The night dragged on, and I managed to stumble through waitressing without screwing up too badly.
The dress clung to me like a second skin, the apron a clumsy shield against the stares of the tavern's patrons—those horned, tailed women and the occasional futafolk with their unsettling bulges.
My feet ached, my new body protested, but I kept the beers flowing.
By the time the last customer staggered out, the moon hung high, casting silver light through the grimy windows.
I shuffled to the bar, apron in hand, ready to call it quits.
The raccoon-eared owner—still stunning, still intimidating—watched me with those sharp eyes.
"Done for the night?" she asked, her tail flicking.
I nodded, holding out the apron.
"Just leave it behind the counter," she said, sliding open a drawer.
I turned to obey, my mind already on a bed, when my foot caught on the uneven floor.
I flailed, and a bottle of wine crashed to the ground, shattering in a crimson puddle.
Her face twisted in horror.
"You clumsy fool!" she shrieked, slamming the drawer shut.
"That's a gold coin's worth of wine! You'll pay for it!"
"A gold coin?!" I stammered, my voice cracking.
"Take it from my pay—whatever I earned today!"
She crossed her arms, her ears flattening.
"Your salary was ten silver coins. A gold coin is worth ten times that. You'll need to work here nine more days just to cover it."
My stomach sank.
Nine days of this?
"Fine," I muttered, rubbing my temples.
"But can I at least get a bed? I'm exhausted."
Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed to the door.
"No beds for you. I'm not risking you breaking more of my stock. Get out and sleep outside!"
She shooed me like a stray dog, her tail lashing.
Defeated, I dragged myself out, the cold night air hitting me like a slap.
I wandered into a narrow alley, my pink dress snagging on rough stone.
Tired, dejected, and starving, I was ready to collapse when a glowing building caught my eye.
One Night Bond, the sign read, its neon light pulsing.
Through the windows, I saw sexy monster girls—horns, tails, scales—in BDSM poses that made my skin crawl.
Then, a coin symbol hovered before me, flashing 20 silver coins.
My breath hitched.
"What the hell does that mean?" I muttered.
The system's voice cut in, cold and unfeeling.
This is the minimum you can earn by engaging in the activities offered within. Maximum earnings are unlimited, depending on the extent of your participation.
A shiver raced up my spine, dread mixing with the gnawing hunger in my gut.
Sex dungeons.
This was one of them.
The idea repulsed me, but the promise of money—and a way out of this debt—tugged at my thoughts.
"How am I even supposed to pay for it?" I snapped.
"I've got nothing!"
The system paused, then chimed.
One-time bonus granted: 1 gold coin. Credited to your account. Warning: Do not use it to pay for the wine bottle. Repeating this cycle will trap you indefinitely.
The screen blinked out, leaving me staring at a single gold coin materializing in my hand, its weight heavy with temptation.
I glanced at the coin, then at the glowing One Night Bond.
My throat tightened as I gulped.