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Brothel To Another World

Chapter 2

By StripedKittyScribe

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In a war between the supernatural forces, Nymova isn't even a front line soldier. She's little more than what amounts to a supply specialist. Stuck with a boss who abuses her status and his power over her. When things go absolutely sideways, she's left on her own, with a plan that's nowhere near developed enough to actually work.

Now that she's finished her immediate employment problems, it's time to get the rest of the entertainment. And her supply lines. And her income stream. And her marketing. And…

---

Riniras threw her shoulder into the door with a resonating bellow, rending it into kindling with the impact.

The cultists' chant broke as raggedly as the door, shocked at the interruption. At the seven foot and change bovine woman in her leather and mail. At the way that splinters stuck out of her short brown fur. At the rage in her eyes as she brought death into their sanctum, far sooner than the ceremony dictated it should have come.

Rinras roared at them, her battle axe in one hand sweeping in a wide arc.

Tik slipped into the room, using the racket as cover. None of the cultists saw him as he faded into the shadows.

J'nag flung a crystal forward, calling a warning to his companions just before a flash seared any unprotected eyes with a brilliant flash.

Everyone was screaming. The cultists. The sacrifice. The adventurers.

*

Nymova set her hands on her desk, bracing there as she considered the latest figures. Doing projections of expenditures was always tricky. Doubly so when it was arcane and thus harder to quantify. Triply so when costs and income were fluctuating so much.

Sabe sipped her tea, remaining silent. She knew there was only one real solution. It simply wasn't a solution that Nymova liked.

The succubus was like many ambush predators. She wanted the perfect time to strike, and tended to pull away from a situation that wasn't 'reliable' enough. Like all predators, though, the hungrier they were, the more risk they would take.

Nymova wasn't starving, not yet. But her reserves were dwindling, and faster than she'd anticipated. It wasn't that she couldn't do the figures for projecting expenses. It was that she couldn't think of everything, and incidentals were starting to wear away at resources that 'should' have lasted another year.

The succubus sat back in her chair, letting her head fall back, her horns catching on the backrest just right to stretch things. She closed her eyes, and then nodded. “You're right. You're right, we can't keep going like this. Let's go ahead and open up."

Sabe's shoulders finally relaxed. “Of course." She checked her tablet, then stood. “I see that you've approved the rotation that I suggested. I don't have the magical power to activate the proper runes, so you'll have to do that daily."

Nymova stood, her silks forming around her as her horns retracted. Technically speaking, she wasn't a succubus any more. Or rather, she wasn't just a succubus any more. Nymova was a lilim, a far more powerful being. As a succubus, she would have used an illusion to clothe herself. As a lilim, she could manifest clothing as well as control her form more minutely. “I'll see to it. Let everyone know that we'll be opening in fifteen minutes."

*

Riniras almost threw her axe through the wall in anger. The group had disintegrated as soon as they had returned to the Adventurer's Guild. She'd heard them all talking about how they would spend their coin once they returned. How they would be going to the brothels.

That wasn't so bad. The comments around the fire that night when they'd thought that she was asleep and couldn't hear them was what was so bad. Riniras knew that she wasn't 'pretty'. Or delicate. Or any of that. But their words had cut her deeper than the knives of the cultists had.

She'd thought that this group may have been different. Or at least polite enough not to say such things within earshot. It wasn't her fault that she was larger than most people. It certainly wasn't her fault that she was broad, or that her arms and legs were as thick as trees, nor that she wasn't light on her feet or graceful.

She was who she was. And she was starting to think that nothing she did would make a difference. She didn't ask for much.

Strictly speaking, she didn't ask for anything. She didn't speak often, and she only did so when the situation dictated that harm would come if she kept silent. Her voice was as rough as her armor, and no one liked listening to her. But just to be treated nicely, for once. Would that be so hard? To have someone look up at her and not recoil in terror or shock? She wasn't a monster.

*

Nymova set her hand on the runes, focusing her power on it. “Alright, everyone. First day. Big smiles." She traced her finger along the sigil, and the door's frame pulsed.

*

Riniras wasn't lost. She knew these streets well enough. The capital city was a good place to get armor and weapon repairs, and even without her axe or mail, she was a mountain of a woman who looked like she could chew stone without breaking a tooth. She had her bag slung over her shoulder rather than on her belt, and that alone kept it high enough that it wasn't a tempting target for thieves.

She wasn't lost, she was simply wandering aimlessly. Her armor would take a few days to replace the chain links on, and her axe needed the heads sharpened. She wanted to find an inn. But she knew that none of the places she had tried before had beds large enough. Turning down an alley to cut between streets, she felt something. Sensed something.

Instantly, she was on edge. Riniras' instincts for when something wasn't right had always been good, and had been more finely honed since she'd started adventuring. She stopped, turning a slow circle. Casually, as if she'd maybe dropped something and was looking for it. No one was lurking, there weren't even any shadows or objects to hide behind, other than the corners at the mouth of the alley ahead and behind.

Scanning a few more seconds, she finally realized what it was. There was a door set in the wall, in a place that made no sense. She knew that building, it was a tailor's shop, and that door would open into their storage area.

She approached the door, curious now that she'd identified what had set her instincts off. “The Endorff Inn." She read the name on the door several more times, each one making her more confused than the last. She'd never heard of an Endorff. Maybe it was the name of the owner? And how in the name of the gods was there an inn here? She knew that it was a tailor's shop. They'd tried to charge her 50 gold just for a single outfit once.

Putting her hand on the knob, she tugged it open.

The door didn't lead to a storage area. It looked like a common room that would be in any tavern. The smells coming from inside were savory and sweet. That alone drew her inside. Anyone who had a cook that could make food smell like that must be talented.

She looked at the stunningly beautiful woman standing behind the bar. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a robe-dress-thing that some noble women would have killed to own. Riniras couldn't tell how tall the other woman was, but she looked to be maybe five and a half feet tall.

“Come in, be welcome," Nymova called, motioning toward a seat. “We are slow today, as you can see."

Riniras stood in the doorway, looking at the room's layout. It was twenty feet from the edge of the door to the wall on her left. Pulling her head back out into the alleyway, she looked at the alley. Fifteen feet to the end in the same direction. She checked several more times, just to confirm what she was seeing.

Nymova came around the edge of the bar, graceful and smiling. “Yes, this place is not as it appears. You are perfectly safe. You have my pledge upon my existence that no harm will come to you, if you bring no harm in."

Riniras felt that. Felt the truth of it, the absolute validity of the statement now that it had been made. She came fully into the room and stood up to her full height. Time to test just how far that pledge would go.

Nymova had seen demons larger than Riniras, but not many mortals.

Riniras stood well over seven feet tall, and probably weighed closer to four hundred pounds than three. Every last bit of it was muscle and thick bone. Unlike most of the bovine women, Riniras had horns that extended nearly half a foot to each side of her head before curling up to their points. She didn't have large breasts, not even considering her immense frame. Her face was rough, though it was more a factor of lack of care. It was hardly ugly. Just large and heavy. There was little in the way of hair on her head, cropped so close as to almost be bald.

Nymova motioned toward one of the tables. “You are welcome. If you like, I can have food and drink brought out."

Riniras' brown eyes narrowed, still suspicious. “How much?" Her voice was deep enough that it was almost felt more than heard, even with her keeping her volume down. She had a tendency to make people wince when she spoke up, just from the volume. She was a large woman, with large lungs. Good for being heard over the roar of battle.

Nymova's eyes sparkled with delight at the question. “One gold coin per night, all services included."

Riniras' eyes narrowed further. That was half the cost of most inns in the city, and most of those didn't look anywhere close to this nice. The floor didn't smell of stale beer, and the staircase to the side went up to a second level with private rooms. “What services?"

Nymova set her hands in front of her lap as she remained standing in front of the warrior. She could tell, even without the normal equipment that would mark this woman as a fighter. Even without her powers, she could see from how Riniras stood that the other woman was capable of incredible amounts of damage. “Meals, drinks, private room, heated bath, laundry, and attendants for your every whim."

Riniras jerked back as if slapped. She started to make a denial, but then paused. On the one hand it was too good to be true. The price should be more than 30 gold a night for that level of luxury. And she didn't have to be a mage to realize that there was more going on here than met the eye.

On the other hand, there was that pledge that she would be safe in here. And there were some business reasons to offer an initial low cost. Maybe not this low, but however this “Mistress Endorff" wanted to run her business was her affair, not Riniras'. “Three nights?"

Nymova bowed. “Of course. Please come to the counter?" She turned to go behind the counter once again, and reached up onto the wall to pull a heavy key down. Facing her first guest, she set the key on the counter, and swept the three gold coins into her palm. “Your room is on the first floor up. Everything you need or want will be taken care of by Charles."

Wordlessly, Riniras took the key and made her way up the staircase. Her heavy boots thudded into the wood as she turned to see that there was only one door. The key fit the lock perfectly, and when she entered, she could see that the room was, in fact, every bit as large as the area below would have indicated. The decor remained understated and soft, rich wood and fabrics and carpets. She stepped into the room, and instantly felt self-conscious. She wasn't as filthy as if she'd fallen into a sewer, but her clothing and boots were dusty from travel, to say nothing of her fur.

A human man stood to the side, wearing a robe of similar cut to the woman downstairs. He was handsome, for a human. Somewhere around six feet tall, with wavy brown hair and green eyes. His beard was full, but trimmed short, and he looked like he spent more time running than lifting heavy objects or swinging a hammer or mace. Trim, but not scrawny like some of the attendants she'd seen in other inns and settings. He gave her a warm smile, and swept his hand to indicate the room at large. “My name is Charles. Please, set your bag down and make yourself at home."

Riniras actually blushed. For the first time since she'd left her tribe, she blushed, from the attention of a man. He didn't look up at her as if she were some aberration. “Riniras."

“I can have food and drink brought up as you wish, and the bath will be ready within a few minutes of your request," he continued, as if she were just any other woman.

“Bath, please."

*

Riniras sank into the water, and groaned. It was perfect. Steaming hot. Light floral scent. Soaps and oils arranged for her to pick and choose. She lost track of time. Just sitting on the bench in the water while the sounds of more water coming into the tub played as a background against the strange flute music that was coming from… somewhere.

“Riniras?" It was Charles.

She shifted in the tub, turning a bit in surprise. She hadn't heard anything other than the music and water. “Mmm?"

“I took the liberty of sending your travel clothes to be washed. There is a robe that you can wear, if you feel the need for one, just to the left of the door. If you need anything, pull the bell rope."

She stayed in the water for what felt like hours. She didn't even move for much of it, just soaked and relaxed. On a whim, she pulled the cord, and within a few seconds, the door opened.

“Yes, Riniras?"

“Food and drink, please."

“As you wish."

And it was as simple as that. Some short time later, he entered the room bearing a tray with bread, meat and cheese, vegetables, and a pitcher of wine.

She'd expected water, or maybe beer. Not wine. That would be wasted on her. … wouldn't it? Then again, she had paid for it. “Thank you."

“Of course." He smiled at her again, and left.

It wasn't until the door was shut and she felt the water slosh against her chest as she reached for some of the food that she realized that he'd seen her. Naked. And he hadn't recoiled. Not even a little bit.

She lost track of time again. She had no idea what time it was when she finally stepped out of the tub and reached for the towel. She'd expected it to be too small. They always were. When she found that she could wrap it completely around her chest, she almost laughed. It might as well be a sheet for most people. A large, soft, fluffy sheet. The robe was just as luxuriant, and she had to pause to consider it. It was wide enough to belt all the way around her, and her arms didn't stretch the sleeves. Yet the hem fell barely halfway down her thighs.

She left the empty tray on the side of the tub, and only then realized that she'd emptied the whole pitcher of wine. It had been sweet, and it was her first time experiencing something like it. Sweet enough that it hid the bite of the alcohol. She wasn't drunk, but she absolutely was tipsy.

When she entered the main room, Charles was there, standing next to a strange table. She hadn't noticed it before. Had it always been there?

“I thought that you might enjoy a massage," he said, indicating the table.

“No." She walked to the door to her bedroom, and only then added, “thank you." Shutting the door, she went to the bed. Large enough for her. Easily. She pulled the sheets down, running her calloused palm over the material. Silk? She didn't know other than it was smooth and cool. It was the best night's sleep she'd had in ages. Maybe ever.

*

The next day was like something out of a dream. Riniras had the irrational worry that she might lose her edge if she stayed here another day. But the food was good. Her attendant was quiet until she wanted him. And the bath. The bath was pure bliss. She had two meals brought to her while she was soaking, and Charles didn't treat it like anything other than a totally normal event.

This time when she stepped out of the bathroom, she'd had two pitchers of wine, and she was pleasantly buzzed. “Massage, please?"

The smile he gave her made her shiver, and feel warmth that had nothing to do with the fact that she had just come out of hot water. “Of course. If you would like to leave your robe by the table, I'll go get a few things."

She couldn't say why she did it. She couldn't even believe that she had until she felt the robe slip off of her shoulders while he was still in the room. While he was still facing her. She saw his eyes roam over her. Over the hard lines of her shoulders, her chest and abdomen, her blocky hips. Over her folds. She stood there, as if challenging him.

He was shorter than she was by a full head, and she'd expected him to blanche, or shy away. Instead, he turned, and took one of her hands to lead her to the table, and guided her to lay on her front. Whoever had built it had done a good job. It was softly padded, but slick. Something like leather, but not. There was a place for her to fit her muzzle down in, and the position was incredibly relaxing.

“I'll be right back," he promised.

When he started on her shoulders, she groaned out like she was in labor. His grip was strong, and seemed to be able to seek out the places that needed attention. Her neck, her upper back, her shoulders, everything he touched seemed to tense in petulant resistance, then melt away. “Don't stop," she whispered.

Charles started to work lower along her back, his hands brushing a scented oil into her short fur. His hands were warm. The table was warm. Riniras was warm.

The first touch to her buttocks got a groan out of her. Hard muscle from years of charging, fighting, holding enemies back all seemed to clench at once. Patiently, he worked his magical touch until she relaxed once more, her heels kicking up once and then falling back onto the massage table with thuds.

Her tail flicked back and forth against his wrists, and she considered, just for a moment, whether it was true that harm couldn't come to her, because she'd already died and gone to a blissful afterlife that she was certain she hadn't earned. The thought that made her giggle, in her own sonorous way, was that every time she'd heard a story about paying passage to the afterlife, it had been two coins, not three.

Her tittering was cut short when his fingers brushed between her legs, and she moaned again, deeper and more urgently. She almost felt ashamed at herself, at how much she needed the touch. At how responsive she was to it. At how quickly she came. It wasn't her first release ever, her own fingers had seen to that just as a matter of necessity. It wasn't even her first at the hands of another, though it was her second. Her whole frame shook, her fingers clutching at the end of the arm rests and making the metal groan in resonance with her own sounds.

Charles didn't stop, though he did ease up the pressure. Hands withdrew, and then started to unknot the remaining points on the back of her legs, and calf muscles, and then her feet.

Riniras lifted her chest off of the table and stood on legs that suddenly didn't seem to work correctly. She looked down at him, her jaw working a few times before she said, “Again, please?"

He smiled at her, and motioned toward the bed. Not the table. “After you."

She laid on the sheets, on her back this time. Legs parted just slightly, she watched him open his robe and shrug it off. His skin was smooth, and evenly tanned, or perhaps just it was his natural complexion. He climbed up into bed with her, and she closed her eyes as she felt the mattress shift with his weight.

When he kissed her thigh, she twitched in surprise, making a sound of confusion. It quickly dissolved into deep groan as his mouth pressed between her legs and he started to lick, kiss, and suck at her. One hand snapped back to the headboard, slamming it against the wall, her blunt nails gouging the wood as she quaked from her shoulders to her feet. Somehow he seemed to know just where to touch, just how to mix deft tongue and fingers with firmness.

When she came again, she bellowed out the wordless passionate call. A tiny portion of her mind, probably the same part that made the comment about three coins and not two, was surprised that the windows didn't shatter. She sucked a breath in, and then let most of it out before she said, “Again, please."

This time, he gathered her legs over his shoulders, one hand on the cobblestones of her abdominal muscles, the other curled around her leg. This time, he wasn't as deft. This time he simply dove in and used tricks she didn't know even existed. She felt the soft beard brushing her thick skin, she felt his mouth seal around her clit, she felt him press firmly in. And she felt him moan into her. She felt him as he expressed his own delight at her body.

Each touch sent her voice higher in pitch, and in volume. Fingers slid up into her, stroking places that she thought had been secret just to her. He found them. Each time he found one, he mercilessly tended it, as if it were another place that needed to be worked until it relaxed.

Riniras' heels locked behind his back, trying not to buck or throw this delightful human off of her as she clenched. Her pleas carried on, getting shorter and shorter. The more that he fingered her pussy, the more she begged. “Again, please," turned into simply “Again." That contracted further to alternating, “aaaaah!" and “nnnnngh!" as his fingers drew out more of her desires, and more of her need.

She arched her back up, her heels slamming into the mattress as he made her vision go white with stars flashing through her vision, roaring out as her body trembled and then went utterly slack.

When she came to her senses, he was still in bed with her. Laying next to her, arm across her chest, his head resting on her biceps. His knee brushed against her thigh and hip, his smooth skin ruffling the short brown coat of fur. She jerked once, not sure where she was. She turned her head slightly to look at him.

Charles gave her an impish smile. “Again?"

She nodded.

*

Two days later, Riniras walked out of the Endorff Inn. Smiling, radiant, and nine gold coins lighter than she'd entered. She'd insisted on the extra payment, because of the torn sheets from her horns and the damage to the headboard. And the massage table. And the crack in the tub from when Charles had set her off while she was soaking and she kicked too hard.

Mistress Endorff, who had never officially introduced herself, but that's who the beautiful woman had to be, promised that the damage was no trouble, and that Riniras would be welcome back. She'd told Riniras to only mention the inn to the 'right kind of people'.

Riniras looked left and right as she returned to the alley, and smiled as she felt the single flower that Charles had tucked between her ear and horn. It wasn't a fancy thing. Just a large meadow flower, with yellow petals and a large dark center. It made her blush, remembering just how many 'agains' he'd given her. A portion of her felt just a little guilty. He'd been willing, and able, but he had to be feeling utterly worn out after the demands she'd made. The third day had been nothing but sex.

He'd been… She couldn't describe it. He'd been inside of her, of course, but it hadn't been like anything she'd ever experienced. If she said that he was rough, that wasn't right. But if she said that he'd been gentle, that wasn't quite right either. If she said that he'd fucked her, that was both right, and wrong.

It didn't matter if she had gotten onto her hands and knees, or was on top of him, or was on her back. It didn't matter if he had used his mouth, his cock, or his hands. She was a big woman, and needed a firmer touch to get off. But he'd been only as firm as she'd needed. And while he had enjoyed his time with her, it hadn't ever been 'about' him. Or 'about' her. Or not totally about her.

She didn't have an answer to any of her questions by the time that she picked up her armor and axe. She didn't have an answer when she'd returned to the Adventurer's Guild and started to look over the postings.

“Who the fuck did you go to?"

Riniras scowled as she turned to see J'nag a few feet away.

He wasn't looking at the board, he was looking at her. At the flower. “Which whorehouse did you get into and how much did you have to pay someone to even look at your ug…" His words were cut off as her fist connected with his jaw, the blow bouncing his head off of the wall, and then crumpling the mage to the floor. He wasn't dead. She'd pulled the blow.

The room was silent, and not because of the display of casual violence. These were adventurers. Fistfights were common enough that there wasn't any furniture in the area surrounding the job board. As long as no weapons were drawn, and no one died, and there wasn't too much collateral damage, the Guild just accepted it as part of doing business. This was the first time that anyone could remember that Riniras hadn't just taken the casual insult.

She turned back to the board, and picked one of the notices off. It was a much lower difficulty than she could normally handle, but she also didn't really care. She could handle this on her own rather than joining with a new group. Turning to the window, she slid the paper and her Guild pendant across the counter.

The elf on the other side did the requisite marking, stamping and signing. Normally, there would be some conversation. Details not covered in the notice, or inquiries about how the previous job had gone. Everyone was too shocked that the barbarian had stood up for herself. When the elf maiden slid the pendant back, she couldn't help herself, though. “Where did you go?"

Riniras winked. “Maybe I'll tell you some day."

---

This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any characters, living, dead or imaginary is purely a coincidence. All characters are a product of the author's imagination and copyright to them, unless noted guest appearances of other copyrighted characters are listed in this notice. Comments may be left (and are encouraged!) on the author's FurAffinity or SoFurry page. If you liked this story, and wish to support the author, please visit their Patreon.

This story is a work of fiction. Any immoral acts included in this story are a fantasy and should not be taken as encouragement to perform or endorsement of these acts by the author. Specifically, because apparently it needs to be said; anything other than expressed consent for any sexual encounter by a legal unimpaired sentient adult is wrong, immoral, and evil. Unwilling subjugation of sentients who have committed no crime is wrong, immoral, and evil.