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[b][u][center]Something To Hold Onto

Part 1

for Catsithx

by Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

A grieving man had little regrets and fewer hesitations. James Holder was the epitome of a grieving man tonight, and it showed in the way that he played poker. Every bet was big, and every win was bigger.

The young man leaned back in his chair, the cheap thing already creaking and groaning from the number of times that he'd leaned back and almost fallen over. The booze on the side of the chip pile had been drained two, three, four times now, and he was working through his fifth glass. It was on credit at the moment, but the sheer number of chips in front of him were of such high amounts that he could cash out, pay off the debt of himself and a dozen other addicts, and then walk out of the slum-casino more than a hundred times richer than he had walked in.

[i]Spite's a hell of a drug,[/i] he thought, waving a hand through the smoke as the dealer put out another three cards in response to the latest discard. He glanced at them, then tossed a couple thousand into the pot. The other players mostly bowed out, with two others matching him.

They paid the price at the next turn, and walked away from the table. James chuckled, the sound almost as bitter as the feeling in the back of his throat.

"You done yet, sir?" the older man in the dealer's chair asked.

"Ain't done until there's nothing left to play," he muttered, tapping his chips.

"Well, you aren't getting anything without someone else at the table."

"Do it yourself."

"Dealer's not allowed."

Grumbling under his breath, James leaned back again. He started to put his boot on the table, only for the dealer to flash him a glare and make him think better of it. Even through the vodka haze, he doubted that it would be a good idea to piss off the casino staff. They could take his winnings away if he didn't cash out first. He'd been smart enough to squirrel away enough for a cab ride home, but...

Well, considering that he might not have a home to go back to, due to the cheating going on...

[i]Dammit, stop thinking about that.[/i]

He shut his eyes, putting the image of the brunette that he'd been dating out of his head. Six months, six months where he'd finally allowed her to move in, when they were starting to put together a life for themselves, and she'd all but drained his bank account and kicked him to the curb with some rich lawyer that offered her more. Fucking -

He put it out of his head. They had made him see what they were doing, forced him to watch by fucking at the front door when they knew he was coming home from work. The message was clear. He was replaced, and there were no ifs, ands, or buts about that.

He'd come out here as a distraction. Desperation to get money, at first. He'd thought that maybe he'd hire someone to kill her for the humiliation that she'd given him. Then the moment passed, and he didn't want that. The drink probably helped with that.

Now, he didn't know what he wanted. He knew that he'd need money, though. She took everything. Always had, always would. He sighed, tapping his chip against the table.

"Five minute warning, sir," the dealer said.

"Ugh."

"I'd cash out."

"I want more."

"You've had more than enough. That's at least five-hundred thousand there."

"I. Want. More."

And he didn't even know for what, just that he did. Something that would make him happier, something that would make him comfortable for the rest of his life. Something that would let him do what he wanted rather than relying on someone else. He could rely on himself, and...and...

Ugh. He didn't know what he'd do. All he knew was that he was angry, and depressed, and -

The only thing that made the feelings shut up was another blast of booze. He drained half the cup and slammed it back down, shaking his head afterward.

"I'll wait."

"As you wish, sir."

Nobody approached the table. It seemed that the little story of the stranger that had come around to break the bank had already made its way around the casino, and nobody wanted to lose their money any further than they already had. James wondered if it might be a better idea to head over to the blackjack table or something like that, but those tables only fed the chips right back into the casino's coffers. If he lost here, at least the winnings went to another player.

He shook his head, looking down at his winnings. He really could get a new house with this, and then a new car. He could live good on it for a while as he looked for something better. Why bother going for more?

[i]Because then I don't have to worry about someone taking away part of it...[/i]

The five minutes were almost up when someone new came to the table. Fine suit, too, not someone that usually fit the slums and dives that they were in. He cocked his head to the side at the new guy, particularly as Mr. Business Suit sat down at the table. He tossed a red chip down on the table, prompting a little gasp from the dealer.

"I'll take this guy on," the suited man said.

"You'll need more than that," James muttered. "What the hell is that, anyway?"

"Something that you don't need to worry about," the other guy said as the dealer snatched the chip into the pot. "Just pony up everything, and be thankful that I'm willing to play such small odds."

"Small -"

"The bet for the hand is at ten million."

James whipped his head to the side, staring at the dealer and more than willing to call bullshit. He was about to do just that until he saw that the dealer was already nodding. What. The. Fuck?

He didn't know what was going on, but he knew that this was going to be a one-hand game. There was no building up with this one. Taking his first five cards, he arranged them slowly, cocking his head to the side. He shifted them around a few times, then shuffled them, then rearranged them. The stranger just smiled.

"So, you feel lucky?" the new guy asked.

"I feel something."

"Been wasting a lot of time for the casino here."

"You some kind of high-roller, or some kind of thug?"

"I see if someone deserves to keep what they've won."

"Really? Well, I deserve all this."

"And why would someone like you deserve that much money?" Mr. Business Suit asked, sitting with one leg folded over the other, his head cocked to the side. "It's not like there's anything you've earned it with."

"Life's screwed me. I'm getting even."

"We'll see."

There was no initial betting past the pot. He couldn't bet more as it was, and the other guy didn't seem interested in trying to make him fold by flooding the pot. Instead, he just smiled, tossing away three cards. James threw away two. They both got their new cards, checking their hands.

"Hmmm, hmmm."

"Heh, sounds like you're not keen."

"Feeling pretty good, actually."

"We'll see who wins."

"Tell me, you think that life owes you something? Just because you're miserable?"

"I think that life needs a kick in the nuts for what it did to me. Since it ain't got the balls for kicking, I'm getting what I can here."

He didn't know what this guy was here for. He knew that he had been pissing off the casino by winning as much as he had, but he knew that was just part of the business. If someone went out to a casino for the night, there was a slim chance that they would walk away with a lot of money. A casino knew that, and while they rigged the game, they still had to deal with occasional winners.

If this guy was here as a last ditch attempt to win the pot back, then James was fine with that. It meant that this was real. That he'd earned it.

The dealer waited to see if either of them would fold. He was tempted for a second, considering the sheer size of the bet on the table, but even if he did, what was the point? He'd be as destitute if he folded as he would be if he went with it, so he might as well go all the way and see where it took him. James nodded at the other guy, who rolled his cards over.

"A house full of luck," the other man said, turning his cards over. Three Aces, two Kings. Hearts, diamonds, and clubs all peered up at him and the dealer. "Any luck beating that?"

"..."

"Heh, I thought not."

James grabbed Mr. Business Suit's hand as it reached across the table, pinching it at the wrist. The dealer and the other player paused, looking at him as he slowly smiled.

"That's all you got?" James asked.

"What, you got something better?"

"I just thought a ringer would be better than that."

He lowered his hand to the table. Spades, all the way across, running from ace, to king, to queen, all the way down to the ten of spades.

"Royal flush."

"..."

"I'm taking the pot tonight."

"...Fuck."

He gathered up his chips, tucking all of his into a tray, but taking a moment to look at the red one that Mr. Business Suit had tossed down. The ringer had already walked off, leaving just him and the dealer at the table. He held it up.

"What the fuck is this thing?"

"It's a special chip."

"Really ten mil?"

"More than that. It's got...high value, sir. It's got the sort of value that lets you ask for huge favors."

"Heh...I'll remember that."

"Sir."

He turned, looking at the two security guards that had appeared out of nowhere. They gently pulled at his shoulders.

"It's time for you to cash out."

"...Guess it is."

#

Out in the cold night air, he was reminded of one of the many reasons that he hadn't done anything about Jessie, and why he had come this far out into the middle of nowhere to gamble. A few half-feral Growlithe rooted through the garbage can outside, dragging little bits and pieces of food scraps and worse for their dinner or their amusement. Some Fearow flew through the air further up, coming down and alighting on some of the condemned buildings in the neighborhood. Still others were just making their way over to the far side of the casino, looking for someone to jump. Those were the Mankey and Primates, the gangs of Pokemon in the area.

Jessie was a Pokemon trainer herself, and that meant that she had defenses. He knew that she could push back anytime that he went up against her, and prior to the break-up, he'd been happy that she had something to take care of her, ensuring that she'd be safe when he was working longer hours. Now, it meant that she had something to keep him at arm's length, and something to hurt him with if he ever got close to her again.

He fondled the red chip that he still had in his pocket. The stupid thing was the only thing that the casino refused to cash out. They let him keep it, saying that it could be spent in different ways, but refused to get that deep into it. All they said was that he better make sure that whatever he bought was damn well worth it, because nobody would be able to give him change for it.

[i]Whatever that means.[/i]

At least the rest of the payout was in cash. He wasn't putting that money into his account for a while, not when he was half-sure that Jessie would reach out and take it if she heard about the windfall. He was keeping this part hidden.

Knowing that he still had a fair bit of anger to burn, and knowing that he needed more than booze to bury it, he pulled out his phone. He keyed in a search for strip clubs, erased that, and put in something a little more specific.

#

[i]One week later...[/i]

James had become a regular of the [i]Swaying Tails,[/i] a strip club that specifically offered Poke-Morph dancers. Or two-legged Pokemon. Or Beast-Dancers, as some of the more disparaging people tended to call them. Whatever name that someone used, they were Pokemon that had the ability to speak, that walked on two legs, and had more 'human' sexual characteristics. They were still covered in fluff, fur, and more, and they tended to have the same sort of elemental leanings as their wilder counterparts, but they were still very non-human.

He liked that. With the way that Jessie had treated him, he honestly didn't feel very trusting towards most humans anymore, and he was burnt out on the idea of looking at other women to date. He felt like he'd be taken advantage of if he didn't have something to put a barrier between him and her like that, and at least here, in a professional environment, he could take his time to really enjoy the females around him without having to deal with all the drama.

In the last week, he had seen several major beauties, from a rather powerfully alluring Charizard woman to a hip-swaying Espeon that had offered him a chat in his cups, so that he could get all the different feelings he had off his chest without having to get that explanatory about it. The strippers were honestly good people.

But the best of them, as far as he was concerned, was Crystal.

The Alolan Ninetails had been the one that he'd seen first on his first night, and it was who he kept coming back to see. The others were nice, kind enough, sexy enough, but she was a drop-dead gorgeous female that made it hard to look away, and harder still to believe that he had to wait another night to see her. If she hadn't been a Pokemon, he would have thought he was falling for her, though that had to be impossible.

Right then, he sat at a table with a small whiskey in hand. He wore better clothes than he had been wearing the last time, having hit a clothing store and gotten a house in the last 24 hours. It wasn't the best house out there, but it was his, outright, and he had everything that he needed to start a better life for himself once more. He had the money to tip a lot, too, which he was more than happy to do with the dancers here.

Crystal slowly sauntered forward, her fishnet stockings striking with black against her blue-white fur. She slowly strutted along the stage, making her way to him, extending her leg over the edge and almost touching his cheek with her paws, only to turn and march back the way she'd come. He smiled the whole time, shaking his head as he watched her ass as she swayed with every step.

She was beautiful, and he was more than happy to make it rain as her music came to an end. He tossed three fifties across the stage, each one landing at her feet. She knew who was throwing them, and she met his eyes with a smile. A cool smile, to be sure, but a smile nonetheless.

The stage cleared, and he leaned back, sipping his drink. James knew that she'd have another performance later, but for now, he was good with waiting.

"Here again, huh?"

Looking over his shoulder, he wasn't surprised to find Ember there. The Charizard woman was one of the less-frequent dancers at the club, and he half-suspected that she was here as a customer as much as she was as an employee. Certainly, he'd caught her looking at the other dancers more often than at the crowd. He smiled, sliding over a bit to give her room, and she sat down at the table with him.

"So, what's going on?" she asked.

"Oh, just enjoying the show."

"You enjoy us more than most of the other schmucks around here."

"Well, I like what I like."

"And you apparently like Pokemon more than humans."

"Is it that obvious?"

"You've spent more than a thousand a night for the last week. I think it's pretty damn obvious."

"...Guess so," he muttered, sipping at his whiskey.

Ember shook her head with a rueful smile, leaning forward. She was in her leather gear today, a corset that ran from her hips all the way to just under her breasts. Black tape x-es covered her nipples, keeping her in the modest range, but only just. Her thick hips were just barely hidden by a black skirt that didn't quite run all the way to the bottom of her ass, and her thick tail was always raising it.

She wasn't his favorite dancer, but that didn't mean that she wasn't sexy as hell.

"You know, you're making us compete," she said.

"What, for tips?"

"For that, yeah. And your attention. Not the easiest thing to find, a customer that actually enjoys us for the different things that [i]we[/i] like doing. Plus, you pay tons more than the boss does."

"It's that bad?"

"It's that bad. I think most of us are working off about...twenty thousand, thirty thousand in debt?"

His eyebrows almost jumped off his head at that. He'd expected that a few of the dancers might have a little debt hanging over their head, just because not everyone wanted to be leered at all the time and that they needed to pay off some of it, but that level of debt? That was insane.

"How -"

"Let's just say that the boss knows where to look for desperate women," Ember said, nodding her head to the side. The boss's office was just behind the stage, and James narrowed his eyes. "Tarren doesn't like to let his girls go once he sinks his claws into them. It's something that just pisses him off."

"He likes slaves, then."

"Yep."

"..."

"Forget I said anything, James. I've got to get on shift. Crystal -"

"Is it the same with her?"

"James -"

"Is it the same with her?"

"...Worse," the Charizard admitted, shaking her head as she got to her feet. "She got fucked over by a settlement after she was abandoned by her trainer, got into debt, and she's probably about seventy-thousand down. Tarren bought it all up, and keeps her here as a free worker...and sometimes more."

"More?"

"Don't make me say it."

"..."

"I gotta get to work. Sorry for ruining your night, man."

She patted his shoulder, and then made her way backstage. James leaned back, hardly believing what he had learned in such a short time.

He'd thought that the [i]Swaying Tails[/i] was on the verge of becoming a second home for him, but in one short conversation, it had become the depths of hell. The whole place felt like something that needed to be burned down and removed from existence, and the girls saved from what they'd been stuck with. Nobody deserved to be pulled down like that.

[i]If they were humans, this wouldn't stand...[/i]

But because they weren't, the cops probably looked the other way. They didn't have the same rights as humans, and they didn't have the same rights as the Pokemon that were kept in pokeballs. They were enslaved, and nobody really seemed to care.

The music started playing again, and Crystal started dancing. The blue-white fox made her way down from the other side of the stage, her clothes subtly different. She'd put on the sheer stockings that she knew that he liked, replaced her half-there bra with simple toplessness, only covering her nipples with a pair of playful clamps that ran together in an icy chain between them. She swayed her chest from side to side, swinging her breasts for those that wanted to see them. She turned in place, dragging her thong up between her ass cheeks to make it look like she was wearing nothing to cover it, and then walked to her pole.

He could see in the way that she moved that she was a good dancer, and that she was [i]good[/i] at showing off. At the same time, James couldn't help but wonder at the various hesitations in her dance if that was from something that her boss had done.

Was that short step a hidden stumble from a leg bruise?

Was that less-than-full extension from someone hurting her between her legs?

Was that gasp from pleasure or from hidden pain?

He had no answers, only questions. The longer that he watched, the more anger he felt on her behalf, and the more that he curled his hands into fists. The only reason he could keep a smile on his face was because he knew her, and he knew that she'd be worried if he was frowning at her performance.

So, he put on a smile. As good a smile as he could, and that was still pretty good, considering what he was looking at. Crystal smiled back, slowly rolling her hips as she rose up the pole, turning around and pressing her front to it. The metal pole slid between her bare breasts, and she arched her back, almost like she was putting herself out there on offer just for him.

Perhaps she was. She seemed to be looking his way more than usual of late.

He reached for his pocket, pulling out a few more bills. Rather than throwing them, he flicked through them a bit more, seeing what he had left for the night. A couple of hundreds, a couple of fifties. Not enough to drop on the stage and make things better right then and there, unfortunately, which was what he wanted to do. And more to the point, he didn't know what he could say if he did have that money on him. She would probably think he was trying to buy her from Tarren, and that wasn't what he was trying to do, at all.

He wasn't even sure why he was doing this. After all this, he didn't want to just turn into this do-gooder, but at the same time, he knew what it felt like when someone else abused your trust and put you down on a daily basis. Jessie still called him, still reminded him of what she was getting that he wasn't allowed anymore. He'd finally blocked her number today, so he hoped that was over and done with, but he honestly didn't know.

Tarren doing this to her...

It made him angry. Furious. After suffering through his own horrors, he wasn't letting someone else go through it.

He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the stage, and then got to his feet. He had someone else to talk to.

#

The office backstage was easy to find, though he spotted Jewel leaving the office in the process of pulling her panties back up. The Espeon spotted him, her eyes widening, and he looked back with the same sort of expression. She sighed, shaking her head.

"It's not as bad as you think," she said.

"He's doing it to you, too?"

"All of us, really. The only one that he doesn't do it to is Ember, and that's just cause he's scared of her," she said with a shrug. "What do you need, dear - oh, gods, you're hot."

"What?"

"You're hot. Angry." She covered the jewel in her forehead, shaking her head. "I barely have to look at you and I can feel it."

"It's not you."

"It's him?"

James nodded.

"I can't just let you walk in there and punch him, much as I'd like that."

"I'm not here to punch. I'm here to talk."

"Like that?"

"...Maybe not just like that."

"Look. Just...please, take five minutes. Take five minutes to breathe before going in there, because you could make things a lot worse if you're not careful."

"I don't see how."

"Just...trust me."

Jewel rushed off, obviously late for her next act, and he was forced to stop and think about it for a moment, much as he would have loved to storm through the doors and just take it up with the manager. The whole thing about Tarren fucking his employees was bad enough, but as Jewel ran off, he could see that it was clearly done without a condom, and that meant that it wasn't exactly safe for the ladies, either. If anyone ever got a bit diseased, then it was going to spread through them all at once, with no mercy for those that might or might not deserve it.

And likely without affecting Tarren in the slightest, considering that Pokemon diseases often didn't bother humans. He clenched his fists at his sides. What the hell was he going to do about this?

[i]Think about it. He has debt power over them. That means that he can force them to do all kinds of things to 'lower their debt', and that means that he's probably offering horrible terms on that. He's not paying them, just collecting profit. He wants money, and he wants sex...[/i]

James couldn't offer him the latter, but he still had a fairly substantial nest egg from the night at the casino. It was entirely possible that he could buy up at least some of the debt. He had about two-hundred thousand left that wasn't tied up in the car, in the house, and in a few other ventures. He could buy up Crystal's debt and a few others for that much, at the very least.

[i]Money. Money makes the world go round...[/i]

He shook his head, walking up to the office door. Rapping his fingers against it, he waited just long enough to hear the grunt that told him to come in, and stepped inside.

Tarren was a greasy young man, the sort of guy that had made it good on the street selling who knew what and had parlayed it into the sin-business. Pimple-faced and looking like he was barely into his mid-twenties, Tarren was the epitome of everything that a bad teenager was bundled into a young adult. He was slimy, he had greasy, slicked-back hair, and he was pantsless.

James covered his face, looking away from the dangling thing as Tarren snorted.

"Heh, what's the matter, pussy? You didn't expect me to be enjoying myself?"

"Put that the fuck away."

"Or what?"

"Or me and my wallet are walking out of here before you hear my proposition."

"Heh, well, money speaks."

As Tarren pulled his pants back on, James shook his head. He had hoped for this, but it still felt slimy to be in the back rooms, talking about the fate of a bunch of females that should have had a much louder voice in their own lives. He sat down at the far side of Tarren's desk as the other man pulled himself up to it.

"So, whatcha wanting? Private dance? Fuck-session?"

"...I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that you were prostituting them."

"Just saying, it's a good lay. I can speak from experience."

"I want to buy their debt."

That shut him up, and fast. Tarren whipped his head up, his mouth falling open.

"Which one squealed?"

"Doesn't matter. I want to buy their debt. As much as possible."

"Ain't happening. I'm not selling. Company's too good."

"Even if I bought, say, Crystal's debt right now?"

"Specially not her." Tarren spat in the corner. "You think I'm giving up that bitch? She's the hottest attraction in the whole club. The [i]Swaying Tails[/i] wouldn't have half the customers it does if it wasn't for that curvy slut. And she gives the best fucking head; I'm not letting her out of my sight."

"Not even for double her debt payment?" It would cost him a lot, and he couldn't save as many of the others, but he was willing. "I can drop $140k right now."

"...Tempting, but not happening. You want her, you can pay to fuck her, but I'm not selling her. Not even for triple her rate."

They were at an impasse. Worse, Tarren was winning, and the smirk on his stupid, pimply face was just begging to be punched in. James clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he tried to think of something, anything that might work here. He could go to the cops, but Tarren was probably prepared for that. He could maybe find a lawyer, but working this out in court would take forever, and the girls would be tormented in the meantime.

[i]What the fuck...[/i]

As he gritted his teeth, he rooted around in his pockets, as if he had some cool million lying around in there. He didn't, but he had something else.

His fingers found the chip from the casino, and he slowly pulled it out. Tarren's eyes went wide as he saw it, his mouth falling open.

"How did you -"

"You know what this is?" James asked.

"Fuck yeah, I do."

"Then let's talk business..."

#

Ten minutes later, it was done. The club was sold. The girls were free. And as they celebrated, cheering and gathering their things, Crystal walked down the catwalk one last time, sitting beside James as he watched everyone leave. She hesitated, then poked him.

"I heard...you bought us."

"I bought your debt," he muttered, looking away. "I didn't think you deserved to be locked up for something that wasn't your fault."

"I'm stupid with money. I did it to myself."

"Well, now you have a second chance."

"...What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. What you want, I guess," he muttered, shaking his head. "I bet you that most people would be willing to take you in."

"I don't have a lot of skills. I have no money. And now, I don't have a job."

"...Can you cook?"

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

Summary: James is a man pissed with the world, but with a surprisingly good heart buried inside. He just needs a chance to find it again.

Tags: F/solo, Strip Club, Pokemorph, Pokemon, Topless, Nudity, Implied Sex, Anger, Human, Ninetails, Anthro Pokemon, Anthro Ninetails, Series,