"My name is Johan Axelsson. I appreciate the chance at this job, I'm very grateful." I spoke in a deep voice, nodding to the woman behind the desk. At thirty years old, I was a reformed criminal and didn't have a lot of options on my plate for work. I had been looking for three weeks since my release and I couldn't believe how hard it was to find a job as a convict. I wasn't given the chance to stop though because an agreement of my parole was to find employment as soon as possible, and my parole officer was a bit of a hardass. But all that ended after I got a phone call yesterday and I happened upon what seemed to be an amazingly lucky find. A local apartment complex needed a live-in maintenance worker and had specified in the ad that said worker must be a very strong man.
I definitely fit the part for that. I had a Scandinavian heritage and I looked it. I stood six foot eight with the kind of chest and arms that could only be built from years of weightlifting day after day in prison. Beyond just being the appearance of a brawny viking, I was also a wolf demi-human. I had straw-blonde hair pulled back in a tight tail and pointed wolf's ears. The belt of my jeans had a slit for my wolf tail to hang free. My legs from the knees down carried the same blonde hair and ended in large wolf paws.
"You understand that this job is physically challenging, yes? We've had three other caretakers walk away from the job in the last month and cannot afford any more wasted time. The maintenance work is backing up and you're going to have to work hard to catch up. You're also going to be permanently on-call for all emergency maintenance unless you're on a scheduled vacation." The woman said, looking over her glasses at me. She poked a manicured finger at the desk and said, "You will have to move in to your apartment and start work before the end of the week."
Five years in prison with nothing but other men to look at had me looking at this woman like a meal. She was early forties with a well-shaped pantsuit over slim hips and soft breasts. Her hair was long and chocolate brown, partially hiding a pair of soft brown bunny ears draping down the sides of her head. I had to force myself to calm down and nod.
"Yes, ma'am. That won't be a problem. I have all my belongings in my car and I can get moved in before dinner. I can start working first thing tomorrow morning." I said, my hands stuffing into the pockets of my jeans to keep them from doing anything untoward.
"Good to hear. Please sign these papers. With your position, you will have access to all apartments. But should you ever abuse this, you will be held liable for all possible damages or criminal actions. This is an agreement to all your responsibilities." The woman said, sliding a sheaf of papers across the desk towards him. She set a pen on the stack and said, "Flip through these. There should be six or seven spots to sign."
I nodded and took the pen. Without bothering to read, I flipped through and scribbled my name on each appropriate line. I was far from having the right to complain about what some employment agreement said. It was a surprise that she was willing to sign a convicted criminal as the live-in caretaker, wasn't that some kind of enormous risk for the people that lived here? Not that I would do anything, after my conviction I swore off that life and wanted to go straight. It just wasn't worth it and it cost me half a decade of my life.
"Perfect. Here is your key. You're going to be living in apartment A-1. I'll send over the logbook and the master key tomorrow morning. You'll find a list of requests in that from the previous caretaker." The woman said, setting a key on the desk as she took the signed papers back.
"Understood. I'll be up and ready." I said as I took the key. Her attention went to her computer screen, clearly dismissing me without saying anything. I turned slowly and walked out of the apartment's main office. Outside, I looked at the key and then let out a low whistle, "God, I've missed seeing women like that. I would demolish that sweet ass."
I spun the key in my hand and looked around. The apartment complex wasn't large but it was tidy. Two buildings with four apartments per floor and three floors. The buildings were a clean white and brown with every apartment being exactly the same. It looked like I was to fix and maintain twenty-four two-bedroom apartments. That wasn't too bad at all. I was a pretty handy guy and figured I could take care of simple plumbing or electrical issues. I could figure out how to patch drywall or replace parts in a dishwasher. This job was going to be perfect for me, and it was absolutely perfect that it came with a free place to live.
With the key to my new future in my hand, I stepped off the curb and got into the shitty little used sedan I was borrowing from my brother to search for jobs. In the back seat was two duffle bags with all my worldly possessions in them. Some clothes, a few necessities, and a fancy new phone. Though my brother insisted the phone was an old piece of shit, it was still newer than anything I'd ever had.
I started the car with a sputtering grumble and backed up to go find the spot for apartment A-1.
*******
Admittedly my night sleep was not the most comfortable but a sleeping bag on the carpeted floor was still a damn sight better than a prison bunk. Not to mention this was my own place. It might sound odd coming from someone in his third decade of life, but this was the first time I had a place to myself. After high school, I always had roommates or I was surfing couches. It didn't matter how much money I made from various illicit activities, I never found the time or ability to get a place of my own. So there was some kind of young giddiness to locking that front door behind me and looking around the empty place.
It wasn't bad looking at all. A nicely sized main room divided between an open area with plush carpet and a sliding back door, and a comfortable kitchen with all the basic amenities. A short hallway led into two small bedrooms on either side of a bathroom with a full shower and tub.
I had tossed my bags on the floor of one of the bedrooms and unfurled my sleeping bag there. The night passed in a flash and I woke while the sky was still dark. I got up, gathered some clothes and small bag of washing things. Old prison habits, you absolutely carried everything with you everywhere outside your cell lest it get taken from you the moment you turned your back.
The shower was amazing. I mean, it really wasn't. The bath was a bit small for me and my head stuck up above the shower nozzle, leaving me to either wash myself from the pecs down or squat down to get my head. But it was mine and I was entirely alone here. No need to rush, nor anyone hurrying me along. I showered for probably a full half hour and it was as luxurious as I could've dreamed.
I got out of the shower and realized I didn't have a towel. I stood dripping on the tile floor in front of the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. Powerful layers of muscle rippled under tight, pale skin. A few small scars made knotted lines across my upper chest and one in my side. Not all of them were from prison, but each was a reminder of the nasty life I was leaving behind. Thick, wet curls covered my chest and down my abs, thinning into a trail that bridged my chest hair and the thick, golden pubes that encircled my large cock and covered my heavy balls. As a wolf-man I had a deeply pink canine member that was half-hidden in a thick layer of foreskin when flaccid.
Without anything else to do, I grabbed up my dirty shirt and wiped myself as dry as I could manage. It was harder than you think with a tail as thick as mine, or leg fur as dense as I have on my paws. But in the end I got all my fur dry enough to pull on a clean pair of jeans and drag a plain white tee over my chest. I groaned as I felt it stretch over my shoulders and pulled it barely to my belt. I'd told my brother at least three XL if he couldn't get something in tall. That ass had gotten me a two XL and it was stretching across my pecs like I was trying to show off or something. Any motion at all showed the muscle tone between my pelvis and belly button. Hardly the most professional look for the first day on a new job.
Whatever, I could pull a jacket on and cover most of it up. Though there was no hiding how the shirt sometimes flashed a strip of skin around my waist because it wasn't fucking long enough. My first paycheck was going to be absolutely destroyed with just clothing and some basic furniture when I finally got it.
