Chapter One

You stare down at your phone. Both the cracks and the numbers stare back at you.

-$3.847.22

Your account? Dry. This was all you had. Less than nothing. This wasn't credit. Not a loan. That number was how deep you've gone beneath the surface--how deep of shit you were in. To make matters worse, you had over thirty missed calls and hundreds of texts--All of them from your landlord.

Each one was a little more passive-aggressive than the last, dressed up in fake kindness and legal 'warnings' like:

"You understand we can't extend again."

"Eviction will proceed by next week if...."

And your favorite:

"We regret to inform you..."

Your stomach rolled over and curled up. It's not just the rent on your back. It's groceries. Overdue notices from the clinics. The phone bill. You can feel it building behind your eyes. It's the kind of pressure that makes your chest ache, like someone you loved was never coming back--Your financial freedom. Your peace. Your ease of mind. Crushed by the weight of bankruptcy.

It's the kind of weight that makes you ask yourself... why? What now? Why bother continuing on?

The orders stopped coming in good. When you first started, you were confident. But now, getting a good client was like finding gold.

You thought selling your body and its holes would be easy. Just lay back and let the money pound you into the bed, or backseat, or front seat, or against a dirty wet brick wall.

... The window was close by. Maybe the fall wouldn't hurt too bad before you kick the bucket.

You toss your phone onto your sagging mattress and bury your face into your hands. You try to breathe but it keeps shaking. That pressure behind your eyes is getting harder to control, and you were having a hard time keeping the tears from bleeding down your cheeks.

Then, the phone buzzes.

You flinch. What now? It was probably the landlord with another threat or reminder. Maybe it was him asking for another 'favor' so you could keep your place. That thought alone reminded you that you needed to get mouthwash.

You grab your phone, expecting to see another reason to throw your phone across the room.

Instead, it's a message from a client. The name is unfamiliar, usually anonymous, but this one was vague.

It was just a simple letter 'K'.

And the message was simple:

"Are you available tonight? Looking for discreet, upscale and no limits." Then you saw the end of the message:

"$10,000 cash offered."

Your heart could click heels if it had feet. You sit up, fingers trembling shakily as you prepare to reply.

But you halt. Wait. What if this was a trap? Someone luring you to your doom? What if it was a gang of misfits looking to ruin a girl? They get ahold of you, take you somewhere far so no one could hear you scream and cry, then violate you. Killing you after would be a smart choice for them, but at that rate they'd be doing you mercy.

You hesitate. Then another message comes across the screen:

"Gonna need that rent, girl. Either cough up or cough on this dick. Then maybe I'll give you some more time." - Landlord.

...

Your fingers tap the keyboard, "I'll take the job. Where are we meeting?"

A minute or two passes then there's a buzz. An address. Upper city. Luxury district. You've never even been close to that level. Hell, you never made it past the middle district! How the hell would you even afford a cab there? The fare is worth half your rent.

Then there's another text:

"We will send you transportation. Where is your address?"

You blink. Holy fuck.

You answer honestly. They tell you that they sent the cab over.

They also tell you to wear something comfortable and easy to take off.

Figures.

So you evaluate. There's no name. No explanation. The instructions are clear but vague at the same time.

But...$10,000? That speaks for itself.

You glance at your bank app. It's still flashing that bright raging red color. Hesitation was out the window. It was either this or sweaty landlord dick.

You take a shower and paint yourself back into the image you're supposed to be selling. A little blush here, some eyeshadow there. Tight black dress that barely leaves your legs to the imagination.

This dress saved you many minutes a client. Easy to roll up. Easy to roll back down. Hugs the figure perfectly and easy to wash.

No bra or panties were needed. Whoever this mysterious person was didn't give 'first time' vibes. You couldn't play shy girl this time.

Wouldn't look good enough to earn that ten grand.

*****

The cab ride took longer than you thought. Your thighs stick to the leather seat that you were possible had sex all over it. On every block he turns on, your heart thumped faster and faster. The buildings kept passing by, and you kept anticipating the one you were instructed to meet at.

Before you know it, you're there.

By now, your heart is in your ass.

It's there. A tall building--A penthouse of some kind. The ones that live in the upper districts sure lived fancy. Just breathing the clean air felt expensive.

The doorman doesn't even look at you more than once as you pass, heels clicking on the spotless marble. The mirrored elevator took you upwards. You could see yourself--and through yourself.

You saw the question. Can you do this?

But the numbers kept rising. The answer didn't matter anymore. You were past the point of no return.

The doors open. The hallway is strangely quiet. You envisioned more rich folks sipping wine in the lobby, laughing at how heavy their pockets were. But it was rather peaceful. Carpeted. Soft lighting, like candlelight without the flicker. You walk until you find the door from the message.

Oh boy. You're here. You're really, really here.

Is it too late to turn around? Is your hair straight? Did you rinse your pussy enough? Did you stink under the arms?

Oh shut the fuck up and knock already!

But the door opened before you could. The woman standing there... is not what you expected. She's tall. At least a foot taller than you, if not more. Her fur was rich and sleek black with a silvery sheen to it, like burnished obsidian.

Her body looked strong. Feminine. But powerful. Her curves were sculpted by a god, clearly--wrapped in a silk robe that barely clung to her muscled frame.

Her sharp amber eyes... they were amused. Her lips turn up at the corners,

"Come in," she says, low and smooth like honey, "They're waiting."

Ohhh shit. Don't look weird. Don't show nervousness. Be. Sexy. Sexy!

You step inside. Your heart wouldn't shut the fuck up.

The apartment is massive. Fuck, it was practically a house!

Warm. Velvet couches. Flickering fireplace. There were windows that touched the floor and ceiling simultaneously, showing the city lights far below. But also in the room were two more women. One was on the couch, lounging. The other was perched at the in-house bar with a glass of dark wine.

The one on the couch is auburn and golden, lean and broad shouldered. Her long canine tail wagged lazily. The moment she lays on you, looking up from her expensive looking manicure, she licks her lips. Her eyes, as beautiful as they were, were burning with hunger.

The one at the bar was striped. Black and orange--A tigress in every inch of her sleek and commanding body. She sips her wine and tilts her head like she's studying you. Like she's deciding if she should buy you or devour you.

The door shut behind you with a soft click.

"Is this the girl?" The tigress said, voice velvet and drowned in smoke, "Hm. Come here, girl. Let us observe you."

You walk slowly into the center of the room, trying not to tremble.

The dark furred woman, an equine, walks in behind you, "She's prettier in person than in the photos."

Photos? You don't remember taking any photos. Sex work was a discreet practice. Photos publicly posted would land you a quick night in the slammer.

They circle you. Suddenly, you felt like a juicy steak sitting on a plate, surrounded by predators. You can feel their eyes burning holes on various parts of your body. Your thighs. Hips. Legs. Arms. Even your shoulders. They were admiring everything. You parted your lips like you wanted to say something, but only a breath comes out.

The canine grins wide, "Let's get to the point, shall we? I'm sure you're curious as to why we hired you."

She tosses a thick black envelope onto the glass coffee table. You glance at it. It's already opened. And inside of it laid the very reason you came here.

Clean. Green. Crispy stacks of bills. It's more than you ever seen in one paycheck. More than you've ever seen ever!

"Go on." said the canine, "Check it. I'm sure you've been fooled before down there."

The tigress raised a brow, "She's from the lower quarters? Strange. She smells clean."

You thumb through the money. The smell of lived-in cash. Perfume. A little bit of leather from the purse it probably sat in. It felt cleaner than any money you've ever gotten from a normal job.

Holy shit. They weren't kidding. This was ten grand in your hands. There was weight to the envelope. You never thought ten grand would feel like holding rocks but you didn't expect it to be light either.

"See?" The tigress mentions after a sip of her wine, "No catch. Only the job and the pay."

The canine nodded, "Ten grand. All yours tonight."

The equine spoke next, "But there is a condition." She steps closer to you. Her perfume is deep in your lungs. It's heady. Dark. Laced with something... raw.

"You do everything we say," she whispers, breath minted, "No hesitation. No questions. No fuss. We say. You do. You get paid."

You swallow hard. The heat between your legs is undeniable now. All three of them stepped back just slightly. Gave you space.

They watch. Wait. All three of them probably thinking the worst things to do to you. Or something else.

You swallow down what feels like a rock.

"Shall we begin? Or do you want to fuck old men for the rest of your life just to buy dinner?"

You took a breath. In. Out.

The decision was very clear in your mind by now. You didn't want to see that red flash of numbers anymore. Never. Again.

You nod your head.

The three women grin. And the equine nods, "Good girl."

You've been with women before. You could see their excitement. Their chests heaving slowly. Hunger in their eyes. Fingers itching to grab you.

You were sure they were horny. Hearts pounding. Tails wagging. Bulges throb-...

... Bulges... throbbing?

Bulges!?

Suddenly... the entire vibe changed. Your smile dropped faster than your heart to your ass.

They look at each other. Nod. They already gauged who was going first.

The tigress is first to move. She steps forward, fluid and regal. Her claws looked like they could do some damage if she wanted to, pinching her robe to undo it. The fine silk spilled from her shoulders, revealing a body clearly carved to arouse anyone that bore witness to her orange and black beauty.

The stripes twist over her torso, hips, and down her powerful thighs--able to crush a melon with ease. But your eyes fall downward. The shadows there part, revealing a cock that's already half-mast and rising. It was thick. Veined. Barbs were lined along the underside like tastebuds on a tongue. It was magnificent. Beautiful.

"I want to see you on your knees." She purred, "Right now."

... and fucking terrifying.

(To be continued in Chapter Two...)