where he went to get away from the jobs, and just spend his time collecting his notes. Sure, there was a stripper pole that would come down from the ceiling for him to practice, but it wasn’t for clients, or for ‘clients’ to see. This was his sanctuary.

The Turian looked him over a few times, and shook his head. A gesture towards Jenkins pulled the human back from the window.

“I think it’s time that you received what you paid for, as well.”

“What?”

“What?!”

Azen’s was the second and more profound, mostly because he couldn’t believe that a military leader would have one of his soldiers do something like that when they were under threat. Admittedly, also because he didn’t want to put on a show before a new audience at this point, but that was a secondary reason. He spluttered, but the human was already walking over to him, already undoing his armor.

Almost mechanically, Azen slipped to his knees before realizing it was happening. He squirmed at Jenkins’s hand on his shoulder, looking up at the blushing but obviously horny human, and then looked to the Turian. The Boss chuckled.

“You can finish your business with him. Don’t mind me or Geeroy; it’s important to fulfill all your obligations.”

At that point, he would have happily thrown the money back at the Blue Suns and called it a night, but…at the same time, he was worried that they would want something more for the fact that they’d rescued him. No matter how much he tried to re-write it or rationalize it in his head, they had no need to actually help him get out of the club. They could have left him there to die, just like all the others that were left in the main room. If they hadn’t pulled him along, the Blood Pack would have killed him.

All the bodies and the flames from the front room surged forward in his head, and he shuddered. No way was he going to let that happen to him. He would do anything to avoid getting caught, and he would pay his debts in the process.

So, when the human pulled out that oddly shaped, thick-tipped shaft, Azen had already slicked up his lips and leaned forward, taking that shaft down into his throat and bobbing back and forth without the slightest hesitation. He moved quicker than usual, mostly because he could feel the Turian’s eyes on him, almost like he was being studied. It was unnatural. Salarians were the ones that did the studying, Turians were the ones that did the shooting.

Still, he gave Jenkins all the attention that he’d paid for. Up and down, up and down, always sucking a little firmer on the way back than on the way down. He could feel the pulsing through his lips, feel the throbbing along the underside as that little piece of human biology made itself all too apparent. He felt that bulge along the bottom, that tube that would send all that cum out in a little while, and focused on it, whipping it with his tongue from the base to the tip.

He could taste the human’s pre already, oozing out quickly and making him taste the salt content in it. He groaned, but didn’t stop, sucking and bobbing, feeling his cheeks pursing in and rubbing the human’s cock head from the sides.

“Hooked up to the net, Boss.”

“Good. Come in, watch the show.”

His cheeks burned as he felt another pair of eyes settle on him, and knew that Geeroy wasn’t going to be holding back for long. Indeed, not more than a few seconds, as a thick set of fingers settled on the back of his head and shoved him down, holding his lips at the base of the human’s cock and not letting him pull back.

“Hehehe, make sure that you get it real deep, you little whore. That’s some real gratitude we want to see.”

He spluttered around the cock in his throat, feeling it throb all the harder. It took a great deal of work to keep a cock in the back of his mouth like that, the head in his throat without gagging, and Azen took it as a compliment to all the hard work he’d done over the years that he was doing as well as he was. At the same time, he wanted nothing more than to have Geeroy pull back and let him work.

But that didn’t happen, of course, as the Batarian ground him forward, nudging him almost painfully hard against the human’s crotch. He groaned, spluttering and pulling one hand back to try and get the mercenary to let go, but it was useless. No way was he getting that hand off of his head with so little leverage.

And then –

Clap!

A quick spank on his ass, followed by a thick, leathery finger working its way down between his ass cheeks. He groaned, trying to say something, but it was muffled around the human’s cock and drowned out by Jenkins’s moaning. Geeroy’s finger was already halfway to his hole, circling it and rubbing around his rim, and the Salarian shivered as he realized that this time, he couldn’t pull back.

“Maybe you should start paying us back with this, you fucking slut. You realize how much we did for you back at the club? How many times you almost died? You owe us, you little whore. We deserve some compensation.”

It left him shuddering, thinking of offering his ass to the Batarian at all, at this point. The mercenary had always been pushing for it, but the edge in his voice now was something entirely new. Almost like Geeroy was willing to force it, now that he had the advantage. All the security of the club was gone, he realized, and he was not a Salarian that knew how to fight. All the people, all the veiled threats that had given him an air of security and comfort – they were gone. And they weren’t coming back anytime soon.

[i]He wants my ass…he wants to fuck me, and make me…[/i]

Jenkins pulled back, but not enough to let him talk. Only enough to let him get in a gasp before thrusting back in. For the first time, the human held his horns, using his face like a fuck-toy as the Batarian worked down towards his hole.

[i]No, no, this isn’t what I planned on. You aren’t going to do this. You can’t do this![/i] he thought, even as he felt pressure on his rim, the beginnings of a thrust inside. He shook his head, as much as he could with a cock pumping in and out of his mouth, and then –

POP.

That finger slipped in, going deeper than he’d ever let Geeroy go before. It was all the way down to the last knuckle, filling him up in a way that no Salarian ever wanted to feel a Batarian do. He was unable to move, his eyes feeling like they were going to pop right out of his skull as the merc started finger-fucking him, nudging his prostate almost intentionally.

“Slips right in, doesn’t it, you little whore? You think that it’s going to stop this time? No Aria, no Gavorn, no nothing here. Just you, and your ‘gratitude’ for everything that we’ve –”

“Stop it, Geeroy.”

The Turian. He’d almost forgotten about the Boss, and was more than relieved when he felt both of his clients stop moving at the same time. The Salarian rolled his eyes to the side, watching as the Boss stood up and walked over, pushing Geeroy back. The soft pop of the finger leaving his hole was slightly painful, but he’d take that over everything else that was going on.

“I said, stop it.”

“But Boss, he owes us.”

“And what do you think he’s doing right now?”

Again, there was no anger, only confidence, and perhaps a little amusement. It shocked him to see that level of command and power over a subordinate. Few people had it. Aria did, but he expected it out of her, considering how godlike she could be. The others…well, it was like a bonus when he saw it, but he didn’t expect it. This Turian, though…he had it in spades, and it was a relief to see Geeroy brought under control. He started bobbing his head again, encouraging Jenkins to start thrusting once more as the Turian and Batarian sat down again.

“This apartment is perfect for us to hide out in until we get some reinforcements. Azen, here, didn’t have to do that, but giving us a safe place is paying off that debt. He has no further debt that he has to pay with his body.”

[i]Thank you…thank you.[/i]

“Besides…if you want to play, you need to be able to pay. And I can pay.”

[i]…What?[/i]

Jenkins chose that moment to cum, and Azen had to focus on that rather than the talk going on at the couch. He spluttered slightly as he felt the first load going down his throat, but he pulled back after that, leaning his head back to allow for the splatters to land on his tongue. Jenkins kept jerking off over him, the human obviously having a good time and releasing quite a bit of stress, and he took it all. Most of it on his tongue, but a few strands landed between his horns again.

When it was over, he felt a mess, but at least he’d earned the credits that he’d brought along with him. He shook his head, slowly standing up.

“I’m going to go wash up. I’ll…be back soon.”

The mercenaries didn’t stop him, and he walked back to the washroom that was just out of view. He shut the door, and after a moment’s consideration, locked it. Azen didn’t want to be walked in on just at that point.

He turned to the mirror, shaking his head. He was bruised along his upper arm, and had a few others along his chest from the crash. His horns were splattered with cum, looking almost like some insect’s web with the mix of fresh and dried stuff. His skin was a little cracked with dried cum on his cheeks, and he looked about as dirty as he felt.

Running some water, he started washing himself down, shaking his head as he did so. The feeling of such…filth going on with everything else tonight was almost more than he could bear. It was one thing to have a few tricks in the club that paid him money for a dance and a suck – and occasionally a little bit more – but it was another thing to bring them back here. At the club, it was just part of the job, part of the dancing routine. Here…here, he felt like nothing but the whore that Geeroy kept calling him, and the phrase sent a shiver down his spine.

For Salarians, a whore was someone that was not entirely Salarian at all. Other species used their bodies because their brains couldn’t keep up, as a general rule. Humans bred to keep up their numbers, Turians were tough and sharp-sighted, Krogans were brutes and soaked up everything that was shot at them, even Vorcha adapted so as to be nearly unkillable, given enough time. Salarians, however, used their minds. Even the special forces worked by outsmarting those that they went against, rather than outfighting them. For a Salarian to make a living only by selling their body, to be defined by the body alone, meant that they were below the species as a whole.

[i]I am not a whore,[/i] he thought as he looked in the mirror, shaking his head. [i]I am NOT a whore…[/i]

And yet, he was already considering getting out the douching hose that he had beneath the counter, feeling like he would need it. The idea humiliated him almost as badly as the word that he was not, but the last thing that the Turian said left him worried…paranoid…

In the end, he gave in, plugging the hose into the sink and then slowly sliding the other end up his ass. If he might need to work, he needed to be…professional.

#

It took him all of ten minutes to get the results of the night so far off of his face, as well as get ready for the rest. He’d applied some oil to his body, a little bit of medi-gel to his shoulders and chest, and come out looking fresh. He wanted to go to the bedroom to get dressed, but before he could cross the hallway, the Turian called out.

“Come here.”

He wanted to ignore that, but the Boss was the one that he owed, now. Pulling Geeroy off of him meant that there was a favor there, though a small one. Salarians didn’t like favors, and he was no exception. Better to get it paid off fast.

He walked back to the front room, trying not to cover himself as he stepped in front of the three dressed men. Batarian, Turian, human, all three were completely covered, while he was completely exposed. His cheeks would have burned if it wasn’t for the fact that he was used to doing this on a nightly basis.

The Boss held up a hand, empty at first. Then he flicked his fingers, and a series of credit chips almost seemed to leap into being, standing out between his fingers and shining in the light of the apartment.

“Like I was telling Geeroy, if you wanna play, you need to pay.”

“You’re certainly quite willing.”

“I like what I see. And I’m willing to pay for what I want.”

The Turian threw down a hundred credits right off the bat, and Azen felt his heart sinking a little bit. A hundred to start meant that this was going to ramp up very quickly, and he wasn’t sure how far this was going to go. Nor did he know if he would be able to say no to the Boss.

“Let’s start with a dance, Salarian. I hear from both of my employees that you are very good at that.”

“True, true, I am.”

“Get started. I’m sure you have a pole somewhere. You don’t just go to work without practicing.”

[i]He’s smarter than I’d like,[/i] he admitted, taking a step back to the wall behind him. Pushing one button opened a panel, pushing another extended the pole that was behind it. A third locked it in place, both at the top and bottom. It wasn’t ideal, considering that it was only a few steps away from the couch and wouldn’t give him the same freedom of movement as at the club, but –

He pushed the thoughts of the club away. He didn’t want to think of the people back there, of who might be dead and who might be alive. He was still kicking, and he wasn’t going to stop.

So, he threw his leg around the pole, spinning himself around it until his head almost touched the floor. His leg in the air and his ass grinding on the pole, he lingered in that position before throwing his other leg up. It gave him enough leverage to hold onto the pole, and he leaned up, his abs aching a bit as he grabbed at the top, pulling his body upwards with long-practiced muscles before he smiled down at the mercenaries with a practiced grin.

They were smiling back, and Jenkins was fiddling with the crotch plate of his armor. Geeroy was sulking, as ever, and the Boss…

The Boss was smirking, as much as Turians ever could. There was a look there, almost a look of possession, and he shivered.

He put himself back into his routine, letting himself spin around the pole slowly as he descended again. His outstretched leg let them get a good look between his glutes, something he knew that the Batarian would appreciate, before he reached the bottom and turned, his head away from the group as he ran his hands down his ass. Azen felt himself up, stroking, groping, lifting, lowering, parting his ass cheeks, and he felt the burning gazes of the mercs on him. He wondered how much they were thinking of spreading him open, and felt a little shiver go down his spine.

Suppressing it, he strutted around the pole again, making sure that there was just enough parting to his legs to let them keep focusing on his sexual bits. He could feel his cock sliding out, pressing forward out of its little hidey-hole, but he ignored it. They were interested in ass and mouth, not in that. None of his clients were ever interested in that.

[i]Whore. Whore. Whore.[/i]

The word kept popping into his head, humiliating him with how he was keeping himself alive here, using his body rather than his brain. It was almost enough to make him stumble, but he recovered, sweeping himself around the pole and grinding his ass against it, parting the cheeks and bumping and grinding on it, giving the mercenaries the chance to imagine that it was their dicks between his ass cheeks rather than the cool metal of the pole. It was something, at least, and they seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.

He was about to walk around again, to throw himself up against the pole and ride it, when the Turian cleared his throat. Azen looked down, saw another series of credits land on the table.

“The boys are going to dance with you now.”

“Boss?”

“Huh? What are you fucking talking about?”

“I mean, you two are going to strip down and grind with him. Do you understand me?”

“…”

“…”

“Now.”

Command, and menace. Azen shivered, his mind coming up with the worst possibilities of what could happen to him with this Turian. There was power there, and a willingness to use what he had to in order to get what he wanted. The fact that he was turning his own men into part of the act without the slightest hesitation told him that things were going to get worse before they got better.

As soon as the two soldiers were stripped, they moved up next to him. Jenkins in front of him, Geeroy behind, and he was trapped in the middle. He was the only one oiled up, but it was enough as they started sliding and grinding against one another.

Getting the impression of what the Boss wanted, Azen reached down, cupping the human’s cock and reaching back to do the same with Batarian. It was a sensual, grinding, floating ‘dance’ of a thing, meant more to tease than to look pretty, but he was pretty sure that the Boss was enjoying it. He smiled, looking back and forth between his dance partners, and pulled them along into the sweeping, swaying dance.

At least, until Geeroy started prodding him again. Azen slowed the dance, but didn’t stop it.

“You…you know the rules.”

“You…”

The Batarian didn’t push, but he didn’t stop rubbing, either. Moving in little circles, just enough to keep Azen from feeling safe, just enough to keep it feeling good, too. He shook his head, about to try again, when –

“Geeroy. Either you keep your fingers to yourself, or I’m going to remove them. He’s made his terms clear.”

“…Yes, Boss.”

The finger slipped away, and he continued his dance. The two cocks were soon hard in his hands, oozing and dripping, and despite themselves, the mercs were groaning and panting for him. Geeroy couldn’t summon up any more insults, and Jenkins was his usual panting, drooling self. He smiled slightly, enjoying the power over the pair of them –

Click.

Another bunch of credits. Lots and lots of credits.

[i]What does he want this time?![/i]

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]