An addiction

Disclaimer: This story contains both illegal and unethical elements.
Thank you for (hopefully) enjoying my story and feel free to leave a comment when you're finished reading!
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I woke up from a very sexual dream.
It had surprised me, because, at least in daytime, I am against prostitution. And in my dream, I had visited a bordello.
Absurdly, the bordello looked much like those Youth Centers (UM) that are common in Sweden. They are, basically, Youth Sex Education Centers, where young adults can come and be tested for STDs, get cheap condoms, get really cheap birth control pills and be examined. (I have been examined, I might add, a very healthy young woman with hips perfect for child-bearing and a healthy flush to my nether parts.) Examination is also one of my fantasies.... But, more about that later.

The bordello was housed in a building made of red brick. It looked like a tower from the industrialization era. Blushing wildly, I had entered the building. On the first floor was a lawyer's office. I walked up the stairs to the next level. The stairway was making me slightly claustrophobic. The railing was painted a ghastly orange, and the walls were grey, perhaps once light blue. On the second floor, the door looked exactly like the one downstairs. I went to the door and knocked on it. There was no answer but silence. It made me uncomfotable. I opened the door and stepped through. I came in to a white hall way, looking much like any other office corridor.
-Hello? I called out softly, unsurely.
The lighting was bad or perhaps toned down for the customer's convenience. Eerily, the floor had a special cover that hushed my footsteps, making my movement unnaturally quiet. Walking further into the corridor, I saw a red light to my right. It came through a half-opened door, and the red light flooded the white floor directly outside the opening. Through the door I could hear whispers, the soft sound of voices.
I went to the door, blinking at the red light, and walked in.

Inside was a room with red and dark pink walls, velvet draperies hanging from the ceiling, held up by ropes that shimmered as if pure silver. There were no mirrors.
From the ceiling hang a red light bulb, providing softened light. It was a stark contrast to the decadence of the interior.
Directly to the left from the door, where I stood, was a table covered with toys, equipment used in the profession that was practised in the house. There were dildos, vibrators, cock rings, anal probes, hand cuffs, masks, plush toys with phallic protuberances...

I must apologize to you, dear reader, if I have led you to believe that I was alone in that room. I was not. There were, in fact, a lot of people in the room. None of whom had reacted when I walked in.
There was a counter at the right side of the room, an old woman behind it. Beside her was a bored-looking young man, arms folded, leaning against the wall, attempting to be dark and mysterious. He had no shirt on.
On the other side of the counter was the queue.
I had assumed that the old woman was the clerk, taking orders and directing the customers. She was talking to a young couple, a man and a woman, and was just now pointing to the far end of the room, opposite to the door which I had entered. They went there, holding hands, giggling. The light was even dimmer there. As they turned to the right I noticed that there was no red light in that corridor, a darker shade of the light that had been in the hallway from which I had come. There was no drapery or door, only a velvet-clad entrance.
I turned my attention back to the people in the room. The next customers, the ones before me, were a family. The father, forty, perhaps fifty years old, was talking to the old female clerk. His wedding band gleamed as his hand moved on the counter. The mother was kneeling, talking to the children. She was an attractive woman, with chin-length dark hair, and the two small girls looked like her, except that they were blond, as Swedish children usually are at their age. The girls had long hair and wore dresses with flower patterns. A stranger might have called them adorable.
- Do you like that toy, sweetheart? The mother said, pointing at a small pillow, a happy face with a long, thin, protruding nose. The girl nodded and the dark-haired mother tousled with that fair hair. Her wedding band winked at me. The other girl pointed at a small, light pink bunny in plastic. Her mother smiled.
- You like bunnies, don't you, Emilia?
The girl smiled at her mother and hugged her.
The dark-haired woman looked up at her husband and nodded. He gave the old female clerk some bills and turned to his girls. The mother picked up the first little girl and moved to the far end of the room. The father hoisted up the other girl on his shoulder.
- We're going to play now, honey, won't you like that?
The girl giggled.