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“I'm Rylan, by the way."

“Oh, yes...Rylan. Vi mentioned you minded things during off-hours."

The equine anthro brought her to the first stop in his tour of the club. Violetta had carved out a niche when it came to adult entertainment (no points for guessing why). Folks didn't have a lot of experience living alongside genetically-modified humans like Rylan, and they'd only begun to crop up across the West. They were still thought of as a fiction in other parts of the world, but after enough time passed there would be no denying the truth of what scientific advancement had garnered. Outside of a few states across Unimerica, they were a rare sight.

But that didn't stop the fascination with their kind from spreading, even into...dirtier corners of society.

Oh Vi, Molly thought, you enterprising bitch!

Rylan glanced over his shoulder at her. Molly paused, feeling a lump in her throat. Did she say that out loud?

“Uhh, something wrong?" she asked him. Rylan shook his head. “Nope, just checking if you're keeping up with me."

The pair resumed their walk. “Do you...um...live here?"

Rylan smiled. “No, I've got an apartment, far from the busy side of town. But good attempt at conversation. I do spend a lotta time here. There's a gym on the floor above." He pointed at the ceiling. “Technically it's a separate business but the boss-lady owns both."

“Huh."

He also added a wink as he gestured to his attire. “These are my daytime clothes. Usually I'm wearing a lot less!"

They moved past a reception counter into an open area, dotted with tables and chairs. A pair of heavy-set curtains guarded the entrance to this theatre. A fully-stocked bar protruded from one of the walls. It wasn't small, but it wasn't large either. Molly knew there was more to come, especially behind the doors on the far side.

Rylan stopped Molly. “Can I take your coat?"

“Sure, here." Molly finally released her tight hold on her coat and handed it over. Rylan folded it neatly and draped it over his forearm. “Can get hot when the air con's turned off."

“Well," Molly sniggered, “isn't that part of the job? Make things steamy?"

“Oh you...I like you," Rylan grinned, patting her on the back. “A lot."

Okay, Molly mulled over impressions so far with the aid of her internal monologue, first anthro...going good so far. Let's try not to fuck it up.

What should I ask? Don't want to seem—

“Specie-ist?"

Molly snapped back from her wayward thoughts when Rylan spoke.

“Easy, Molly," he said, “you're wondering what you should ask me, and are worried that you might offend me. I'm you're first, right?"

“How did you guess?" she sighed, a meek quality to her voice.

Rylan scratched his neck. “I know how to work a customer. Part of job, y'know. Plus, you look like you've shit all the colour outta your body!"

“That bad, huh?"

“Yeah. Just know that you can ask me a bunch of questions, and I won't be offended by...well most of them. As long as they're not slurs."

“Oh I wouldn't even know any slurs for your kind."

“Good start," he said as he led Molly through the maze of tables. “Ask away!"

“What's the money like?"

“Ooh," Rylan jeered, “you and Vi really are cut from the same cloth, aren't you? Well, money's good. Tips are great. Provided you got the moves."

“I have moves," she said, “I'm just way, way out of practice."

“Boss-lady's told me already. You were quite the firebrand in your college years I hear."

Molly blushed, and crossed her arms. “That was some time ago."

“No time like the present. You're on the cusp of big changes."

“I know."

“Let me be first to say congrats on making the choice."

“Thanks!" Molly pottered around, idly kicking the floor with her heel. “I gotta ask: what's it like? Living as an anthro? Were you always one?"

“If you'd spare some time for a story, I'll fill you in." Rylan winked and grabbed an upturned stool from the bar, positioning it right-way-up and shifting his body onto the seat. A low groan escaped him as he rested his legs. “You're in luck, I was originally human. Before becoming a hybrid I lived in the North-East. Did the usual: finished school...went looking for work...tried to hold down relationships when they came. Caught wind of a job offer that required greater-than-human ability, so I hit it up. This was back when hybrids were first hitting the news if my memory's holding up alright."

“Oh, so you changed in order to get work."

“Yeah. As for life now? Well, size-wise it takes some getting used to. The shortest equine or bovine I met, who shared the job with me, was seven foot. Other species aren't as tall, but I never encountered them until I started here. Which was different. You never quite stop hitting your head on doorways, y'know! That didn't phase me when I was out working, it was outdoors-y — forestry, landscaping, that kinda stuff. Liked it, but in search of a decent nightlife I discovered I had other passions."

“Nice story."

“I could ramble more, but that would be a lot on first meeting, doncha think?"

Molly nodded, sending a soft smile his way. “So you got into dancing after your...um...transformation. That's cool."

“Mm-hmm," Rylan mumbled, his dark lips scrunching up as he furrowed his brow. “It sounds funny. Kinda. Big buff horse working manual labour turning to stripping for the heck of it." He paused, looking back at Molly, who ate up his words with a hunger he hadn't seen in many others. “I'm a star attraction here, know that? I can draw a crowd."

“I bet," said Molly, giving a light giggle to proceedings. “Something about you screams 'hot'."

“Heh. True. Most of the country still views us as exotic. New. Alien...and they can't decide what to make of us. That confusion manifests itself in the most peculiar ways."

“You're saying they find you super-hot, right? I'm not just imagining things?"

“Nope. You're right on the money. Not all, but many do. Eh, humans...who can blame 'em?" Rylan rose from his stool and flexed his upper body for show. “See?"

Molly reached out, unsure of whether to touch him. A furtiveness surged inside her. Without paying attention, she'd lain her hand on his bicep. The strange, prickly yet subtle sensation of his fur left her curiosity piqued.

Quickly — noticing him staring — she withdrew her hand.

“Yeah, sorry, that was weird."

“Molly, it's fine. It's all new to you."

The horse offered her his hand. “Okay newbie. Let's get this tour underway, huh? Bet you're wondering what the rest of Violetta looks like."

* * *

Any questions Molly had about the establishment were swiftly answered by her soon-to-be colleague. Rylan was patient with his answers, even after she learned he was spending his time off here, traipsing around the club, guiding her. A courtesy he gave to any new employees, he'd assured her. Still, Molly felt she was burdening him, and sought to keep it snappy.

Their first stop in the tour was through the lounge/bar combo they'd spent awhile chatting in, getting the dull part of the tour over with first. Back-room offices weren't the most exciting part of working in a strip club, but paperwork was paperwork — no matter what business produced it! Once enough dallying over the minutiae of printer-paper recycling and the use of basic fire safety equipment had passed, Rylan grabbed Molly's arm with giddy strength, hurtling her 'round the next corner to a stairwell. Descending the steps, Molly sensed the change in atmosphere. No longer did the overpowering daylight seep into the club, in its place was a rumbling intensity spurred on by the descent from bright to dark. The hue of the rooms turned deep blue, with low florescence.

“We open up at nine," Rylan mentioned to her, “time enough to lubricate the patrons. Shows typically start at half."

Molly nodded along to his explanation. Nine. Nine-thirty. She made a mental note of the times.

“And this," he declared, barging through double-doors, “is where the main event takes place!"

Molly stepped into the vast area, her vision suddenly awash with fine velvet, neat furnishings, and an inescapable feeling of hallowed enchantment. This wasn't a dingy stage where local girls performed, this was a god-damned theatre. Luscious, crimson shafts of light spread from the ceiling — the empty room allowing her to absorb the entire ambiance. The lush, sinful colours...the wondrous presentation...

Only one thing crossed her mind as she scoured the scenery as fiercely as possible.

“How did Vi afford this place?"

Rylan laughed, shrugging before patting her on the back. The heavy palm set against her small frame and shrank her. Molly felt small. From both the room and the hybrid.

“Exotic makes money. You'd be surprised how much this club makes."

“Peeking at the books?"

“No," he smirked, “just intuition. Boss-lady's gotta knack...a certain special something...that brings people from far and wide. We've a reputation to uphold, one established across many years of exciting and daring performances."

“There's no need to sell this to me," she answered, venturing further into the room, “I can't even..."

She turned to Rylan. “What even goes on here!?"

“This is Stage One," he said, a matter-of-fact tone to his speech, “it's the biggest and best. See how the stage juts far into the centre of the room. We call that the 'Thrust', it's where stars like me shine brightest."

Watching her suppress a groan, he continued: “this stage opens only for special occasions. Extravagant, synchronised multi-dancer performances. The rest of the time, we stick to the others."

Others? “Wait, there's still more?"

“Of course."

Wow, Molly thought. That was about the extent of her appreciation in the moment. Violetta's huge!

* * *

“Stage Two."

Rylan opened the door for her yet again, revealing to Molly a smaller room that retained the same opulence. The realisation that Vi's establishment was far larger than she expected had tripped her mood from a sort of careful eagerness to gobsmacked awe. They were still downstairs, having entered a side-room after navigating the maze of booths and tables from the main stage.

“This and Stage Three are about the same, only Three's adjacent to the other side."

“Okay," Molly said, looking around. “I can see why you don't always open up the main stage, this is a good size too." She noticed, in contrast to Stage One, the permanent treated metal poles that ran from ceiling to floor. This place was less showy, more straightforward, hearkening back to her days (or rather: nights) in college. “Yeah, this was what I expected — not the monstrosity out there!"

Rylan moved beside her. “Hey! You could be on that monstrosity in a month or two if you have the right appeal."

Molly snorted. “Sure. Like I'd get top billing in a strip club of all places."

“That's harsh," he said, “you know what the job entails. So what if you're not happy with your looks."

“No, it's not that...I didn't mean—"

“Look, not my business but that's no attitude to carry around." The equine anthro took a second to breathe, then led her back out of the side-stage. “Besides, we're done here."

“So," Molly repeated what she'd learned, “we've got three stages and several bars. It's big. Very big."

“Yes, but when I brought you down did you not notice the stairs going up?"

“Hmm?"

“C'mon, Ms. Bradshaw," he beamed, “you've only seen downstairs!"

* * *

Up above the ground floor were two more stages: Four and Five. In contrast to the downstairs rooms, the scale of everything had shrunk significantly. “Smaller, private areas for up-close-and-personal encounters," as Rylan had explained.

“You mean sex right?" Molly jabbed her elbow into his side.

“Ms. Bradshaw! How could you insinuate such a thing? This is a fine law-abiding establishment."

At that very instant, the lights turned on. Every inch of Stage Five was bathed in a discriminating glow, stripping away the pretence. Molly spied beds and silken covers, poles and mood lighting. “Now what's you're excuse," she joked.

A deep, hearty chuckle emanated from Rylan, the large equine's shoulders shaking with each rousing bout of laughter.

The humour died down, and Molly was left with a solid pit at the base of her stomach, gnawing at her. Make fun of it or not, it was still...

“Have you—?"

“Me? Sometimes. Depends."

“That's—"

“Nobody demands us to. It's for those among us who have needs beyond showing off."

Molly gulped. She glanced down at the floor. On the way, she caught sight of his tight gym shorts, and the bulge that lurked beneath. I bet you do.

“Guess you're not the type for these stages," he said, “but you still need to know where things are...just in case" He cocked a sly grin. “Let's finish up, shall we?"

He advanced, moving toward Molly. His fingers caught the underside of her chin and he lifted her head to meet his. “Naughty, naughty," he teased, “saw you peeking."

“Oh, sorry...I didn't—"

“You're not my type Molly. I like you. I think you've got what's needed. But it's better to keep things professional, agree?"

“Yeah...I'm really sorry, it just...you just...distracted me..."

“No problem, we are in a strip club after all! What's a little eye candy between friends, hmm? I won't charge you for this time, but do it again!" he jeered, waggling his finger in front of her face, “and you better be able to cash the cheques you're writing with those eyes."

Interesting way of putting it, she thought.

Another sweep through the halls of Violetta brought Molly to the backstage areas. Dressing rooms and wardrobes reminded her of a film set rather than a strip club. There was serious money in some of those costumes, she noted, seas of sequins and ribbons confronting her at every turn. The forest of outfits parted in two as she was led out by Rylan into the backstage proper.

“We're behind Stage One," he explained, “the stairs we just took lets staff go up-and-down between the floors."

Molly listened, forcing herself to remember the layout of the club. “This is more of a real theatre than any club I've been in."

“It does feel that way, doesn't it?" Rylan put his hand through a curtained opening, pulling back the heavy fabric to offer her a glimpse of the bar and seating. “We thought it would be good to take a few hints from the professionals when it came to putting on a show!"

“Are they really that impressive?"

Rylan bore a smug expression. “If you saw them for yourself, you wouldn't be so doubtful."

“Well...I trust you so far. I don't have a reason to think Vi doesn't know what she's doing...or else she wouldn't have all this."

“That's the spirit," Rylan said, bringing her onto the stage. Molly noticed the gantry above, with poles and swings tucked into the ceiling, ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. Looking across the audience section, her senses were consumed by the clamouring of a fictitious crowd. Her mind filled in the blanks — giving her a taste of the attention she might garner.

“And..." she muttered, walking centre-stage, “and...that's all, is it?"

Rylan grunted. “Mmmph. You've seen pretty much all of the club. Barring the other businesses sharing our building—"

“Like the gym you go to," she interrupted, turning around to face him from a distance, “do many hybrids use it?"

“Some. I seem 'em every now-and-then."

“How many humans?"

“A few — but they tend to work here or know about our little den of vice. Nobody who isn't involved in the running of the club in some way — client or employee — really tends to drive this far out. Which works for us, but has its drawbacks. Plenty of potential for cabin fever!"

Molly approached him. Silent. Her focus was elsewhere in the room.

He continued: “we thought about putting in a swimming pool in the complex, if we ever hired anyone of an aquatic persuasion."

“Are there? I've only heard about land species being used as part of the transformation."

“Heh, don't think so. It was only ever spit-balling. Would be annoying to have to deal with water all the time."

Molly and Rylan walked from the stage to the bar. “So," he said, “did you enjoy your first look at the place?"

“Can't complain. Bigger than I thought."

Rylan placed a hand on his side, above his short pocket. “Well, my phone's just vibrated — I can hazard a guess the boss-lady's just tagged in. Expect she'll want to say hi." Molly glanced over her shoulder at the door, unopened. “Go on," the large horse said, prodding her forward. He handed her coat back.

Molly waved at the anthro as she left him behind. Before she'd even reached the handle the door into Stage One flew open. Violet was there, looking rushed.

Speak of the Devil.

Molly watched her take another step inside — absent-minded, seemingly ignoring her friend. It took a second for her to register Molly's presence.

“Hey Vi."

“Molly!" She broke out of her fugue. “Great! You found us after all!"

Delivered from Rylan's presence to Violet's, Molly followed the proprietor to her office. Inside, she found a plush chair waiting for her, positioned opposite Vi's desk. Sinking into the cushions, she gave a sigh, watching her new boss take the leather one behind the cluttered desk. “I really need to clean up," Vi said, huffing as the sight of her mess reminded her of work unfinished. “Just gimme a sec to find the right papers."

“Take your time," Molly hummed, flexing her fingers while she placed her coat on the armrest. “I've got the whole day to myself."

“I'm sure you have lots to talk about, Molls, especially about the job."

“No shit!" she blurted aloud, excitement ruining her composure. Vi raised an eyebrow at her friend's attitude. “Worried about what comes next?"

“Yeah. How did—?"

“I'm very good at my job, that's how." She paused briefly. “Pfft, no! Be serious Molls, I'd be surprised if you weren't feeling concerned. Rylan give you trouble?"

“Hmm? No! No, he was fine. Showed me around."

“That's good. Guy's a sweetie but he has a certain way of talking to people that puts some of them off."

“I didn't have a problem with it."

“Great. He's my go-to guy whenever things go wrong. Think of him as a mentor to the performers."

“Is he the only 'veteran'."

Vi reclined in the chair. “Oh no. Not at all! Wouldn't have a place this fancy if I banked it all on one star, would I? No, Rylan is the best male stripper on staff. In my opinion, naturally. But you can't argue with the intake. There's quite a demand for rugged, handsome types from our customers. Not a lot of available candidates when compared to softer, slimmer bodies, you see. But when it comes to female performers, there's plenty of seasoned ladies. You'll meet them in time, once you're on board." Vi screwed open a small cylindrical container attached to a keychain, plucking an old-fashioned metal key from its depths. “Don't judge me for my security setup," she joked, “yes I should invest in something safer, but the money goes into the visible parts of my business. I trust you won't try to steal anything anyhow."

Molly observed her friend unlock a drawer beneath her computer and slide it open. “I'll get some docs you can look at, just a moment...need to find them..."

Changing the subject, Molly spoke: “so, when you say 'seasoned' performers, what are we talking about?"

Vi stopped her search to answer her friend's question, biting her lip as she composed her reply. “About? You asking their ages?"

“Well, I...um. Maybe. Is that allowed?"

“Confidentiality is confidentiality. My employees are precious to me," Vi spoke with a flat tone, “but I can say some are hitting our age. Which is partly why I wanted you."

Violet's earnest reveal gave Molly pause. She hesitated, and Vi seized the opportunity to wax about their situation. “Molls, we haven't seen each other face-to-face for many years, and the first time we do you're all over me about what you've read on the Internet regarding hybrids."

“I did go a little deep into a rabbit hole online, yes. But that can't be the only reason you offered me this job."

“Is that not a good enough reason. You're a close friend. Friends give friends jobs, provided we keep serious nepotism at bay, yes? It's more than that, however, it's deeper." Vi pulled a cache of files from her desk and slammed them onto the disorganised surface. “A lot of things written online are complete bullshit, but...there are some facts I can corroborate for certain."

Vi continued: “Molls — it's true what they say about the procedure. It's like you dial the clock back twenty, thirty years physically. That's not counting the changes that add to your life, like better resilience to disease...more efficient metabolism...fitter...tougher..."

“I guessed as much," said Molly, “I've not been physically active in a while, so the reason why you decided to give me the opportunity hadn't escaped me."

“I mean...duh!? You never shut up about the idea a couple of weeks ago!"

“There's something else," she whispered, “something I don't get yet."

“Oh?"

“Have you not thought about it yourself?"

“Me?" Vi laid her palm on her collarbone, feigning shock. “Go through the anthromorphing process? You think I haven't thought about it?"

“You don't say a lot on the matter."

“True," Vi lowered her hand. She looked to the side, avoiding Molly's gaze. “I'll admit, I want to see how someone I trust finds it first."

“There's the cold, calculating bitch I know!" Molly burst into bouts of laughter. Vi's face reddened slightly as the harsh sounds stripped away part of her facade.

“Caught me red-handed," she announced, raising her arms in a gesture of surrender. “I do want a guinea pig before I make my own decision. Does that bother you?"

“No. I know what you're like, Vi. I've always known what your like — I'm you friend for God's sake!"

“Best friends still?"

Molly smiled and nodded. “Of course."

“This doesn't change anything? I mean...you might get cold feet if I make it sound like there's danger involved."

“No danger," Molly said, “I know that much. Not in a long time has there been a complication in the process. If there's one thing a bunch of genetically-modified humans are sure to do, it's make sure their lives aren't jeopardised by bad technology."

“Well," Vi coughed, her expression shifting to one of intense interest, “have you...chosen a species yet? I did send you a list of ones that gel well with this profession."

Molly rubbed her shoulder. “I have. I'm gonna keep that a surprise for you, if that's all above board contract-wise."

“It is," Vi answered, pleased with her friends ambition.

As documents changed hands, their business was done. After weeks of planning, phones calls, and rumination...Molly was ready to take the plunge. A new life. A renewed life. Fresh with brand new experiences. It awaited her. Her fate sealed itself as her pen scratched across the dotted line. “Now," Vi said, “I can fulfil my half of the deal."

Molly always had a wild side, something constrained by the norms of society. Who doesn't, to be honest? But she had a chance to see it let loose — to feel the wind of her ancient past suffuse her. Both the novelty and the practicality appealed to her.

What better way to earn money than by tapping into that animal spirit deep down?

Vi couldn't agree more!

* * *

Official acceptance in-hand, Vi dutifully escorted Molly home. Her friend was in the process of moving into a new house, deposit paid for by Violet. It was part of a small NuPlex-pattern housing complex — a series of slender dwellings placed side-by-side in a compact fashion, making the most of the available space by arranging the buildings in tight circular avenues. Easy to build and cheap to maintain, they offered a reasonable standard of living when compared to the sprawling suburbs of centuries prior. A home's a home, and Molly didn't care about the particulars. As long as it was affordable. She sat in Vi's passenger seat as she was driving home, a small twinge of guilt hanging around; stemming from something she couldn't control, but felt bad for all the same...

“Sorry my car died in your parking lot," she said glumly, watching street-lights flash by.

“No problem. I can get a mechanic to look at it tomorrow, I know who's reliable in this town."

“Thanks."

“So this is where you've chosen," Vi said, as the car pulled in. “Quiet neighbourhood."

“Quiet enough," Molly interjected, “it's close to the main part of town but far enough away to have some calm to it."

“First time seeing your place. Sorry I can't stay for a house-warming — it's getting dark. Work's only just begun for me at the club." She smiled and opened the doors. “When did you get here?" she asked, noticing some cardboard boxes in the front window.

“Arrived yesterday. Signed on with the landlord to make things official this morning."

“Oh Molls," Vi smirked, “after working with me for a while, renting won't be necessary!"

“Promising the sky, eh Vi?"

Violet tilted her head. “You know it!"

After stepping out from the car, Molly drew a big breath — enjoying the cool air. Vi slammed her door shut and walked towards the house. Molly's ears picked up the sounds of whistling, diminishing as her friend moved further and further away.

“Can't be that impressive," she shouted, careful to keep the volume low.

“Well it's cute," Vi said, twirling to face Molly, “I assume it's new? Got the latest Home Assist AI?"

“Yeah."

“Nice." A brief pause ensued, giving Molly time to catch up to her friend. Once the pair reached the front door, Violet gestured to her. “Okay then. I'll say goodbye for now. Let me know if you need anything. New town, new job...new life..." she giggled softly at her last word. “Say, you could be the only one around who's—"

“What?"

Violet rolled her eyes. “Y'know — different. Or gonna be, at least."

“I'm not there yet Vi. But I suppose you're right." Wonder how that'll go down, she asked herself.

“Okay Molls. Give me a call in a day or two. Seeyah!"

Violet left Molly to contemplate opening the front door. After what felt like an hour, Molly slid the key into the lock, and waited for the electronic security to recognise her and disable itself. Breathing fast; shallow, noiseless breaths accompanied her entry. Once the door was closed, she was finally alone.

“Big day," she said, her voice carrying through the house.

Big day indeed. Met my first hybrid. Nice guy.

God, it's weird even thinking about what I'm doing. I'll be like him soon. After my procedure...

“Right," she declared, pushing her long-term plans aside, “four days 'til my appointment...plenty of time to unpack and meet the neighbours."

Glancing at the living room, she noted the piles upon piles of boxes. Unopened. Just taunting her with the scale of the task. There's gotta be someone willing to give me a hand if I ask politely, she reckoned, pondering the notion of introducing herself to the person the next unit over. Although, is it still early enough to ask? Could chance it. Hmm...what kinda impression would that leave?

Checking the time on her phone, Molly sighed and stared out of the window. The well-planned avenue was drenched in a warm orange colour from the street-lights, coating the surface of the asphalt like an industrial-strength icing on a crushed-stone cake. The daylight seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes, announcing its lateness.

Molly yawned.

Eh, it can wait until morning.