Christmas Storm (Patreon)

“Ugh, I can’t believe I had to work on a Saturday,” Brandon said as he made his way through the office parking lot in a complete blizzard. He could barely see where he was going and trying to keep hold of the package he’d brought with him was making his arms go numb. Finally, he found his car and tried to fumble with the keys but was having a lot of trouble thanks to the numbness and cold.

"Hey you! You'll freeze out there. Come in!"

Across the way, barely visible, a woman stood in the doorway of a first floor apartment. She was a total stranger, but his hands were red, and he couldn’t even feel the keys in his fingers anymore. Might not be the worst idea to at least warm up for a moment.

“God, thank you, I thought I was going to die,” Brandon said as he stepped into the apartment. He was struck by how welcoming and warm it was. The furniture was luxurious, red satin curtains lined the tall windows, and everywhere he looked there was a candle burning. Most of all it was warm. He loved that fact the most.

However, what really caught his eye was the girl in front of him. She had cat ears and a long tail, five big breasts and four arms. She was dressed in a skimpy nightgown and a fluffy robe, both of which were very low cut and showed plenty of cleavage.

“Oh, I’m sorry! It looks like I interrupted something,” Brandon said. He was finally warming up enough to be able to formulate coherent thoughts again.

"Not at all. I had a couple of clients today, but the weather prevented most of them from coming,” the woman said as she put water on to boil. “By the way, my name is Helen.”

"A pleasure, my name is Brandon," he replied. "So you are, uh, a masseuse?"

“Yes, among other things I also do massages,” Helen said with a smile.

“Oh, I see,” Brandon said and finally connected the dots. “You're an… escort?”

Helen laughed. “Thanks for trying to put it nicely. I'm a prostitute.”

“Oh, I see,” Brandon said, settling awkwardly into a chair.

“Hey, don’t worry. I haven't done anything really dirty…in that chair,” Helen said with a sly smile.

Brandon blushed and stammered over his words. “Oh, no, I wasn’t…I mean that…” he took a breath. “I’ve never been in a…brothel? I’m sorry I don’t know what to call your…office?”

"I don't really have a name for it. Let's just say it's my home office. Does that bother you?"

"It's just…it’s a new experience for me is all. I don’t want to seem ungrateful when you just saved me from the freezing cold.”

“You're just lucky I happened to look out my door when I did,” Helen said. “So, you've never been with a prostitute? Or do you mean you haven't been with a mutant prostitute?"

"I've never been with a prostitute, neither a normie nor a mutant," said Brandon. He was still nervous, but she was so calm and nonchalant about everything it put him a bit at ease.

"I don't believe you. How old are you?"

“I'm 34, and I’ve been with my partner for several years,” Brandon replied.

“That doesn't exempt you from needing a little external outlet,” Helen said.

“Eh it’s not really my thing. Do you like doing this?” Brandon asked.

“Well, I'm very good at it,” Helen said as she stretched out in her chair. She parted her robe just enough so that all five of her breasts were clearly visible. Only thin a fabric covered them, but Brandon could see the outline of every single one clearly. He swallowed hard and couldn’t deny that Helen was very beautiful.

“Just because you're good doesn't mean you should do. Why do you do it?” Brandon asked.

Helen shrugged. "It's a job like any other. It pays the bills"

"But don't you feel like you're selling yourself?" Brandon asked.

"Everyone has to sell something for a living," Helen replied. "You sell your time and skills in an office. I sell my time and physical contact with my body. It's just a matter of what you're comfortable with."

Brandon had to admit that he had never thought about it that way. "Sorry, I didn't mean to judge you."

"Let me guess. You're a guy who has a hard time having one night stands,” Helen said as the kettle let out a high pitch screech. Helen deliberately leaned too far forward, flashing a few of her breasts, as she rose to go get it.

“Well, now that you mention it. Yes, that's true. Are you a psychologist too?”

“Masseuse, call girl, psychologist, and a barista too,” Helen said as she poured Brandon a cup of coffee using both of her right hands. "Trust me… a lot of my clients are guys that need to be heard. And you learn to read people fairly well in this line of work."

“I can believe it. It is nice having someone who will listen to you,” Brandon said.

“It sounds like you've had some sad days,” Helen said, moving closer to Brandon. “would you like to talk about it?”

"Depends. What will it cost me?"

“It’s on the house,” Helen said as she sipped her coffee. “Let me guess. You broke up with your girlfriend this week."

"Two months ago,” Brandon said as he too sipped the hot liquid.

"Two months? Geez. How you been holding up?” Helen asked as she slowly crossed her legs. The light fabric of her night dress wasn’t long enough to cover them.

“It's not too terrible,” Brandon said. He almost felt like he was on a therapist’s couch.

“Choking the chicken, so to speak?” Helen's face broke into a mocking smile.

“…yes, basically,” he said a little embarrassed.

“What about you? Are you happy doing what you do? Plan to continue it for a long time?”

“I haven't thought about it," Helen said as she looked at her mug and swirled around the tiny bit of remaining coffee. "Have you thought about how long you'll continue in your job?"

Brandon nodded. “This job was always meant to be a stepping stone, something to let me build up a little savings so I could do something that actually brought me happiness," he sighed. "Well, that was 10 years ago though."

"Your story isn’t very different mine. That’s all this job was meant to be for me, too. Though I’m not waiting on any kind of white knight to save me.”

"Really? Not even if you found a partner and they wanted you to stop?” Brandon asked. He couldn’t help staring at her beautiful body.

“Oh, were you going to make me some kind of a proposal after only knowing me for an hour?” Helen said, looking him up and down.

“Wha-? I…no, it's nothing like that,” Brandon said, blushing.

Helen laughed again. “You're really funny… in a good way,” Helen said. “I only said I wasn’t waiting for a white knight. Not that I wouldn’t consider an offer from one if given. I try not to close myself off to anything.”

Brandon nodded and a gentle silence fell between them. The tv in the background was saying how the storm might last all night and both were focused on it. "Damn, this is serious," Brandon said.

"Hey, don't worry. I didn’t have any plans for Christmas Eve. I have no family to visit and no appointments the rest of the day.”

"In that case, we are on the same boat," Brandon said, opening the package he’d brought with him. Inside was a gingerbread house.

"Wow, that’s beautiful. It’s bee a long time since I saw one of those. Do you want to share it?

“It's the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality.”

"Brilliant. I have some eggnog we can have with it!” Helen said and skittered to the kitchen to retrieve it.

The two of them sat on Helen's soft sofa and watched old Christmas movies while eating gingerbread cookies and drinking punch. At one point, Helen rested her head on Brandon's shoulder and wrapped both of her left arms around his right.

“Hey, thanks for saving me and Merry Christmas,” Brandon said suddenly at the end of one of the movies.

"You don’t have to thank me. You're my good deed for the year,” Helen said, “Besides, it's nice to have someone to spend Christmas Eve with. And hey, you even have a story to tell your coworkers on Monday.”

“Yeah, I'm sure they'll understand,” Brandon said with a laugh.

Helen plucked a mistletoe-shaped piece of fondant from the gingerbread house and placed it on Brandon’s forehead. Before he could react, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Wh-what was that?" Brandon said surprised.

“Oh nothing. Just a little kiss under the mistletoe,” Helen said with a laugh.

“I'm not complaining, it was just surprising…” Brandon said.

Helen stood up and held out one of her many hands to Brandon. "I'm going to go lie down, do you want to come with?"

Brandon looked at her for a moment. “By come with do you mean…?”

“I think you could use a little pleasure with someone instead of just 'making the bald man cry’,” Helen said.

“Your euphemisms kill me,” Brandon said with a laugh. “But I don't know…”

“We are spending Christmas Eve together, it’s not like I’m some stranger. I like you and as I told you earlier, there’s no charge.”

Brandon looked at the beautiful mutant woman in front of him. He watched as her five full breasts rose and full under her nightgown and her tail swayed gently behind her. Maybe it was a good idea to try something new. He took her hand and followed her.

The next morning the storm had stopped, and the streets were full of snow. Brandon woke up with his head resting on Helen's many breasts.

"Good morning! Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yeah, I don't remember the last time I slept so well," he replied.

“I told you I was good,” Helen said as she sat up and stretched.

An hour later they were standing at Helen’s front door as Brandon was preparing to leave. “Thanks again,” he said. “Now that I think about it, you took a big risk letting a stranger in.”

“I mean it’s not like I can’t defend myself,” Helen said as she raised all four hands, showing her sharp claws. “You took a risk too. You could have woken up in a bathtub without one of your kidneys,” Helen said laughing along with Brandon. But if you need any of my services, you could come by after work. I’m only two blocks away after all. You just have to let me know."

"I’ll think about it," Brandon said, smiling. “Though how can I reach you?” Helen handed him a card with her name and number on it. “Stormy?”

“That’s what I go by,” Helen said, blushing for the first time.

“It's funny that I was saved from a storm by another storm,” he said with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about. In January I’m going to quit my job. I don’t want to keep waiting and have regrets."

Helen just smiled. “Well, if you start your own business, I might decide to come help you,” she said.

“I'll take your word for it,” Brandon said as he walked out the door. He couldn't help but feel grateful to Helen for the unexpected conversation and new understanding they'd shared.