What a day! Clothes shopping already had become a small nightmare and the very minute she had come to terms with Roger's demands what she was supposed to wear, Bruno, the security chief had ferried her to the fur stylist. Not pleasant either, but at least more relaxing, except for all the chemicals which tortured her sense of smell.

  No break after than, an express introduction for her to learn who is who of the clubs employees and now she sat on a sort of podium or pedestal which rose from the bar, about two thirds down the length of the bar. High enough so she could easily see all over the bar, the dancefloor and most of the club. Low enough that someone could approach her and talk to her. The cushion was comfortable, but according to the schedule she would sit here for four hours this night, pretending to be a scary predator. Right now half the bar stools were empty and meanwhile she felt rather bored and lonely up here.

  Ear protectors which looked just like oversized versions of her actual ears were strapped onto her head, to keep her sensitive hearing safe from the loud music in the club. She could even adjust the dampening to her own liking. They also contained speakers so she was connected to the clubs intercom and could hear if someone had to say something important. Which so far had been the occasional message from the security about patrons they wanted to keep an eye on.

  Luckily she didn't need to wear sunglasses or something to protect her eyes. The club was dark enough for her to see comfortably. In her imagination an anthro lion lookalike on a podium, pretending to be scary was just ridiculous with sunglasses. If she had to be scary, she wanted to stare at people and have them notice that she was looking right at them.

  As if the situation was not ridiculous enough already. A spotlight made her stand out from the dim surroundings. She could easily be seen from about anywhere in the club, not a single moment to do something that wasn't noticed by dozens of curious onlookers. It actually was her job to now and then do something to keep them entertained.

  So she was now looking at her claws which had gotten a makeover. Silver and shiny, contrasting strongly with the black dyed fur on her hands and forearms. Brilliant enough that everyone from all over the club could see them shine up in the spotlight. She had chosen the glossy white outfit for today, mostly because she had gotten tired of the black. Now she knew though why Roger had favored glossy, it made her stand out even more in the spotlight.

  That's what her new contract had gotten her. She had checked the contract - maybe with some sweet talking she could have refused the fur dye and the painted claws, but there was no legal protection against it. If Roger actually insisted on having her fur dyed, it would happen the one way or the other. And if she refused, she'd also lose the fifty credits allowance a week.

  She wiggled her fingers. The silver claws looked actually good on her, so she had decided not to protest that. She also could not refuse to sit on a cushion, even if it was in a spotlight on a podium in a night club as long as no one asked her to sit topless or even naked. With Roger as club owner and her guardian, she was basically at home here. At home in a night club, what irony of fate, after her fear to be confined to some boring apartment way too often.

  The only hard limits for what Roger could ask from her were that she got enough time off to do eat, drink, sleep, do sports or whatever was needed to stay healthy. Probably Roger could even have her sit two times four hours a day and tell sixteen hours off were plenty of free time. Hard to argue that, eight hour work days were quite common.

  She yawned and silver coated fangs shone in the spotlight for a moment. The next time she ate something or brushed her teeth, the color would be gone. 'Safe for consumption' the makeup artist had told her and she had been pondering if she rather wanted to bite them or Roger. Roger first, she had decided meanwhile, and later the night.

  Each employee in the club wore a collar with the letters 'Rose' on them, and hers had an integrated microphone, so she could also speak over the club's intercom if she spotted something noteworthy to tell the security. Which was her second job, besides looking scary. She had been introduced to everyone, but she just couldn't remember all their names, not even all their faces. So it helped that everyone had this sort of collar and she clearly could tell patrons from employees.

  She yawned again.

  "Hey night cat, no sleep at work", a voice sounded from her earpieces.

  Hard to mistake that voice. It was Bruno, the security chief. The one who earlier the day had brought her to the fur stylist and makeup artist for her new looks. She was pretty damn sure he'd just have bundled her up and carried her there if she had tried to refuse. On the other hand he just laughed away all sorts of problems, and his positive attitude had made the day a little more bearable even with all circumstances.

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  She tapped her collar to activate the microphone. It was coupled with some electronics to filter out the music and only transmit her voice, "Just showing my nice new fangs."

  "Boss says you get real ones soon", she heard Bruno's voice.

  Right, that was a new problem which Roger had imposed on her. Ten thousand credits if she agreed to actual body modifications which went deeper than a cosmetic fur dye and claw polish. Actual steel capped fangs. Steel claws. A more impressive snout. And leg modifications to make her stand taller, more impressive. If she decided to stand on her podium. But given how bored she felt already, she could imagine to dance for a while if the music was right. And for some inexplicable reason, Roger had suggested a breast reduction, too.

  Ten thousand credits were a lot of money. A real lot of money. She could chose some of the mods and get less, all mods and get the full sum. She probably couldn't wait very long though to make the choice. Her contract was running five years, and Roger wanted some return on his investment. He had not set a distinct deadline yet, but she was sure he wouldn't wait very long. Particularly after he had rushed her through getting the outfits, fur dye and makeup all within the afternoon. Some of the mods were things she could accept easily, like steel capped fangs, others were quite intrusive and the leg extension reminded her of the mobster's plan who had also wanted to put her through it. The only difference was that this time she would get money if the she agreed. It felt almost as abusive though.

  The music wasn't bad and the dance floor was filling slowly. Not even PM yet.

  She got up to perform a kitty stretch on the podium. It was hard to tell if someone reacted to it and she sat down again. Not in the mood to dance yet.

  Someone approached her from the dancefloor and lifted himself onto the counter top to sit right besides her podium. Was that even allowed? Well Bruno and the security would sort that out if it was a problem.

  Colors had become a stupid guessing game, to her the man's short sleeved shirt looked yellow, and his trousers a darker shade of it. Brown hair, she assumed, gray eyes and fair complexion.

  "Hey, so you're the new mascot?" The man shouted at her. She adjusted her 'ears' to reduce the dampening and hear him better.

  "Vivian's the name and yes, I'm new." Even with a good amount of practice, her voice just had no melody and remained a throaty hiss. Shouting was hard this way, and she didn't even know if it was right to talk to the man.

  "Cool voice. Is that real or a synth?" He asked.

  "Real, damaged pipes. It's how I sound now", she replied.

  "Sorry to hear. But it suits you well. I'm Stan, a friend of the boss", he smiled and gave her a curt nod.

  "Hello Stan, nice to meet you", she gave him a toothy, predator style smile in return. Why was there no message from the security?

  "Your place had been empty for quite a while. Good that Roger found someone again. For how long did you sign up?" He asked her with a new shout to be heard over the music.

  "Five years", she let him know.

  "Cool", he smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up.

  "Stan, wait a moment."

  She tapped her collar, "Bruno, do you see me? Is this ok?"

  "Seeing you clearly. Talk to Stan. Dance for him if you want to", she heard Bruno's voice.

  "Got it", she replied.

  She got into a sphinx like pose on her podium to be more on eye level with Stan, "Sorry about that. I'm new, don't know the important people yet."

  He booped her nose. She hissed.

  "Seems Roger got the right one for the job. How often will you be here?" Stan smiled at her.

  "I guess every day the club is open? Unless Roger has me do other things", she bared her silver coated fangs at the man for a moment. He had the audacity to put a finger on a fang.

  "Ah, just paint, no steel. Will you get real steel caps?" Stan sounded a bit disappointed.

  She hid her snout under her arms for a moment just to have her hair ruffled and looked at the man again with an angry flash in her eyes, "I haven't made up my mind yet. But fangs and claws seem alright. Not sure about the other mods, which Roger wants me to get."

  "What else did he offer you?"

  "Snout and leg extensions. I don't like either idea. My legs are good, snout too", her tail was swaying with slight unease as she told this.

  He nodded, "Quick question before I give advice. What sort of contract do you have? Freelancer? Employee?"

  "A companion contract", she let him know.

  "Whoa. So Roger got a real pet now?" Stan had his eyebrows risen.

  "I guess?" It was hard to shrug in a sphinx pose.

  "Make it a deal then. Have him accept a ten year contract with better conditions for you, and you take the mods for him. Gives you more security", he suggested.

  "Hey night cat, enough talk. The people want to see some action there", she heard Bruno's voice again.

  She tapped her collar to open the line, "The name's Vivian!"

  "Be a good kitty and give them some dance!" Came the reply.

  She hissed for a moment then got up, just to bow down and grab Stan at both his upper arms to lift him onto the podium as well. A quick kick sent the cushion off the podium.

  "Hey!" He protested.

  "Bruno wants me to dance. Dance with me and make him jealous", she let Stan know.

  She rose her arms and began to move to the music, soon to feel his hands at her waist while he moved his body in sync with hers, and she gave him a satisfied, toothy grin, "Yep. Make him regret that", then she put her forearms loosely onto his shoulders and leaned in to touch his nose with her snout.

  "What about Roger?", Stan asked.

  "I'll be with him all night. Pretty sure he'll be ok with it if we make a good show now", she smiled and moved her hips briefly against his.

  Someone whistled with their fingers. A second spotlight was trained on them.

  "Seems we've got some fans", she bared her silver fangs at Stan, which sparkled in the spotlight.

  "Vivian, get the mods and the ten year contract please", Stan rubbed her sides a little.

  "I'll talk to Roger next morning", she let him know and gave his nose a nudge with her snout.