The following is an experiment. I haven't written much fiction lately and my therapist encouraged I get back at it. There is no rhyme or reason to this. No Editor-kun, no second draft: going commando here! Expect lots of BE, FMG, GTS, Futa and other sexual growth, but there might be whole chapters where I complain how badly they adapted a favorite book series.
This is an ongoing story and entering a new story arc. Lewd happens, it has happened, it will happen again (seriously, I have only BEGUN to smut!). But so will plot, and character development, and world building. This series isn't going to be for everyone. If you are confused, start on Chapter 1 of Therapy.
PREVIOUSLY ON ALT: Ai learned how to control her powers in the middle of an orgy. Irene had tea with Jeston and discovered that Ai is impossibly in the same world as the isekai faun.
********************
In a city housing eighty million sentients (eighty million
on the surface,
yet another distinction giving Ai migraines), Yrlmuh flourished a lot of variety. For instance, if Ai had to guess where in the 'verse she lived based on clothing, she would say the cuts and styles resembled a fantastical mix of
1001 Arabian Nights:
lot of loose fabrics, colorful accessories, more skin showing than covered. The skin made sense with the heat outside an oven set to a hundred and ten degrees (44 C) and only a little cooler at night. Yet the styles weren't
really
Arabic or Middle Eastern, rather what Ai would expect in fictional clothing, everything taking aesthetic over practicality far more than reality dictated.
The whole city was like that. In some cases, the layout of a district made sense, with rows of cheap housing near a college, or high rises next to other high rises clustering around banking institutions. Then the next street made Whoville appear bland by comparison, everything thrown together without rhyme, reason or structure. Poor squalor abutting palaces, flea market on top of sewage reclamation plant on top of the Right And Honorable Society For Herbal Appreciation. The whole city was mad as a hatter.
Amidst the chaos, prostitution and sex wasn't only big business, it was a major industry. In Vegas - famous for their legal brothels - a large whorehouse would hold a dozen girls. Even in Victorian London, the best factual reports only placed twenty girls in one building.
"I don't know how else to describe it. In Evma, some races need sex like they need air to breathe." Vina sipped tea from a cup as large as a dinner bowl, unidentified spiced savory wafting across the room. The two women sat in the surprisingly modern office - all metal and glass with low reclining leather seats - Vina privately kept on the top level of the brothel. A moderate view of red mid day sky and much of the tall rectangular wooden buildings in the local pleasure district created a kind of Wolf Of Smutstreet effect. "You say sex is only for procreation and pleasure on your world? Here, the easiest way to bond thaum is with tantric energy. I've heard witches describe magic as two part cock, one part pussy with a bit of hand waving to bring it all together. Any number of races need thaumian energy to survive. A brothel is no different than a restaurant or health clinic."
Ai nodded as if understanding. Not that it was difficult to understand, supply and demand made sex a high demand resource, meaning an equal rise of supply to meet that demand. Vina's
Come Right Inn
was a mid-level business in one of a dozen redlight districts in the city, literally thousands of houses large and small like this brothel all over just one city. Mid-level, with one hundred and thirty-seven girls and another forty-four support staff. Ai's trouble was orienting her mind to accept sex as no different than ordering a taco...by ordering a taco.
"So to you, I'm basically a what? An asset? A line item in your account books?" Ai tried to keep her temper, but it seeped through, clear bitterness in her tone. She covered by gulping hot mint tea, burning her tongue.
The madame didn't reply immediately, brewing a new cup, adding the right amount of milk and lemon. When Vina spoke it was quiet, yet the words contained empathy the isekaied earther didn't expect from a twenty foot (6 m) yellow and green spotted elephant woman. "You don't believe very highly of yourself, do you, Ai?"
...screams...beeping...building shaking...calloused warm hands...
"...to go...deployed...love...all changed..."
Ai blinked, scowling at the directness of it, ashamed of the truth.
Vina sighed in Ai's silence, leaning forward to put a massive hand with rough leathery skin on the purple Lacuna's knee. "Everyone has problems, and I'll be the first in line to say one of mine is I'm greedy." When an elephant smiled, it lifted her trunk in a way that squinted her whole face. "Rather, I like to take chances. No woman made anything of herself sitting around wishing for better. All I see is opportunity in this city, ways to take what I have and turn it into more. I started like you, with nothing. And when I first saw you, I'll admit I didn't see much. However, you surprised me."
"You aren't improving your case here," Ai said, though she at least kept a leash on her temper this time.
"Enough chit chat, I can appreciate that." Vina folded her arms under breasts sized like two mutant turkeys. "I despise exploitation. Pantheons know, easier ways to make money with a brothel in this town than the way I do business. I started in one of the rougher areas and I never forgot. I wouldn't accept success unless it was a win-win for everyone. I'm making the same offer to you, the same offer I present anyone. You might pull in enough tung every day to stay fed and happy doing whatever anywhere in the city. If you want, I'll make introductions, I know the right people to get you started. But then it will be just you. I did that, for decades I worked alone until I built enough to hire and delegate. Not saying I wouldn't be disappointed, but I'd understand: some women need to forge their own path.
"And some women find others to perform what they can't do or don't want to do. I know business, I know Yrlmuh. I have contacts in dozens of guilds and even
know
some senators. Your
food
situation will be handled, you'll get enough Johns to keep fed. You won't have to look for jobs, I'll handle the details. Not because I think you incapable, but because, well, I know what it means to be alone."
"...goodbye..."
Ai wiped a small tear away. This sounded too good to be true. Ai had worked enough corporations to comprehend the truth of Vina's explanation: no one made money in a vacuum. How long would it take to build a business out of the clothing on her back and gumption? There were no guarantees. Above all, though, Ai wasn't capable of doing anything alone right now. After all, she wasn't worth much.
"I need to see something in writing," Ai said, finishing her tea and scraping her tongue gently to ease the burn. "No promises yet, but this isn't something we can handshake on."
"Agreed. Until then, I have something I'd like you to look into."
Details hashed, the essentials finished and Ai left soon after. In the hall, the purpled Lacuna hefted her bra up into unfamiliar places - tucking a folded paper inside because lingerie didn't come with pockets - while picking panties out of crevices she never expected when living on earth. Pale yellow, the shelf and pushup combination bra thrust her tits up while offering minimal covering, peeking areola on display and nipples barely restrained. Yet Ai knew if she were sitting in a paint shaker, these chestaculars would remain sports bra secure. Her panties looped high over smackably curved hips and plunged down into long narrow Vs on both ends, scooping a postage stamp of fabric above her clit. The cut was seamless, pale yellow shimmering like a clamshell in the right light. Part of the enchanted collection custom made from the sexporium, the Lacuna was certain a blowtorch wouldn't mar the magically resilient fabric.
Ai was learning the Core Rulebook of the world bit by bit, and putting it all together was a juggling act. During the meeting that just ended, Vina was similarly attired, though with a triangular black bikini bra and low hipped panties. It was Mid Bell - another word for noon on Evma - which was also the beginning of the day for most prostitutes who worked late hours. Thirty hour days, but so long as her circadian rhythm kept pace Ai didn't care, just meant more daylight. When prostitutes walked outside in the city, they wore sequined bras and diaphanous skirts baladi style as an advertising uniform. The uniform was complex and told clients about what a girl was willing to do as well as what bordello they worked from. Ai had three uniforms for when she left the building. Inside, girls mostly walked about in lingerie, naked or light robes. Ai hoped to purchase other clothing, still not entirely comfortable walking around in her underwear all day, but she wasn't embarrassed about it much, either.
"Head out of clouds, Ai," the girl told herself, shaking the disorganized jumbled buzzing in her head and striding barefoot down plush red carpet towards the stairs. Unwinding a white ribbon from her wrist, she fixed her lengthy and lush hair into a proper ponytail. "Apparently I've been promoted to manager and it is time to wake the team."
The team did not like waking up. Lots of moaning when Ai lit the lamps with a sharp chant. Not the sexy kind.
"Where am I?! Who's there?" Rutter shouted, flapping his massive arms around as he pulled his face off Ari's prodigious boob pillows and shlorped his limp cock out of where he was keeping it nice and warm. This caused him to fall off the bed and crash to the floor, bells clipped into his black beard tingling softly.
"Get out of here, Rut, you're going to be late," Ari weakly shooed, one green goblin hand covering her eyes while she blindly searched for blankets.
"Anyone tea?" Rima croaked, hair leaves brown and wilting, though the pumpkin vampire girl sat up and scratched sticky parts of plant/vampire anatomy.
*bllllllggggh!*
Mizi hung over the top bunk and tried to gather energy to wipe her mouth clean. Chunky white glob steamed on the floor with the distinct odor of rancid and partially digested jizz, a unique and unfortunately familiar offal throughout the brothel.
"Bedpan!" Ai yelled in reminder, side stepping the cum vomit (cumit? vomizz?) and Rutter in equal measure. Mizi mumbled an apology as she tried to get marbled and gemstone embedded body into motion. Chanting the runes in their corner next to the wash basin, heating up a battered copper pot, Ai stuffed diffusers with the leaf of every girls' choice. Tea really was the drink of choice around in Evma, reminding Ai of the times she spent in Asia.
