Life in Fabletown was amazing. The environment may not have been the best—a far cry from the pristine, manicured landscapes of the homelands—but compared to stone walls and the perpetual scurry of rats, anything was better. It had taken me the longest to adjust to things like cars, those roaring metal beasts that hurtled down the streets; I still preferred to walk, the steady rhythm of my own steps a comfort. Walking down the main street each morning, I passed the familiar storefronts: "I'm The Eggman's Cafe," "Edward Bear's Candies," "Lucky Pawn," "The Looking Glass," and my personal favorite, the "YellowBrick Roadhouse." Their selection of steak and other meats was divine, and the waiter, Dorty, did not judge me based on my past. He had quickly become a genuine friend, a rarity in this new, complicated life.
I had been a constant for the past two weeks, following the same routine every day. I am a creature of habit, after all. Waking up with the first hint of dawn, I'd make my way to the Roadhouse, ordering a steak and a coffee to start the day. Then I'd walk to the Pudding & Pie, my senses alive to the city around me. Walking through the streets gave me a good idea of how everyone was living. Some Fables were thriving, like Beauty and Beast, their lives an obvious success. Others, like Toad and Flycatcher, had it rough, their struggle etched onto their worn faces. It was a constant reminder of the fine line between comfort and desperation in this hidden corner of the world.
Normally, I tried to mind my own business, most of the time steering clear of anything that could expose my cover. I felt like I had been doing a good job of gaining Georgie's trust. The longer I was there, the more I realized that Vivian, despite her seemingly subordinate role, had a significant say with Georgie. She was more than just another dancer; she was a confidante, a partner in his schemes. I was learning that the key to maintaining a great cover was to simply be myself—or rather, the version of myself they expected to see. I allowed myself to flirt with Nerissa, letting the natural allure of our interactions play out, but I also made sure to diligently do my job. The club was running smoothly under my watch, and I became known more and more. People who used to be intimidated by my size and nature were now comforted by my presence. Whenever I was around, they knew everything was going to be running as normal, a silent guarantee of stability amidst the chaos.
I finally made it to the Pudding & Pie, pushing through the heavy entrance door. The scent of stale perfume, lingering smoke, and something faintly sweet always hit me first. I was greeted by Vivian, who leaned against the bar, a playful glint in her eyes. "Good morning, Asterion," she purred, her voice a low murmur. "Are you sure I can't get you to dance? I am sure you would draw all the Fables out." I chuckled, what would usually be a deep baritone rumble softened into a friendly sound. "I don't think so, Vivian." She laughed, a bright, musical sound. "I had to try, Asterion." I made my way past her, walking into the club proper. The usual morning chaos was absent; the club was unusually silent, the DJ booth sitting unused in the corner. An unsettling quiet hung in the air. I could hear Georgie in the back, his voice a harsh bark, yelling at what I could only assume were the girls.
"You're all worthless, the lot of you! It's not so hard to keep your mouths closed on certain matters. Who am I kidding, to trust any of you with anything? Drawing eyes to things that don't need to be seen!" The quiet stretched, taut with unspoken fear. Then, through the tense silence, a phone rang. It rang three times – a specific cadence – before Georgie snatched it up after telling all of the girls to be quiet. "Yes, Boss?" Then silence again, broken only by the faint crackle of the connection. "No, Sir. I'll make sure to get the money for you. No need to involve Mary." I could smell the fear radiating off him, even from behind the bar. It was a distinct, metallic scent that only pure terror could produce. I watched him come through the door that led to his office, his eyes scanning the empty club before landing on me. I saw his fear morph into a cold, calculated look. Mary, I thought. Who is Mary?
Georgie stayed on the phone for another minute or two, a string of "Yes, Sirs" and "No, Sirs" punctuated by his nervous swallowing. I was honestly surprised that anyone had Georgie so thoroughly trained; he was usually such a bluster. The night was about to begin, the first few early birds already shuffling in, when Georgie pulled me from the front and told me to go to his office. Without a word, I made my way to his sanctum, the steel door looming, and took a seat, making myself comfortable. The scent of old cigars and faint desperation clung to the air.
Georgie walked in two or three minutes after me. Behind him, Vivian entered. She was wearing a simple silk robe, hiding her figure from view, a stark contrast to her usual provocative attire. Georgie didn't waste time with pleasantries, getting straight to the point. "Asterion, you have been here for a while now, and you have been rock solid. I think you know how to keep your mouth shut. That's my favorite quality from you, you don't speak too much, but when you do, it's important. I like having guys around that I can trust. I'm gonna go 'file some paperwork' in the other room for about thirty minutes." He made an elaborate series of hand signals as he said the last part, a clear code for something unspoken. He then turned to Vivian, his tone shifting to something almost tender. "Vivian, my Doll, you know what to do."
Georgie walked out, and Vivian dropped the robe she was using to hide her body from me. She stood before me, poised and confident. A rush of excitement, potent and unfamiliar, surged through me. The feelings were almost overwhelming, a potent cocktail of surprise and burgeoning desire, and Vivian hadn't even truly begun. Her hands, delicate yet firm, made their way to the button on my blue jeans, unbuckling them with an ease that spoke of practiced familiarity.
She slid my pants down to my ankles, her gaze lingering on what she uncovered. A knowing smile played on her lips. "I was right when I said all of Fabletown would line up for it," she murmured, her voice husky. I looked down at her, the intensity of my own reaction, my inexperience, likely making itself known. She met my eyes, a mischievous glint in hers. "I can tell this doesn't happen often for you, so just follow my lead, big boy!"
She moved my briefs aside, her touch confident. The sensation that followed was foreign, a primal pleasure that made a shiver run through me. She lowered her head, and the world seemed to narrow to her. Her movements were precise, expert, guiding me into a realm of sensation I had never known. The confusion in my mind warred with the rising tide of pleasure as she continued, her focus absolute. Her pace increased, fluid and rhythmic, a mesmerizing dance of pure sensation. She came up for a breath, her chest heaving slightly, then, with a practiced gesture, pulled her hair up into a makeshift ponytail.
I locked eyes with her, and she gave me the most innocent smile I had seen from her, a stark contrast to the fierce passion of moments before. She interlocked her fingers in mine, a gesture of unexpected tenderness, and then lowered her head once more, her movements deliberate and all-consuming. I felt the slow, exquisite stretch, then the deeper, more profound pressure. I looked down at her, unsure of what to do, and she subtly applied more pressure with her head, guiding my hand to her scalp. I understood. I placed my hand on her head, applying gentle, guiding pressure, pushing her further, deeper, until she finally reached the base. Her mouth became an oasis of pleasure, and she began to move, bobbing her head with increasing speed. We both lost ourselves in the powerful, escalating rhythm. This, being my first time experiencing anything like this, left me utterly ensnared and at Vivian's mercy.
I looked down at Vivian, and I could see the subtle shivers running through her, her legs trembling faintly, a small, dark patch making itself known beneath her. Her grip on my hand tightened, clenching and squeezing in a quick, desperate pattern. As she did, she pushed down even further, her tongue darting out to graze against me, all while maintaining eye contact, a challenge and a promise in her gaze.
I felt the pressure build rapidly, a tide rising within me. I saw the surprise flash in Vivian's eyes as I filled her mouth. She swallowed once, then twice, before finally spitting the third, overflowing portion out onto the floor. She looked up at me, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Someone's been backed up, hasn't he?" she teased, her voice a little breathless.
My cock was still out, semi-erect, a silent testament to the intensity of the experience, ready for a second round. But that's when Georgie walked in. I've never been one for caring about my appearance in situations like this, so I just stayed sitting there, Vivian still at my feet, recovering. I looked at Georgie, a new expression, a quiet sense of satisfaction, settling on my face. "I like this feeling," I stated simply, truthfully. He let out a booming belly laugh, a genuine sound of amusement. "Don't we all, Asterion? Don't we all. Now you know how we get paid... Sex sells, big man. Come here, Vivian." She got up, ignoring the discarded robe on the floor, and moved towards Georgie. He was leaning against his desk, a look of proprietorship in his eyes. Vivian stood in front of him, then turned around, bending over in a practiced, fluid motion.
"Asterion," Georgie began, his voice now serious, the playfulness gone, "the reason I have you in here is because me and Vivian have been planning something big here in Fabletown, and I want your help. You're new blood here, and I could use a friend like you on my side. I know you know I have a boss. I don't have a choice on that matter, 'cause he gave me this building. But I think with you by my side, we can take over Fabletown from the shadows. What do you think? You can get everything you want—I'll get you girls, drinks, and all the meat you can eat. All I need from you is your loyalty. What do you say?"
Vivian stood before me, unrobed, a vision of temptation. The heat emanating from her, the lingering taste of pleasure on my tongue – it was all a powerful current, pulling me into a world I was only just discovering. Georgie's words, however, cut through the haze, grounding me in the present. He wanted my loyalty, my strength, to help him seize control of Fabletown's shadows. He promised me girls, drinks, and meat – simple pleasures, yes, but ones that had been denied to me for centuries.
The offer hung in the air, a heavy, fragrant invitation. My new control held, steady and sure, allowing me to weigh the options without the beastly urges clouding my judgment. This was the "darkness of men" the Fairy Godmother had spoken of. This was my entry point.
"I like this feeling," I rumbled, my gaze fixed on Vivian, then meeting Georgie's calculating eyes. "If I can get some more."
A wide, triumphant grin spread across Georgie's face. "Excellent, my boy, excellent! We're gonna do great things together, you and I!" He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the office. "Vivian, my dear, come here!"
Vivian, with a suggestive smirk, rose from her knees, her eyes never leaving mine as she walked over to Georgie. He leaned against his desk, and she turned, bending over in front of him. The sight was intoxicating, and the lingering scent of her arousal only intensified it.
"You see, Asterion," Georgie continued, his voice a low, conspiratorial murmur as he began to caress Vivian, "me and Vivian, we work for a man. The Crooked Man. He's the one who gave me this place. But he's got his fingers in everything, and it's time someone else took a bigger slice of the pie, eh?"
He paused, a glint in his eye. "We're in the process of getting more ribbons made. Special ones. We're going to put them on some of the girls here. Apparently, they'll guarantee discretion. Prevent them from talking about the business, you know. Keeps things tidy."
My mind immediately latched onto the implications of that. Ribbons to control speech. A means of silencing Fables. This was crucial information for Snow and Bigby. I needed to tell them immediately.
"We recently bought the Open Arms Hotel," Georgie continued, pulling me back to the conversation. "That's where we're going to start the real business. Big plans, Asterion, big plans. For now, I want you to lay low. Keep doing what you're doing here. You're invaluable on the door. I'll let you know when I need you for the next phase."
He looked at me, his gaze shrewd. "Now, enough talk of business! Tonight, we celebrate! Vivian, make sure our new partner knows what true loyalty gets him."
Vivian, with a seductive smile, approached me again. The rest of the night was a blur of rich, dark meat, potent liquor that burned pleasantly in my throat, and the intoxicating touch of Vivian, pleasing both Georgie and me with an unnerving ease. My new control held firm, allowing me to savor the sensations, to observe the dynamics of power and pleasure unfolding around me, all while a part of my mind meticulously filed away every detail: the ribbons, the Crooked Man, the Open Arms Hotel.
The path ahead was clear, and it was steeped in shadows and illicit desires. But within that darkness, I knew, lay the answers I sought.