'What about me makes you think I'm cut out for construction work?" Frey mused, suddenly looming directly behind Phoebe.
They were nude as they almost always were, their features a dazzling triumph of the heights of sexual fantasy; just what those features were depended on who was looking, of course. Even in other areas of the building, like where Ronin, Remi, and Harper were, their influence would not go unnoticed. Sex filled the air, seeping under doorways and into loins, relaxing tensions and increasing desires. For the men this would mean aching erections that threatened to bend their knees. For the women, a broiling heat low in their belly and a flood of wetness.
For Phoebe, they were most likely the broad-shouldered and kind-smiling mostly masculine figure she'd come to think of them as. Glancing around, the god frowned at the state of the brothel. 'I'm all for letting oneself go, but this place has certainly seen better days. I do hope you're up to keeping it on its feet..." With a wave of their hand, the brothel was utterly transformed.
Foundations were raised, sound-proofing added to the walls, and on floors suddenly covered with rich dark wood were luscious rugs. In the rooms themselves were four-poster beds with canopies of silk and thick elaborate wallpaper. All surfaces were magically touched so that they would always remain clean and hygenic despite the acts for which the rooms were designed.
"Last but not least...." With a smile for Phoebe, a button was placed in each room. When pressed, a perfume would filter into the air that would dowse any lingering tensions or self-conscious thoughts. A scent-less elixer that would heighten the pleasure had within, and utterly do away with inhibitions.
They were nude as they almost always were, their features a dazzling triumph of the heights of sexual fantasy; just what those features were depended on who was looking, of course. Even in other areas of the building, like where Ronin, Remi, and Harper were, their influence would not go unnoticed. Sex filled the air, seeping under doorways and into loins, relaxing tensions and increasing desires. For the men this would mean aching erections that threatened to bend their knees. For the women, a broiling heat low in their belly and a flood of wetness.
For Phoebe, they were most likely the broad-shouldered and kind-smiling mostly masculine figure she'd come to think of them as. Glancing around, the god frowned at the state of the brothel. 'I'm all for letting oneself go, but this place has certainly seen better days. I do hope you're up to keeping it on its feet..." With a wave of their hand, the brothel was utterly transformed.
Foundations were raised, sound-proofing added to the walls, and on floors suddenly covered with rich dark wood were luscious rugs. In the rooms themselves were four-poster beds with canopies of silk and thick elaborate wallpaper. All surfaces were magically touched so that they would always remain clean and hygenic despite the acts for which the rooms were designed.
"Last but not least...." With a smile for Phoebe, a button was placed in each room. When pressed, a perfume would filter into the air that would dowse any lingering tensions or self-conscious thoughts. A scent-less elixer that would heighten the pleasure had within, and utterly do away with inhibitions.
