The building stood out because it was grand and surprisingly well maintained. He assumed a whorehouse would lack class, but this place was drowning in it.
Compared to the other facilities and buildings he came across on his journey, the Foxhole definitely didn't look like a place that belonged in the E district.
It made sense now. Why men, and women from several districts higher would come down to this hellhole to get their beaks wet. And all this just from seeing the outside.
The building had a neon sign above the entrance that glowed a deep, sultry red, shaped like a fox's head with eyes that seemed to track passersby.
And the exterior was clean, the windows covered with dark curtains that hinted at secrets within.
Kurt took his hands out his pocket, ruffled his already messy dirty-blonde hair, and stepped inside.
As soon as he stepped in, the interior hit him like a wave. Dim lighting, red and gold accents, the scent of perfume and smoke mingling in the air. It was too much stimuli to take in at once.
Music played low in the background, something slow and sensual. The walls were lined with plush seating, and the floor was polished wood that reflected the glow of the chandeliers overhead.
But it was the glimpses that caught Kurt's attention.
As he moved deeper into the establishment, he passed open doorways, each one offering a snapshot he was both pleased and disturbed by.
The first room held a woman on her knees, her dark skin glistening with sweat under the low light.
Her full lips stretched obscenely around a client's thick length, saliva dripping down her chin as she bobbed her head, and the wet sounds of her throat working filled the narrow hallway.
The sensation appeared to be so intense by the way the client's head was thrown back with his mouth open in a silent groan.
Kurt's eyes lingered a moment too long before he forced himself to keep moving. More surprised by why the door was left open.
He passed another door and stopped cold when he got a glimpse of a fully grown man, muscled, tattooed all over and easily twice his size, lay on his back wearing nothing but an oversized diaper.
His legs kicked in the air like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Above him, a giant naked woman straddled his chest, her skin red and smooth except for the two curved horns jutting from her temples.
She patted his head gently, cooing in a sing-song voice. "That's right, sweetheart. Say it for Mommy."
"Mommy," the man whimpered as he grabbed her large, soft breasts, spilling through his fingers, and latched onto one nipple, milk dribbling down his chin, then switching to another.
Kurt blinked. It was indeed a strange sight, but what really got his attention wasn't the diaper or the roleplay, no.
It was the fact that the huge lady had three breasts. And then there were the horns. Curved, dark and unmistakably not human.
He hadn't seen anyone like her since... well, since he'd woken up with no memory. He hadn't even known someone like her existed, or most likely forgot.
And what was it with people doing their business with an open door? Was it some advertisment scheme to get new customers who wandered into their establishment in the mood? Or did some of the clients get off even more by being seen?
Kurt was still processing everything, when the next doorway hit him like a slap. Inside was a man on all fours, blindfolded and chained at the wrists and ankles. His body trembled, sweat dripping down his spine, and he cried out, not in pain, but in raw, shameless pleasure.
Behind him, a woman with feline ears and a long, twitching tail wore a black lingerie with strategic holes cut out to expose her nipples.
Her breasts swayed as she moved one hand gripping a thick dildo, and with a sharp thrust, she drove it deep into the man.
"You come when I say, trash," the cat-lady purred, her voice conveying authority as her tail lashed behind her, almost hypnotic in its movement.
Kurt turned his head sharply, his hand rubbing his face. The cat lady's demeanor sort of reminded him of Cassandra and the thought of Cassandra in that outfit sent shivers down his spine. "Right. Didn't need to see that."
But even as he averted his gaze, his mind was still processing. 'Cat ears and a tail.' He'd seen two of whatever they were in the span of thirty seconds, and both had been working here like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Kurt made a mental note to ask someone, anyone, about this later. But right now, he had a different kind of intel to gather. The kind that didn't involve diapers, dildos, or women with three tits.
He took a steadying breath, adjusted his coat, and continued deeper into the Foxhole.
***
A woman approached him almost immediately. She was tall, dark-skinned, her curves spilling from a red dress that clung to her tightly.
Her hips swayed as she moved, and her smile was slow and inviting. "First time here, handsome?" she purred, trailing a finger down his chest.
Kurt grinned. "That obvious?"
"A little," she said, leaning closer to overwhelm his sense of smell with her intoxicating perfume. "You looking for company?"
"Nothing I would love more," Kurt said with a smooth voice. "But right now, I'm looking for information."
Her smile faltered slightly. "Information?"
"About a client of yours," Kurt said. "Big guy? Goes by Braun Ironside? Comes here regularly?"
The woman's expression shifted immediately, and she stepped back, crossing her arms. "I don't know anyone by that name."
Kurt caught wind of this and raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I heard he's a regular."
"You heard wrong," she said flatly, and turned to walk away.
Kurt tried again with another woman, a petite blonde in a sexy lingerie, her breasts barely contained, nipples pressing against the thin fabric.
She batted her eyelashes at him, running her hands down his arms.
"You're cute," she said seductively. "What's your name?"
"Kurt," he answered, matching her energy. "And you're stunning. Got a name?"
"Candy," she said, giggling. "You want to have some fun, Kurt?"
"I do," Kurt said, leaning in. "But first, I need to ask you something. You fancy a man by the name Braun? Big bloke, comes here a lot. Probably drinks too much and talks too much."
Candy's smile disappeared and she pulled her hands back. "I don't know who you're talking about."
"Come on, love—"
"I said I don't know," Candy snapped, and walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Kurt tried a third time, a mixed-race woman with tattoos snaking up her arms that reminded him of Emma and piercing green eyes that locked onto his the moment he approached.
She was leaning against the bar, a drink in her hand, and she looked him up and down like she was deciding whether to eat him alive.
"You're persistent," she said, smirking.
"Occupational hazard," Kurt grinned. "You're gorgeous, by the way."
"I know," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "What do you want?"
"Information," Kurt said. "But I'm guessing you already knew that." He stepped closer. "You know, it's considered improper to eavesdrop."
Her smirk vanished as she set her drink down and leaned in close, whispering, "Listen carefully, pretty boy. You're asking questions that'll get you hurt. We don't talk about clients. Ever. Especially not him."
"Why not?" Kurt asked.
"Because Madam Imelda says so," she said. "And because Silver Tail doesn't take kindly to prying eyes. You keep asking, and you won't make it out of here in one piece."
She walked away, leaving Kurt standing alone at the bar.
"Bloody hell. This is going to be harder than I thought." He sighed, rubbing his face. He was going to have to change his approach to things or perhaps rely on his not so shitty luck to come through again.