Red Light District

Chapter 5: Morning, sunshine.

Muffet straightened the puffy bow around his lacy collar.

“There. You look precious.”

Sans thought that was a pretty narcissistic comment, considering this was the sort of frou-frou dress that Muffet usually wore. He’d woken up to her standing over him in his room, holding the dress out excitedly and bouncing on her heels. This client’s requests had fulfilled her need to play dress-up with Sans.

Muffet opened the door.

“In you go.”

The heels were a challenge. At least he didn’t have drinks to carry this time. He walked carefully into the room and heard the door close behind him.

A tall, serious-looking monster was seated on a high-backed chair. Other than the bed, there wasn’t any other seating in the room. The monster was some kind of bat—its big, floppy ears contrasted with the no-nonsense look on its face. The fingers at the end of its leathery wings were steepled under its chin.

“Come here in front of me.”

Sans walked slowly to the middle of the room and stood in front of the bat. The bat raised one finger and swirled it in the air.

“Give us a twirl.”

Sans spun in the dress, praying he wouldn’t trip. The laces and ruffles floated up around him. When he came full circle and faced the bat again, its grim expression had brightened with a smile.

“Ah, that’s lovely. Can you curtsy?”

“Um. I don’t know how.”

“You cross your legs at the ankle, then bend your knees. Go on.”

Sans gave it a try. He’d seen it before, but his legs didn’t feel like they could do anything close to that. He put one foot in front of the other, and that was apparently the wrong way to do it. His bent legs ended in an inelegant tangle. The bat laughed at him.

“All right, all right, not the dainty type, are you?” It patted its thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”

Sans stumbled a little as he went up to the bat, trying to preserve the dainty image at the last moment by carefully gathering the skirts of the dress as he sat down. A hand snaked around his waist and pulled him closer.

“Yes, that’s good. Just ravishing.” The bat thumbed the fabric of Sans’ skirts between its fingers. If this monster liked cute clothes so much, maybe it should just fuck dresses instead of bothering with Sans.

“I have something for you.”

The monster offered Sans a spoonful of pudding. Sans was grateful he’d been given some warning about this client, particularly that he’d have to take the drug.

The client was an old widower who was something of a topic of gossip with the other workers. Everyone thought he was a little odd, but if he had any truly cruel intentions, they had yet to come out.

He always made the same request—his whore was to wear a frilled dress with layered skirts, and should answer to ‘dear’ and ‘darling.’ The workers gathered that he was dressing them up to resemble his late wife, but he never made further requests about attitude or playacting.

Rumor had it that he did a long time ago, but then never asked again. Apparently his fantasy was carried out best by visual and memory alone, or he’d ceased to miss his wife as desperately and merely had a fetish for a certain kind of clothing.

With the way the bat was holding the spoon so close to Sans’ face, Sans didn’t bother to reach out and take the spoon from him. He stuck his tongue out and licked some of the pudding off. He was hesitant to eat all of it—it was definitely more than a teaspoon—but thankfully that didn’t seem to be the bat’s intent. The bat pulled the spoon away and put the rest in its own mouth.

The way the bat savored the spoon that Sans licked made Sans shiver. The bat looked at him and rubbed a thumb at his waist, then without getting up, took off its coat and put it around Sans.

As the monster secured the coat over Sans’ shoulders, it bent its face down to kiss and nip at Sans’ neck. Sans could feel the bat’s erection poking his thigh through its pants. The attention to his neck wasn’t working too badly on Sans either—when the bat adjusted a knee and pushed it gently up between Sans’ legs, Sans gave a small gasp and automatically clenched the knee with his thighs.

The bat slipped a hand under the skirts and brushed its long fingers down Sans’ thigh to his knee. The kisses trailed up to Sans’ chin, and the bat whispered close to his cheek.

“Show me your panties.”

Sans lifted the skirts, but they kept falling down over him. He finally gathered enough of them up to show off the lacy panties Muffet had given him. One of the bat’s long fingers rubbed a knuckle into the wet crotch.

“Mm. Good.”

The bat lightly grabbed Sans’ chin with one hand, then spread out its other wing in one long motion to throw both their faces in shade and shield them from the room.

“Good.”

As the bat’s face closed in on his, Sans had a thought. The wing was also shielding their faces from the watching cameras. Sans swallowed.

The bat drew him into a deep kiss. The wing wrapped further around them, like a cocoon. It was just a kiss. Nothing sneaky and painful, no secret face under a mask that he could tell. The kiss was barely above PG. Something about the shyness of the improvised privacy made it almost romantic. The monster was seducing him.

He couldn’t say it wasn’t working. If he weren’t so afraid, all of this pretense would probably have disgusted him. But some combination of the slow pace, the ridiculous froofiness of the dress, and Sans’ relief made him actually start to relax and let the drug work like it was supposed to. He just barely held himself back from rubbing his crotch against the bat’s knee. He wasn’t sure if that was something someone who wore a dress like this was supposed to do.

Sans breathed in and out steadily and gripped the other monster’s arms, his face heating up. The bat brought its arm down and reached between Sans’ legs. Sans’ breath hitched.

“Lie back, darling.”

Sans leaned backwards and was supported by an outstretched wing. The hand between his legs dipped into his panties, not removing them, and fingered his clit. Sans arched his back.

“How’s this?”

Sans couldn’t get an answer out. The bat was teasing at the opening of the pussy and still thumbing his clit, making Sans’ eyes cross a little. It probably didn’t look too elegant, but the bat didn’t seem to mind.

Two fingers entered Sans one at a time. Once in him, they alternated pushing in and out, then jabbed into him together. Sans’ hips moved with the fingers, little noises of pleasure bubbling out of him.

Before it built up too much, the hand pulled out of him and out of his panties, leaving a cold wetness on the fabric to cool the hot magic. The bat picked Sans up in both arms and carried him over to the bed.

It threw him down on the bed. The landing was soft, but the violent motion flipped a switch in Sans. The bat appeared to take notice as it crawled over him.

“Are you frightened, dear?”

“yes”

Perhaps Sans’ reaction to the question was too honest—either the smallness of his voice or the look on his face—because the bat’s expression almost looked like real concern. It pulled further away from him.

No no no. He wasn’t going to lie here in a frilly dress covered in ribbons, with his panties soaked with arousal and the monster over him actually giving him space and looking at him like this, and then also dare to start—

Dammit.

“Oh no, oh darling, don’t cry. There’s no need for tears.”

There certainly wasn’t.

The bat rubbed its hands up and down Sans’ waist. Sans hiccoughed.

“Shh. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Sans shook his head.

“Go on, tell me what’s the matter. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sans didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth. The whole story was a little much for him to get out in this state, and it hadn’t gone well for him before when a client knew what had happened to him. Maybe a part of the truth was enough, but he still didn’t know how he was going to answer as his mouth opened, and the sound he let out was more like wailing than words.

“I d-don’t like s-sex!”

“Oh.”

The monster stopped stroking his waist and sat back.

“Oh. Hm.”

A look crossed its face that Sans couldn’t read from his position. When the bat came close to him again, reached for him, he cringed with his arms over his face. He was going to be punished one way or another, whether the bat was angry with him or simply more turned on by his reluctance.

Sans felt himself being pulled by the shoulders to rest at the headboard, his head and upper back supported by pillows. When he lowered his arms from his face, he saw the bat monster settled a little ways down the bed from him, where he was lying a moment ago. Far enough away that it couldn’t make a quick grab at him anymore.

“By sex, do you mean penetration? You seemed to be enjoying my fingers a moment ago.”

Sans swallowed.

“I took that drug.”

“So did I. Did you not enjoy it?”

“I…” Couldn’t it be both yes and no? “…I liked it.”

“You must be uncomfortable by now. Do you want me to relieve you?”

Sans pressed his thighs together under the skirts. Wetness was still seeping through his underwear. His magic pulsed with urgency at even the suggestion of touch.

“What happens…what happens if I say no?”

“You spend the rest of the night in my lap, and I read in bed.”

Sans trembled. The bat put up its hands placatingly.

“Not…not on my—I mean, not…I won’t penetrate you if you don’t want me to, I promise.”

Sans sat up a little straighter. None of this made sense.

“Are you joking? What did you pay for, then?”

“I paid to spend time with my wife.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You’re certainly not alone.”

The bat came a little closer.

“Is your answer no, then? I confess I feel a bit guilty having you take that if you’re going to suffer through it.”

Sans absentmindedly played with the frills of his dress, trying to figure out where he wanted his eyes to be looking.

“How would you…do it?”

“I can do it any way you’d prefer.”

The bat was much closer now. It was hunched over him again, but he was slightly less afraid.

“Why did you make me take that drug.”

A wing brushed the folds of the dress. Sans quivered, his arousal intensified by the proximity despite the lightness of the touch. He blushed deeply. The bat’s expression was apologetic.

“I need it, and I don’t like to take it alone. It’s selfish, I know. But I only gave you a tiny amount.”

“I’m…small.”

“That’s clear enough. I’m sorry.” The wing brushing over the clothes ran over a thigh through the fabric. Some combination of how incidental the touch was, and yet how perfectly sensual, sent tingles running up Sans’ spine that were practically magical. Probably were literally magical, come to think of it.

“Okay. Okay. Go ahead.”

“You want me to?”

Sans’ response was robotic. “No one cares what I want.”

The bat gave him a funny look.

“I mean. How are you…going to do it?”

“I could use my mouth.”

Sans glanced at the bat fearfully.

“Could you show me your tongue?”

If the monster was confused, it was good at hiding it. It stuck its tongue out. It matched what Sans felt when he kissed him—short and pink, nothing special about it, no hidden horrors.

“Okay.”

The bat carefully lifted Sans’ skirts with its wings, then ducked its head under them. Only its behind and part of its back was visible now. The visual reminded Sans of an old-fashioned cameraman.

Sans expected the first thing he’d feel to be his panties being removed, but before the fingers touched him, there was a warm wetness pressing against his crotch through fabric. The tongue was lapping at him through the panties. Sans clenched bedsheets between his fingers and exhaled slowly.

The tongue pulled away. He heard a muffled voice under the skirts.

“Does that feel good?”

“yeah”

The desperation in his tone must have come through, because the tongue pressed against him again with more force. His panties were pulled down and warmth enveloped his clit. The bat was sucking on it. Sans gasped. He fell back into the pillows, his back arching.

The bat licked up the folds, then traced around the opening. Sans thought he would feel the tongue filling him, but it licked up to his clit again, circling it and rubbing at it. The familiar tightness coiling in his loins without the addition of something jamming inside him made Sans relax. He let out a long sigh and pressed himself back into the downy softness, his crotch raising shyly to meet the tongue working at him.

The bat pushed Sans’ hips back down to the mattress and shoved its mouth fully against the cunt. The friction sent tremors of pleasure surging through Sans’ body.

“Ah-h…ha…ah!”

The bat’s fingers were stroking Sans’ waist again. The tongue was wholly focused on pleasuring his clit. Sans gripped the headboard. Something was rushing in on him, he was going to get swept away, he was going to entirely lose control.

Hands squeezed his waist tight, the bat sucked hard at him and jabbed its tongue at his clit, tipping him over. Sans writhed over the mouth, each push of the tongue making him more sensitive to the wave crashing through him.

The bat popped its head out from under the dress, in its place slipping its hands beneath the skirts. Sans felt the fingers curling at his groin.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Sans clamped his mouth shut, but couldn’t stop some small, satisfied whimpers from coming out, his body shaking with lust. He nodded.

The fingers brushed over him, then rubbed against him in earnest, pleasuring him quickly into another big wave that made his hips jolt. The bat stroked him until the last aftershocks of his orgasms were spent.

Sans collapsed. The fingers still worked at him when he had nothing else left, and his hips jerked with each excessive twinge. Being stroked past the point of release was almost painful, but in the inexplicable midway point where that only made it sweeter.

“I have something to ask you.”

Sans opened his eyes blearily and tried to meet the bat’s gaze. Everything was pleasantly fuzzy.

“I want to come under your skirts. Can I do that?”

Sans nodded. The monster could have said he wanted Sans to eat Onion’s entire store of human food, and Sans might have given it a shot. The heavy afterglow was making just about anything sound like an appealing proposition.

The bat pulled Sans up slightly to sit over its lap, still leaning him against the headboard. The bat’s wings and lower half disappeared under the ruffles of the dress. Sans saw a lump moving up and down under the fabric with increasing urgency. The bat was doubling over and breathing heavily.

Sans felt heat and a few spurts hitting him under his clothes. The shots of cum started hard and fast, then steadily petered out into light spurts he could barely feel.

“Can I rub against you?”

Sans had to sate his curiosity. He shook his head. The monster started to pull itself out of Sans’ clothes.

Without telling them to, Sans’ hands reached out and gripped the bat. Sans paused, catching up with his own action, then nodded emphatically. The bat looked at him quizzically.

“Oh…? …oh!”

It rubbed its cock against Sans’ pelvis. The wet friction made Sans shudder. He closed his eyes.

“Do you want me inside you?”

Sans’ eyes snapped open. He looked up at the bat with a pleading expression.

“It’s okay. It’s all right. If you don’t want to, I won’t. I’m perfectly satisfied.”

Sans gripped the monster’s wings.

“You seem to have gone mute. Are you okay?”

Sans didn’t know how to answer. He let go of the other monster, and it didn’t press him.

“I want to keep rubbing against you. Would that be all right?”

“Y-yeah.”

The monster rut against him for a while longer, eventually spilling more cum over him. Unlike his first client, this time the sticky sensation was strangely satisfying.

Just as he’d said before, the bat ended the session by pulling Sans fully onto its lap and reading as Sans fell asleep. Sans had dreams that the slug wanted to have tea with him, but it wouldn’t take no for an answer and insistently pushed at the door even as Sans tried to close it on him. The bat gently shook Sans awake. Sans forgot where he was.

“Our time’s up. It’s been a lovely evening.”

The bat helped Sans hobble sleepily to the door. There was a click of release, and the bat opened the door for him. One of Muffet’s guards greeted them. The bat regarded them as it handed Sans off.

“He makes some truly piteous noises in his sleep. You should see about Muffet getting him to a doctor.”

Then he walked the opposite way down the hall, to the exit.

***

Sans spent another meal trying to avoid Cecil, but Shyren sat down next to him, and Cecil soon followed. Sans had thought he was done with things like shame, but he’d never wanted to talk to another monster less.

Maybe the other workers had telepathy, maybe they checked him, or maybe they were just intimately familiar with the look on another worker’s face that said ‘I was so weak I let myself enjoy it.’ Either way, Sans was thankful that the entire meal was silent.

***

Sans woke up to a monster holding a hand over his mouth. It took Sans a moment to catch up to reality. Something was very wrong. He was definitely still in his own room—this monster had gotten into the private quarters somehow. He wasn’t a client, or he was an overeager one. Sans could hear a wet slapping sound. The monster was jerking off.

The monster breathed into his ear.

“Make yourself a cunt or I’ll break you in half.”

Sans concentrated magic between his legs. The monster yanked Sans’ shorts down and shoved his dick in without any preparation. Sans gave a muffled cry behind the hand on his mouth.

The monster thrust into him too fast. Sans’ lower body hurt too much to kick, but he struggled with his arms to push the monster off. Apparently the monster had more than two arms, because without removing the hand over Sans’ mouth, two hands materialized out of the darkness to grasp Sans’ wrists and pin them to the bed over Sans’ head. Sans couldn’t see him well in the dark, but he wondered if the monster was a giant spider like Muffet.

Muffet. Sans looked up in the direction of the camera in the corner of the room. It was too dark to see if the shirt had been taken off it—when he’d gone to bed, it was still there. No one had bothered to uncover it. But if this monster was covering his mouth, maybe it was concerned about noise.

The tracker prevented Sans from summoning dangerous magic like his blasters—or at least not working ones. But maybe he could make the simulacrum of one and pop it. He focused his energy, and the bare bones of a blaster appeared above their heads. It didn’t have any fire power, but it still should—

It dispelled with a loud crack.

Time stretched on and the bed continued to creak as the monster pounded into him painfully. Even the monster raping him didn’t acknowledge the strange makeshift rescue flare. It just thrust faster, forcing tortured yells out of Sans’ throat. It pushed its hand harder over Sans’ mouth to dull the sound, but at this point Sans couldn’t fathom why. It kept going until Sans’ throat was too sore to scream. His diaphragm continued to make the effort, though, and Sans thought his heaving motions might actually make him vomit.

The monster finished inside him with a low, satisfied moan.

Its dick hurt Sans almost as much pulling out as it had going in. The sticky mess of ejaculate that trailed the dick and spilled out after it felt like salt in a wound. Sans choked on a squeaky cry.

The monster over him let go of his hold, freeing up Sans’ arms and mouth. He pat Sans on the cheek. Sans was terrified that this was just the start, but instead of seizing the opportunity to bolt, the best he could manage in defense was to throw his arms over his face. The monster laughed at him.

“Done already?”

It hefted Sans’ whole body up and brought him down in a low crouch, shoving Sans’ face into its crotch. It stroked its dick once and pointed it at Sans’ mouth, using more than two hands to push Sans’ mouth onto its cock. It had enough free hands, but didn’t bother restraining any part of Sans other than his head. Sans had already stopped fighting.

“That’s right. Take it.”

The monster moved Sans’ head up and down over its cock, rutting up into his mouth at the same time. This time didn’t take nearly as long before the monster was spilling into him. The monster looked like it was in ecstasy. Sans looked away from its face.

“A-ahhhh…oh, that’s good. Swallow. And lick it up, too.”

Sans gulped in what he could. The hands held him firmly onto the cock until it was spent. Sans obediently licked at it, feeling it pulse from his attentions. He gripped the other monster’s legs, hesitating, worried that he would get the monster excited all over again and have to endure more.

The monster held his head insistently at its crotch, but the cock was going flaccid.

“Lick lower.”

Sans bent his head and licked at the base of the shaft from beneath. Something hard poked his chin. He pulled his head back and saw another prong of the dick, growing and hardening underneath the softening prong. Sans yelped and yanked his whole body away, landing on his back. The monster cackled.

“Looks like we’re not finished.”

Sans gave another strained yelp from his sore throat and adrenaline moved his aching legs. He almost fell off the bed, but the monster caught him. It pulled Sans’ hips up and shoved his head into the sheets, ramming into him from behind.

As the monster slammed his hips faster, he reached under Sans’ shirt. He felt under his rib cage and dragged a finger over Sans’ soul. Sans tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper, and his throat burned. He scrambled with his arms wildly, accomplishing nothing but gathering sheets around him.

“No one’s going to help you. You’re mine now.”

The finger drew lazy designs over the soul. Sans thrashed.

“That’s it. Fight for your life, little monster. Fight for your soul.”

Sans coughed up spit. His legs weren’t responding anymore. The monster gave one last hard thrust into him, then pulled out and flipped Sans on his back, lifting his shirt over his ribs and exposing the pulsating light of his frantic soul.

Sans tried speaking again, but panic had frozen his vocal cords. The monster wasn’t looking at him anyway. Its eyes were rolling up in its head as it pumped its cock, speeding up to a frenetic pace. It bent its whole body over Sans.

Its hips pumped once more into its hand, and it seemed to be experiencing an intense release a second before cum spurted onto Sans’ soul. The semen swam around the surface for a moment before seeping into him like it was going down a drain. Sans wanted to curl up and cry and not stop crying.

The monster got up from the bed. Sans felt breath on his face as it leaned over him.

“Be good for me again next time.”

Sans heard footsteps and then a creak. The monster was going out the door. He rolled his head to the side to catch its shadow leaving. It was definitely some kind of insect or arachnid. Sans stayed still as a statue for a solid minute.

He had to get himself out of the room. He wasn’t safe in here. That monster could come back for him.

Sans painfully got himself onto his stomach, then slid off the bed. When his feet touched the floor, the force of contact sent a bolt of pain from his crotch down his leg. He got onto his hands and knees, but crawling hurt too. Whimpering pitifully, he lowered himself all the way so his stomach was flat on the floor, and he tried dragging himself to the door.

Before he could make much progress, the many-legged silhouette reappeared in the doorway. Sans covered his head with his arms like he was protecting from an earthquake.

“D-don’t kill me.”

He didn’t know why of all things, that would be something he would ask for. Instinct, maybe.

“It’s all right, dearie.”

The light was flipped on, and Muffet went up to him.

“You were safe the whole time; I was watching over you. He just wanted to role play with you, that’s all.”

Sans managed to look up at her. He had no idea what kind of look he was fixing her with. Whatever it was, Muffet responded with a reassuring smile.

“I told you nothing happens here without me knowing, didn’t I?”

***

At the next lounge night, Cecil tried to hand Sans a tray again. Sans walked in the opposite direction, and Cecil hopped in front of him to block him. They spent a moment wrestling ridiculously as a third worker grabbed quickly to save the glasses and place them on a counter.

When Cecil tried to get Sans to carry the makings of an Old Fashioned by moving to stick a cherry in Sans’ eye socket, Sans dropped his tray entirely, forcing Cecil to catch it so it wouldn’t hit the floor. Sans slapped the tray out of Cecil’s hands so it fell to the floor anyway.

“Will you fucking stop it?”

Cecil looked up angrily from the floor where they were brushing off the tray.

“Excuse me?”

“Switching tables with me, getting in trouble with the monitors on purpose, all that shit. You have a problem, Cecil. Some kind of…saving-people problem. Consider this a favor, because you’re going to get yourself killed if you keep doing stuff like this.”

Cecil huffed.

“Mind your own business. And go to the damn table.”

They shoved the tray into Sans’ hands.

“Don’t—”

“I’m fine. Just fricking go. Just go!”

The old crocodile woke from a nap while Sans was already busy muddling sugar and bitters for his drink.

“Cecil told me to expect you last time. Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

Sans muddled the sugar with a bit too much force. Cecil was somewhere on the other side of the room with some other client, or clients, maybe a monster that would have a pleasant conversation with them, or maybe a monster that would continually try to force itself on them. That they would have to keep their guard up around.

Sans could barely move his legs without pain shooting up his groin, he wouldn’t even be able to fight off the chronically drunk client like this. He was still so scared and he needed this favor very, very badly, but that didn’t make him feel any less like trash. He slid the Old Fashioned over to the crocodile, then rested his forehead on the table.

“…do you want to hear a story? Or are you not feeling well?”

“I wanna hear a story. Hold on.”

Sans very slowly and gingerly got himself off his side of the booth and sat next to the crocodile on the other side. He leaned on the crocodile’s shoulder. The monster looked down at him in mild surprise.

“If we were caught like this, I could get into trouble, you know.”

“So get into trouble for me.” Sans leaned more heavily on him. “It’s all the rage lately.”

A few minutes into the old monster’s story, Sans fell asleep on top of him.

***

“Nothing’s going to hurt you. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

Sans paused outside the door to his room. He didn’t want to go in anymore. Muffet opened it. The only thing different about the room was that a dummy had been placed in a corner. Sans looked nervously at Muffet.

“Just go to sleep, dear. Nothing will happen until morning.”

“I…don’t think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Yes you will. I drugged your dinner.”

“You—!”

“Come along.”

Muffet took Sans by the shoulders and guided him to his bed. He braced himself against her pushing, not enough to get in trouble, but enough to slow her. He was already getting sleepy, as though being told about the drug had activated it somehow.

“Muffet, please…”

“It’s okay. A client will wake you up, that’s all. I’ll be watching the whole time. They’ll be very gentle.”

As Sans was pushed onto the bed and tucked in, he kept reaching up and whining her name plaintively.

“I don’t…Muffet…! Muffet, no…”

“Goodnight, Sans. Sweet dreams.”

The lights were turned out and Sans wasn’t aware of drifting off.

***

Now was this a sex dream, or was a monster in his room again, touching him? Whatever was going on, it felt so good that Sans let it happen without complaint.

Something felt warm and wet. Sans tried to reach down to stroke between his legs, but his arms were too heavy to lift even an inch. He had to settle for letting himself be taken care of. By…whatever this was.

Was that a tongue? There was a tingling, a hot zap like an electric pulse of pure sex. He came in subdued spasms, hips thrusting at the air a few times, craving a more intense release.

Sans opened his eyes, suddenly remembering what Muffet told him last night. He looked around, but wasn’t able to raise his head. It looked like the dummy had been moved closer to his bed, but other than that there was nothing unusual. No one else was in the room.

Then a very strange thing occurred. Sans felt his own mouth open, heard his own voice, saying things he wasn’t telling it to say.

“Mornin’ sunshine.”

Sans’ hand went between his legs and rubbed in circles. The motion confused Sans—he’d wanted his hand to do that a moment ago, but this was some kind of bizarre delayed response. He could feel his hand, could feel himself on his fingertips and the tingling at his groin, but he didn’t feel control. With the same disconnected feeling, his hips lifted off the bed, jerking into the hand’s movements. Then both his hands pulled his shorts down.

Sans spoke again without choosing the words.

“How about a dick, huh?”

Sans wasn’t able to use his own voice, but the other speaker evidently had some connection to Sans’ thoughts.

“Whaddya mean they didn’t teach you that one, you some kinda moron? Whatever.”

A red, transparent cock appeared out of magic. It was formed fully erect. Sans’ hand was made to grip it and pump it once. This time the surprised jerk of his hips was his own.

“Sensitive, aintcha? Heh heh heh…”

The force controlling him made him pump the cock faster, too fast—some precum was already dribbling out and his body convulsed. Sans clenched the sheets hard with his other fist.

“I bet you’re the type to dirty talk yourself when you jerk it.”

Sans’ hand was made to stroke a rib under his shirt while his other hand still pumped furiously at his cock. He was forced to pant with his tongue out.

“Ohhh, feels so good, it’s so hot…I’m gonna…”

Exaggerated moans came out of his mouth. He turned over on his stomach and started humping the thick covers.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come—!”

But he didn’t come. His hips and hand stopped moving and working at him at the worst possible moment, leaving a tantalizing release just out of reach.

“Ahhh, that’s a good start. Don’t wanna get too excited too fast. It’s been a while.”

His hand trailed over the shaft of the dick. The light touch was torturous.

“What’s that? I’m a ghost, obviously. Try to keep up, dummy.”

The ghost made him get up from bed and put his shorts back on over the straining erection. It shrugged on his old snow jacket. Then it went up to the door, and slammed a flat hand on it instead of going for the knob.

“Woo! I felt that. You’re really fightin’ this hard. Whatsamatter, you shy, baby boy?”

The hand gripped the knob forcefully and swung the door open.

“We’re gonna get sucked off. Try not to cramp my style.”

They walked down the hall and into the section of private rooms. The ghost made them knock on a door, and Shyren answered.

“Heya doll.”

“Oh! Sans! I didn’t expec—”

The ghost brushed past Shyren and walked into the room.

“—expect…come in?”

Sans sat down on a couch and got comfortable. Shyren went up to him uncertainly.

It’s not me. It’s not me it’s not me it’s not me

Pipe down in there, short stuff.

The ghost had them pat the spot on the couch next to them. Shyren didn’t appear to notice, still looking confused.

“I’m happy to see you walking around easier. Are you feeling a little better?”

“What? Oh yeah, my legs hurt like hell. I kinda like it, though.”

“I…oh? Listen, Sans, I was meaning to talk to you, and I know you’re not usually very open—I’m glad you came to see me, I really am, but…I’m actually waiting for a client right now.”

Sans leaned back and waggled his eyebrows. Shyren blinked.

“What…what? But how—”

“Muffet gave me special permission or something, what do you care?”

Sans got up from the couch and grabbed Shyren’s fin, forcing it to touch the erection between his legs.

“I took care o’ the foreplay for you, so let’s get right down to it, huh? Or you get down to it, at least.”

Shyren pulled her fin away.

“Sans, this had better not be a prank.”

“I’m serious, babe. C’mon, I’m dyin’ here.”

Shyren looked into Sans’ eyes. Then she looked at a camera up in the corner. A thought in her head was almost visible as it flitted through her eyes. When she focused on Sans again, her face was sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh? What the hell for?”

Shyren’s expression changed to a more neutral one.

“…for misunderstanding, of course.”

She got on her knees and placed her fins on Sans’ hips.

“Now that’s more like it.”

Shyren looked up at him, and for a moment her gaze was strangely piercing.

“Don’t worry…Sans. I’ll take care of you.”

“Uh…yeah, okay. Good. Cool.”

The ghost pulled the dick out of their shorts. Shyren moved her face toward it, her mouth open, her breath radiating a wet warmth before the mouth even touched the cock.

Sans tripped backwards and landed on his behind. He sat on the floor, quaking, the ghost making his head shake in confusion. Shyren looked down at them, some sadness creeping back into her face. The ghost forced a laugh.

“I uh…I tripped? Oops? Whatever, suck me off from down here, then I get to lie back.”

“Do you need a moment?”

“Fucking no, suck my dick already! This shit hurts!”

Shyren hesitated anyway, but bent over Sans and lowered her head into his lap. She lapped gently around the head of the cock, then kissed it. It gave a needy twitch.

“Christ, this ain’t prom, go faster than that!”

Shyren enveloped the head in her mouth, sucking at it and rolling her tongue around it. Sans leaned back and moaned.

“Ohh, that’s…that’s better. Take more of it, god, don’t make me fuck your face.”

His hips rut up anyway, and Shyren quickly fit more of the cock down her throat. Sans could feel her throat gulping around him, the tongue massaging him. He let out a shuddering sigh. His hand rested on the back of Shyren’s head, then pushed it down further.

“How much can you…ugh! How much can you take?”

Shyren easily took his whole cock down her throat in answer. He was hugged by a tight heat. She slowly drew her head up, then lowered it down again. Sans’ hips shook.

“Shit, shit, that’s good…go faster, come on, come on—!”

His hips bucked into her mouth. She moved her head up with his hips.

“Dammit, ugh, come on, don’t make me beg. Jesus this hurts…I waited too long, I gotta…”

Shyren bobbed her head up and down faster, the motion both building up the tension and relieving the stress. The ghost gave a sob of relief. Sans’ body curled over her head almost helplessly, hips making small desperate jerking motions that she stilled by holding his thighs down with her fins.

“Oh shit, that’s…fuck. Ahaha. I forgot it’s…don’t judge, I’m. Fuck! I’m gonna—”

Sans grabbed at Shyren’s head and raised his hips against her fins. She stilled her head over him with his cock all the way down her throat, and she made swallowing motions that contracted around him. Shivers rushed through him as he came. He heard her gulping.

When she’d swallowed everything, she raised her mouth and licked over him, the cock giving a few last twitches in response as it started to soften. Sans laid all the way back.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

“Mads, could I talk to Sans please?”

“Jesus, you couldn’t keep it up the whole time? What a boner killer.”

Shyren looked at the softening dick, then at Sans.

“Aren’t you done?”

“Ain’t you ever heard of afterglow, bitch? Besides, I got time left. I’m gonna go catch some Z’s, or maybe jack off some more. Hell, bodies are amazing. Even weird ones like this.”

“Couldn’t I, just for a moment—?”

“Hey, babe, I’m in this guy’s head. I’ll give you a translation: he says you have a great bod, he wants to feed you more spunk some time.”

Shyren’s facial expression was controlled. Sans didn’t know her well enough to know if she was concealing doubt or disgust.

***

The ghost made them flop onto the bed in his room. He nuzzled their face into the covers and gave a satisfied groan.

“I hope you like it dirty, ’cause you’re gonna jizz in the sheets.”

He worked himself up again, rutting into the bed, spitting into his hand and pumping his dick into an almost painful erection.

“Ah, ohhh, yeah…yeah…”

The discomfort transformed back into a flush of pleasure that surged down his spine and through his groin, orgasm paralyzing him into submission to his need. The ghost gathered bedding to his crotch and released into it.

Before everything was spent, Sans felt control return to him, but only just. He was still coming in small spurts, but he was too desperate to stop himself. He made himself finish, stroking out the last discharges from his cock.

A mad cackle came from next to the bed. Sans tiredly turned his head to look. The dummy was moving, grinning at him.

“Thought I’d treat you to a little too, since I had such a good time. Thanks for the loan.”

It hopped out of the room. Sans pushed himself away from the soiled spot on the bed and curled up.

***

Sans woke up to Muffet shaking him.

“Wha…what’s going on?”

“It’s past noon, Sans. You missed—”

Sans shot up and scrambled out of bed. Muffet looked confused by his speed.

“I’m not…I’m not moping! I’m fine. I just…I just overslept a little, happens to me s-sometimes, I’ll go g-get. Breakfast. Lunch?” He laughed nervously.

“Sans?”

Muffet walked closer to him and he tripped backwards onto the bed. He held his hands up like a shield.

“no please”

“Sans, you need to calm down.”

“I’m calm…I’m calm! I’m just gonna go get food. Like you w-want me to.”

Muffet took Sans’ hands into hers. He shook.

“no no please Muffet, I’m calm. I’m calm.”

“Shh, it’s all right.”

She wrapped his wrists in webbing, securing them behind his back.

“I’m so t-tired, please, I need to eat, n-not…not…”

“It’s all right, dear, you just need to get used to this. The more you do it, the less scary it will be. I promise.”

“No please, please, just let me go eat. I’m sorry I m-missed breakfast, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!”

“This isn’t punishment, Sans. I just don’t want you to react like this every time. You have to face your fears.”

She pushed him back onto the bed.

“This won’t take long. Be good, now.”

“I’m not…fighting you. I’m b-being good. Aren’t I?”

“Yes sweetie, all right. Now, you have a new trick. How about you show it to me?”

Muffet’s smile melted into a frown as she watched Sans shiver in place.

“You can’t be that tired, dear, you slept half the day.”

“I…I can’t remember how to m-make it.”

Muffet lifted Sans’ face by the chin.

“You had better not be lying to me.”

Sans swallowed.

“i’m lying”

Muffet let go of his face.

“Oh, honey, this really isn’t such a big deal.” She rubbed a thumb under his eyes. “I wasn’t going to exhaust you. You’ve got work tonight, after all.”

“She…she was nice to me. She asked how I was.”

Muffet brushed the backs of her fingers down Sans’ face.

“Who, Shyren? Yes, she’s very thoughtful.”

“She sits with me at lunch sometimes.”

Muffet stroked Sans’ body over his clothes.

“I’m sure she still will, dear. This won’t change anything between you two. You may not be used to things here, but she is.”

“I d-d-don’t—”

Muffet tugged down Sans’ shorts. He automatically snapped his legs together, then forced himself to spread them back out.

“There you go. You are being good, there’s a dear. Make a dick now, please.”

Sans obeyed. The cock formed half-erect. Muffet pulled on latex gloves and covered them in lube while Sans waited, not daring to move.

“Just relax.”

She sat on the bed and took him into her lap, rubbing his back and supporting it at the same time with her many hands. Muffet rubbed two of her hands together and blew a hot breath into them. The hands felt lukewarm as they grabbed his cock and stroked up it, getting warmer with the friction.

After the first strokes got sans from half to fully erect, Muffet used one hand to grip and jerk him up and down. Sans squirmed.

“You’re getting much better at being touched.” She brought her face in close enough that Sans imagined she could feel the heat radiating off of his. “I know you’re trying very hard. Look at how well you’re doing.”

Sans was trying very hard. He didn’t want to think about how many times in just the last couple days that Woshua had changed his sheets.

Muffet pumped him faster. Sans jerked into the motion unevenly a few times.

“Muffet…Muffet—!”

She pet his face.

“Just let go, Sans. Nothing bad’s going to happen to you; you’re going to feel good and that’s all. Just let yourself go.”

Sans tried to imagine what letting go felt like. Not thinking about what he was doing. About other people. About hurting them—

His erection softened, and the continued tugging at it felt rough. Sans flinched.

“That h-hurts!”

Muffet immediately stopped. He could practically smell her disappointment.

“Sans, what’s the matter with you?”

Sans’ voice was quiet.

“You made me hurt her.”

“Well, it’s not like it was really you.” At Sans’ expression, she changed tack. “Oh Sans, don’t be naïve. She didn’t get hurt.” Muffet gave one more testing stroke to Sans’ cock, but it was probably clear it caused him real physical pain from the way he winced. Muffet tilted Sans’ head up to look at her. “What’s that face for?”

“please don’t drug me”

Muffet sighed. “Not this time. You’d get too tired.” She ran her hand against his thigh and stared between his legs. “You probably won’t be asked for it much anyway…all right, go on and dispel.”

Sans did, and let out a breath of relief. Muffet undid the webbing holding his wrists.

“Go start your day, then. Make sure you eat enough so you don’t fall asleep with your client, or I’ll have some more to say to you.”

Sans nodded. He badly wanted to lie back again and sleep as he was, but a helpful spike of fear moved him off the bed and through the door before Muffet could do anything else to him.

***

Sans made sure he went to the cafeteria during an off-hour. He snuck in and grabbed food without looking at it as fast as he could. He ended up with mostly an armful of donuts. He considered secreting them back to his room despite Muffet’s previous warnings not to do exactly that, but he was wary of dealing with her again today. But he didn’t want to risk seeing Shyren either if he stayed in the communal areas too long.

He got himself into a private room meant for entertaining clients and sat on the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t close the door or he’d be locked in. He shot the small opening paranoid glances as he scarfed his donuts.

A knock on the door made him jump. A tiny hand pushed it open wider, and Cecil let themselves in. They looked at him for a moment with a measured expression.

“Look, I know life has been hell for you lately, but I’ve never seen anyone cry like that while eating donuts.”

“It happens.”

“You’re getting them soggy.”

Sans threw a donut at Cecil’s face. Cecil picked it up from where it fell on the ground and brushed it off, then took a bite. A mouse after his own heart.

Cecil sat down next to Sans on the bed.

“Get out.”

Cecil got up from the bed.

“I’ll leave. I’ll go if that’s really what you want.”

Sans coughed out a sob and moved to cover his face with his hands, but ended up smooshing the donut still in his mouth into a crumble. Cecil put their hands up.

“Maybe that was…a bad way to put it. I really will leave if you want. I just think you could use a friend, and maybe you shouldn’t fight it so hard? I’m not trying to play mind games with you. I know Muffet makes you feel like you can’t make choices—”

“You don’t fucking know how I feel!”

Cecil gave him a look.

“I don’t—shit, that was stupid, obviously you know how I—I mean, that’s the problem.”

“What is?”

“I can’t…stand the way you look at me. After I’ve been in those rooms. Like you know exactly what h-happened, because you do, and…I can’t do this.”

The mouse took a step toward him. Sans cringed.

“I don’t want you to know what’s happening to me. I don’t want to know what’s happened to you. I don’t—I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t do that with anyone.”

Sans hugged his knees.

“Leave me alone.”

Cecil walked to the door. They looked over their shoulder as they exited.

“I’ll be around.”

They made sure the door was only slightly ajar as they left.

***

Sans did a better job of balancing his tray this time. When he entered the private room, though, no one was there. He heard soft footsteps behind him and felt a warm body press against his back. He froze.

“Oops, I’m late. Looks like I caught you just in time anyway. Lucky me.”

Two paws clutched Sans’ shoulders and pressed his back against an erection. Sans dropped the tray.

“Missed me that much, eh Sansy?”

Sans looked up and was treated to a string of drool hitting him between the eyes. Hot breath panted over him.

“Who’s my good doggy?”