"Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome to The Parlor." I smiled at the two men seated at the table before me. "I'm a worthless slut, and I'll be taking care of you gentlemen this evening. Have you dined here before?"
"I have," said the elder of the two, smiling condescendingly at me. He looked to be in his late-40s, just starting to go grey, and emanated the aura of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. "But it's my young friend here's first time." He nodded toward the red-headed young man seated across from him. I knew this man. This man's name was Trion Skender, and he was the Redeemer initiate who had attended my trial, whom my master had promised an hour alone with me at some undetermined time in the future. I was pretending not to know him, as per my master's orders.
I smiled at Skender, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as words forced themselves out of my mouth, unbidden. "The Parlor is a gentleman's club owned by The Order of Redeemers. All the servers here are Redeemer-owned slaves who have somehow failed to comply with our masters' expectations. We have been assigned to work here by our masters as a reminder of our rightful place and our true purpose, which is to serve our betters.
"As your server for the night, I will obey any commands you give me without question or hesitation. If it is within my power to give you pleasure, tell me how and I will do it.
"Finally, gentlemen, my master wishes me to convey one extra thing to you. He wishes me to tell you that I am an uncommonly filthy degenerate. That compared to me, every insolent slut here is an obedient housewife, and that my punishments must subsequently be harsher." I burned with shame at the words I found myself speaking, completely unable stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. "He wishes you to know that throughout the evening, he will be sending sudden pulses of intense pain and orgasmic pleasure through my body at random intervals. These interruptions are not to impact my performance as a server. If they do, you are invited to punish me as you see fit. My master humbly requests that you refrain from doing lasting damage to my body, but otherwise invites you to be as cruel and/or creative as you like.
"Any questions, gentlemen?"
As the words left my mouth, a throb of pleasure pulsed through my whole body and I stumbled forward slightly with a moan, catching myself with a hand on the older man's shoulder.
"Everything alright, slave?" He leered up at me, reaching over with one hand to pinch my nipple, which was visibly hard under the thin fabric of my dress.
"Yes, sir," I breathed, my eyes watering. "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?"
Both men laughed.
They think you're pathetic
, my master whispered in my mind.
And they're right.
Just look at you.
"A bottle of bubbly, bitch. We're celebrating," said the older man.
"And bring a pack of matches," added Skender, reaching out to grab my ass. I smiled at him, dying inside, and left to retrieve what they had asked for.
When I returned they were laughing again. I paused, uncertain.
"Well?" The older man gestured at their glasses. I hurried forward to fill his glass first, and as I leaned in to do so a sharp pang of pain lit up my whole body. I was braced for it this time. I bit my lip and clenched the bottle so hard I thought I might break it, but I kept my composure and managed to fill his glass successfully.
The pain faded. I took a deep breath, then turned to fill Skender's glass. This time when I leaned forward a pang of pleasure shot through my nervous system. Again I was braced for it, but this time I was not as successful in maintaining my composure. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and my arm twitched. Not much, just a little, but it was enough. A drop of bubbly rolled down the side of the glass and onto the tabletop.
There was silence at the table. I glanced at Skender, and found he had fixed me with an intense stare. His eyes were hard.
"Take off your dress," he said cooly.
My heart pounded. Oh gods, I didn't want this. But I calmly put the bottle of bubbly down on the table and removed my dress without hesitation, letting it fall to the ground at my feet. Standing before them in nothing but my underclothes, I repressed a shudder as I felt them devour me with their eyes.
Skender pushed his chair out slightly, patting his lap for me to sit on. As I moved to sit as directed, a sudden wave of pleasure crashed through me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed ungracefully against him, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He pulled me into an upright sitting position by the hair, then leaned in to bite my neck. My clit throbbed.
"Have you ever done deluge?" he growled into my ear, pulling something out of his pocket.
I nodded. Deluge had only recently become in vogue for the upper classes, but I had partaken when it was just a street drug and I was just a fugitive. It was a drug that essentially enhanced all sensations and triggered a slightly dissociative state. I had had some fun with it in the past, but it was absolutely the last thing I wanted in this moment.
"Would you like to do some now?" he asked. Inside my head, my master began laughing.
I shook my head. "N-no thank you," I murmured, disgusted by how meek I sounded.
Skender grinned. "Tough shit, bitch," he said, bringing a stick of deluge to his lips and lighting a match.
My master laughed even harder at this.
Oh, I like him
, he said.
Skender and the other man each took one long drag of deluge, and then Skender held the stick out to me. "A gift, from me to you," he mocked. "Smoke up."
Obediently I took a large hit and held it. This seemed to please him. As I exhaled, I felt him unhook my bra, and though I longed to stop him, I had no choice but to let him remove it.
"Not bad," said the older man, examining my breasts critically. He reached out his hands to cup them, and with the deluge already running through my veins, I felt my pulse quicken at the pleasure his intimate touch elicited. My eyelids fluttered. Cursing myself, I found my body leaning ever so slightly into him. He chuckled, squeezing. "Some men might prefer them larger, but I think these have a lovely shape."
I took another obedient drag of the deluge, and as I did so a bolt of pain shot through me, making me cough. The smoke seared my lungs. My eyes watered. I could not stop coughing. As my body spasmed on his lap, I could feel Skender's cock hardening beneath me.
"Keep smoking, slave. I want you to
feel
tonight."
I whimpered quietly and took another hit.
What an obedient little junkie you are
, my master mocked.
I had no idea. All these years and I'm still learning new things about you.
"You know, bitch," Skender said throatily into my ear, "when a gentleman gives a lady a gift, it's customary for her to thank him."