From Wangdu Central Square, Boulevard stretches west. This is the heart of the pleasure district, and most of your three houses and advanced whorehouses are built facing the street.
In a narrow alley a few miles south of there was a newly opened whorehouse.
"Whorehouse School"
A businessman known to have that person in the Hanayo world. "Windy Clouds in the Industry" is a fully furnished shop.
Under a bright sky, a dim alley. In front of a whorehouse school, a boy who doesn't move while standing. From where I'm wearing my uniform, I guess I'm going back to school.
(What brings you so far, but isn't it too cheap?
Although I chose it for the price, it became more worrying just before.
"A Woman Can't Wait To Want"
If you're in your mid-teens, everyone should be the same. But there is no money for a boy who only earns money to go to a whorehouse, whether he is a junior or not.
What seems to work out is about a go-go bar or an assisted coffee shop, both of which are a group of women as private businesses. To raise it cheap, you need the right amount of skill.
"The price depends on the negotiation. After I take them out, they ask me to eat and shop, but I take them to the rest stop."
Seeking this from a boy would be cruel. His whorehouse experience is only once.
He was also aware that the only choice was the 'lucid accounting, I can complain to the concierge' whorehouse.
(I want to, but I don't have any money)
It was yesterday that I received a flyer in Central Square, bored by that thought.
As a whorehouse, he rounded his eyes on the value of breaking. He went home and slapped the safe and made sure it was enough. Had it not been for the curfew, it would have jumped straight out.
(No, it should be okay. Yeah, I'm sure it's okay)
The boy steps into the store with a sachet containing silver and copper coins in his pocket in the form of a push against his back by desire.
But seeing what's going on indoors, hopes are getting more squishy anxiety.
(Totally different from the store I went to before)
What I imagined was a chick with beautiful women sitting on it. The only thing in front of me, by contrast, is a lean, tired old man sitting on an old wooden counter and a door in the back of the room.
The boy remembers the last time as he approached the counter with surprise.
"I have to graduate."
This is a word emanating from a lightly drunk father about six months ago, in the evening. On the night of graduating from Middle School, the boy follows his father's back to the pleasure district.
"This store. Don't get lost in front of the chicks and bother other customers."
The whorehouse I entered was inferior, but the shock the boy suffered was extremely great.
In Tauro's previous life, for example, it would be comparable to 'the child who was first taken to a global theme park'.
(That was lovely)
The mother, who welcomed the boy home after graduating safely, burst into laughter at the face moisturizing her eyes like a maiden.
His parents naturally say, 'I want to go again,' when he was distracted enough to soil his underwear in his dream. But the answer is, 'Go yourself'.
Since then, he has encouraged study, helped more with household chores, and won a penny increase.
(I saved it up, it's all property.)
Back from the memories, touch the sachet from the top of your trousers.
Even if it's not a big amount for an adult man, it's a lot of money for a boy. You won't even be able to be vigilant.
You realize it or not, a skinny, tired, middle-aged man opens his mouth with a giggling grin.
"Welcome. Welcome aboard."
As it was, I started explaining the store's system.
"The in-store accommodation fee and the optional two-piece package are available"
The old man, placed on the counter, with a blue bill lowering from his neck with a string and palms to a paper ticket.
A tag with a string is an admission permit, and he says it starts to turn red shortly after he knocks at the back door. It turns bright red in roughly two hours and seems to run out of time when it suddenly changes to black.
"The interior is in school format, with female teachers and female students taking classes. Is the customer's position invisible?"
For this reason, you can prank all you want. However, we should not expect reactions such as "touched and surprised by transparent humans" because we only treat them as "things that are not there".
"I don't mind seeing it, touching it from the top of my clothes, and exposed skin such as my thighs. But you can't take it off or scratch it in your underwear."
From there it's optional and I need tickets. They say it's about enough per sheet, whatever you do, whatever you let them do.
"However, for female teachers, you will receive triple tickets."
Surprisingly, this whorehouse is also a real school and will get a decent graduation qualification.
I guess I set the female teacher at a high price because when guests flock, it stops being a class.
(I see)
It's cheap because it's half school. In the boy who somehow guesses why, the anxiety he was feeling replaces hope.
"Okay. Now please give me a blue bill and a ticket."
After a little worrying, the boy raising his face and telling him.
The amount of the flyer was the base price and did not include the option. Buy one ticket and your wallet will be completely empty.
"Plenty of time. Enjoy the entrance fee, and finally skip it with a ticket"
But to be satisfied, this is the only way, and there is no point in coming in incomplete combustion. He thought and made up his mind.
"Thank you. Okay, here you go."
A boy who receives bills and tickets from a middle-aged man, turns the strings around his neck and lowers the bills to his chest. Next, he put the ticket in his trouser pocket and pushed the back door open.
What followed beyond the door was a windowless hallway not so long. There was a drawer next to the poke, so I'll open it.
The boy, who saw the sight in the back, leaked a convincing voice in his heart.
(It's definitely school)
Twenty desks, four horizontal and five vertical, lined up in a murderous large room. In all of this, girls in sailor-style uniforms are sitting recently.
The boy came in, the door behind the classroom. Beyond her back, with a line of bras floating around her thin sailor clothes, a makeup thick teacher, supposedly in her thirties, was holding a teaching whip.
(also has a few customers)
About four male guests sit in a chair with female students on their own laps. If you look sideways as you walk around the corner of the classroom toward the blackboard, the girls students push their voices to death and take notes, even as they rub both breasts.
I guess this is the treatment of 'what's not there'.
(Over here, too)
Look from the side. Okay, but there are guys diving under the desk, too. From grandfather to about the same age as myself, age varies.
Moving on to the blackboard, it turns out that there are guests in the table as well. He stuck his head inside the mid waist teacher's skirt, pushing his face against the base and moving his head left and right.
(I thought the end of the story was weird)
He grabbed both sides of the table with his hands and gave textbook descriptions with strange accents.
Teacher opponents need three tickets, but if it's a range of things to do with the admission fee, I guess the treatment is the same as for female students.
(Hey, me too)
Look at the faces of all the female students from the front and go to the girl you most prefer without a guest.
Being in sight and not responding was like being a transparent person and fresh.
(Can I get you up?)
The girl lifts her hips as if she doesn't weigh in when she puts her hands under both armpits and lifts them. They follow the customer's intentions, although they treat it as' what's not there '.
As the boy sat down in his chair, he sat her down on his knees too, as the young man next to him was doing.
(... looks like he's rubbing his classmate's chest)
Plus, the other guy, the kid of choice. No, in quality terms, above her in the same class I care about.
He wraps the breasts of such a female student with both hands and enjoys the elasticity. As a flavoring of play, it would be quite something.
(You can tell even from the top of your clothes. The top is getting stiff)
I know you're patient, but every time you open and close your hands, the thin body that you can hold on to is shuddered. I also know that you are breathing shallower and faster because you are in contact with me.
The occasional leaking voice and the sound of spitting over and over again made the boy's feelings even more elevated.
(Ah)
No, no, no. To the feel of his ass being moved, the boy bursts with his pants on.
When she imitated, she glanced at the face of a girl student roughly beside her, but the girl's eyes remained pointed at the desk's notebook. But somehow, he wrote something that had nothing to do with the class.
"Did you feel good?
Obviously, it's against me.
For a moment, he replies with his voice, but thoughtfully, laying his own hands on a small, slippery hand with a pen.
"Yeah, very"
When I write that, I laugh happily and crunchily. I couldn't wait to see him, even though it was the beginning, seizurely determined.
Let me use your ticket.
Whispering in her ear and removing a piece of paper from her pocket, the female student receives it and chips it with her machine eyes.
Shortly afterwards, a blue bill lowered from his neck slowly began to flash.
"Sooner or later, when the chickens stop, it's over."
about ten minutes until then. Whatever you want me to do, it's invincible time.
Boy pulls down his own pants with dirty pants and puts up a girl's skirt. Pulling one side out of his leg, he protruded his groin, which did not lose any hardness even when it erupted.
"Mmm."
A girl with a cuddly thin voice and a boy who rocks his grabbed thin hips up and down as he craves. The young man next to him smiles calmly.
As soon as I walked in, I said, "Are you all right?" It would show the suspicion and the understanding that "But in that year, I can't stand it."
"... Huh! Thank you. That was great."
In the ten minutes of ticket time, the boy threw out his desire. He can't afford to give it back, even if he speaks to a female student at the end, because of the one-sided blame for being overflowing with youth.
Standing in the pull-out seat and putting her back in the chair, the girl stuck her face to her desk.
(No more tickets, but plenty of time left. Enjoy watching and touching)
Four shots in a short time, if you include unintentional firing. Having regained his spare time in his heart, he walks in the classroom looking for his next pleasure.
He switched from midway to crawling on all fours, laddering between raw legs that forest under his desk.
(Good, not bad. You like this)
Save a few months and you can come back. With joy in the matter, I turn my skirt under my desk, stick my face in, and sometimes float and nod my face and breathe into my developing chest.
(... not good)
But here, the sweetness of the boy's reading is exposed. No matter how many times I put him out, it was too irritating for him to be a teenager.
The situation was exactly as the youth had feared earlier.
(I'm dying to do it again)
But I've already consumed tickets, and I don't have enough money to buy them.
And I was whispered by a girl student earlier, but rubbing her body for masturbation purposes seems not nice.
Earlier, you said it was an outbreak.
She doesn't mind doing it herself, so she also has the means to "fall asleep between the girls' legs and handle it herself" and "entertain the girls' breasts with one hand while entertaining her own with the other".
(But hey)
The girls and the teachers are not the only ones here.
The boy was not advanced enough to be able to masturbate publicly in front of a few male customers.
(uhm)
As a result, the boy had to go home with more trouble than he had to when he came.
That night, he argued, "I want you to admit to working part-time," and made his parents make a reluctant look at him thinking, "Students for real is a study."
Time here, roll back for a few hours or so.
A lean, tired, middle-aged man who loosens his cheeks after the back door closed to hide the boy's back.
In fact, this person is the owner of the whorehouse school, "Windy Clouds in the Industry".
Why is he sitting on the counter when he's not so much on the table as a manager? I guess that's because I'm inclined to this whorehouse with an unparalleled passion.
(Will you enjoy it? I'd like to hear your thoughts later)
The reason we broke up a little bit is because we keep people like boys who don't have the money they can freely afford, on the main target.
It seemed optimal to see the reaction.
"Get a quality whorehouse to you at an affordable price"
This is his philosophy. 'It would be okay if the quality dropped a little because it would significantly lower the value' will not be tolerated.
Regardless of whether all the whorehouses run satisfy the creed, the idea itself would be value engineering itself.
(If successful, the worker and the customer, both should be happy. Please go well)
All the workers I gathered were in their mid-teens. I'm old enough to hang from middle school to high school.
Their appearance is not at the top of the class.
(If you're an idol at school, there's a voice from the whorehouse)
In that case, the store will nurture them with care and make them wear them well, from customer service to the skills of men and women.
But the girls here aren't. Even if they sell in from themselves because they are not scouted, they are mostly dropped due to lack of strength.
(Some hands are apprenticeships, arms up, and then retry, but time is up)
In "School by day, Whorehouse by night" the physical and psychological strain is too great to hope for good results with day and night.
As a result, I had to give up my dream of working in a whorehouse.
(But not here. polish the moves of men and women, while also being able to complete academics)
'Whorehouse School' because it merged school and whorehouse.
Tuition and uniforms are free, although salaries are cheap. The aunts who graduated from the whorehouse will be given plenty of instruction and will also be given a place to try it in action.
According to middle-aged businessmen, it's not a bad work environment.
(I'm not really stretching my legs, but this time they'll stick)
Although I tried to open the store, it closed for a short period of time if the customer didn't want to come in. He's a fast judge of 'loss cutting', but I'm willing to put up with him only here.
(I also want to live up to those people's expectations, and most importantly, one of the answers to my ideals is here)
That's a conversation with two strange men who inspired me to start this whorehouse.
He is a man of thirty paths and a large, muscular youth, whom he met when his imagination was exhausted and he was rinsing drinks in the lobby of a samurai whorehouse.
"Ideal Whorehouse"
As we talked about it, ideas overflowed from each other's insides, and whorehouse schools took shape.
(After that, I added my own ideas)
Talk with your heart, the wind clouds of the industry.
That is to give the title of "Temporary Instructor" to customers who have become regular and whose arms have been recognized by the store.
As one of our favorite professions, "The Tutor," we can season our female students to their own taste.
(You don't just come and play. I also have the pleasure of raising them)
I'm sure the pleasure zone will make me breeze fresh.
Thinking about it, he was a wind cloud child in the industry who narrowed his eyes.
Unusual. This is an accomodation town halfway between the Kingdom Awok and the Imperial Landburn.
This is where the Expeditionary Army, once led by the Marquis of the Empire, was based, but has been returned to the Kingdom after its withdrawal.
"Ooh, it's been a while. Back to Awok?
"Oh. Are you going to be Landburn?
In one of the inn's large baths, the two youths were kind enough to exchange words.
Both are kingdom merchants and regular golem bus passengers. But one is on his way home from putting together a business meeting in Landburn, and the other is on his way to sell the sample in one hand.
And it came to pass from the kingdom that flights up and down happened to arrive on the same day, and they were encountered in the inn.
"... Wow, we're together again. Right here, don't get me started."
The two of them were talking about recent developments with their bodies soaked in the tub, but the young man heading to Landburn distorted his face and spewed words small.
If the other followed that gaze, it was two men, just sitting side by side in the shower between the walls.
(Wow, that's an awesome wound)
There were countless parallel lines on this fat, middle-aged, wide back, like nails.
To the young man on the way home from business who stares in surprise, the young man on his way carries on the word.
"They're doing it in the carriage."
Anything fat middle-aged says he keeps his bearded shaving marks blue thirty road man kneeling between his legs and serving with his mouth.
"I don't want to blame you for your taste, but I want you to go to the inn room."
He hasn't noticed anything but him in the same row because he sits in the back corner seat, covers his knees and hides them.
"Me neither, I didn't know until I was on my way. Not once you realize it. Sleep tight."
From whispering conversations, water sounds, early summer woodlike scents. They're going to feel sharp about everything and pick it up.
Guess from its content, the scratchy old man is coaching you how to wear your lips and tongue.
That's it, the young man who was in Landburn until this morning opens his mouth.
"Maybe it's the other guy's lawyer. Landburn because there are so many hobbyists in that hand"
Until recently, the Rose Knights were stationed in the ruling Landburn of Borderline Uncle.
The impact, he said, has also increased among the inhabitants.
"I'm talking about some specialty aid coffee shops, and why don't you visit them once? Maybe we'll get some new values."
Though I've never been there before, I can smell a lie in a word added, a young man going to Landburn.
I felt like I saw an interest in myself in the back of their eyes, and I said, "Why don't you drink in the room after this?"