Chapter 3: The Good Life?
Krystal's alarm clock buzzed on the bedside table. It had been set for 6 but Krystal had been awake for since at least 5:30. For some reason she'd been awakened early and not been able to fall back asleep. The fact was, she just wasn't tired, and the reason she wasn't tired was because she'd actually slept well. For the last few months, her sleep had been restful and relaxed, instead of the terrifying affair that had become the norm for the last 6 years, ever since she'd started working on Sargasso. And that was what worried Krystal. As much as she hated to admit it, the dreams had become part of her routine, and their absence made her anxious. It was an anomaly, and she hated anomalies. They bugged her.
Reaching over to turn off the alarm, Krystal leaned down to give Marcus a good morning kiss. The kit's ear twitched but he remained asleep. Krystal smiled and slid out from beneath the eloquent covers. Walking quietly into the bathroom, Krystal pulled down her pants and sat down on the toilet. After she'd finished relieving herself, she flushed and closed the lid. Then bent down and began to run a shower. She closed the door and began undressing. After testing the water to make sure the temperature was fine, she stepped into the shower, letting the hot water soak into her fur. As she stood there, enjoying the feeling of the water and scrubbing up with fur shampoo, Krystal mulled over the last few weeks. Working at the various bars and restaurants on Sargasso Station was an iffy affair. Everyday she received at least 200 smacks on the ass, 500 tail-pullings, 800 wolf whistles and inappropriate remarks, and 200,000 or more lustful looks. The sense of pride she'd felt on that first day was gone, replaced by an acute irritation at the rude behavior of the barbaric residents of Star Wolf's hideout. The only upside seemed to be that she was encouraged by her managers to give them a good kick in the ego.
"Most girls that work here are just looking to make some easy money," Café de Panther's manager, Amber, had told her. "In exchange, they'll do just about anything these guys want to them to. Those girls get what they want, for the most part: Better hours, longer breaks, nicer accommodations, and a lot bigger tips! But ultimately, those girls become another face in a sea of faces and tend to fade into the background after a while." Amber had smiled mischievously as she explained, "But the ones who get the nicest treatment and the most attention, are the ones who ignore the guys, who talk back and push them away." Amber shrugged. "What can I say, they like 'em feisty here."
Krystal had been a bit confused and gave her boss a quizzical look. "And that actually works?"
"Most of the time. Don't get me wrong, there are some guys here that'll treat you worse if you ignore them. You'll make some enemies if you chose to be the bad girl, but you'll definitely be a lot better off, believe me!"
Krystal had taken Amber's advice. She'd become the bad girl. For every ass smack, someone got kicked. For every tail pulling, someone got slapped in the face. And for every whistle or sexual comment, Krystal gave a sarcastic, wounding retort. There wasn't anything she could do about the lustful glaces, though. Surprisingly, Amber's prediction came true. The more she said no, the more they pestered her. They sent flowers, chocolates, and jewelry. Gave bigger tips, complimented her on various things, treated her nicely, and each "suitor"'s gift would be extravagant than the last. She assumed it had become a kind of perverse sport for them: Let's See Who Can Screw the New Girl! But despite the better treatment, flow of money, and useless gifts, all the attention was very wearing on her. In the end it came down to one thing: Give in to it or get used to it.
Krystal had met Katt again on her first day of work. The two friends shared a tearful reunion, and exchanged shortened life stories. Katt had explained about her capture, and how she had been given a similar deal as Krystal. Apparently Wolf had used her as bait to lure in Star Falco, and while he was waiting for them to come after her, he was going to make good use of her. Falco had apparently been offered the same thing, and took it. The couple were now sharing a cell, and each had a separate work regiment to complete daily. Katt worked as a waitress, dancer, etc, same as Krystal, while Falco was given the task of hauling garbage down to the room where it was processed. "Smell's horrible down there." Falco had griped over lunch one day, expressing his dislike of the time he had to spend down there. "And that guy Rasper is a nutcase! He works down there ya know! That's why he smelled so horrible the day we arrived! He shovel's the stuff into the trash compactors!"
"Why does that make him a nut job?" Krystal had asked confused. Falco shuddered.
"It's not because of his job! It's cause whenever I go in there, I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck!" Falco shuddered again as he thought about it. "He doesn't talk, doesn't move, doesn't make a sound! He just watches me! Like I'm some kind of circus freak! And that coughing is enough to make anyone's blood freeze!"
"That's not his fault!" Krystal defended Rasper. "Whatever drug they use to make that smoke in his collar irritates his lungs!" Krystal couldn't understand why she had been so quick to defend the terrifying, repulsive creature! She didn't even like him/her/it whatever, Rasper! Yet she felt so sorry for him! She wanted to help him as he'd asked her to! Pity could explain that, but there was something else. A feeling she got when he was around.
Rasper was one of the most repulsive sights she'd ever laid eyes on! He was creepy, he smelled funny, and the sound of his coughing made her flinch. She didn't even know what species he was! And yet, whenever she saw him, Krystal couldn't keep her eyes off him. It wasn't a romantic, or sexual desire, just a peculiar fascination, bordering on obsession with the enigmatic person cloaked beneath a mask, both literal and figurative. She couldn't stand to be within 10 feet of him, but whenever he left it felt like she unexplainedly missed his presence. When he walked by she felt strange. She couldn't quite put her finger on why or even how she felt strange, she just did! He was a mystery, and she felt herself becoming more and more curious.
But Rasper not withstanding, her days were full. First, it was wake up at 7, shower, prepare for the day's work. Wake Marcus, get him fed and clothed, and then leave for work. Next came changing shifts with a fellow co-worker, and doing rounds on tables depending on what joint she was working that day. At 1:00 she had her lunch break with Katt and Falco, doing a quick check-up on Marcus, and then back to work until 6. Then she usually went back to her room, made dinner, and spent some time with Marcus, telling him a story or playing a game. Then at 7:30 came bed preparation, brushing of fangs, bathing Marcus, putting on pajamas. Then at 8:00 Marcus had to curl up and go to sleep, while Krystal either went out to visit Falco and Katt, or just simply sat up to watch television, making sure to keep the volume low so as not to disturb her son. Then at 12:00 Krystal would turn in herself. And the cycle would start over again.
Krystal cut off the jet of water and stepped out of the shower. Taking a towel, she wrapped it around herself and reached for her fur dryer. Once she was done drying off, she used another towel to wipe up the excess water on the floor. After she finished Krystal reached into a clothes locker and withdrew a clean uniform. It looked like something someone out of the Arabian Nights would wear! It was a very uncomplimenting red color that clashed with her dark blue fur. Oh well, it was just the job. She clipped the brassier to her chest, and fastened the loose dancing skirt around her hips, taking care to pull a pair of black panties up under it. Krystal admired her reflection in the mirror, sliding on the golden accessories. Satisfied that she looked alright, she brushed her fangs and applied make-up and a light perfume.
When Krystal emerged she was ready for work. It was now 7:00 in the morning and she covered herself in a bathrobe, so as not to expose her son to her "revealing" uniform. Krystal walked over to the bed where her son lay sleeping. Krystal stroked her son's head between the ears lovingly. She didn't have the heart to wake him, and decided to let him do it on his own.
With a last loving caress she walked into the kitchenette and began making blue-berry pancakes for when he woke up.
Short chapter that was originally much longer, but I'm making this a transition chapter. Thanks for your reviews and please leave some more! I'm writing the fourth chapter right now! Should be up later today!