Room 1067 - First thoughts

[AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality]

Ayers entered his suite. A small sitting room, and moving through it the bedroom. Closed door, probably the bath. He placed his valise on the bed and began stripping off his suit.

His head was swimming. Even though he’d had a few months to get used to this new place, the encounter a few moments ago was nearly overwhelming. The last person to walk in stunned him, bringing him back to the stories of his youth. A faun? He couldn’t understand; was he getting closer to home, or so far away that even legends were commonplace? And if the latter … this place is called the Hotel California? And what did the young … he didn’t know her race yet … say? “Your stay will be long indeed.” And Mother Meixiang? “I believe the bill has been paid … for all of us.” Are the rumors true, then? Is this place the Eagles’ song made real? If he were trapped here, what would happen when the magicks collided? Could he finally find peace?

As he reached for some clothing more appropriate for the work to come, he caught sight of himself in the floor mirror. Nothing he hadn’t seen before thousands of times. A lifetime of exercise and manual labor left him in better condition than many professional athletes. Save his age and the burn scars, he might have been considered an adonis by some.

But his cock? Not erect, but not as flaccid as it had been in recent years. It was a respectable 15 cm long; he’d never be a AAA porn star but he’d never had to be shy in the baths, either. But he was uncut, and it was almost 7 cm in diameter. He was girthier than he was long, and most women recoiled from him in the bedroom. Some even fainted. Nearly all wanted nothing to do with it.

But he’d just come from the most sexually-charged room he’d ever been in, and the faun coming into the picture only promised that it would get worse. At least one part of him felt that things were going to be different here.

He thought about the four persons he’d just left. Mother Meixiang, a Chinese(?) Valkyrie moonlighting as a Dominatrix. She’d rubbed him the wrong way a bit, but he was willing to reassess. After all, people aren’t always at their best at the end of travelling. But he sensed that they were subtly alike in their dominance, and that might lead to problems later. Fire and flamboyance against quiet, cold steel.  That could lead to interesting things.

The young woman who’d checked him in. She was likely both a bottom and a subbie, and not terribly shy about making it known to all of us. She practically screamed ‘take me’, but it was obvious that Mother Meixiang had set her sights on her, and the girl wasn’t displeased. Well, he had plenty of time to see where that went.

The faun made him both wary and nervous. Hedonists, tricksters, and very lustful if the stories were true. He’d give her the benefit of the doubt but be on guard nonetheless. He wondered if he were even up to the chance of getting out of any webs that she wove.

And then there was the Ookami girl. She was intriguing, even intoxicating. She looked to be forbidden fruit in a myriad of ways: too young, too innocent, too hurt. And yet none of the above. Her eyes were older than her appearance, she moved with the wariness of a huntress, and her scars didn’t appear to hinder her at all. Like his, blemishes to offset too much beauty. A wolf? A waif? Or both?

Even a week ago, wanting to make love to a non-human would have been unthinkable, but now that didn’t seem important anymore.

He sat on the bed, head in hands. Breathe, he told himself. You are a man, not some young boy being dragged about by his balls. Control yourself!

Sighing, he dressed and left to fetch the crates.

Edited April 10 by AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality
Correcting autocorrect and poor grammar.

[AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality]

Nobody really understands what dark is until you've gone underground, where the sun has never been. The last embers of his cigar finally vanished, leaving only the void. He leaned his head back against the wall. He had the worst headache of his life, and he could feel the world spinning even if he couldn't see it. He'd puked his guts out, but wasn't even dry heaving now. The stench of rotten eggs had faded some time ago, and he knew what that meant. The Stinkdamp was killing him faster now.

Just another six weeks to mine a couple of hundred more pounds of Garnets in this Alaskan hellhole; that's all he'd wanted. Just enough to be able to cache in national parks across the country for when he needed a new stake, and then he was going to sell this hole to a big corporation and move on to something new. He'd told nobody of this find, and thus nobody was coming to help. He doubted they'd be able to even if they did know. The earth had heaved so violently that it had bounced him off the ceiling of the tunnel at least twice before he'd passed out. He'd awoken covered with stone; the shaft had collapsed, and the air and lights had failed. He'd cleared his upper body from the rubble but stopped there because his back was broken. Then the smell came. Well, better than slowly dying of thirst for over a week. He closed his eyes and just went to sleep.

Ayers sat up in bed, sweating profusely.  This place was definitely getting into his head; he hadn't had that nightmare in years. He needed a drink, not from his flask. He wasn't going to be sleeping anymore for a while, so he might as well dress and explore his new home.

He'd known that he was off his game when he tried to fetch his luggage only to find that he'd walked right past the crates stacked neatly in the corner of the sitting room. He'd spent the rest of the day unpacking and arranging things to his liking. The armoire full of suits in its familiar spot in the bedroom, and his armchair looked out the window across the grounds. His Lorica Squamata was back on its stand, with the balteus, gladius, and galea back in their usual places. The cutlass and marlinspike were on the wall, as was his gun belt and Colt Peacemaker. It wasn't home, but it was at least familiar now.

Making one last check that his tie was knotted correctly, Ayers left in search of the bar.