CONTENT WARNING: sexual content, tentacles, eggs/breeding, dub con
Remy
Staring down at the cold, bent bronze coins in his palm Remy puffed out his freckled cheeks. Three copper coins. Barely enough for a loaf of yesterday's bread, let alone the rent he owed Missus Bently. And unlike a lot of other people, he didn't qualify for any of those fancy credit chips or accounts. No, he had to deal in physical coins.
Grumbling, Remy glanced about his halfway decent apartment. At least there wasn't peeling paint or cockroaches, and it wasn't just a one-room loft. No, instead, he had a single large window in his living room, a galley-style kitchen with barely enough counter space for his coffee machine to have a permanent spot, and a single bedroom with a bathroom. No space for any laundry machines, no matter how compact they were, and Remy couldn't afford one in any case.
Remy shoved the coins into his cinch purse and started rooting through the couch; maybe one of his Johns had dropped some change. After tossing the cushions and pillows to the floor, Remy came away with a wrapped piece of gum, half a cigarette, a paperclip, and a single half-copper.
Muttering about cheap assholes who ruined his couch with their spend, Remy replaced the cushions and fluffed the pillows. He dropped the half-copper into his cinch purse and left the rest on the coffee table.
"Well, guess I gotta find a wealthy John tonight," Remy muttered. Turning, he strode into his single bedroom and flung open his closet. Frills and lace graced his eyes, and he allowed himself a grin.
He really only had one asset he could sell, and that was his body. Picking out a black corset with rose embroidery, Remy tossed that onto his bed behind him. Remy snatched the lowest cut linen shirt he owned in a deep wine red to match the corset. Rummaging through the closet, Remy shook his head at one lovely red satin skirt with sheer frill fringe, turned away from a thin red and black multi-layered affair, and finally settled on a sheer black lace skirt. The daringly high hem and flowing layered back would do well to accentuate his ass. He dropped the skirt onto the bed next to the corset with a grin, then turned back to his dresser.
Ransacking his stocking drawer, he retrieved a pair of sheer, fashionably ripped hose. He tossed those onto the growing pile, then dove back into his drawers for accessories. Remy found sheer black ribbons for his neck and hair, a ruffle-covered bracelet, and a pair of lacey elastic garters to keep his stockings up. To top off the outfit, he retrieved his ankle boots with the four-inch heels. Grinning, Remy traced his fingers over the satin bow and the black leather, humming in pleasure.
Satisfied with the outfit, he hurried into the bathroom, stripping away his trousers and loose top. Remy plugged in his curling iron and grabbed his makeup kit, placing it within easy reach. That set, he took a quick and thorough shower in the cold, half-hearted spray—the water heater just didn't work well and the pressure was a joke—then toweled himself dry.
He wrapped his long hair in the towel and padded barefoot into his bedroom. With practiced hands, Remy slipped on his garters and stockings first, then the selected skirt. He cinched the sides of the skirt and tied it tight, making sure he could still breathe while making a good impression. Next, he pulled his linen shirt over his head and kept the neck's gap wide, ensuring he didn't get the fabric damp. Though he was itching to get his corset on, Remy tugged on every accessory and tied up his boots first. Finally, Remy grabbed the corset and ribbons before strutting back into the bathroom. Even without the corset, he knew he cut a figure women envied and men yearned for.
Remy lined up the corset and tugged each connection in place, using the mirror to aid him. Each one snicked as it lined up and connected the two sides. He tugged the corset once, then pushed it up under his chest to give the impression of a small bust.
