Page 294 of Evil Hearts

MONSTER F*CKER

R.K. PIERCE

Chapter One

Kade

They call meMonster Fucker, but that wasn’t always the case.

Before I was forced to serve in this hellhole for eternity, I would have rather cut off my shape-shifting cock than ever stick it in a monster.

Now, it’s my job.

My reputation.

My punishment.

That’s what an over-inflated ego and a bad deal get you. Your worst nightmare becomes your everyday reality, and there’s nothing you can do but accept your fate and submit to the torture.

Dying isn’t an option when you’re immortal.

“Get up, Monster Fucker,” a three-legged beast with barbed horns snarls from the other side of the cell door. “Your services are required this evening.”

Of course they are.

They’re required every evening.

Whether it’s the monster mistress who runs the elaborate brothel or one of the clients who frequents the place, they always request my company.

In a different situation, I might be impressed. Flattered, even. But it’s hard to find pleasure in something that makes your skin crawl.

“Now,” the monster growls, making the hair on my arms stand up.

“I’m coming.” I roll out of bed with a huff, my feet meeting the cool cement floor, and stretch my arms above my head. “Calm down, Sparky.”

He glares at me through the metal bars, his red eyes flickering with a hint of his flame power. When he replaced the last guard, who I’d affectionately nicknamed Asshole, he singed my eyebrow off over a joke about his third leg. He didn’t find it as funny as someone in the mortal realm might.

Sparky’s a real fuckstick.

“I’ll be back shortly to collect you,” he growls before turning and disappearing down the hall.

I groan and do my best to mentally prepare myself for tonight’s session.

The room I live in doesn’t look like a prison cell, but the barred door is a constant reminder of that exact truth. It’s a cage, where I’m meant to spend the rest of forever unless I’m with a client.

There’s a queen-sized bed, dressed in blue linens with two overly-stuffed pillows that’s comfortable enough. A wardrobe that houses a menagerie of kink outfits stands against the far wall, and a small television sits on a table in the corner. In the wall opposite of the barred entryway, there is a wooden door with a heavy gold doorknob that leads to a bathroom.

Knowing I haven’t bathed today, I head straight for the shower.

The bathroom is about as decent as my bedroom. Everything is tiled, including the ceiling, and there is no shower stall or curtain. A shower head protrudes from one of the walls, drenching most of the surfaces in the bathroom when in use, and a toilet sits in the corner. There is no sink.

After I shower and scrub my skin with a bar of lumpy green soap, I snatch a slightly damp towel off a hook on the wall and run it over the wettest parts of me. The rest can air dry. I hang the cloth back up and head for my room butt naked to decide on tonight’s attire.

When I first arrived at the brothel, I was modest and afraid of the beasts lurking in the corridors who could easily peer through the barred door into my room. Now, nearly everyone in this place has seen me naked, and I couldn’t care less if some passerby catches sight of my butt cheek or ball sack.

I tug open the door to the lightly-stained wardrobe and scan over the clothes hanging there. Aside from a few pairs of pants and shirts that the mistress graciously let me have, everything else is made of chains, leather, and very little cloth. There are some masks and props that I occasionally pull out based on the client’s preferences, but most of the time they’re more enticed by my shape-shifting abilities.

I’m the human who’s also not a human. At the drop of a hat, I can transform into anyone’s ideal partner. Anyone’s ultimate desire. Extra hands, extra dicks. There’s no limit to the fantasy scenes I can create, and monsters flock from all over for the opportunity to sleep with me.

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