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The Mob's Price

Part 2

for faceless_Lord

by Draconicon

Greg ended up being outfitted with a great deal more gear than he expected for his new...occupation. Was that even the right word for it? It was more than just something that he was working for, and more to the point, it wasn't even a job that he wanted, but was he doing anything that wasn't agreed-upon on some level? Probably not; Mr. Smalls was very good at protecting himself and his businesses, otherwise he would have been brought in by law enforcement years ago.

Still, Greg wasn't sure that he could deal with...all this.

He stood in front of a mirror, staring at all the stuff that he wore, and all the stuff that he didn't. He wore a collar around his neck, now, something made of metal and plated with gold leaf, with little d-rings pointing forward, left, right, and back. Chains and leashes could easily be attached to it, though for now the side rings led down to silk sashes that lay over his shoulders and down his sides. The husky wanted to pull them over his chest, covering his new boobs, but that was something that Mr. Smalls had expressly prohibited. He was to expose himself completely at all times, no matter who might be watching, or what it might mean.

He shivered as he cupped his breasts. They were bigger than the usual pairs that he saw through the city. Quite a bit bigger, for that matter, and something that made him feel all the more humiliated, knowing that his manhood had been stripped away so thoroughly and replaced with the boobs of a trophy wife. He groaned under his breath as he fondled them, squeezing the fat things before lifting them up and dropping them once more. The sheer heft and weight that they had made him all the more conscious of what had been done to him, and how little his manhood really mattered anymore.

Looking down at his dick, he saw both the way that it poked out past a pair of bigger hips and rounder ass cheeks than he'd had before, but he also saw the various accessories that he had been forced to wear. A big gold ring wrapped around the base of his cock and balls, with a second one at the base of his shaft alone. They were connected by a link of gold chain, and at the very tip of his cock, his urethra was blocked off with a sounding rod, one that was linked to the ring at the base of his cock.

It was a giant chastity trap for his shaft, one that made him stay hard almost all the time, sensitive and dripping. The rod even had a vibrating core, something that Mr. Smalls and his men could turn on or off at any point without telling him. He groaned, knowing that it was going to happen regularly from now on, and some part of him dreaded when it was going to hit him next.

The other part, a tiny, itty bitty part of him, almost looked forward to it. The sounding rod was almost mind-blowing in terms of the pleasure that it hit his cock with, though the humiliation kept him from actually wanting it. Yet...his body was being trained, bit by bit, to crave what it could only get in this horrible state of slavery.

Nnnngh...keep it together...

The husky shook his head, looking down his body. He had a pair of anklets on, heavy ones, reminding him of the fact that he was essentially a slave, property of the Smalls crime family, and that he wasn't going to be leaving them anytime soon. They owned him, and they could do what they liked with him, regardless of the law. He shuffled his feet, feeling the toe rings on his digits clicking softly.

"Mmmph..."

Ring ring. Ring ring.

The little landline that was the only connection to the outside world in his room started ringing. He reached for it, pulling the handset to his ear. The last time that he let it ring, Mr. Smalls had come down and made it very, very clear that he was never to let a phone keep ringing.

"Yes?"

"Time for the next part of your conditioning."

"Mmmph...what do you want me to do?" he asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"You're going to head down to the brothel, kid."

That was what he was afraid of. He knew that it was coming, knew that Mr. Smalls was going to test him before he ended up getting given away, but that didn't mean that he thought he was ready for it. His ass clenched hard, and he remembered just how he had been trained in the transformation machine. What the hell was going to happen to him when he was with clients? What were they going to do with him that couldn't be done by the machines?

Yet, was there a way to say no? He already knew that there wasn't. He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"When does the car get here?"

"That's the fun part. It doesn't."

"...What?"

"Get on a coat, and start watching, girl."

"But...but..."

"That's right. You're barefooting it down to the brothel. The guard will give you the address. Get walking...and don't try and get away. The shackles are tracking you. You go off the beaten track...and we'll come for you. And you won't like that."

He had little doubt that Mr. Smalls was right about that. He shivered at the idea of the guards coming out of the building and chasing him down, his hole clenching around the plug that he'd been forced to wear inside him for the last six hours. He reached back, adjusting it with his free hand as he nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Smalls."

"Get going, kid. You got a lot of work to do today."

Click. The line disconnected. He shivered as he looked back at the mirror, slowly laying the handset back where it needed to be.

The accessories were fancy, but they were all the clothes that he was allowed. Even being given an overcoat was hardly protection against the streets, not when he was this exposed to start with, and not when he was being made to go barefoot through the city. He could only imagine the eyes that he would draw when he walked around out there, and particularly if a stray breeze caught the edge of the coat and -

"Mmmph..."

His cock jerked upwards at the thought of being exposed, of letting someone else see how big his cock had become. That wasn't a long-lasting thought, though, and other, less hot fantasies started to pop into his mind. Fantasies of being pinned, of being fucked, even raped in the streets because of how little he wore. Sure, Mr. Smalls would come down on them for violating his property, but that wouldn't help him in the moment, would it?

No, no, it wouldn't. He had to be careful.

The door to the small room opened, and a rhino held out an overcoat. Greg hesitated for a moment, then took it, wrapping it around his shoulders and shoving his arms down the sleeves. The big guy chuckled.

"Looking hot, slut."

"Mmmph...Not a slut."

"Close enough."

"You have...you have the address?"

"Yeah. Right here. Mama Fulini's Brothel."

The rhino passed him a small corner of a piece of paper, one that had an address for a corner establishment halfway across town. The thought of heading that far through the subway and then through two different parks just to get on his back and get fucked...

Can't complain. Not out loud. Can't do that.

"I'll be on my way, then," he said, trying to play it off as best he could. The rhino just chuckled, and he knew that he'd failed.

The walk was horrible, and the subway was filled with more gropes than a Japanese hentai movie. By the time that he had gotten off the train, his ass felt bruised, and he would not have been surprised if the cheeks were polka-dotted with little pinch-marks from top to bottom. He rubbed his ass as he walked across the second park, just making out the red neon sign that led to Mama Fulini's place. The husky wanted to turn around and sulk for a while, to complain, but he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. He needed to get through this, to force himself through this first round.

The one thing that he had going for him was a little bit of practice. Just with the occasional toy, for the most part - he'd had his bi-curious phase, like pretty much everyone else, and he'd established that he had at least a passing interest in dicks - but it was a long time ago. But at the very least, he wasn't going into this hating the idea of getting a cock. It was just the matter in which he was getting it that he found objectionable.

He pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked up to the front door of the brothel, where a big, thuggish sort of coyote waited for him. The canine held out a hand to stop him.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"...Work," Greg said, his cheeks burning again.

"Work, huh? You the new guy?"

He nodded wordlessly, and the coyote smirked.

"Heh, well, I still gotta check ya. Open your coat."

"What?"

"Open your coat, kid."

"But...but I'm..."

The coyote had to know what he was dancing around saying, but was there any understanding? Any kindness? Any mercy? No, there wasn't. The canine guard only grinned more.

"Hehehehe...open it."

"But -"

"Open it, or go home."

"..."

With his cheeks burning hotter than the sun, he slowly pulled at the edges of the long coat. He revealed his bare feet, the shackles, then a bit more. The coat opened enough to show the tops of his calves, then his knees, then his thighs. He kept waiting for the coyote to tell him to stop, but he didn't. Further up, further up, up to the top of the thighs, showing the curve of his balls, but still no command to stop.

It wasn't until the base of his cock rings could be seen that the coyote chuckled and nodded for him to lower the coat again. Greg did it as soon as he was allowed, whimpering with humiliation and embarrassment.

"That's about what I thought, kid. Looks like they got you good."

"Mmmph...you...you..."

"Oh, you wanna insult me? Take care, kid. If you're still on shift, I get a shot at you, too. You want to give me a reason to remember you besides just thinking you're hot?"

"..."

"That's right. Now, get inside. Mama Fulini will give you a room, and then you'll get your first client."

He was more than a little mortified at the reminder of being fucked all day, but he knew better than to antagonize the mob further. Mr. Smalls had made it more than clear that this was going to be his life from now on. If he pissed them off, then there was going to be a great deal more to deal with if he wanted to try and get away. If he didn't do amazing, if he didn't throw himself into it to throw them off the scent, then the gangsters would start tying him up, leaving him chained, and -

God, he'd never get away if that happened. He had to go along with it. Just for a little while.

He stepped past the coyote and into the brothel. The whole place was lined with sheets and tapestries along the walls, looking for all the world like some old hippie commune rather than a place of sex and debauchery. Then one would take a breath, and the smell of rut would hit them.

Certainly, it hit Greg. He gasped, the sensitive husky covering his nostrils as his head went funny almost right away from the smell of all the sex going on in the background. His head spun, his eyes rolled, and his cock twitched. More than that, his pucker clenched on the plug back there, which shoved it right into his prostate. He stumbled, dirty, sensitive feet sliding across sensual carpets, and -

"Mmmmmmmph..."

He fell to all fours, panting for breath, the coat flying open and his breasts hanging down. His tail went up almost immediately, showing off the golden base of the plug inside of him. He whimpered, his fingers curling tight into the carpets under him to try and give him some sort of link back to reality. The whole thing was so intense, so sensitive, that he didn't know if he could take being pinned under that sort of musk for long.

As he huffed for air, puffing it out his mouth rather than daring to breathe through his nose, someone walked over. He didn't look up, not even when he felt a hand on his back. Something soft, gentle. Feminine? Kind of. Might have been. Not sure. Hard to think.

"Oh, dear, dear, look at you. So eager for it already?"

Definitely feminine with that voice. Yet, when she walked around into view, she had a bulge, just the same as him. He looked past the cock wrapped in satin, glancing up at her face. An older otter woman looked down at him, possessing breasts bigger than his, pierced through the nipples with thick, door-knocker style piercings. They hung down, pulling her nipples with them, making them look all the bigger and more sensitive.

She offered him a rag, and he pressed it to his nose. It wasn't much, but it filtered the musk out enough for him to get to his feet again, to be able to think clearly and look forward.

"Nnngh...Thanks..."

"No worries, dear. I'm Fulini. And you are...Gina, yes?"

"...I guess I am."

"Another one of Mr. Smalls's deals?"

"Something like that," he admitted, shaking his head. "I don't...I'm sorry. I'm still..."

"Still admitting defeat?"

"I - ...I guess."

"You'll get there, eventually. We all do in the end."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, but the otter didn't give him the chance to think about it for long. She gestured with one finger for him to follow her, and he wasn't about to turn down the guidance. She led him out of the front room, taking him to a hallway towards the back ones.

"This is going to be your life for the next week or so. Mr. Smalls wants to see to it that you get trained in how to use your body. To help with that, that collar of yours is going to be giving your brain little updates from time to time."

"Um...what do you mean by 'updates'?"

"Think of it, um, like the phone updates that you get. Gotta update the operating system from time to time, right?"

"Kinda?"

"Well, that's what it's going to do to your brain. Take all the stuff that you do, and then help you do it better. Can't go selling off a slut that doesn't even know how to give a proper titjob, after all."

"Well...I...I guess..."

It was kind of terrifying that the collar around his neck could do even more than he thought. Whatever tech that Mr. Smalls was stealing off of the big companies was stuff that he really hoped never hit the public domain. That kind of thing would wreck the way that people treated one another, and if the employers ever got something like that, goodbye to the unions, and goodbye to anyone that wanted to be treated nicely. He shivered, running his fingers around the edge of his collar with a shake of his head.

They passed several rooms, some doors closed, one opened. He had a brief moment of watching an otter girl, a younger one, getting rutted. She had smaller endowments than him, but looked like she was getting into it a lot more. For a moment, she almost seemed to be screaming for her lover to fuck her harder, her body glowing purple with some sort of neon light. It almost...

No, no, that was impossible. They walked on, and Fulini opened the door to reveal an empty room. The bed was stained, and the sheets smelled as strongly of musk as the rest of the place did. She gestured for him to step inside, and he did, though not without a little wince as he looked around.

"I'm...supposed to stay here?"

"All day, dear. Until Mr. Smalls calls and says you can go back."

"How...how many, um, clients, right? How many of them..."

"Oh, probably about ten before the day is out."

"Ten?!"

"Hey, don't be upset. You're new. By the end of the week, you should have at least twenty with a body like that."

Greg could feel the blood draining from his face in fear. He didn't know if he could take even half that. He'd never bottomed for someone, let alone multiple someones in sequence. Fuck, how was he going to get out of this with his head on straight?

Was that even possible, at this point? He didn't know, and that was a horrifying thing to admit.

Fulini stepped into the hall, paused, and looked back at him. She smiled.

"I'd stop breathing through the rag now. You're going to want to be good and high for this."

"..."

"Just a suggestion, dear."

The otter left, and Greg sat on the bed, looking down at his hands. The whole reality of the situation was crashing down on him now. He was no longer just a husky that had had a good chance of getting to the big time and who had just stumbled on some bad luck. He was owned, now. He was a mobster's slave. And he was in a brothel to be turned into a sex slave, specifically, something that he would never be able to leave behind. The collar around his neck would probably make it so that he never wanted to leave it behind, even worse.

As he gripped the ring around his neck, he breathed slowly, trying to think clearly, but panic was starting to set in. He didn't know how he could get through this. He wanted to...he wanted to...

He dropped the rag without thinking, and his next breath hit him hard with the reek of musk and sweat and more. The pheromones in the air from the constant sex bowled him over, leaving him flat on his back, the coat spread out to either side as he breathed it in.

"Holy...fuck..."

Another breath, another, and his cock slowly pulled upwards, throbbing not just from the rod inside, but from the way that it was pulsing, oozing pre-cum down the shaft and through the little plug at the end. It would push the plug up a bit, then let it fall back down inside, squishing out more of the flow and leaving him feeling plugged once more, before the next bit of the flow pushed it out again, starting the cycle all over again. He was self-fucking his own dick, and some part of his mind found that utterly hilarious.

As he giggled, he kept breathing, and his entire body started to relax, almost as if he'd been dosed by some sort of powerful aphrodisiac. His eyes rolled back, his nipples hardened, and his entire body started to feel sensitive beyond the common lot of things. His head rolled left, right, left, and as he breathed out through his mouth, his puffy lips felt...good. Better than good. Great. He reached up, idly touching his mouth, and he moaned as he slid his fingers past his lips, feeling the way that it sent an electric shock right down from his mouth to his cock, making him hyper-aware of everything happening in his mouth.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

He started sucking his finger without thinking, the action coming to him as if it were a cock. He shivered, his free hand reaching, not for his shaft, but for his plug. Dragging it down, he could feel the stiff metal slowly tugging at the inner sphincters, dragging it out a bit, then pushing it back in, then dragging them out once more. The soft pulling, pushing, tugging, dragging, only made him moan that much more, realizing how much more sensitive his hole had gotten. He managed to roll onto all fours, sucking his finger as he slowly fucked his ass with the plug.

Smack, smack, smack, the toy slapping into him, then pulling out, then slapping in again. The feeling of it tugging on his rim, the powerful feeling of getting fucked, the generous bounce of his cheeks: all of it contributed to a warm, happy feeling of lust that built up hotter and hotter inside of him. This was good. This was fucking great.

He was adding his own mess to the sheets when the door finally opened. Greg panted, his hole clenching and sending the plug flying to the floor, and it hit with a loud thump as he looked over his shoulder. A well-built iguana stood in the doorway, looking down at him with a small smirk, one that was growing by the second.

"Well, well, well. That kinda slut, huh?"

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"All high, already?"

"Mmmph...fucking...it's hot..."

"God, I love it here."

The iguana shut the door, and as he turned around, Greg saw his bulge. The husky knew that it was going to be a bit of a big one from the outline, but as the lizard pulled his zipper down, exposing a nine-incher, he just felt happy to see something good-sized. He moaned, licking his lips, dragging his fingers up and down along his ass-cheeks and rubbing right over his pucker.

"Please..."

"You want it already, huh?"

"Mmmph...I want..."

"You want, you want. Hey, whore. Remember. It's what I want."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, get over here. On your knees."

Still operating on partial coherence at best, the husky slid out of bed as if the foot of the bed really was a slide, hitting his knees and slowly making his way to the lizard. He blushed, feeling his breasts dragging down along his chest, making it hard for him to ignore them. His shoulders brushed them as he wiggled forward, making him feel like, maybe, he should be pressing them together, giving something of a show, or something like that.

But the iguana didn't complain. He pushed the edge of his muzzle under the big guy's balls, almost tasting the thick musk that came off those orbs, and he dragged his nostrils up along the sac to the base of the shaft. It was still rising, getting stiffer, stronger, harder, but it was good and heavy on his face, and -

Fuck...why does this feel...

It felt so good. Whether it was the pheromones, the collar, or something else, he felt good being on his knees. He panted hard, his breath probably hot and a little wet along the shaft, and he dragged his tongue from base to tip. The soft, salty taste of pre-cum mixed with the bitterness of sweat and flesh, and he moaned under his breath as he got closer and closer to the tip.

As soon as he hit the top, the iguana grabbed him by the back of the neck. He had a half-second to realize what was about to happen, and it wasn't enough to brace. The iguana shoved forward. Hard.

If it was possible to cum from giving a blowjob, Greg was pretty sure that he would have done that right then and there. For that matter, he honestly wasn't sure if he hadn't; his cock felt like it was jumping around as if he had just cum his brains out, and his eyes rolled back from the oddly pleasurable feeling of the cock sliding past his lips. The puffy, bimbo-esque lips that he had made him shiver with delight, almost as if something big and pulsing was rubbing up against his prostate at that very second.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"Hehehe, yeah, you're one of them, aren't ya? A Smalls Special."

"Mmmph...ah...ah - mmmmph!"

The iguana had pulled out and rammed right back in without any further warning, and this time, the thrusting just kept going. Each slide over his lips was as good as the plug had been going in and out of his ass, and he moaned under his breath every time that he felt it going into his throat. Between it, the heady musk of the brothel, and the thick, scaly, raspy smell that was coming from the iguana, he almost felt as if he was going into a trance of some sort.

Don't...don't want to...like this...

But it was impossible to deny the pleasure that was coursing through him, particularly as he felt his cock bouncing up and down against his tightly-clenched thighs. Hands on the back of his head yanked him down again and again, each time forcing him to take that cock balls deep, feeling the rigid, throbbing, veiny texture of it against his puffy, sensitive lips. He could feel the collar pulsing, throbbing against his neck, too.

The downloading. The updates.

Greg gasped as he swallowed hard, feeling the fleshy rod twitching in his throat. It was learning, he was learning, how to give a proper blowjob. He moaned around it, his tongue vibrating ever so slightly, giving that stimulation that the iguana obviously needed to get closer to getting off. Greg lifted his tongue, making the next thrust rub against the roof of his mouth while giving him the chance to lick along the underside.

Small tricks, but they added up. Soon, the iguana was panting, huffing and puffing over him, oozing pre-cum with every thrust and training him to enjoy the flavor. He could hardly believe how thick it was, how much there was of it, and his head swam as he swallowed again and again to clear his mouth and throat.

Why...does...this...feel...so...good?

Greg had no answer, nor did he have any inclination to beg for it to stop. No matter how humiliating it might be to whore himself out - and he was too horny, too high on musk and pleasure to care about that right then - he was enjoying himself. He wanted more. Needed more.

He finally thrust his head forward, swallowing hard around the thick rod offered to him, and the iguana gasped. He was held down, pinned in place, made to swallow again and again. Somehow, he knew that he wasn't getting a load just yet, was being made to deepthroat instead, but he didn't care. Swallow, swallow, swallow.

And then, it was done. The iguana pushed him back, leaving them connected by a line of spit from cock to mouth. Greg panted for breath, the husky feeling so pent-up, his cock throbbing and dripping with pre-cum from under the sounding plug. He whimpered, sounding all the more slutty, he knew, but he barely cared. Something had snapped in him. Something...something was getting almost addicted to the pleasure of being used, now, something needed it more and more, all the time.

"Please..."

"Heh...please, what, slut?"

"Please...more..."

"More what?"

"More..." He nosed against the iguana's cock. "More...cock..."

"Heh, alright. But this time..."

He knew what was coming, and he didn't care. He climbed back on the bed, turning around and raising his tail. His hole was still being trained, but did that matter to him right at that moment? Not in the fucking slightest. He wanted to be fucked. He wanted to feel that cock in him, and he wanted to feel like he could cum.

His cock ached. It throbbed away beneath him, begging for the chance to cum, to spew its load all over the bed and floor. So far, it had only dribbled. It wanted to cum. If getting face-fucked wouldn't do it, maybe getting ass-fucked would push him over the edge.

It didn't take long for scaly hands to peel his cheeks apart, nor much longer after that for that spit-slick rod to start grinding up his taint towards his hole. Greg was flying high on his pleasure, unable to think about the negatives. Maybe there was something more in the collar, something that made him enjoy giving up his body that much more than he should, but...but if there was, was that a bad thing? Was he really losing all that much just by enjoying himself rather than being utterly miserable? He had been afraid, but now, he was just horny.

Horny, and dripping, and desperate.

That throbbing cock rubbed up to his hole once, twice, three times before finally pressing against his rim. The well-stretched pucker from the plug had started to close, but not enough to hold the lizard's shaft back. He gasped as he felt the heated flesh against his, feeling the slight burn of something a little dry sliding in, forcing him open. The sensation wasn't painful, but it wasn't easy. It was...it was sharp, powerful, thick, filling, and oooooh fuck.

He moaned as his head went down, his breasts flattening against the bed, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as that thick cock found his prostate and ground right over it. His toes curled into the sheets and his eyes rolled back in his head, leaving him feeling like some of those pornos when someone's brain got fucked right out. No cumming yet, but fuuuuuuck, his cock felt like it didn't really matter. Not when he had something that nice in his ass.

"Mmmph...fuck yes..."

"Heh, you like that, bitch?"

"Mmm...mmm-hmmm..."

"Let's see how hard you can take it, huh?"

Another three inches slammed in, the iguana finally going balls deep, and then the fuck really started. Greg's new breasts became much-needed cushions as he was rammed hard from behind, each thrust taking him along the bed, pushing him up to the headboard until he had to brace himself against it. He moaned as his breasts jiggled under him, as his ass shook behind him with every thrust. In, out, in, out, each time making him moan that much more. In, out, in, out, that cock pulling at his rim and making him feel more stretched, more like a fuck-hole.

More like someone's cum-dump.

More like a toy.

Greg shivered, feeling like she should be fighting that sensation, that thought, but there was something so sexy about just giving in at that moment that she had a hard time even noticing the other changes. She rocked her hips back to meet that throbbing cock, milking it, squeezing it as the collar throbbed around her neck. The iguana was panting already, his hands going from his hips to her shoulders -

"Ah!"

She gasped as she was pulled upwards, her cock thrusting straight ahead, her breasts bouncing as the iguana changed his grip. They were fucking in a kneeling position, and he was right about to go over the edge. She could feel it with the way his cock was throbbing, the way that he was hammering home, the way he was getting so desperate.

"Cum...cum in me," she whispered.

And he did. With one last thrust and a grip on her breasts that was so tight that it almost hurt, he came, flooding her asshole and spreading his seed through her. She shivered, the warmth something so different, but feeling so good. Her tongue hung out, almost cumming herself, but something held her back. Something...something that she didn't understand, but honestly, no longer cared about.

It felt good to be used.

It felt good to be fucked.

It felt good to be a slut.

The thoughts were coming fast and furious now, sliding into her just as the iguana slid out of her. She slumped back down to all fours, only to yelp as she felt him wipe his cock off on her foot, leaving his seed all over her.

"Good job, slut. I'll tell the next guy that he can come in."

"Mmmph..."

"What's your name?"

"G -" She choked, blushing. "Gina."

"Gina, huh? Well, 'Gina.' Looking forward to using that ass again."

The End

Summary: Greg is sent down to a brothel to start learning how to use his body properly. Unfortunately, more than that will happen.

Tags: S/solo, intersex, prostitution, otter, iguana, husky, various species, anal, oral, blowjob, face fucking, bimbo lips, big breasts, exhibitionism, musk, mind control, corruption, series, cum, orgasm, creampie, foot fetish,