AN/Important Spoilers: This fic is plot with a *lot* of porn. I have tagged it dubon because even though Kurt agrees to the job he is going to end up doing things he doesn't really want to do because he is backed into a corner. Also, I tagged noncon, because while I have the main outline for this story created I'm not sure how far I'll take it. Also not sure what Glee characters will show up. I listed ones I feel pretty confident about and will add others if needed.

Notes:

I have no idea if there will be any interest in the story at all, but if there is I would love to have input from my readers on things they would like to see. My ideal situation would be if this became a somewhat structured "choose your own adventure" type of thing.
Also, warning, any Glee character that shows up (besides Kurt and Blaine) could end up being fairly evil. So hang on tight for that!
(additional warnings to be added as we go!)

With all that in mind, let me know what you think of the story/and or any characters you'd like to see and porn prompts you have!


Kurt's stomach twisted as he stood outside the red painted door of the otherwise nondescript brick building. It was a story below street level the stairway taking you down made of stone and iron. If you didn't know the establishment was there, you'd pass right by without ever giving it notice. He took in a long deep breath and then rapped his knuckles against the door. A small metal peep window slid open to reveal a pair of green eyes with smudged black eyeliner.

"Password." A rough male voice called from behind the door.

"Gustav Dentzel." Kurt answered his voice coming out rough and whispered. The man behind the door continued to watch him. " Gustav Dentzel." Kurt repeated louder and the peep window slammed shut. Kurt stood on the stoop rubbing a hand nervously up and down his arm until the door swung open.

"Come in."

Kurt walked in the building and the heavy door shut behind him with a loud bang that made Kurt start. The man was middle aged, wearing tight fitting black leather pants, a black leather vest, and nothing else. The outfit was a little on the nose for Kurt's taste, but he wasn't sure what else he expected.

The man slowly looked Kurt up and down with a smirk, biting his lip as if not only leering at Kurt be ready and willing to taste him. "Here to apply for the Carousel, huh?" He said finally meeting Kurt's eyes. "Aren't you a pretty one. The boss will be pleased."

Kurt lifted his chin and stood up tall, not willing to let this man see how intimidated he felt. "I haven't signed on yet. We'll see if I'm pleased with the boss."

The man barked out a sharp laugh and then started down a long hallway, the walls painted green and the lightning spotty. Krt could only assume he was meant to follow him. At the end of a long bare hallway was a slick black door, the man pushed it open and Kurt immediately made out the soft sound of music, classical music. As soon as he stepped through the doorway the whole atmosphere of the place changed. What Kurt had assumed was a dank seedy business turned out to be well maintained, impeccably decorated expensive looking establishment.

The walls were wood paneled and the carpet deep and plush. Urt found himself in another hallway perpendicular to the one they just left. Kurt could tell the music was coming from a room to the right, but the man turned the opposite direction leading Kurt onwards. These walls were covered with large, tasteful black and white photographs of young men in various stages of undress and there were servel closed doors along the way The man stopped at one of these doors, the same wood as the walls, and knocked.

A voice called for them to enter and Kurt again blindly followed the man forward into a upscale office, thick curtains over what had to be a fake window since they were below ground, bookshelves on one wall, more nearly nude art on the other, and a a sleek marble desk in the center. A nicely dress man looking to be in his early fifties sat behind the desk, salt and pepper hair and a boyish face.

"Sir." Kurt's escort spoke up. "This is the new pony you were expecting."

The man smiled and stood from the desk walking to Kurt with an outstretched hand. "Ah yes, Mr. Williams' friend, correct?"

The man had a firm handshake and a pleasant smile. If this was the boss Kurt felt he could relax a little.

"Yes. Kurt Hummel. Tyler Williams recommended you to me."

"He highly recommended you as well." He glanced at the man who'd brought Kurt here. "Thank you Baloo, you may return to your post."

Baloo nodded and quickly turned to the door giving Kurt a quick wink as he left.

"Please, Mr. Hummel, have a seat." He indicated the rich wood and red leather chair in front of his desk. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Um… no." Kurt licked his lips, his throat was dry but he was too nervous to ask for anything. "Thank you."

"Mmm." The man hummed and opened a panel in the wall revealing a mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, placing it on the desk in from of Kurt. "In case you change your mind." He walked gracefully, and with slightly feminine movements to sit back behind the desk where he immediately leaned back, steepling his fingers and watching Kurt intently.

Kurt squirmed in his chair as the silence in the room grew uncomfortable. "You.. um… never told me your name." Kurt said taking the water bottle, unscrewing the top, and taking a quick drink just for something to do.

"You can call me Mr. Osiris. I run Pantone."

"Osiris? As in the Egyptian god of the dead?"

The man laughed, "No no… that is a misconception. He was just the god of the underworld."

"Oh." Kurt nodded not sure if that was much better.

"You're intelligent." Mr. Osiris sat up straight leaning forward intently, "You have a lovely speaking voice. And… how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Ah, what a sweet age. You could pass for younger though. I can work with that. And best of all… you are quite exquisite ." Mr. Osiris eyes flitted over Kurt quickly as he spoke as if learning more about Kurt than he was actually saying. The relative calm Kurt felt when first meeting this man was wearing off. He made Kurt anxious.

"I'm not-" Kurt stopped himself, this wasn't the time to undersell himself. He needed to accept the compliment. "Thank you," Kurt said, his cheeks feeling warm with the way Mr. Osiris was still looking at him.

"Do you want to work for Pantone?" He asked suddenly, "Because I must say you seem more… innocent... than most of the young men who walk through these doors. Not that I can't sell that." A dark smile spread over his face, "Yes, I can sell that. But I'm not looking for a naive little boy that doesn't know what he is getting himself into."

"I'm not naive. I know what this is."

"What is it?" The man leaned back, an amused smirk on his lips.

"It's a brothel."

Mr. Osiris lifted a brow.

"You rent men out for sex."

"Yes. That's true. But Pantone isn't any old whorehouse. Our customers are elite, wealthy, extremely private and extremely discerning. Tell me, why would the high-class gentlemen we cater to want you? Why should I hire an inexperienced boy I've never heard of before this week for a position I have trained escorts begging even be considered for?"

"I…" Kurt opened and closed his mouth his heart beating fast, not knowing how to answer that.

"Why not let you get a little experience on the streets first? I know a pimp or too I could recommend." Mr. Osiris waved his hand dismissively as if even talking to a potential streetwalker was below him.

"No." Kurt said quickly sitting up in his chair. Kurt couldn't do that, he wouldn't do that. Yes, he needed money, a lot of it and fast, but he could only consider doing… this if he was somewhere safe and upscale and… he didn't want to do it at all, but he wasn't going to just stand on a street corner and sell himself. "No." Kurt repeated trying to sound calm while putting his thoughts together as fast as he could. "You want me."

"Why? Mr. Williams… you know him from where, a part-time job?"

"Tyler and I are baristas together."

"Yes, fine. Mr. Williams has done some great recruitment work for me, but I don't hire someone based solely on his recommendation. Tell me why would I want some young inexperienced novice?"

"Because I am young and inexperienced," Kurt answered quickly. "I mean, I'm not a virgin, I know how things work, but could you find a streetwalker who seemed naive? Could you hire a professional escort at, what did you call it? Such a sweet age who comes knowing what they are getting into but who still a little green? Don't you think that is something your discerning clients might like?"

Mr. Osiris watched Kurt carefully. "In this business, you won't stay green long."

"Yes, that's true." Kurt leaned back in his chair hoping his background in the theater would help him come off as cool and casual. "But I'll still be exquisite," Kurt smiled with much more confidence than he actually felt. "And you can sell that."

Mr. Osiris was silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. "Oh yes, Mr. Williams was right about you. Young, but sharp. And a fast learner I see."

"And eager to start," Kurt said, even though his stomach twisted and he felt a little sick.

"Yes. yes, I can see that." Mr. Osiris slid open the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. "Here is the standard contract. What we do, what you do. Promises to be kept by both sides. Us ensuring your safety and physical health, you agreeing to the sexual favors and the behavior your employment will necessitate. And of course the money. It is a distasteful thing to discuss, but I assume it is the reason you're here in the first place. Look over the contract in your own time. Baloo can give you a quick tour before you leave. You do need to sign a nondisclosure before you go whether or not you decide to join us, but otherwise… it is up to you. Think about it. Come back only if you are sure."

Mr. Osiris handed Kurt the contract and stood from the desk, walking to the door and Kurt was quick to get up and follow him.

"I'm a very busy man Mr. Hummel, but I do hope to see you again." With that, he opened the door and Kurt found himself alone back in the richly decorated hallway feeling stunned and a little apprehensive.

That wasn't at all what he'd expected. It wasn't an interview at all. In fact, it felt like "Mr. Osiris" - Kurt was sure that wasn't his real name - had decided on Kurt before they even began talking. Kurt hadn't even been able to ask any questions! He looked down at the contract in his hands, hands which were trembling slightly, he supposed most of what he needed to know would be in these papers.

"Ready?"

Kurt startled and looked up to see Baloo who he hadn't even heard approach.

"He… he said I could have a tour?"

"That's why I'm here. Come on pony."

Baloo started down the hallway his tight leather pants squeaking slightly as he walked. Baloo really didn't fit in with the finery here. Kurt followed him to the opposite end of the hall passing more doors on the way. The music from earlier was coming from the last closed door in the hallway.

Baloo placed his hand against the door and turned to smile at Kurt. "Welcome to the Carousel."

He pushed open the door and Kurt was struck with cool air from an AC on full blast and the scent of jasmine. The music he heard before was louder and it seemed to be classical music, but mixed with some kind of hypnotic beat, Kurt felt like his pulse was in rhythm with it. As they walked in and the door shut behind them Kurt found himself in a large drawing room. Plush furniture, bar carts, more erotic photos on the walls - but the most glaring thing about the room was that all the furniture faced a wall completely made of glass. So immaculately clean that it almost looked like you could walk through it.

Kurt walked up to the glass looking at the room on the other side. It was another kind of sitting area, the furniture obviously expensive but simpler and more modern, and there were no bar carts or artwork.

"That's it," Baloo nodded to the room opposite them.

"That's what?" Kurt looked back and forth from one empty room to another.

"The clients are in this room, that's one-way glass so they can look but can't be seen. And on the other side of the glass…"

"Is the merchandise." Kurt guessed with a grimace.

"The ponys."

"Why do you call them that?" Kurt asked turning away from the display room with a shiver.

"Men come to the Carousel for a ride."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Nice."

Baloo shrugged, "There are worse things to be called."

Kurt nodded, looking down to the contract in his hands, his stomach twisting. "What are in the other rooms, all the other doors we pasted?"

Baloo shook his head, "Pantone offers many services. We are looking to hire another pony, that is what you're applying for. You don't need to know about the rest."

"I do if I want to know what kind of man I would be working for."

Baloo gave Kurt a hard long look, "I think you already know what kind of man he is."

Kurt's throat was tight and his chest hurt. "I need to go. I should… go."

"Sure. Sure kid. First, sign this. It just says you don't talk about Pantone even if you don't take the job."

Kurt read over the nondisclosure and signed, ready to get out of this place.

Baloo folded the paper stuck it in a pocket of his vest and then lead the way back out to the front door.

"If you want the job, and damn does it pay well... if I was young and spry again…" Baloo sighed, "If you want it, act fast. Openings here don't last long."

"Right. Got it." Kurt said as Baloo opened the front door and let Kurt out.

Soon Kurt was back on the street, the fresh air cooling his too hot cheeks and the contract in his hands feeling as heavy as a stone. He wasn't going to do this, he couldn't really do this, right?

He got back home and made dinner, that he felt too nervous to eat much of. He flipped through the TV for a few minutes but wasn't able to pay attention. Finally, he went back to his bedroom where he'd left the contract and started reading through it.

It seemed that Pantone was rigorous about protection, and screening, making sure their clients and employees were in the best of health. That was a relief. It also seemed the rules for employees were very strict, basically, you did what your manager said, no questions asked. Kurt wondered who the manager of the Carousel was and wished he'd met him.

Then Kurt read the four-page list of duties he might be called upon to perform depending on the client's wants. He had to stop and google some of the terms because he hadn't heard of them before. By the end of those pages, Kurt was nauseated and shaky. No. This was stupid. He wasn't going to do it.

Kurt got up and paced the room running his hand nervously through his thick sandy colored hair. He stopped at his desk looking down at the acceptance letter from the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts and his heart skipped a beat. In his entire life he'd never wanted something as bad as he wanted to go to NYADA. He lifted the packet that had come with his acceptance letter and flipped to the section that showed how much the tuition would be even with his scholarship. He would never be able to make that kind of money any other way.

Kurt shouted in frustration throwing the packet back on his desk and then threw himself back down on his bed, picking up the contract and going straight to the last page, the page that told him how much he would make working the Carousel at Pantone.

Oh my god.

Baloo wasn't kidding about the pay. This would take care of school and boarding and he'd have some left over. He'd just have to work for… Kurt did the math in his head. Six to eight months at Pantone. Six to eight months and he would have enough money to secure his entire future .

"It's just sex. It's just sex. It's just sex." Kurt said to himself closing his eyes and taking long steady breaths.

He quickly reached towards his nightstand and grabbed a pen, hurriedly signing his name to the employee signature line. He looked down at the stark white page with its small crisp black letters and his name scrawled clear as day at the bottom. He could still back out, it wasn't like he'd turned this in yet. He knew though, he wasn't going to back out. He'd decided before he'd even left Pantone really.

He was doing this.

Kurt hurriedly jumped up from the bed and ran to the bathroom kneeling on the floor and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

He was doing this, but it still made him feel sick.