A bath and a wardrobe.

“Come with me and I will show you to our bath.” Ivy said, opening her door and gesturing for me to follow.

She led me back down the stairs and through the common room. I understood now why it appeared so comfortable, with plenty of expensive looking leather chairs, couches, and well-crafted tables. Ivy briefly described the layout of the building to me as we walked through. She explained that there were two major portions of the brothel, the tavern and the actual brothel. While the tavern was open all day, the brothel was only open half of the day so the whores could rest, and every ten days it was closed entirely. A pair of double doors separated the two portions of the building, which Ivy pointed out to me as we passed by.

The tavern portion of the building had the bar, tables, and the kitchen. It also functioned as an inn, with four rooms containing two beds each, and two rooms containing a single double-bed on the second floor. Finally, a public bath was available, though Ivy mentioned this was not the bath I would be using.

The brothel portion had the main common room where guests mingled with each other and the whores, four rooms with double beds where services were rendered, and the second floor contained the madam’s room, and a single large room that was a lounge and recreation room. Ivy explained to me that each of the four service rooms doubled as the whore’s personal quarters, when they had clients, they would take them into their quarters. It was not uncommon nor forbidden, however, for the whores to sleep with each other in various other quarters or wherever they pleased. The brothel section of the Scarlet Tail also housed a bath that was exclusively for the madam and whores. Even clients that asked for bathing services would do so in the public bath on the other side of the building, not the private one.

When I inquired as to the reason for this, Ivy’s response was simple. “Being a prostitute is stressful work. Even they need places where they can relax and have privacy. There may come times that they need a moment to clear our heads or even to just be away from the work for a moment. There are places here where our workers can do that. The lounge is one of those places, the private bath and the madam’s room are two such other places for the whores.”

I nodded, that seemed like a good reason. Part of me was glad it was like this. My first instinct as a human when I hear the word demon was to assume cruelty, evil, and barbarism. Quite frankly I was glad my instinct was wrong; the truth was that they were surprisingly human and even compassionate.

She led me into a hallway behind the common room that passed by the kitchen. Inside I saw one of the short red demons with a long noses and wings, busying himself and putting away foodstuffs from crates inside the well-organized kitchen.

“I hope this isn’t a rude question,” I began as we passed, “but what sort of demon is the cook?”

“Oh,” Ivy began, “an imp. Probably the third most common demon in this layer after omen and ifran. His name is Mentis by the way, and I would recommend talking to him sometime. He’s been around for a while and has lots of interesting stories.” Ivy said and opened a door. She gestured for me to enter it.

Once inside I felt myself smile a little, it looked very cozy. There was a clean-looking stream flowing through the room in a small trench in the floor. It came from a grate in one wall, flowing in an arc around the outside of the room and flowing out of another grate next to the doorway. Aside from the marble trench, the floor was a very smooth wood that seemed to be water-repellant.

On the other side of the door sat a number of crates, one of which held numerous soaps, perfumes, scented oils and towels. Two other crates were empty, but had words printed on the sides, one said “clean” and the other said “dirty”. The one that said “dirty” had a heart scratched into the wood next to the word.

As I was looking at the crates, something got thrown into the one labeled “clean” from behind me. Curious, I turned to see Ivy completely topless beside me.

“Oh! Uh,” I stammered, immediately realizing what was happening, “I can clean myself.” I assured her.

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.” She said and took a step toward me, her freed lavender-colored teardrop-shaped breasts tipped with large, purple nipples bouncing as she did.

“Well, all right then, but why?” I asked.

“Three reasons,” she said, placing a soft hand on my shoulder and guiding me to a stool next to the water and scooping out a bar of soap from one of the crates, “one, you may not realize it but agreeing to my apprenticeship is a great weight off my shoulders, and I would like to thank you for it. Two, as the madam it is your right and privilege to use the whores here however you please, and I wish to get you used to being bathed by them. And three, because I want to, and shouldn’t that be enough?”

I shrugged. “You aren’t a whore, though, are you?” I asked.

“No, but,” she tapped the metal plate on her collar, reminding me of its message, “this basically means the same thing. I’ll leave my pants on so as not to tempt you, however.” She winked and sat me down. She knelt down in front of me. “How shall I begin?”

Seeing the gorgeous, violet-skinned beauty, who commands such a fierce presence normally, on her knees in front of me was enough for my lengthy member to become half-hard already. Something in that moment awoke in me, seeing this. I realized this was ideal, this is what I desired to see more than anything, and I became more comfortable in my position. Something about being serviced in this way so casually by someone so beautifully fiendish in appearance fit my soul like a glove.

“You’ve made me half-hard, it will be easier to clean my cock if it’s fully erect don’t you think?” I asked.

Ivy licked her lips slowly and nodded.

“Perhaps you ought to give it a good scrubbing with your lips before cleaning it properly.” I suggested and then leaned forward, placing my elbow in my knee and resting my head on my palm, smiling casually at her.

“I agree.” She said, dutifully, and then without complaint opened her soft-looking lips and slid my length into her mouth. She immediately hummed with satisfaction; her eyes half-closed. The feeling of her mouth was immediately different from Korivia’s, and not just because it was coming from a different angle. Something was strange but delightful about the feeling.

It wasn’t until after a few seconds of gentle bobbing and Ivy had lifted herself off of my length to lick the shaft I realized why it had felt different. Her tongue was forked, split into two different parts about an inch back from the tip. It made the sensation of her licking along my member delightful, as it almost seemed like each side was hugging it slightly as it went.

She chuckled. “You seem surprised at my tongue.”

“I wasn’t expecting that. I like it though, keep going.” I ordered and she obeyed, sliding my cock back between her lips and suckling delightedly. While she sucked on the tip, her dual-tipped tongue slid along my glans, back and forth, tickling the sensitive flesh pleasantly.

“Excellent.” I said as I tilted my head back, getting lost in the expertise of the brothel madam. She began bobbing along my length again, humming as she did, and it wasn’t long until I came, shooting a stream of seed into her waiting mouth. She closed her eyes as she swallowed the fluid, humming gently between gulps. Not a single drop of my cum was wasted, despite feeling like I was ejaculating a steady line, until my climax ended.

She popped off my cock but not before sucking loudly, drawing out the remaining cream, and smiled. “Managed to clean the inside pretty well, too.” She said.

“Thank you.” I said. “You’re very good at that.”

“I was a whore myself before I inherited this place. I know my way around a big, throbbing cock like yours. Let’s get you cleaned up now.” She said, reaching for the soap and lathering it up in her hands.

“No.” I said, and her hands stopped suddenly. “Allow me. Wrap your arms under your bust.” I said and she obeyed. “Don’t let it fall.” I said and dropped the chunk of soap between her cleavage. She squeezed her arms together, making her breasts tight. I then reached forward and grabbed two handfuls of the pillowy flesh and began bouncing them in my hands, roughly squeezing and moving them around. The evidence of the soap’s presence between her teats became clear immediately, as suds began to form along the tight valley of her cleavage. I smiled and included the suds in my wrangling, spreading the lather all over her individual breasts with delight. “Now you may clean me.” I said, grinning once her breasts had become covered in the soapy bubbles.

“You’ll get along great here.” Ivy said, grinning as well as she removed the soap and got to work in earnest, starting with my arms.

I sighed with satisfaction as I felt her softness drag itself along my arm and into my hand. I could feel the soap doing its work and easily brushing away the dirt and dust from my trip here. She even cleaned my nails, allowing me to effectively scratch the flesh at her breasts to get the grit out from under them. Her response to my scratching was to moan gently. She then gave the same treatment to my other arms before allowing me to soap up her breasts yet again with the same process.

Needless to say, my cock was rigid and hard once again, and I was excited to see where she would go next. It was my back, as it happened, and I enjoyed feeling her soft flesh against my hard back. Her stiff nipples dragging along my skin in pleasant patterns. Then she moved to my front, and we hugged each other, pressing our breasts together. I couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, hers were much bigger than mine, and I could feel them almost drowning my own stiff nipples in their pillowy softness and moving them all around, shaking them together erotically and dutifully. After that she slid upward, and rubbed the soap into my face, warning me to close my eyes first, of course. I was delighted to have my face between her wonderfully-shaped breasts.

After another lathering, she moved to my legs, sliding her soapy chest along my thighs and calves, she seemed to leave my feet for last, rubbing their soles against her breasts vigorously to get rid of all the dirt they had accumulated on my forest walk. I loved the feeling of my bare feet on her breasts, and sighed with delight as I effectively groped her teats with my toes.

Finally, she moved to my erect cock, sliding it between her breasts and we both seemed to moan at the same time from the experience. She did not dwell on the member, and that was good because I had not told her to but did ensure that it was properly covered in the soap before moving on.

Next she guided me into the slow-moving stream that ran along the outside of the room. I dipped down into the water, pleasantly surprised and delighted that it was warm. It felt good against my skin and I sighed with satisfaction as I entered, watching with interest as the soap was carried away downstream.

“Where does that go?” I asked as Ivy went to the supply crate to fish out a small wooden bucket.

“Into the lake. We routed a stream outside to split into two and run through the public bath and this one. I believe the water comes from the Blackscale mountains to the west. Travelers have said there’s a spring somewhere up there. I’ve cast a spell to constantly heat the water and cleanse it of any poison or disease.”

“You can use magic?”

“Most demons can.” Ivy explained as she scooped up some water into the bucket, making sure it was the water upstream, so she didn’t get any of my runoff. Then she slowly poured the heated water over my shoulders and I sighed happily again. It felt almost as good as the fellatio I had received. “Though we ifran are some of the best at it. It comes as naturally to us as breathing. In fact, each of us spawns knowing a single spell inherently, and we study and experiment with that spell in order to lead us to other forms of magic. Do you remember how humans use magic?” As she asked, she poured another bucketful of the water over my other shoulder.

The word “familiar” from my dream rose to my mind, but it was without context. Though I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I had set down the red book in Ivy’s room, and suddenly felt slightly anxious. Like I had left a part of me behind. “No, not really.” I replied.

“A shame, I had always been curious.” She said. “Close your eyes a moment.”

I did so and felt a rush of water over my head and through my hair. Afterward I leaned my head back to find the softness of Ivy’s breasts behind it and I rested there. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

Ivy chuckled. “We’re not quite done yet. We still need to oil you up.”

“Oh?”

“As soon as you’re finished soaking come back to the stool.” She said.

I relaxed for a moment longer, closing my eyes and smiling to myself. Ivy remained behind me, seemingly happy to remain my pillow a moment longer. After a few minutes I got up and stepped out of the marble basin and back onto the wooden floorboards, the water rushing down my skin as I did. Ivy grabbed something next to her, a small flask with what she called “oil” inside, only it was totally clear and not like most oil.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Slan oil.” She replied. “Slan are demons that come from Acheron, the submerged seventh layer of Abyssia. They are strange creatures, even by our standards. They have tentacles for hair and one of those tentacles produces a liquid that is quite delicious to drink. It’s such a delicacy that Slan often sell themselves to be milked by merchants who can make an easy profit. Their vaginas also contain a special oil. In addition to being lubricating, it has a sweet scent and it makes the skin smoother and more supple when applied. It’s quite a rare substance, and I happen to be lucky enough to get the stuff in bulk, so I have our whores use it and I use it myself.”

As she explained this, she uncorked the flask and let some of the substance drool out onto her hand. It certainly was strange that these creatures would have oil in their vaginas, but I supposed it was effective if they were constantly underwater. After getting the substance on her hands and rubbing them together, she looked at me inquiringly.

“Hands this time?” She asked.

“Yes. Linger on my penis this time, though.” Not only was I curious to know what a handjob would feel like with this strange oil, I was also curious about something else when it came to my anatomy.

She smiled and nodded, bringing her hands to my back. I was immediately greeted with the scent of the oil, and as Ivy had said there was a hint of sweetness, but it was very subtle and not strong, otherwise the oil had no scent at all to my nose anyway. It did feel good as it got spread all over my back, however.

Ivy continued her handwork, spreading the oil all over my skin and gently massaging the muscles in certain places. I was grateful of this, as I had been stiffer than I realized. She spread the oil over my arms, my legs, my feet, then brought it up to my chest. It felt good against my breasts, and her hands slid over the modest bulges of flesh with grace and careful precision. I let her grope me there for a few moments, enjoying the massage she gave there deeply.

She then had me kneel down in front of the stool and put my head in my arms on top of it while she got under my legs and my lower back. And my rear, another spot she massaged intently, and I allowed it. Her fingers felt good and I couldn’t complain at the level of pampering I was receiving. I imagined there was nobility in the human world that could get this treatment, and that thought made me feel important and confident.

Finally, I sat back down on the stool and her hand delicately wrapped around my cock. The massage at my breasts and rear had brought the member to half-hardness, and it quickly stiffened itself when I felt the slippery oil cover it and Ivy’s expert hands and fingers gliding along my length.

“It’s good that you wanted me to linger here.” She said.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Forgive me for making such an assumption, but you seem like the sort of person who enjoys being fellated.” Her hand became tighter around my shaft, but this only made it slide more, and I moaned as she picked up the pace slightly. “And because slan oil is also an aphrodisiac when ingested.”

I understood the implications at once, and grinned, perhaps a bit devilishly. She was right, of course, I enjoyed being sucked and licked, so this was great news.

“Even after it dries there will be traces of it, and that’s enough. As long as you can smell the scent on yourself it will be in full effect.”

“Excellent. You are giving me kingly gifts.” I said.

She chuckled. “You’re going to enjoy this job immensely.” Her hand pumped along my shaft at a steady pace, not only covering it with the oil but doing a good job of pleasing me in the meantime. She brought up a second hand to help the first, pumping with both of her feminine hands arrhythmically, as though she were massaging the length rather than just stroking it.

“I’m close.” I said, and she responded by wrapping her fingers firmly around the shaft with both hands and stroking back and forth. I was happy to see that my full erect length could be heartily stroked with two hands, as it hinted at the size of the member. There were human men that would be jealous of this size, and that brought me untold delight.

With a groan of pleasure, I felt my ejaculation come, and it was in that moment I realized the feeling I had all along was completely accurate. The sperm didn’t come out in single bursts, mine behaved much differently. Instead it truly did shoot out in a single long stream, almost as if I were urinating the substance rather than ejaculating. The twitching of my cock as the line was milked out by Ivy’s stroking hands only served to make the stream variably intense. I watched with amazement as my cream shot from my tip and into the water to be carried away downstream.

“Do most humans ejaculate like that?” Ivy asked after it was done.

“Not at all, I’m just as surprised.” I said, breathily.

“Well,” Ivy said, “I like it. I think the whores will too.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. After getting toweled off, Ivy led me back to her room so I could get dressed, and afterward she said she would give me the tour.

---

I stared at the mirror in deep thought, I had something of a problem.

The door to the madam’s room opened. “Are you nearly finished? We only have about an hour and a half before we open the brothel and¬—” Ivy stopped mid-sentence as she no-doubt realized I was completely naked and nearly all of her clothes were scattered on her bed. “Have you not tried anything on yet?” She asked.

“Actually, I’ve tried everything. Twice.”

“Surely there’s something that fits. I know our body types are different, but I have things that can be adjusted.”

I shook my head. “That’s not the problem. There were more than a few that fit me well enough. It’s something else entirely.”

Ivy closed the door behind her and folded her arms under her bust, in the very way I was growing to love. “Well, what is it then?”

“Do demons experience dysphoria? In other words, the feeling that their physical body doesn’t… ‘fit’ them in some way?”

Ivy pondered this. “I believe it’s safe to say most feel something similar. Obviously, demons who can change their shape at will would feel no such thing, and we have access to magic that can fix something like that if you can find the right spell to cast. Why?”

I stared at myself in the mirror, my naked form, all of the subtle curves and distributions of fat and bone, and my proportions. “I don’t feel any dysphoria at all. I can’t begin to describe to you how perfect I feel in this body. It doesn’t really conform to what I find attractive, for instance I find larger breasts more attractive, but even still this body doesn’t just fit me, it fits my soul like a glove.”

“That body is perfect, so you don’t want to hide it, is that right?”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I want to show it off. I want the whole world to see how comfortable I am in this skin, in this form. When I put on your clothes, while many outfits of yours are very attractive and suit me nicely, nothing suits this body more than nothing at all.”

Ivy tapped her chin in thought. “Then I see your dilemma. And I am frankly glad to know you see the problem inherent with that mindset. If you were a whore, I would encourage a decision to be nude whole-heartedly, but you are to be the madam.”

“Indeed. I do not want to be mistaken. Those who look at me need to not only know that I am comfortable in my skin, but that I am in charge.” I said, slightly solemnly.

Ivy went and stood next to the bed, piled up with all of her clothes. “Well, take another look. You don’t need to look at the outfits themselves, but each of the individual pieces. See if anything catches your eye. It honestly wouldn’t take too much to achieve what you want, it’s not as impossible as you think.”

I turned to look at the bed, my eyes scanning over it with an open mind. And as she said, something did stand out to me. I was foolish not to think of it sooner. As I lifted the garment a smile crawled along my lips.

“Yes, I see what you meant.” What I had grabbed was a soft, black robe that was sheer. I hadn’t thought to incorporate transparency, it was just what I needed. I donned the robe and looked at the mirror again, sighing with satisfaction.

“Actually, I had three different garments in mind when I said that, and the robe wasn’t one of them. I do agree though, it works. And if that was your solution to the problem then you and I are going to have very different styles of management, and I am intrigued to see what you have in store.” Ivy smiled.

I think I sort of understood what Ivy meant when she said that, and in fact something very interesting was happening in my mind in this very moment. It was as though I were a larva up until this point, and now I was in a cocoon but just beginning to emerge. I would burst forth from the chrysalis in my true shape soon, I just needed the final touches.

“It needs something else, something…” I paused a moment, then turned to the violet ifran, “do demons have surnames?”

Ivy seemed confounded by the question at first, until she realized what I was talking about. “Not typically. We tend to use titles to serve a similar purpose, though like our names those titles are generally granted by ourselves, and usually just to differentiate ourselves. I don’t have one myself.”

That was perfect. My eyes were closed as I envisioned the form I would take when I emerged from the pupa, it would be the identity that stuck with me while I was here. It would be subtle and mysterious, charming but dangerous, I would command an aura of control, but not through fear or imposition, through complete confidence in myself and my strengths. A title was rising to my lips.

“Silus. Silus…” I repeated my name, coaxing the next word out. I must have appeared like a lunatic to Ivy, but I did not mind, I trusted her to see me in such a state. She had given me so much already. “Silus…” it was no use; I didn’t have it yet. I needed more.

“Are you all right?” Ivy asked. That confirmed my suspicion that I must have looked insane.

I nodded. “I’m just trying to find myself. Do you have any jewelry? If so, what metals?”

Ivy looked over at a drawer in front of the mirror. “Gold, copper, shadesteel,” I wasn’t sure what the last one was, but none of those seemed to fit yet, “brass, silver—”

“Silver! Yes!” I said, it was perfect. Silver would fit perfectly. Ivy opened the drawer and began to pull out silver accessories of all varieties. In the end I decided to wear a set of bangles, an anklet on the opposite ankle to the jewelry on my wrist to give a sense of balance through asymmetry. A pair of silver chains to be worn around the neck, and the final touch was a pair of earrings that were silver hoops with emeralds to match my green eyes hanging inside of each one.

An image was getting clearer. In my mind’s eye the cocoon had nearly opened, though it was beginning to seem more like an egg. A gleaming, glittering silver egg with a crack that betrayed how close it was to hatching.

Next was makeup. Subtlety was everything, I didn’t want to mask my face, like my body I felt it to be perfect, so I just enhanced and accentuated. A simple liner around the eyes, a pale foundation to match my fair skin, no lipstick save for a single black line on my bottom lip, bisecting it. My nails were likewise painted black, though at my request, the nails of my middle fingers were painted deep green instead. Finally, in lieu of eye-shadow, the liner was darkened and widened to extend away from the eye in a stark, bold shape creating a cat’s eye pattern at the edge of my eyes, swishing backward and away. But as a final touch, almost as an after-thought, I had Ivy help me do the same pattern but on the other side of my eye, making a slash that pointed down toward my nose as well. This made it distinctly less feline and more…

That’s when the creature burst forth from the egg in my mind’s eye. It was not a butterfly; it was a snake. And not just a snake, but a hydra, a multi-headed serpent that was as graceful and beautiful as it was deadly and vicious.

“Silus Serpentis.” I said at last. That would be my title, and now that I had it, I felt whole. Like a snake I would be silent and unassuming, but when the time was right, I would strike swiftly and coldly.

Ivy stared at me through the mirror and looked at all of my features. “It suits you.” She said.

I smiled. It did not matter who I was before. I would still seek those answers in my own time for curiosity’s sake, but I would not rely on them and would not be crippled by their absence. I was given a second chance at life in Dystopia, and I was determined to make the most of it. The dream had told me to rely on my instincts, and now every fiber of my being was screaming the name “Silus Serpentis”.