Main Pairing: F Halfling x MtF Deviling (half-demon humanoid race, like a tiefling)
Main Kinks/TWs: Sex work, mild bondage via magic tendrils, brothel scene, mild size difference, genital piercings, big girldick, vaginal, oral, cumshot, creampie
...
"Two-hundred and twenty four... Two-hundred and twenty-five... There! Split evenly, four ways," Mouse said, pushing up her glasses before sliding the piles of shiny silver coins over to the other three party members sitting at the table. The curly-haired halfling rogue slid her share into a coin purse on her belt.
Four female adventurers sat at the Bottomless Barrel tavern, divvying up their earnings and enjoying celebratory drinks amidst the sounds of drunken laughter and clinking tankards. There was no better place to go to after receiving a healthy quest bounty -- spirits were high, and it was time for celebration, relaxing, and discussing their plans going forward.
It hadn't been an easy job. They were tasked with tracking down a necromancer hiding out in an abandoned prison and wreaking havoc with skeletal hordes. The town hall offered a hefty bounty, especially if he could be brought in alive with his cursed staff intact, which they'd even managed to pull off.
"Hell of a fine bounty, I'd say!" Grilda laughed, slamming her tankard onto the table. She was a towering half-orc barbarian and the steadfast muscle of their adventuring party. "What all are we spendin' it on? I was eyein' that shiny dwarven halberd over at the arms shop..."
Khisk flicked out her tongue disapprovingly, eyes narrow as she counted her pile of coins. "Of course it's a new axe -- what else could you possibly think of? You only have a dozen of those things lying around the caravan. Nearly sliced my tail on one of them the other day," she hissed.
As a lizardfolk, Khisk's tall stature and cerulean scales always turned some heads whenever they were in public. There was the added quirk of her being the party's mage -- a rarity for her people, who rarely dabbled in the arcane arts.
"Ey, it's my coin. I'll spend it how I like, lizard." Grilda shrugged. "And a halberd ain't just a' axe! It's more like a spear with an axehead on it. Ye' can thrust with the end of it, slash with the blade, pierce armor with the backspike..."
"Yes yes, we understand -- you'll never have enough ways to skewer and bludgeon. As for myself, I will see if there are any tomes worth exploring at the mage's emporium," Khisk said. "And what of you, Rinny?"
Rinny, the group's monk and only human member, perked up. "Hmmm... I don't think I'm gonna make any big purchases until we're over in Orallin -- what about you, Mouse? New daggers or something?" She asked, turning to the halfling with a bright smile.
Mouse shrugged. "Not too sure yet, honestly. Maybe I'll take a stroll around town tonight -- see if there's anything interesting."
"I hear the brothels in this town are something special, especially the one called... What is it, Devil's Tail?" Grilda smirked, waggling her eyebrows.
"Brothels? How strange, paying for copulation," Khisk said.
"What's strange about it? People want ta' fuck, so they pay ta' fuck. Not much ta' understand, I think."
Meanwhile, Mouse's cheeks burned red... Not just at the mere implication, but how the thought had definitely crossed her mind more than once or twice during their stay. The halfling hoped Grilda was just being crass and not somehow scouting out how much of a dry spell she'd been in lately. "Girls, come on -- I didn't mean it like that!"
"It's nothin' to be ashamed of, ya' know. We all got our needs. Mine happens to be cute elf boys -- remember that cleric we met in Thylva? Pretty sure he was seein' his goddess by the time I was done ridin' him, kahaha!" Grilda cackled.
Khisk flicked her tongue. "Why are you telling us this? Nobody asked about your carnal affairs, orc."
"Cuz' it's fun -- something ya' might have if ya' pull that wizard staff from your ass every once in a while."
Lizardfolk and half-orc went at it back and forth, with Rinny trying to calm them down before they drew any attention to themselves.
Mouse, meanwhile, took this as the perfect opportunity to slip away from the group. Making a quiet exit wasn't anything new to them. It was part of how she earned her nickname among the group, with how she'd vanish without a peep, just to return as if she'd never left. They knew she would turn up sooner or later.
Slipping her hood on, Mouse stepped into the night with a single destination on her mind.
...
The Devil's Tail.
It looked somewhat like a chapel from the outside, guarded by two stone gargoyles carrying scarlet crystal lamps in their jaws. Illusionary images flashed across the front windows of women in provocative poses, beckoning those passing by to come inside and sate their desires. Painted above the front entrance was the establishment's name, stylized with a tail that ended in a spade shape, and the I dotted with a gooey white heart.
Well, her curiosity was piqued.
Mouse chewed her lip and fondled the hefty coin sack on her belt. It was her money -- she worked hard for it, and like Grilda said, there was no shame in indulging every once in a while. So after collecting herself for a brief moment, the halfling stepped into The Devil's Tail and took off her hood.
It felt more like walking into a high-end hotel or club than a brothel, but with the interior design sensibilities of a gothic castle. Statues of winged, batlike demons followed her with their gemstone eyes. The lighting inside was dim, provided by chandeliers and candles that glowed with dancing crimson flames.
A spicy-sweet fragrance hung in the air that smelled of cherries and cinnamon, mixed with traces of pipe-smoke and sweat. The centerpiece of the lobby was a grand fountain, portraying Sybari -- one of the old deities, a goddess of pleasure and indulgence, red wine pouring from a jug in her hand, down her exposed breasts and body, down into the pool below.
And what would any brothel be without smiling, giggling brothel girls to tease and entice? Workers and potential clients alike seemed to congregate in one central lounge area where they sat, smoked, and drank. The women around here wore tight, one-piece leather outfits or corsets, along with headbands that had little bat ears poking out.
"My my, is that a new face I see? We don't get many halflings..."
The voice came from behind Mouse. It was smooth and low, each syllable flowing like viscous honey with just the slightest hint of rasp. She turned around.
A woman with skin of scarlet red stood before her, clad in a black leotard that accentuated her tall, slender, but noticeably toned frame. Two dark horns jutted from her skull, with ears that were long and pointed like those of an elf's. Citrine-yellow eyes watched her with the diamond pupils of a viper. Her jet-black hair was parted over to the side, flowing just below her shoulders. The stranger addressed her with a lopsided grin, showing off pearly-white fangs between plump lips painted black.
The woman had to be a deviling -- a half-demon, created from the union of a human and a denizen of the infernal planes. They weren't a common sight, especially not around these lands. Many societies were still distrustful or prejudiced towards their kind. Mouse had never met a deviling in person... And never expected one to be so beautiful.
Mouse squeaked, her throat suddenly feeling like a desert. "Ehm... Hi," she said.
The stranger laughed, taking a draw from her pipe and blowing out a plume of smoke. "Hello to yourself. Tell me, darling, what brings you to our house of hedonism?" She asked, handing the pipe to Mouse.
A little something to take the edge off -- the halfling sure as hell needed it. Bringing the pipe to her lips, she breathed in long and slow, letting the familiar, comforting buzz wash across her body and mind. Then, she exhaled out her nose and sighed, passing it back to her. "Well... This place is a brothel, isn't it? 'Suppose I'm looking for some fun -- same as anyone tonight."
"I see! If pleasure is what you seek, then you've come to the right place. You have a name, darling?" She stepped into the lounge, guiding her with the alluring back-and-forth swing of her lips and rump. Poking from the back of her leotard was a thin tail that ended in a sharp spade.
"Folks just call me Mouse."
The stranger giggled. "How... Fitting. Mice are small, quiet, and in my opinion... Very cute. My name is Vanora," she said, sitting on a leather couch and relaxing with one slender leg over the other. "What manner of pleasure have you come seeking, Mouse?"
"H-heh, that's a good question, isn't it?" Mouse chuckled. Her amber eyes drifted over to the deviling woman sitting by her, from her smooth legs, up to the swell of her breasts barely contained in that leotard. As her gaze shifted back down, she noticed something -- a stiff outline straining against the crotch of her outfit.
Was that...?
