Welcome to the Family Ch. 02

"I decided to take your advice."

What advice? I wanted to say, but didn't. I'm shit at giving advice.

"Over the weekend, I went out and hit the bars for the first time in over a decade, and man, let me tell you, I fell head over heels for this one girl."

Why am I picturing a short, blocky woman that's built like a semi-truck and is as lively as a dead cat? Jesus Christ, I thought to myself while suppressing a giggle; I forgot how fucked up my sense of humor could be when I was in a good mood. Then, I blinked a few times as Melvin continued, wondering why part of me genuinely felt happy for him. His news actually sounded like good news, but at the same time, I knew that I didn't give two fucks about my boss and what his weekend entailed... Was I going insane?

"She's amazing, Blake." Melvin said, following the statement up with a dreamy sigh. "She's beautiful, kind, feisty, passionate, beautiful,-"

"You already said that one, babe." Said the smooth, loving voice of a young woman as she stepped out from behind Melvin, having been unnoticed by either of us up until that moment. "But, as always, thank you."

I took a slightly-too-dramatic step backwards, completely unexpecting such a radiant beauty to make herself present.

"Of course, baby." Melvin said, lifting his arm up to put it around her narrow shoulders. "Blake, I'd like to introduce you to Mary."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Blake. Mel here has told me oh-so much about you." Mary said, extending her hand out towards me with a limp wrist.

I didn't understand at the time that she expected me to take her hand and kiss it, as if the situation wasn't fucking weird enough.

Mary, a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties and could easily pose as a model for any agency of her choosing, frowned when I didn't respond accordingly.

But, how could I? Here I was, staring in disbelief at a woman who was nearly six-feet tall, had long, platinum blonde hair tied back into a professional ponytail, a bustline that likely needed special-order bras to accommodate her heaving, cleavage-spilling breasts, a slender waistline that flared out into a healthy set of hips, a long pair of bubbly legs that mostly exposed because of her less-than-professional, dark-purple dress, and visibly smooth, lightly-tanned skin that lacked even the slightest of blemishes. How could anyone not see her for the first time and become instantly stunned.

The fact that she was with Melvin, of all people, was the part that really had me in a perpetual state of disbelief.

I was speechless, paralyzed, and couldn't seem to look away from her big, beautiful, violet-colored eyes.

After a few seconds, her smile returned, and the iris of her eyes seemingly began to glow, melt, and swirl around.

"You were right, Mel. He's adorable." Mary giggled, keeping her gaze locked onto my own as I felt my muscles relax and my body's posture straighten up on its own.

"I told ya' so." Melvin agreed, his voice now devoid of the friendly tone that it once had mere seconds ago, the words coming out of his mouth and his creepy expression carrying a strange hunger along with them. "Blake is perfect for what I have in mind."

"I couldn't agree more."

"C'mon, let's all go to Blake's office and get to know each other better."

"Lead the way, Blake, and don't come out of your current state until I explicitly allow it."

"Yes, ma'am." I found myself saying. I then turned around without another word and continued on the path to my little corner of the building, confused, but aware that I should be panicking.

It was just one thing after another today, it seemed.

-----

Again, a place like this was not one that I would've expected to find myself waking up in.

Low lights, naked men and women everywhere, tons of red and black decorations, the smells of sex and passion and shame, the cries of those being either pleasured, tortured, or an odd mix of both.

Was this hell?

"Ooh, baby... Yeah, right there! Ah!" Some long-haired redhead moaned from a chair, similar to the one I found myself in, from across the room. She wasn't all that pretty in the face, but her lithe, supple body was attractive enough, I realized.

The tall, muscular man on his knees and between her legs was a different story, though. He was built like a brick house, covered in definition lines and lacking even an ounce of fat. I could only imagine what that monster could do with his tongue, but judging by the way the middle-aged woman was squirming and squealing, it wasn't hard to guess his skill level. The tight, leather mask that was wrapped around the entirety of his head, leaving only his mouth exposed, was attached to a bright, red collar around his throat. It took me a moment to figure out what that small, golden object dangling around on the back of his neck was exactly, but it wasn't long before I realized that it was some kind of locket, keeping the fetish gear forcefully bound to him.

Not far off from them, two women and a limber, skinny gentleman were each on their knees and handcuffed at their hands and feet to three, black-steel poles. The two women were leaning towards one another and making out without a care in the world, all the while one lucky, overweight, black man was sliding his girthy and extra-long cock between where their red-painted lips were magnetically attempting to connect, leather-strapped gagballs loosely hanging around their slender, pale necks. The fit young man next to them, who Mandy assumed had just barely turned twenty-years of age based on his attractive looks and hairy torso, just helplessly looked on at his female counterparts and moaned from his place on the maroon carpet below. While choking on the thick, red gagball in his mouth, his small, adorable cock and oversized balls twitched, throbbed, and was occasionally letting out a few clear spouts of hands-free ejaculate.

His big, blue eyes were devoid of any sense of self, just like the busty women lined up beside him, and none of them appeared to be struggling against their restraints in any way, as if they were ultimately content with both their placement and treatment.

Those were just two of the many couplings and mini-orgies going on around the room, but the main attraction was located in its center, where a mighty, sexy woman stood, the only one wearing any sort of clothing that couldn't be classified at fetish gear. She was poised there with pride and confidence, legs spread apart and hands firmly placed on her hips as she towered over and looked down a linear row of five individuals, each of them helplessly meeting her scanning gaze. Their mouths were slightly open; their eyes were empty with their pupils heavily dilated; the entirety of their respective figures trembled and shivered as their also respective (and respectively-sized) genitals were all visibly either leaking or ejaculating constant flows of juices.

The long, flowing, and glittery orange dress hugging her overly-tall, bombshell of a body didn't leave anything to the imagination, and even while I was facing the woman and her subjects from behind, I could tell that her breasts were just as large as her equally impressive donk just because of how much of their covered mass was exposed from the sides of her slender, athletic torso.

If I hadn't immediately recognized the bitch from her short, wild, but intensely beautiful, strawberry-blond hair, I might have started to believe that I had awoken in heaven itself.

It's too bad that my first guess was actually the correct one.

"I'm in hell." I groaned, spitefully and silently lusting after Blake's English landlord, my long, thick tail flicking around behind me in frustration. After a moment or two of hateful glaring that went unnoticed, I realized that the only reason my tail was openly, visibly flicking around in the first place was because of her.

"Now, we both know that that's not true, my feisty little runnaway." Miss Roth called out as she turned her head to the side. As soon as half of her smile and one of her haunting, blind eyes became visible and locked onto my own, a temor of fear rocked my spine and caused me to flinch. Anyone else, any normal human, to be more precise, would assume that this woman would be unable to see because of her eyes' unnatural, grey, pupil-less appearance, but those like myself, experienced and more than knowledgeable about one of my natural enemies, understood that was not the case. "You are without your cloak because of your own careless decisions."

Utterly ignoring what she said, I grit my teeth and clenched my fists in fury, my emotions intensified by the fact that she was likely the one who had found and stripped me when I was unconscious, doing whatever she wanted with my amazing body.

"Enough with the idle fantasies, Princess Isabelle." She said, slowly turning around to face me completely. The five men and women she turned away from stood their ground, not appearing to realize that their mistress was no longer interested in them. Not that they would, or could care, given the type of spell that Miss Roth had likely put them under. "I was the one that found and stripped you, but I've done nothing else, aside save you from turning into a cat-sicle."

I didn't bother to say anything or dignify her words with any sort of verbal response. There wasn't any point. You're listening to my thoughts as soon as I think them, aren't you, Miss Roth?

"You are correct on all accounts, my dear runaway." She chuckled in her sultry, soothing voice as she began across the room towards me. Nobody around us seemed to be paying any mind to Miss Roth, nor the fact that she appeared to be talking to herself in a heightened volume. "And you need not worry, I have no intention of turning you into one of my thralls. Not anytime soon, anyway."

"How generous." I grumbled sarcastically, feeling my fur slowly rise and fluff out to rise and stand on end, the noticeable, visible spread of my fearful anxiety apparent to anyone that way paying attention. Speaking of paying attention...

With a gentle, catious sniff of my powerful, button-nose, I recognized several sents and aromas drifting around in the air along with those of sex and heat. Now that I was aware of her presence, Miss Roth's musky, canine odors were easily detectable, but there were others in there with us, too. Glancing around at the multitude and variety of patrons around the large room, I instantly learned that the two of us weren't the only demi-humans in the room.

"Very astute, Princess." Miss Roth said, stopping just a meter away from where I was sitting. Standing at approximately six-foot-six, the tall woman was towering over my trembling frame, and I couldn't help but pull my knees up to my chest and hug them in defense.

"Stop calling me that." I growled. "I gave up my right to the throne the day I left the castle against my mother's wishes."

"I would, but, even now, you still insist on acting like a helpless little pawn, only able to act when you have the strength of others behind you." Miss Roth shrugged and crossed her arms over her bountiful, squishy bust, her smile still unwavering, as it always seemed to be, I noticed. "For example, you're cowering like a cornered creature, ready to stupidly swat at me if I were to reach in and comfort you."

"C-comfort me? How absurd!" I blurted out, my limbs trembling as they slowly moved to bring me onto my unsteady feet. "When we first met, you sucker-punched me! Wait, no, you-!"

With a quick, upward rasp of her thin, white, walking stick, which I had completely failed to notice was in her grasp somehow, I felt a sharp, painful sting strike right between the plump lips of my pussy, flowing all along the short length of its inner folds and being intensified on my now-throbbing clit.

Just as I had managed to stand, I dropped to my knees with a chirp and a whimper, hands covering my twitching private area.

"You f-foul, rotten bitch!"

"Ahh, such fond memories. It feels like it was just yesterday when I- oh, it was yesterday, wasn't it?" Miss Roth giggled, wearing an expression on her face of pure amusement. "Silly me. Time slips away when you're managing the largest underground brothel for demi-humans in Imperial City. Speaking of the time we shared yesterday, how has my darling Blake been doing since he found out about your little secret? He kicked you out of his home, didn't he?"

I froze at the mention of his name, then looked down to the dark carpet in shame, regret, and sorrow. Every single moment Blake and I ever spent with each other in our short time together began to flash through my mind, pulling open fresh wounds that the freezing cold outside and the intense atmosphere of the room had pushed to the back of my immediate thoughts. It all came rushing back, and I started off with a few strained, silent sobs, but it wasn't long before that had devolved into full blown crying.

I don't know how long I sat there, having completely forgotten about everything else around me.

Miss Roth felt the need to lower herself down onto her knees and break me out of my self-inflicted suffering by grabbing a fistfull of my long, silvery hair, pulling my head back so that my teary-eyed gaze could look directly into her own empty, grey orbs.

Miss Roth was no longer smiling.

In fact, she was frowning, and bearing her wolf-like fangs at me, now fully aware of exactly what I did to Blake earlier this morning.

"What in God's name have you done?"

-----

I had to admit, this was turning out to be much less entertaining than I had expected.

"Mmm... That's the spot." I moaned, feigning enjoyment from Melvin's awkward and borderline uncomfortable motions. "Oh, Mel'!"

He was down on his knees in front of me as my backside was perched up against a small, metal desk, one arm wrapped around the shoulder my thigh was resting on while his tongue and the fingers from his free hand aimlessly worked and fumbled away at pussy. It wasn't all bad, but as soon as the old, inexperienced man found a pattern in his uncoordinated motions that would cause a constant build-up of pleasure, he'd switch it up, and I'd do my best not to let out an audible and frustrated sigh. I pitied the poor soul, on some level.

"Mmnah, yeah... You like that, don't you?" Melvin groaned, looking up into my eyes before pressing his mouth entirely into the whole of my snatch so that he could reach his slimy tongue as far into me as possible.

Again, it wasn't completely terrible, but it was a far cry from the sorts of skillful acts I've had performed on me in that region from much more impressive men than himself.

"No one's done it better." I said, forcing a smile and returning his gaze as best I could. I moaned again and pretended to shiver for a few moments in delight, letting out a squeak or two to really bring it home.

Melvin seemed satisfied with that, finally, and slowly pulled away from my crotch once he suspected my fake orgasm had subsided. He sure looked impressed with himself when thin trails of his drool and my juices were made when backing up, but it wasn't worth mentioning then that my pussy just naturally flowed like a waterfall when the right thoughts came to mind. The next thing that happened, though, almost destroyed any sort of rapport I'd built up with my current client thus far.

Blake, his name was, had proved himself to be much more entertaining than Melvin, and all he's done is open his pretty little mouth since we were introduced.

"How does it feel, Blake?" Melvin said as he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the fluids from his lips. "Are you jealous, now that I've got a hot babe ready and willing to do anything for me, while you don't have anything?"

His darkened, shark-like eyes were filled with a deep, spiteful hatred for the young man he was speaking to, the one who Melvin had asked me to hypnotize and subdue Blake so that he could treat him like a helpless, pathetic cuckold.

It's almost a shame that Melvin hadn't asked me to rewrite his personality, because, well, Blake doesn't seem to be that sort of person.

Blake just returned Melvin's psychotic, bone-chilling smile with a simple and polite grin of his own, one leg kicked up over his knee with his hands patiently folded together in his lap.

"Honestly? This whole situation is just making me hungry. Is it break-time yet, boss?"

Don'tlaughdon'tlaughdon'tlaughdon'tlaughdon'tlau-

"Damn it!" Melvin swore through grit teeth, turning around to pick up a thick, metal stapler lying on the desk I was on. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I gasped as Melvin wound his arm back and threw it right towards Blake's face, still too distracted by his silly comment to at least try and make an attempt to stop him.

"Ah, fuck!" Blake cried out, clutching the side of his face where the backside of the office tool had firmly smacked him. "Me?! The fuck's wrong with you, you goddamn nutjob?!"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Melvin roared from the bottom of his lungs, then lifted up his leg to deliver his shoe into Blake's chest and stomach with as much force as he was able to put behind it. "Where do YOU get off, calling ME crazy?!"

My left eye twitched with frustration, a small quirk of mine that would show no matter what kind of mask of emotions I forced myself to wear.

Like, I suppose I understood Melvin's animosity towards Blake, on some level.

He'd approached me over the weekend at one of my favorite clubs, having been pointed in my direction by an acquaintance of mine, looking for an escort. Not just any escort, though. Someone who could pull off that whole "devoted girlfriend experience" thing, and over the course of a few days. Most girls in my profession wouldn't have any problem or trouble going through with it, but he was looking for someone willing to play the role over the course of an entire week.

The few he had come to about the suggestion were put off by the whole thing, whether or not the man could afford it. To them, and myself, Melvin almost made it sound as if he was going to live it up until his meager, mailman savings ran out and then kill himself once it was all over. After he explained his dreadfully long and boring life's story, I managed to find some shred of pity for the poor old man. What really had me interested, to be truthful, was what he kept saying the ultimate purpose of it all was. To try and get a one-up on one of his younger and much more handsome coworkers.

According to Melvin, Blake had been working under him for the past couple of years, and had always been a big, mopey ball of depression and negativity. Blake didn't hardly speak to anyone and kept to himself for the most part, and then, one day, just after taking a short leave of absence after his father had passed away on him, he was a new man. He began conversing with his fellow employees, started eating lunch in the breakroom with everyone else instead of doing so alone in his office, and especially, was talking about this wonderful woman he had met on the day of his dad's funeral.

At first, I assumed he was just a harmless, old salt that never really had anything going for him in life, pissed off at the world for his own shortcomings and lack of initiative. Sure, he managed to wind up as a postmaster for the largest and most technically advanced city on the planet, but that was just it, his profession was outdated and virtually pointless at this point in this world's level of development. I figured that anyone who just stuck with the job long enough would eventually wind up in his position, so when he originally started boasting about that, I just smiled and nodded with false agreement in an effort not to damage his easily dismissable ego.