Jewel of the Oasis (NSFW)

	Within the suffocating dunes of sand and scorched skeletons arose the murky citadel of Kazitahn. An oasis to the more seedy merchants and businesses of the area, it was also the only recognizable landmark in sight for miles, beckoning the weary and tired into its alluring arms with promises of a place to sleep and a full stomach.

	For a price, of course.

	Within the labyrinth of neon signs and street-merchants blaring their calls for their cheap produce sat a rather prominent gentleman's club, The Widow's Web. Lanterns tinted red hung above the doorway, standing out amidst the watered down browns and golds that had been baking in the sun for too long. Entering this establishment were two figures, huddled closely, with hoods covering their faced from the elements.

	Inside, the air was hot and crowded, but breathable. The two were finally able to shed their outer layers, revealing the faces underneath; a boy, and an android. With their shrouds removed, it was clear the android was the leader of the two.

	“Ash, I really don't like the feel of this place.” The boy said to his partner, his emerald eyes obscured by his golden bangs. He looked around timidly, eyeing an array of women entertaining numerous men in outfits that left very little to the imagination. He turned away immediately, covering his face with his hands “It feels...depraved!”

	“You insisted on coming along for this, Grant.” The android replied, her features resembling a female's. Her eyes look around with honed precision, focusing on anything that caught her attention. “Swallow your pride and start looking around for Nerco. We've little time to become bashful now.” Her eyes narrowed on a scantily dressed woman spinning gracefully around a pole in the very center of the room. A crowd of men and women alike, all hideously over-dressed, cheered and hollered at her performance, showering her with paper bills and coin alike. Concentrating her vision, she was able to make out a door behind her, far off in the corner labeled, “PRIVATE,” in bold font. Returning her vision to normal, Ash leaned in close to the boy. “I'm going to take a look around to see if she has any other spots she could be hiding out in. You should take a look around, see if you can't dig up anything useful in here.” Grant faced her in shock, his body trembling as she began to turn away.

	“W-W-Wait! You can't be serious! You can't leave me in here!” He grabbed ahold of her shoulder and spun her back towards him. “Everything in here is so...unsavory! We can check this place out together later!” Ash pouted and folded her arms in front of her.

	“Grant, please, we're a team. We're only as capable together as we are by ourselves.” She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You're good at hiding out in a crowd, so do some sleuthing and report back to me once you've figured out any information! Check out that door over there in the corner, see if you can't sweet-talk the waitresses, just don't call attention to yourself!” She pulled him in for a hug that Grant desperately tried to extend, but her strength easily outmatched his. As she said her goodbyes, she threw in one last note as she headed for the doorway. “And be on the lookout for anything with a spider on it, that's Nerco's calling card!” Swiftly, the female moved past an arriving group of burly looking men, leaving the blond boy stranded in a sea of deviancy.

	Overlooking the crowd, off behind an array of curtains in a set of reclining chairs, stood Empress Nerco herself. The Necromancer had established a name for herself as a discernible force to be reckoned with amidst the magic-using community; enough to draw the attention of an android and her meager follower to her humble establishment. Setting down a goblet of wine onto an extended platter, her mouth tilting into a bemused smirk. The woman rose to her feet, striding over to the railing where she stood like a hawk eyeing her prey. Her eyes immediately fell onto the blonde-haired boy, who wandered the crowd aimlessly, cluelessly, as she licked her lips.

	“Oh, Azimuth?” She said haughtily to the assistant behind her, cupping her chin between her forefinger and thumb. The imposing man stood at attention, simply grunting an acknowledgment as he awaited her order. “Go be a dear and bring that boy to the back.” She pointed a chiseled nail down at Grant, grinning wickedly. “I've got just the perfect look for him!”

	On the ground floor, Grant took Ash's advice and made his way towards the door she had pointed out. Hating social crowds of his nature, he took it upon himself to try and avoid any contact with the patrons whatsoever, but the crowd grew thicker the closer her got to his destination. The air was pungent with primal lust and the smoke from expensive cigars; he needed to clam his nose shut just to squeeze his way through a group of men being entertained by a stewardess. Her skin was a deep bronze with an ostentatious tan barely covered by her immodest attire. Tassels swayed from her heavy breasts that bounced with each step she took. Grant averted his eyes to keep his wits about him as he tried to sneak behind her, but as he was about to pass, she pushed her hips back and bent forward, giving her clients a look at the thick line her cleavage formed while also bumping her rear against his cheek. The impact made him shudder and sprint ahead before the woman could turn around and realize what had happened.

	Finally, the boy managed to get to his destination, panting heavily as he tried to forget the sudden incident. He brought a hand to the cheek that collided with the woman; it was soft, but the close vicinity of her more private areas made his inhibitions flare up.

	“What a mess...” He uttered to himself, grabbing hold of the door-handle. Before he could turn it, however, the door immediately swung open on its own. Stunned, Grant turned to see the ominous figure of a man in robes standing opposite him, glaring down intently. “Ahh-! I-! I'm sorry! I was, uh, just looking-!” Before Grant could finish, the man grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him through the doorway, slamming it shut behind him.

	In the hallway, the blonde tugged at the man's grip, but to no avail. His attempts at struggling seemed only to tire himself out as he was almost dragged down the hallway before stopping in front of a door.

	“What-? What do you want with me? What did I do?!” Grant cried, pulling at his abductor's shirt.

	“Silence!” The man boomed, leering at Grant who froze up in response. “In here.” His words were quick and to the point as he threw open the door to a brightly lit booth, almost resembling a spare closet. The sides had hooks for articles of clothing while a single mirror on the back-wall reflected their entrance. About calf-high was a stone bench jutting out of the wall for one to sit on with a spare chest sitting open underneath it. Grant's eyes widened behind his bangs as he trembled at the thought of what was in store for him.

	“Wha-wha...?!” He hesitated at the doorway before a strong push almost toppled him over into the glass. Catching himself in time, he turned around frantically to see the man closing the door behind him, sealing the two inside the cramped quarters. The confused expression on his face earned him no answer from the figure other more indifference.

	“Here,” Reaching into the inside of his robe, the man revealed a cleanly folded piece of fabric that took Grant by surprise. “Put this on.” Grant shakily took the garment and gasped at what he had just been handed. It was a bikini top clearly intended for a smaller frame, black and constructed of latex. Tucked inside the folds was a bottom made up of the same material as the top, but was even less supportive than standard underwear; it was practically a thong given the thin strip of latex acting as the main support. The thinness of the material made the blonde's face turn scarlet as he tried to see if there was some sort of mixup.

	“There...there must be some sort of mistake!” He chuckled nervously. “These are...women's clothes!” Grant looked up frantically to see if there was some form of realization in the man's gaunt expression, but his features remained unmoving, his eyes a cold death hiding behind stone “There's-! There's barely anything here!”

	“Ah yes,” The man remarked suddenly, moving past the boy towards the chest underneath the bench. The weight in Grant's stomach momentarily lifted before plummeting back down as the man pulled out a set of high-heels and a myriad of other trinkets. “Put these on as well.”

	Grant's eyes shifted from the skimpy fabric in his hands to the jewelry and footwear being laid across the bench. His face heated up and his mouth trembled to form the words he couldn't find.

	“This...this m-m-m-must be some kind of mistake!!” He stammered, seriously concerned at this point. “I can't-! I can't wear this!” At this mention, the man opposite Grant stood up and stormed over to the boy, easily towering over him as he got pushed into a corner.

	“Your hesitation is starting to get on my nerves.” There was a scorching severity in his eyes now that defrosted his demeanor. “Now are you going to do as I say, or will I need to convince you some other way!?” Slipping a hand into his waistband, he quickly unsheathed a wide-tipped leather crop, tapping it menacingly against the stone wall as Grant huddled further into the corner. “Do not have me instruct you again.” A sudden strike against the wall made the boy yelp out in surprise. Curling into a ball, the boy frantically complied.

	“Oh-! Okay, okay, okay! I'll put the stuff on, just put that away!” Seeing the blonde give in to his demands, the figure merely huffed and leaned his back against the doorway, keeping a steely gaze on him.

	“Good, now dressed quickly. We don't have much time.” Seeing the threat of torment to be over, Grant peaked an eye open towards his captor.

	“Time? Time before what?!” Like lightning, the man struck the wall again with the crop, jolting the boy to his feet. “Okay, okay! I said stop, please!” Looking distraught, he picked up the dainty pieces of fabric and grimaced. “There's barely anything here to wear!” Suddenly realizing the man hadn't left yet, he bashfully looked over his shoulder, and folded his arms in front of him. “Do you have to...watch me?”

	“Change. Now!” The man's chiseled features began to show signs of cracking as his patience drew thin. Seeing he wasn't going to get any privacy, Grant tried his best to ignore the foreign menace, facing his back to him as he began to try and disrobe with as much dignity as possible.

	Throwing off his robe, then his shirt, he found a bit of hesitation as he began to fumble with his pants and trousers. He could still feel the blazing stare of the imposing stranger behind him. In the mirror, he could still see him tightly gripping the whip, turning his knuckles white. He had never been naked in the presence of another, secretly hoping his first time would be in the company of Ash, yet she was nowhere in sight, completely ignorant of his plight. He planned in his mind this would conclude quickly and he could make a getaway before matters got too out of hand, but until then he would need to simply comply and keep from getting hurt. Gulping down the lump of anxiety in his throat, Grant slipped his lower garments down his legs in one fluid motion, trying not to draw anymore attention to himself.

	Through the mirror, Grant saw his bare body in the stark light, his bangs being the only thing left to hide his modesty, he was hoping they wouldn't ask him to tie his hair back for whatever else might come about. His torso was slender than normal for a male his age, the same with his waist, which only made his hips and rear that much more prominent.  They curved smoothly into his thighs and calves, toned from his travels with Ash. The only remotely masculine trait about him were his genitals, which he tried to hide from his abductor's wandering eyes. His lips drew thin as a sharp, impressed whistle split the air behind him; he did his best to ignore the other male in the room as best he could while also working to make sense of the clothes given to him.

	The black top, clearly designed for a woman, was meant to wrap around his chest, covering his barely-defined pectorals, accentuated with a small bow on the very front. The bottom, or lack thereof, was mere strings compared to its counterpart, comprised of a waistline that snapped into his hips, with a pouch that could barely cover his genitals. The bulge made from his shaft and testicles proved a struggle as every sudden movement threatened to have them break free from their prison.

	Sizing himself up in the mirror, Grant felt an overwhelming sense of shame, knowing the ensemble still wasn't finished. Just from the two pieces he had on already, he could tell this was meant to be a spectacle, an eye-magnet. The bulge cradled between his thighs stood out against his pallid skin, enticing anyone's attention towards it. Even he had trouble pulling his eyes away from himself before proceeding with what the man laid out for him on the bench.

	An assortment of accessories were carefully placed, each designed with intent and care to bolster the boy's getup. Immediately he noticed two purple veils folded next to one another, one he quickly wrapped around the lower half of his face, holding intact at least some of his pride. The other he looked at with concern before realizing there was a place he could tuck it into in his thong. Prudently, and with great reservation, he secured the veil to the front of his groin, giving his pouch at least some camouflage. Returning to the bench, rings of varying sizes were placed in a circle as he picked each one up, surveying the cut and sighing before placing them on. However, just as he started to insert his finger into it, the man behind him spoke up.

	“One of them goes on your foot.” Grant, embarrassed by his guidance, silently slipped one of the golden rings over the middle toe on his right foot, too terrified to admit how nice it looked. It felt dignified, or rather, distinctive, as it fit snugly in place. Somehow the jewelry was exactly his size, a thought he didn't want to linger on for too long. Off to the side, there were two more rings connected to a length of fabric, resembling gloves. He quickly deduced they were meant to go up his arms. It was a softer, more breathable fabric than the latex that made up most of his outfit, which was a relief to the boy, as he hoped something about what he was wearing could be comfortable. Another piece of gold seemed to large for his fingers and even his arms. With enough finesse, he finally managed to step into it and slip it snugly around his thigh, almost like a garter. The touch of metal sent a cold arc up his spine.

	Lastly, and what Grant was dreading the most, were the heels. The height of them seemed to be intimidating enough at first, but as he slipped his feet into them, wrapping his ankles around the strap that held them in, he could barely walk upright, feeling his butt become more pronounced than before. Each step made the flesh bounce enticingly, like gelatin. The  thought of having one person seeing him in this was bad enough, but if anyone were to recognize him through all of this, especially Ash, he could curl up into nothing.

	Taking one last look in the mirror, making sure everything was in place, he was surprised at how the wardrobe hid his true identity. The black and purple matched well with one another, and the hints of gold catalyzed his beauty, much to his chagrin. Thankfully, the veils were thick enough to where they skewed his mouth and nose, but even more so his bulging package, which he had to continuously adjust. It made him aware just how tight the outfit hugged his curves, almost wrapping him up into a tight embrace. The circumstances, and whatever possible events that possibly awaited Grant sickened him, but just as he awkwardly turned around, the man was standing straight up, facing him.

	“Good. Now for the last part.” The man reached into his pocket as Grant stared at him in bewilderment.

	“There's still more?!” His tone was a mixture of astonishment and desperation, but the figure refused to answer his worries. Removing his hand, he held out a necklace of sorts. It was a black satin in color, and in the middle of it was a pendent with a purple spider carved into it. “Wait, hold on! A spider?!” Before Grant could protest any further, the man quickly clasped the choker around the boy's neck, marking his attire as completed. Wide-eyed, Grant brought a hand to his neck, feeling the spider's body and legs grabbing at his neck. His mouth hung agape as the man unlocked the door and grabbed ahold of his wrist again, leading him further down the hallway.

	“Now then, Miss Nerco wishes her newest star to debut on center stage today.” His eyes flashed a dead glaze to the stunned male, who struggled to keep the pace in his new footwear. You'd do best to put on a good show. The crowd won't be the only one watching.” Stopping in front of a curtain, the familiar stench of smoke and lust filled Grant's nose as his mind was still trying to register what was happening. Just as his panic-stricken voice found life, any attempt at protest was disrupted as another scantily-clad woman broke through the flaps, drenched in sweat and holding a large amount of bills in the strings of her outfit. Relishing in the calm air, she ran a hand through her dark, braided hair before catching Grant's eye.

	“Well look at you, don't you look like the talk of the town, dear!” Like the woman from before, she had a luscious bronze pigment to her skin, exasperated by how little clothing she had on. Grant was thankful the veil hid his cheeks blazing a deep red as she got closer, examining his hair as her blossoming bosom strayed inches from his face. He could see the evident weight of them as they sloshed about inside a ravishing top with beads cascading from it down her stomach. Sweat beaded down her collar bone into her cleavage, creating a shimmer that allowed them to slip around with ease. “But your hair is a mess! You can't go out there just yet!” Grant's abductor was about to protest before he surveyed the boy and arrived at the same conclusion, nodding silently as the girl strutted over to a table and retrieved a brush. “Now stand still hon, we'll fix that in just a sec!”

	Grant's body ceased under the woman's touch. Holding his chin in her palm, she combed out his wild locks down into a more presentable fashion. His nose caught a whiff of cocoa butter resonating from her, mixed with her sweat. Her face was marked carefully with makeup; her lips and eyes a gorgeous shade of purple that made Grant thankful he didn't have to put any of it on. However, under her touch, he felt his latex bottom grow even tighter than before, primarily in the front. The close proximity of this buxom, shamelessly provocative woman made him helplessly aroused. The pouch storing his manhood expanded, but his growing erection was uncomfortably tight in such a garment. Despite the situation going on blow, bizarrely enough, the boy was becoming lost in the woman's eyes. There was a deep, nurturing tenderness behind the purple shadows, something he longed for at the moment.

	Before he could become more enticed, she touched the bangs covering Grant's eyes, parting them for a moment. His hands suddenly shot up, grasping hers before she could interfere any further.

	“N-No, no please!” He whimpered. The woman raised her brows and pouted, confused, but ultimately didn't prod any further. “I like them the way they are!”

	“Alright, suit yourself, child.” She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, eyeing Grant even harder. His voice didn't seem to register as masculine to her, another feature of Grant's whenever he got nervous, his voice would rise in pitch almost reflexively. “I noticed the pendant you got there, the spider one? It's such an honor to be chosen by the Mistress!” Grant's heart skipped a beat, unsure of what she meant by her words. “Usually you have to work here a while to be picked, but she must see something natural in ya!” The boy was about to question her before the man stepped in between them.

	“Excuse us, she's due on stage any minute now.” His tone was forceful enough to ward off the woman's curiosity. Folding her arms underneath her chest, she backed off.

	“Fine, fine!” Turning on her heel, the woman began to saunter off. “Work that ass, girl! Make them fall in love with ya!” She hollered back, leaving Grant shaken.

	“I'm...I'm not a girl, I'm not a girl!” He was becoming flustered at the constant misunderstanding. “And what did she mean be 'stage?' What did she mean by 'them?!'” The more he tried to make sense of everything going on around him, the less he understood.

	“Don't worry about it.” The man retorted flatly, cracking his neck and peeking through the curtain leading to the stage. “You're almost up. I'd cover up your shame better if I were you, 'girl.'” Grant gasped and looked down at himself; the veil covering up his crotch had a noticeable bulge prodding into it. Crying out in shock, the boy frantically shuffled about, slipping his hand into the sling and trying his best to readjust himself. In the pouch, he felt a growing damp spot where the head of his prick was forced against the fabric, it made him shiver in disgust before the man tapped him on the shoulder for his attention.

	“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow patrons all!” A female voice announced over a loudspeaker in front of the curtain chimed. “Introducing to you all for the very first time this afternoon, the glimmering shard of our city, the shining jewel of the oasis!” The crowd cheered with great frenzy at the announcement. Behind the curtain, Grant stood rigid as he tried to get a peek at what they were cheering for. However, just as he pressed his face against the flaps, a hard smack on his rear caused him to yelp and jump forward onto the sun-baked stage.

	“Get out there!” The man ordered, keeping himself covered by the curtains as the crowd went into an uproar at Grant's entrance.

	The blonde was petrified as he saw the room he was just in earlier all glaring hungrily at him. His pale body became a feast for their sordid perversions, each of them drooling over what could be hidden under the meager fabric that clung to his curves. Looking ahead, a narrow walkway lead to a circular stage with a single pole in the middle, surrounded by the sharks who yearned for him ravenously. His nerves begged desperately for him to run, but he figured with everyone's attention towards him, he wouldn't get far, not in these heels.

	“I...I can't do this!” He stammered, taking a step back. The heels made each motion a chore, and retreat seemed like an impossibility. Before he could backpedal any further, however, the figure from before threw open the curtain, burning with rage with his crop in hand.

	“Move! Get your ass out there!” Without hesitation, the man brought down the leather onto the boy's behind. The sudden sting made the boy's eyes widen in shock and stagger forward. The heels weren't making his movements any easier, but he'd prefer not to get struck. Another step, however, and he fell to his knees. The crowd around him gasped bemusedly as Grant tried to stand back up, but the height of his footwear was preventing him from recovering. Crawling seemed like the best option, but before he could advance any further, another swift hit landed, then another. Grant flinched at the stinging on his rear, which only stirred up the crowd even more.

	Seeing no other option, with tears beginning to well in his eyes, Grant began to crawl towards the pole in the center, trying to not let his eyes dwell towards the nameless faces at his sides, each focused on his struggling.

	“Atta girl, you're almost there!” A man called out from his left.

	“Keep going baby, keep going!” A woman, obviously intoxicated, cheered.

	“Come over here, sweetheart, I got a nice seat for ya!” Grant's eyes were drawn to the source, a large, portly businessman nearby who patted his lap. A large protrusion jutted out from underneath his pants as he licked his lips. The boy gawked in horror and tried to accelerate, thankful that he was almost there. His cheeks had swallowed the fabric meant to amplify his butt, but with the addition of the heels, it was almost unnecessary, he could've just as likely have been naked from the waist down.

	At last, Grant managed to grip the pole at center stage, sending the crowd into another uproar as applause rained down on the heavily blushing boy. Using it as leverage, he managed to get to his feet, but standing up, he felt even smaller than before. The lights blazing down from above cast shadows amongst the crowd, they were all silhouettes against a foggy backdrop that extended into the horizon. His chest heaved as his breathing became labored, he didn't know the first thing about dancing, let alone on a pole. He wasn't sure on where to begin, but the familiar stomping behind him grew louder, averting his attention.

	“Dance, girl!” The man boomed, landing another blow on the blonde's rear. The flesh bounced emphatically, ushering a wave of hollers from the crowd. “I! Said! Dance!” Another resounding smack excited the crowd even further. Some even threw bills onto the stage to keep the performance going as a rhythmic chant began to start.

	“Dance! Dance! Dance!” The faceless bodies repeated with gusto. Grant gripped the pole until his hands were sore, unable to move his hips out of the way to avoid the onslaught. His rear blazed red from the abuse, but it didn't hurt as bad as the shame he felt for how much it was beginning to feel good. His legs began to shake as each strike hit their mark, smacking his flesh around, sending ripples along his succulent skin.

	Bringing his hand up, the man used his entire weight into his last swing. The leather collided with Grant's cheek hard enough to silence the entire crowd from the noise alone. The sensation for the boy, however, was too great as he leaned into the pole, almost collapsing as the metal pressed against his face and torso. His back arched and his mouth fell open as a lustful moan erupted from deep in his throat. His legs and ass shook enticingly, beckoning for more abuse before his mind took back over and he slammed a hand over his mouth. However, the crowd had heard his pitiful wail, erupting into wild storm of cheers as they desired more from him. His meekness only made him more desirable in their eyes, they wouldn't be sated until they saw more.

	Grant tried to steady his breathing, but the sudden outburst had pushed him over the edge. Seeing no other options, he wrapped a leg around the metal pole, shuddering as he felt his own image of himself be tossed into the abyss behind the lights. Pushing off his foot, he began to rotate slowly, his body on display for the entirety of the humanoid shapes.

	Seeing his handiwork take effect, the guard pulled his hood over his head and swiftly exited the stage, leaving Grant at the mercy of the crowd's voracious lust.

	Wishing he had taken more notes on the women dancing when he and Ash came in, Grant cursed his modest nature. With his right leg wrapped around the pole, he stuck out his left, keeping a tight grip with his hands as he spun himself faster. The position tightened his glutes and completely engulfed his thong, but at this point he just wanted this to be over with as fast as possible. Raising his hand, he shifted his weight and tucked the pole into his groin, hoping the cold would dissipate the mass rising once again. Arching his back, he brought himself towards the metal rod, feeling his nipples harden under his top as he crossed his legs, trying to transition gracefully enough. In the movement, he felt the metal corset around his thigh loosen and slip down to his ankle, getting caught on his footwear. Gasping audibly, he stopped immediately and bent down to pull it back up, but a hand from the audience extended towards him, clambering for the accessory. Hesitating slightly, Grant looked from the metal to the ownerless hand and handed it over, watching it disappear into the darkness with a resolving haughty air begin to rise. Immediately, the audience drew closer, their eyes scanning the boy and his attire, all wanting a piece of him.

	Backed against the pole, the blonde tried to quickly return to his routine, but his heels were more for show than utility, clacking against the pole every time he tried to swing his legs around. Lowering himself down slightly, Grant tried to bring his foot around to the other side, but the heel cap clipped the stage, catching him off guard. Luckily, he was able to maintain a grip on the pole and caught himself in time, but he was practically pushing his butt out towards the audience in a lecherous display. Regardless of intention, the audience seemed to enjoy his show, hooting as the boy tried to keep his wits about him. Before he could pick himself back up, he felt a hand go up his backside, grabbing and shaking his butt with vigor, followed by a multitude of whistles from both men and women alike. The fingers were thick and grazed the canyon in between his cheeks, almost grazing his hole, only retreating back when Grant uttered a pathetic cry of panic, their wrist barely colliding with his swollen bulge.

	Quickly turning his head in an attempt to confront the person, all he could see was the formless crowd giddily waiting for him to continue his show. A bead of sweat ran down Grant's face as he tried to ignore the tightness in his loins, but as soon as he peered down, he realized the veil covering his groin was suddenly missing. His nerves wracked with fear for them discovering his actual gender, but their continued applause was apparent enough that they either didn't notice or care. It concerned him how much the crowd was into this, hoping Ash wasn't one of the countless others that packed the room.

	Seizing the pole with both hands, Grant circled the stage in an attempt to gain momentum. Raising his leg, he recalled seeing some dancers in his youth performing a similar move, just not in this fashion. Using the tip of the heel for balance, he arched his back and let his head fall backwards, taking care the veil still held in place. Kicking his other leg out, he was pleased to hear the audience still showing their affection. A few even tossed a number of bills onto the stage, a surprise to the boy who felt his body heat up once more. Pulling himself up, he curled his extended leg around the pole once again and kicked himself up and around the pole as if he was flying. The encouraging cheers emboldened the boy who tried to play it up even more, who carefully removed the cloth from his hand, along with the ring, and cast it off into the audience as he continued spiraling about. The shadows of people amassed where the first glove fell, and as he removed the second one, he made sure to give it an aire of grace, carefully keeping his balance on the pole the entire time; what he lacked in physical strength he made up for in flexibility. However, the shift in balance came too quickly, and Grant once again felt his body falling rapidly.

	Bending backwards, he was able enough to catch himself with his hands, right at the edge of the stage. Upside down, he met eyes with another seedy looking individual. He had lipstick smeared over his mouth and a drink in one hand, with the butt of a girl in the other. Seeing the pause in the show, and the boy's attention on him, he laughed cockily.

	“Ay, you're doing a fine job, love.” He laughed in his thick accent, placing his glass down and approached the boy. Tracing a finger down Grant's stomach, he swiftly hooked a finger into the boy's bra, who could only gasp as his chest became momentarily exposed to the air. Curling up quickly, Grant's arms went to covering his bust, but all he could feel was naked skin. Clutching his arms, he tried to turn back around to beg for his clothing back, but once again his heels made any sudden movements on the floor troublesome.

	The crowd was growing much more ravenous, with barely any clothes left, Grant felt compelled to finish, but at the rate things were going, he was going to end up with nothing left on him. What made matters worse were despite the vile and sleaze surrounding him, he could deny how aroused he was becoming. His groin was alight in pleasure as the pressure from his muffled erection against the fabric was making his legs wobble. He could feel his sack desperately trying to slip out from the clothing; he knew he needed to wrap this up quick before anything else of his got exposed.

	Throwing caution to the wind, Grant gripped the pole once more, trying to pacify his trembling as he began to pick up speed. His bare chest and bulge didn't seem to bother the crowd, they were more focused on his curves that dripped with sweat and eroticism. Once he attained enough speed, the blonde kicked his leg up in the air, bringing it parallel with the bar as he stood on the tip of his other heel, spiraling around the pole at a blazing speed as sweat was scattered about, his argent body glistening in the hot rays. The crowd roared emphatically, seeing the dancer finally getting into the routine. Even more bills were tossed onto the stage in hope for a grand finale. Holding his leg to the pole, Grant couldn't help but feel a sense of pride earning such a response from the audience, it was a wondrous sensation that he could get such an uprising out of these people, regardless of their levels of intoxication. Taking a deep breath, and feeling his inhibitions lower, he dropped his head backwards and continued his spin, letting his hand dangle behind him to flaunt his elegance.

	Finally, with the crowd at their peak, the boy began to slow down, keeping his balance poised, he stood on the tips of his foot, his legs as straight as the pole itself. Finishing with such an indecent pose was meant to be a jab at the audience, but the audacity and exposure of his most private parts, as well as the audience's admiration for it, only aroused him further. He could feel the latex strain against his package, barely able to conceal his excitement as the damp stickiness inside of it only grew.

	The audience cheered uproariously, tossing crumpled up bills and coins onto the stage as Grant tried to catch his breath. His skin was gleaming with how worked up he got as he ran a hand through his matted hair. Breathing a sigh of relief, he suddenly looked concerned as his hands went to cup his face; his veil, the last border between him and the crowd, was missing. His eyes widened as he looked around panic-stricken for the dainty, purple cloth, but it was nowhere to be seen, devoured by the crowd just as the rest of his attire was. Feeling himself exposed to the world, and the lights blaring down on his vulnerability, Grant wrapped his arms around himself and retreated towards the curtain behind him, ignoring the money and prophylactics thrown his way as he brushed past the curtain towards backstage.

	The audience appeared let down by the sudden departure of the oasis's latest idol, but their moods only slightly faltered before the next wave of entertainment arrived and the room was once again filled with sordid gluttony. Up above in her balcony, Nerco glimpsed at the crowd below and let her eyes falter, enjoying the view of the latest performer's behind bounce as they ran away. At her side was the same man who had assisted in bringing out the boy. He sighed disappointingly as he cracked his neck once again.

	“Would you like me to bring him to you now, Mistress?” He asked deadpanned. The woman tapped her cheek with her finger and mused the thought for a second, standing up and letting her gray skin meet the stray lights cast off by the stage.

	“No...no I think I can take care of this myself, you've done well enough thus far, Azimuth.” The man bowed graciously and stood aside as the woman strode towards the exit to her booth. “Do make sure you do away with his clothes, he certainly won't have a need for them anymore.”

	“At once, Mistress, anything else?” Nerco hesitated at the doorway, mulling over the question before snapping her fingers.

	“Bring my champion to my quarters, he will certainly be required for what I have in store for our newest jewel.” She slipped her fingers together and breathed in deeply, smiling warmly at the ceiling. “I certainly do know how to pick them, don't I?”

	“Only the finest, Mistress.” Azimuth replied as the necromancer left the room, her heels clacking on the floor as she strutted off.

	On the main floor, Grant quickly rushed back to the dressing room, fearing he might run into anybody else. Tears began to well in his eyes, rendering his vision blurry as he managed to retain his balance along the way. The entire ordeal was beginning to get to him, and after revealing his face, he hoped to sneak out without any further trauma. His ankles hurt from the heels, slowing his pace while walking past a group of chatting women, each dressed up like the ones from before. Instinctively, Grant covered his chest and kept his head low, hoping now to attract their attention or any further unwarranted touching. Once he was back in his usual clothes, he could find his way out and alert Ash of Nerco's whereabouts.

	Once at the door to the dressing room from before, the boy flung it open and proceeded towards the bench. Feeling the day's fatigue beginning to get to him, he groaned audibly and sat down, finally able to kick off the shoes that had been plaguing him. Reaching for the chest with his clothes, he noticed how it was already open, and concernedly empty. His heart stopped for a moment as he froze in place, his mind momentarily lapsing in processing what was happening.

	“Where-?! Where are my things? My clothes!?” Seeing his mindless questioning was fruitless, he tossed the container aside and began frantically looking around the small room for any other hiding spot his clothes might've ended up. “I can't go out like this!” Darting his eyes around the room, his gaze fell upon himself in the mirror, his face wrought with fright as he looked at himself with severe distaste, namely towards the spider choker still draped around his neck – the one thing he didn't mind losing. Gripping the apparel, he tugged hard, but it held fast, much to his surprise. Tugging even harder, it felt to be holding his throat even tighter, cutting off his air supply. Gasping for breath, he swore under his breath, cursing his luck. “You stupid thing, get off me!”

	“You sure? It's a good look for you!” A female's voice broke through Grant's panic, catching him off-guard as he remembered he hadn't locked the door behind him. Before he could pick his head up and see who it was, his eyelids felt suddenly heavy, and his mind slipping into unconsciousness. He hit the floor as his body became unresponsive. The last thing he was able to recall was the clacking of heels on the stone floor, and the face of a woman peering over his vulnerable state, her skin like ash, and a smile that could freeze magma.

	Feeling the sensation of soft felt underneath him, Grant stirred from his drowsiness. His head was still groggy from the sudden slumber, he tried to move only to realize he had been moved, and outfitted with the same attire he had on before. Grunting as he tried to open his eyes, he was met with the same voice that preceded him passing out.

	“Well look who's up!” She exclaimed, bemused. As feeling seeped into the rest of his body, Grant was able to muster up enough strength to push himself up and shake away the rest of the fog obscuring his vision. He was in a different room, much larger than his dressing room, and lying on a couch. However, the figure in front of him, the woman from before, seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he had pictured her. Immediately, Grant's heart sank into his stomach as his memory came flooding back to him. The wile demeanor, the white hair, the gray skin, the red marking on her right eye, it all added up into the only person that could hold all of those traits.

	“N-N-Nerco...!” He could only mutter, feeling his muscles tense up to the point of aching. His pulse raised until he could feel his ribs struggling to keep it his heart from bursting out. Sweat beaded down his brow as hot flashes assaulted him. His hands gripped the plush cushion on the couch he was sitting on, but nothing in his line of sight could be used to protect himself from the necromancer. “What are you...doing here?!”

	“What am I doing here? Darling, I should be asking you that!” She scoffed, laughing mockingly at his situation. “And in that attire no less! People will start spreading rumors if they catch you running about in such indecent wear!” Grant realized he had become used to the stripper attire he was made to put on, and forgot to cover himself in the presence of others. Blushing heavily, he covered himself quickly, but the woman merely tutted and stood up, wagging her finger at him. “Now now child, there's no need to cover up such a...shapely physique...” She clicked her teeth against one of her nails, eyeing him sultrily. “It'd be such a shame for it to go to waste, hiding underneath all that drab you were wearing before.”

	“Y-! So you were the one who took my clothes!”Grant glared at her incredulously, pausing before continuing. “Give them back!” Nerco giggled behind her palm before cocking her head, resting it against her knuckles. He knew that without Ash, his chances of fighting her off were slim, but he needed to try, or at least buy some time. She appeared to take his demand as idle chatter, shifting carelessly on the balls of her feet. “I'm-! I'm serious!” Nerco broke into another fit of laughter as she bent forward, almost brushing the boy's face with her nose.

	“Oh, but won't you dance for me just once, dear? I saw your performance earlier and I just had to bring you here to perform in person!” She spun around, swooning dramatically as she sat down next to the blonde. “I found it...so alluring.” She reached an arm around the boy and pulled him in close, pressing her breasts against his arm. He could feel the supple flesh being pressed against him underneath her robe; it was clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Seeing his body grow rigid once again brought a smirk to her lips as she leaned in closer, lowering her lips to his ear. “Won't you dance for me?”

	“I...I should...I should go now!” Grant replied, awkwardly trying to kick the heels off in an attempt to hasten his escape. However, his attempts at slipping off the footwear proved fruitless, holding fast to his soles as if the two were bonded together. “Wha-what the?!” Next he tried to pry off the gloves and  metal garter, but those also refused to budge. His eyes twitched as he desperately tried to shed the attire, but everything seemed fastened to his body, stubbornly entrenching him in this seedy persona.

	“Oh dear, you're not going anywhere...” Suddenly, as if in a daze, Grant's heart fluttered as Nerco lifted him up from the couch, her sweet voice filling his ears. On the right side of the room, past the corner where the couch was pushed again, was another dancer's pole constructed on top of a platform one could step onto. Even with the elevated heels he moved effortlessly towards the pole, stepping onto the platform with little coercion other than her breath on his neck. Once she stepped away and took a seat near him, however, his senses retook control, alerting him to what he was getting himself into.

	“W-Wait-what did you do?!” He shifted awkwardly on the smaller stage, stepping behind the pole as if it would hide his shameful appearance. An amused chuckle arose out of Nerco as she sat back in her chair, folding her leg over the other.

	“I merely reacquainted you to a place you're more familiar with!” The necromancer jabbed, her tone still mockingly soft. “Now then, move that butt of yours around some, like you did before!”

	Grant held steady for a moment, unsure on how to proceed. He knew she was toying with him, but for a purpose he had little knowledge of. If all she wanted was a dance, he figured satisfying her curiosity would be enough to gain his freedom. However, without the spotlights obscuring her face, he could see her piercing, purple eyes looking up not at him, but through his meager clothes, at his naked self. She could already see what she wanted, but she pursued further, wanting to see him in motion.

	Slowly, the boy shifted his hips to the sides, holding the pole steady as he tried to focus away from the only other person in the room. He was regretfully beginning to learn how to move fluidly with the tall footwear on, another reason he needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

	“Come on, put some more shake into it!” Nerco called, leaning forward. Grant flinched, but tried to appease her request, rotating around the pole as he tried to gyrate his hips, thrusting his butt out for her amusement. “There we go! Look at you go!” His face heated up once again; he was certain the veil wasn't enough to hide his embarrassment from the likes of her. “Now swing your legs around some!”

	Reluctantly, he hooked the back of his leg around the pole, twirling in a clockwise fashion as he used his other leg for leverage. The momentum kept him spinning around as he tried to think up another move to impress her. Using his finesse, he gained some height on the pole while still being able to rotate. Keeping the pressure his legs had around the rod steady, he tilted backwards, curving his back to where he was now upside down. Finally, he was able to grab hold of the pole underneath his leg, resembling a bow as he held the pose in place. Hearing a surprised gasp from the woman upon completion, he opened his eyes to see how she looked.

	Sitting with her legs widened, Nerco was openly groping her breasts, keeping her hands over her robes. Catching eye contact, she laugh dubiously as he awed too shocked to respond.

	“Don't mind me, dear! Keep going!” She said, fumbling with her right mound, tugging the tip to where Grant could've sworn he saw the indentation of her swollen bud. The sight caused him to fall backwards, earning him another round of mocking laughter. “Well not like that!” Quickly stumbling to his feet, he observed her still idly playing with her chest, as if what she was doing was nothing out of the ordinary. Her expression turned to one of irritation as he became even meeker than before. “What are you waiting for? Continue.”

	“W-Why are you doing that?” He muttered, motioning towards her. She paused and looked down at her chest, cupping it in her hands as she heaved them up. “Doing that to your...your...”

	“What? You mean my breasts, child?” She perched an eyebrow as she continued. “They're of no importance to you, what does it matter what I'm doing?” Dropping her tone, she adapted a more serious nature. “Does it...bother you that I'm doing this?” Before he could even respond, she receded her posture, still playing with herself. “Well too bad, you've still yet to satisfy my interests. Now, carry on. Do that one where you raise you leg up,” The woman slowly dragged her tongue along her lips, accentuating their shape. “I rather liked that one.”

	Grant felt like he was being cornered in a cage by a savage predator, pushing him back further and further until there was nowhere else for him to go. He knew he needed to resist somehow, he needed to run, Feeling a surge of resilience, he circled around the pole again, looking for any sign of an exit. Right away he saw a door only a few yards away next to a statue. He figured if he could make a shot for it, using the platform between them as leverage, he could make it out without her touching him or using anymore of her magic.

	Acting as natural as possible, he took a few more steps, pretending to spin into another routine. He knew he only had one shot at this, and he needed to make it count.

	Without warning, he bolted for the doorway, keeping his body low in order to avoid any sudden response from the necromancer calling after him. Hearing her chair hit the floor hard, he had just felt the cold metal of the doorknob grace his fingertips before his entire body was stopped short.

	Appalled that he could no longer move, Grant struggled at the sudden hold he found himself in, pressing with as much force his body could manage, but it proved fruitless against the hold he was now in. Straining to peer over his shoulder at the source of his new captivity, he realized it was the thing he had casually glanced past before. It wasn't a statue, it was a moving creature that held him firmly in his grip, an undead creation of Nerco's design – formidable and hulking.

	“You sniveling brat!” She hissed, marching over to the boy who was still stunned at the sudden turn of events. “You thought you had even the slightest chance of escaping?!” She snapped her fingers and the creature turned him around, facing the enraged woman. She pinched his face between her fingers, furrowing her brow in contempt. “A boy like you has no right coming up with plans like that! No, no, we'll need to whittle away any false hopes you're still clinging to.” Strutting back over to her chair, she propped it back up, then waved the hulking statue towards her. “Champion, come!” At her call, the goliath came to her side, the boy still in its grip, struggling to pry himself free.

	“Gah-! I'm-I'm sorry! I'll do the dance, just let me go! I'll do the dance!” Grant pleaded, his voice falling on deaf ears as Nerco retrieved a box situated on a nearby shelf.

	“Champion, hold him out.” Spinning him back around, the monster opened its palm, allowing Grant a chance to breath freely. However, he still found himself unable to move, much to his bolstered confusion.

	“Wha-? Why can't I move? What are you doing?!” His voice got more desperate as a glowing blue light wrapped around his body, holding him still. Holding her hand out, Nerco was silently mouthing out a spell, only finishing as her eyes flashed brilliantly, ensuring Grant could no longer flee.

	“I'm just making sure you're comfortable, little one.” She said, her robe parting subtly, hinting the supple body underneath. “Before I shatter your will.” Digging through a nearby chest, she retrieved a cut of cloth and wrapped it tightly around the boy's eyes, effectively blinding him. Any attempt at voicing his concerns was immediately shutdown as she brought forth a ballgag from the same container; only his muffled cries could break through the sex toy. With a last look through the contents, she grinned mischievously as she armed herself with a crop, sauntering over to the helpless lad, her lips puckered as she cradled his chin in her palm. “So helpless, so pitiful looking. You'll make a fine entertainer once you've accepted your place.”

	Grant's eyebrows slanted in confusion and concern, but the gag made it so all he could do voice his responses with shapeless moans. Standing up tall, she took her time in letting the boy writhe in tormented fear, letting him wait for what she had in store. Only the sound of her heels clicking on the floor filled his ears, imitating his racing heart as he continued to struggle loose. Seeing resistance, Nerco brought down her anger onto his rear, slapping the flesh with the flat end of her weapon. Grant's head shot up and a surprised shriek whistled through the gag before it fell back down, eliciting a wicked snarl to spread the necromancer's lips.

	“Not a bit of hair on you; you're more woman than man from the looks of it.” Striking his ass again, she made sure to place her attacks on the thickest part of the flesh, delighting in the ripples it spread across the immediate area, as well as the red marks that were beginning to show. “From how you danced earlier, I wouldn't be surprised you were of that nature, a little minx fretting for the attention of others.” She reached out and grabbed a handful of flesh, feeling it give way in between her fingers. Grant's head shook back and forth in defiance, his cheeks a cherry hue as she continued to feel him up. “Such a depraved body, no wonder you were such a delight earlier.” She brought her hand down and slapped his ass, earning her another cry as he tried to squeeze his glutes in response. However, her assault continued as she repeatedly swatted the plump skin until hand-marks appeared, spewing retorts and insults the entire time. “A horny little minx like yourself has no use other than to serve with your body! Do you know how many men in here would love to get their hands on you? Do you know what they'd love to do to a girl like you?” Pushing her nails into one of the cheeks, Grant's head picked up once again, shrieking against the thoughts she tried to place in his mind. Drool ebbed down the gag as he could no longer close his mouth, the sensations becoming too much for him to bear.

	Bending over, catching his head before he could rest it back down, Nerco brought her lips to his ear once more.

	“I'd hate for something unfortunate to happen to you...” Her voice was dripping with a sweet, potent venom. “If that mob outside were to find you bound up like this, who knows what you'd go through!” Grant cried out pathetically, kicking his feet in desperation. “They'd rut you like a bitch.” Slipping her fingers into the thong squeezing his pelvis, she tugged hard, slipping it even further between his cheeks, shocking the boy as his muscles tensed up. “If you were to become my eternal dancer, however, I'd make sure you'd want for nothing.” Pulling back the folds of her robe, she rubbed her bare cleavage against Grant's shoulder, adding insult to injury as she pulled even tighter on his underwear. “I'd make you feel welcome, you'd have a place in my world as a devoted servant.”

	Finally, her grip on his thong released, allowing Grant to try and catch his breath. However, Nerco's merciless nature appeared once again. Continuing her focus on his rear, she pushed her thumbs between his cheeks, spreading the meat and marveling at what she found underneath, despite the boy becoming louder than ever in his shrieks.

	“Oh my,” She murmured, eyeing the bulge nestled between his luscious thighs. “For a girl, you certainly have a cute little package down here. Must be so uncomfortable being cooped up like that.” His cock throbbed as she felt Grant's pulse under her grip, leaking a bead of clear liquid that leaked through the garment. She uttered a startled gasp as she let go, swiftly returning to her irritated state. “Who said you could get off to this, you little perverted harlot!” Gripping the crop even tighter, she smacked his ass again, no longer waiting for the boy to recover between strikes as her attacks grew quicker and more relentless. The impacts echoes throughout the room, drowning out Grant's cries that soon turned into pained moans of repressed passion. Despite Nerco's scolding, the attention to his erogenous zone proved too much for the blonde as his entire body shook dramatically, enough to even make the woman conclude her attacks.

	Loud wails of lust erupted from Grant as his orgasm passed through, unable to obtain any further stimulation, he attempted to lengthen the euphoria by grinding his hips against the undead's hand holding him up. Seeing his attempts to pleasure himself, Nerco's rage boiled over.

	“Flip him over!” She boomed. Immediately, her Champion turned the boy onto his back, his body still on edge as his orgasm quickly subsided. However, over his crotch, where his bulge stuck out prominently, a white fluid oozed out of the tip, coating his lap with the sticky substance. Nerco gawked at the sight and took immediate action. “That's it!” Grabbing the underwear, she pulled it down roughly to his knees, exposing his still swollen erection and sack, finally able to greet the open air. His shaft bobbed loftily as she held it up, grimacing as leftover cum began to spew forth. “A good girl never cums unless she's allowed to!” She remarked, pointing a finger at the underside of his shaft. Out of thin air, a thin, black ribbon spawned and made a knot around his cock. Grant grunted concernedly, as Nerco let his member go, throwing one last look at his sack before standing back up. “That should prevent anymore unfortunate 'accidents.'”

	Tightening her robe around her figure, Nerco huffed a sigh and began to make her way towards the door.

	“Champion, come. Bring the girl too, she will learn how to properly behave herself soon enough.” Silently, her minion followed her stride, stepping through the doorway as a weary Grant was thrown over its shoulder.

	In the hall, the amorphous hum of a crowd drew ever closer. Still bound and unable to see, Grant could only hear the looming voices grow. His thong was stilled draped around his knees, and his body on display to the entire world. Kicking violently against the minion's unyielding strength, his moans were now a more pleading nature, but were ignored as Nerco kept her pace.

	“Now now, dear. My carriage is outside, and you'll be able to say goodbye to your adoring fans this way!” She said delightfully. Suddenly, the cloth obscuring Grant's vision came loose, daintily falling to the floor as he immediately began to realize the depths of Nerco's cruelty. The hallway was the one he had been escorted down before, leading directly to the door opening into the club, as well as the horde of sleazy patrons who would immediately recognize his attire from his latest performance.

	The immense pressure on his chest as he heard the doorknob click open erupted into a maelstrom of torment as Nerco summoned the attention of everyone in the room. As soon as Grant appeared, the air turned wild as the mob swarmed around him, gliding their callused, sticky hands along his smooth legs, sliding into his ass, almost slipping into his puckered hole; their sweaty, heaving faces pushed up against his own, caressing his tear-streaked cheeks. Men and women alike gawked in awe at the set of testicles that swayed with every step Nerco's minion took.

	“It's the Jewel of the Oasis! The Jewel!”

	“Is that a cock?! She's a guy!?”

	“That body though...could be one of those types of dancers.”

	“Oh my gosh, what a tramp! He's leaking cum everywhere!”

	The words invaded Grant's mind, who tried to shake himself awake from this nightmare. The mocking laughter built until they broke through the mob, reaching the entrance to the club. The people left in their wake waved goodbye jokingly, snickering amongst themselves at his misfortune. One rotund figure in particular came up from behind as the Champion knelt down to fit through the exit, pulling down Grant's gag and planting a kiss on his lips. Grant's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt the man's tongue enter his mouth, slathering his teeth with his saliva before pulling away. A strand of drool fell over his tainted lips as he could no longer form coherent thoughts. Feeling the warm sun greet his pale body, Nerco beamed as her carriage pulled up in front of them.

	“There we are! I hope our departure wasn't too much for you, dear?” She snided, peering behind her minion at her almost unconscious prisoner, his eyes glazing over with a milky glaze. “Aww, don't you worry, you'll see them again soon enough!” She instructed the undead creature to lower Grant into the carriage before she herself stepped in. “Along with your little female friend as well...” As the wheels of the cart began to turn, kicking up a cloud of dust trailing behind them, Grant picked himself up, watching helplessly as the club became further and further away. Everyone that saw him failed to interfere with his plight, dashing away any fleeting hope that he could escape from his new fate.

...

	Grant's new life in Nerco's possession soon became filled with rigorous training exercises in how to appease her and the company she kept. Insisting on wearing his dancing costume at all times in case for 'impromptu entertainment' as she put it, Grant soon adapted the wardrobe as his everyday attire. With an emphasis on chastity, he was to no longer thing of his own pleasures during sessions where she disciplined him thoroughly, finding fulfillment as she marveled at his package while she ground her crotch against his face. Over time, the bow around his cock was removed; his member would become engorged, and occasionally even leak precum, usually through his dancing or under the touch of one of Nerco's many guests, but that was how the necromancer preferred it -  it was a testament of his faith to her.

	One incident in particular, however, proved how dedicated Nerco was in keeping her property. Grant had it in his mind to attempt escape a second time. Becoming adapted to his heels through constant wear, he learned how to freely move about in them. On a particular day when he found himself alone, another example of Nerco's trust, he made the mistake of trying to jump out a window. The glass doors opening out, however, were meant to only be used by Nerco and her staff. As a pet, he was to never try and go beyond his duties, and found himself frozen in place through a hex. Once Nerco figured out his deceit, she had to make an example out of him. Conjuring a piece of paper, she wrote down markings on the parchment, and laid it along Grant's hindquarters. Reciting another spell, the paper burned away, and the mark on it singed into his flesh. As the particles dissipated, the symbols were permanently marked into his skin, forever declaring his status as a material good.

	However, he also found life under Nerco's ownership to come with benefits. He was properly cared for throughout his days, constantly at his mistress's side, and attended to by the many servants and minions the woman had under her command. The gorgeous dancers educated him on moves he could incorporate into his routine, and before long they accepted him as one of their own. When he wasn't entertaining clients, he was brought with Nerco to advertise himself around town, shopping at the bazaars for new clothing materials or enticing the local populace with his sultry looks, giggling as stray hands couldn't help but find their way up his plush bottom. His mistress allowed the petting, but only to an extent, interfering if someone unsavory got too friendly.

	For his devotion, Grant earned himself his mistress's affection. She showered him with love and appraisal for his dedication, and eventually, he returned those feelings. He would use his body to appease her whims and relieve her stress, and when the mood struck her, she did the same. She would allow him to touch her body, using his mouth or her hands to bring the other to ecstasy, before her pet returned to her side. She found his resilient sexual drive as endearing, and watching him arouse himself through each performance riled her own sense of lust as well.

	Whenever a client went to Nerco asking for her “Crown Jewel,” the necromancer smiled sincerely and brought her out with pride. Crowds piled in like never before in order to see the Oasis's radiant daughter dance for their viewing pleasure, knowing she loved the attention just as much as they did.