Fuced

I wiped down the bar counter, the slightly damp rag dragging across sticky pools of spilled drink. The bar was alive with laughter and the low drone of conversation, but all I cared about was the battered clock by the entrance.

11:50 PM.

Ten more minutes, and I'd be free to crawl into bed and sleep until the world stopped spinning. That was practically the only thought that gave me solace while I was at work. It made me feel lighter and happier.

I'd taken on extra shifts, heck, extra extra shifts, because my rent was due, and my landlady was the kind of bitter that seeped into your bones. She'd made it very clear: one more late payment and I was out. No exceptions. Just the thought of it and how stern she looked made me shiver.

11:51 PM.

"Hello?" a voice slurred by the other side of the counter, dragging me away from my very sad thoughts. "Can I get a glass of gin and tonic?"

I looked up to see her. The bride. She and her bridal party had stumbled in a couple of hours ago, already tipsy, already loud. Bachelorette parties were a common sight here, one last hurrah before trading freedom for forever. If I had to guess, she wanted to pre-game at the bar before hitting the strip club. Typical of brides around here.

I gave her my best professional bartender smile. "Coming right up."

She blinked at me, swaying slightly on her heels. "Ou, I loveeee your hair. It's so fiery and red, like fire."

I chuckled. Compliments on my hair were as common as drink orders. Half the time, I made better tips because of it; something about it being an unnatural attraction in a place like this. Not that I was complaining. Attention meant tips. Tips meant rent. Rent meant I wouldn't sleep outside in the cold with nowhere to live.

I took a glass from the array of glasses lined up, filled it with ice, and poured a generous splash of gin over it. She watched me with dazed fascination as I topped it with tonic, dropped in a lime wedge and a cucumber slice, and slid it across the counter.

Her eyes went wide as she took a sip, rolling her head back like she'd just tasted the nectar of the gods. "Oh my god. That was the fastest I've ever seen anyone make a drink. And it's amazing."

11:55 PM.

I lifted a hand, feigning modesty. "I do my best."

She giggled, then pulled out a wad of cash, peeling off a bill and sliding it across the counter before sauntering off.

I counted it.

My breath hitched. A hundred bucks as a tip? Whoa, no one had ever given me this much before. Before I could even look around and push the cash into my pocket, I heard a voice.

"You know the rules."

I stiffened at the voice behind me.

Bill.

Somehow, my boss had an almost supernatural ability to appear whenever money was involved, like a vulture circling a fresh kill.

I clutched the bill. "Come on, Bill, I got this fair and square."

He raised a thick brow, unimpressed.

"Please," I lowered my voice, desperation creeping in. "I need to pay my rent."

He didn't look at me. Instead, he motioned to the tip jar. "I can't break the rules for you, Flora."

I cursed under my breath and dropped the dollar bill into the tip jar. Bill had a silly rule where the tips given would be split amongst everyone working that shift, including him. It did not matter who got the tip; it had to be shared.

It made no sense to me because I got more tips out of everyone who worked in the bar, and then I got to share it with them after my shift. And I couldn't just slide the bill into my apron because Bill had caught Yvonne doing that last month and fired her. I needed this job to stay alive practically, and I couldn't afford for anything to go wrong with it.

11:58 pm.

I tapped my feet impatiently on the floor. I couldn't wait for my shift to end so I could get out of here. I needed sleep, and I needed to really think about my life. Also, I will be getting a response from the publication where I submitted my manuscript today. Getting a book deal would be simply life-changing.

No more living paycheck after paycheck; I would be able to pay my rent on time or even move to a bigger apartment in the city.

Ugh, I would be able to afford all those super-expensive cereals that tasted like cardboard. That was the life I wanted to have.

"Here!" Bill's voice pulled me back to reality.

I looked down at the money in his hand, took it, and counted it, and it was barely even enough to get by.

"Bill, please. If you could just reconsider the last tip. I don't mind not getting paid tonight. Can I just get the tip I was given?"

He scoffed at me and tore his gaze away. "That's not how things work around here, Flora. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he walked away.

12:00 am.

I took off my apron, grabbed my coat hanging by the side, and made my way out of the bar and into the freezing cold.

There's no way what Bill was doing was legal, and there's also no way I would be the one to report him to the authorities. The last thing I wanted was to end up like Yvonne. I just needed to keep searching for a better job that actually lets employees keep their tips. But I was pretty certain one of my books would get published, and I wouldn't have to worry about any of this.

As I walked down the dark alley toward my studio apartment, I felt eyes watching me. I looked around a couple of times, but I couldn't see anyone.

The city was barely awake, shadows stretching long and ominous under the glow of streetlights. Still, the prickling sensation at the back of my neck refused to fade.

This was not what I needed right now. What I needed was to hear news about my manuscript being accepted, take a nice hot shower, and go to bed very happy. I increased my pace until I came to the front of my apartment building. My trembling fingers fumbled with the mailbox, the cool metal biting against my skin.

I first saw my usual stack of credit card bills and other payments that were way overdue before my eyes met an envelope that stood out. I sucked in breath as I pulled it out of the bunch. It had a distinct logo of the publishing company I'd submitted my manuscript to weeks ago, and I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.

I clutched the envelope tightly, my heartbeat thunderous in my ears. I needed this. Desperately. Rent was due, my fridge was practically empty, and my last paycheck barely kept me afloat. Plus, Bill was doing all he could to keep me in poverty forever.

With trembling hand, I tore open the envelope and unfolded the carefully folded letter. My eyes scanned the words until they landed on that one word that told me that my manuscript just wasn't good enough. The rejection felt like a punch to my gut.

'We regret to inform you that your manuscript has been rejected. While it is well-written, we found the content too deep for our audience.'

Too deep? What does that even mean? My work wasn't supposed to be shallow. Heck, no one's work was meant to be shallow. It was raw--real, just like my life.

"Fuck them!" I said under my breath, and I felt like collapsing on the ground.

The words blurred as tears stung my eyes, but before I could fully process the weight of it, a rough hand yanked me back, and a bag was shoved over my head.

I felt the panic rise in my throat, and I tried to scream for help, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. I thrashed around, certain that I didn't want to die. At least not like this. Not when I have barely achieved anything in my life. I've never even had an air fryer.

The air inside the bag reeked of something chemical and bitter, burning my lungs. I tried to scream again, but all to no avail. Suddenly, I could feel my arms and legs getting heavy as the drugs took hold of me. My mind screamed to fight, but my body betrayed me. The world tilted, darkness closing in around me.

The last thing I felt before everything went black was the cold pavement against my back.

***

I tried to open my eyes, but it felt a little bit sore from something I couldn't quite comprehend. I groaned, my head banging as I propped my elbows up on the chair and sat up. When my eyes opened, I took in the room I was in. It looked nothing like what I was expecting, and my hands and legs weren't tied.

What kind of kidnappers were these?

I forced myself upright, using my elbows to hold myself as they pressed into something soft, velvet? I wasn't sure. My vision was a bit wavy and blurry before it focused, revealing a room so luxurious it could have been plucked from a royal estate. Deep mahogany furniture. A chandelier glistening above. Thick drapes pooling against polished floors.

Not what I expected from an abduction. And I found myself actually admiring the room, even if I didn't want to.

My coat was gone, but instead of the biting cold I last remembered, warmth enveloped me, pulling me even further. The heater must've been on full blast, working overtime to keep the room toasty. In the corner of the room was a man and woman arguing in muted tones, and they had no idea I had woken up. I shut my eyes and tried to make out what they were saying, moving closer to the corner they were in.

I shut my eyes and stilled, tilting my head slightly, straining to hear.

"I don't think she's ready," the woman said, her voice clipped with frustration. "Maybe the king was wrong."

Ready for what?

"He's never wrong," the man snapped back. "That's literally why he's king."

The woman groaned, her footsteps pacing across the floor. My fingers twitched with the urge to crack my eyes open, just a peek, to see who these people were, to gauge whether I was in danger.

But I didn't. Not yet.

Not when the next words made my blood run cold.

"So what do we do? Just tell her?" the woman pressed. "There's no way she'll accept it. She barely even knows who she is."

They'd definitely done their research on that front because they were right. I had no idea who I was. I'd left the orphanage at a pretty young age and was thrown into a life I could barely navigate.

"But he said she's the one," the man pressed. "And I've been watching her for years now. Like you said, she barely knows who she is, so that means she has no real ties to this world. No partner. No active life. She doesn't have any messy attachments."

The more they spoke about me as if I wasn't there, the more confused I became about everything that was happening. I needed more content, fast.

"That doesn't mean she's right for this, Alfred."

The man sighed. "As much as I don't want it to resort to this, she doesn't have a choice. She'll have to do what we say."

My mind reeled as they kept talking. The man--Alfred was his name--had been watching me for a while. And he knew how sad my life was and the fact that I barely have sex. My heart pounded in my chest as the pieces began to fall into place slowly.

Oh God. They're trying to recruit me for sex work.

I quickly sprang up from my position.

"I'll do it!" I screamed out loud.

The man and woman both turned to look at me, confused.

I swallowed. "I'll do it. Whatever you two want me to do. As long as I will get paid generously and I'll be able to self-publish my books, then I'm fine."

They both exchanged worried glances and then looked back at me.

"You've been awake all this while."

"Uh," I started, my brain going blank. "Just for about five minutes."

But I was still set on my decision. I've heard about girls who did sex work and how much money they made in one night. Would it be so bad, though? My life was already falling apart; I was living from paycheck to paycheck in a rundown apartment, my dreams of being published were crushed, and my job at the bar barely kept me afloat.

The idea of being paid, or maybe finally having something, hell, anything, didn't seem so impossible to consider. Plus, I would get to actually have sex with people. I couldn't remember when last I did that. I'd been so worried about being broke that I neglected my sex life.

Alfred stepped toward me cautiously, his expression unreadable. "We need to tell you something. But first, promise you won't freak out.

That was never a good way to start a conversation. My gaze moved between him and the woman beside him, Octavia, as he'd called her. "Fine. I promise."

He exhaled as if relieved. "Good. First off, I'm Alfred, and this is Octavia. We're direct guides from your great-granduncle."

I let out a dry laugh. "I don't even have an uncle. I barely have any family."

Octavia stepped forward, her eyes sharp and assessing. "You do. And your uncle is dead, Flora. That makes you the rightful heir to the crown."

I blinked. "The what?"

Alfred gave a solemn nod. "He was the king of our kind. And now, by bloodline, it's your turn to rule."

I stared at them, my skin prickling. "Our kind?" My laugh was hollow, edged with disbelief. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Octavia didn't flinch. "You're not human, Flora. You're Fae."

The air seemed to shift. A strange weight settled in my chest, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

"Excuse me?"

"You've felt it, haven't you?" Alfred pressed, his voice almost gentle. "The way humans never quite connect with you. The way you've always been different."

I opened my mouth to argue, to shut this down as some insane joke, but the words wouldn't come. Because he was right.

I'd spent my whole life feeling like an outsider, never quite fitting anywhere. It wasn't just the hair, though my fiery red curls made me stick out in any crowd. It was something deeper. An invisible wall between me and the rest of the world. Something I could never explain.

"And now you're telling me I'm supposed to be queen of some faerie kingdom?" I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief. "That's insane."

"It's not," Octavia said, stepping even closer. "The crown is yours, and our people need their queen."

I shook my head. "I don't know anything about ruling."

"That's why we're here," she said smoothly. "To guide you. To teach you."

"What? Politics? Diplomacy?"

Alfred smirked. "In time. But first, you must master the most important art of all."

He held my gaze, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"Connection. Understanding." His lips curled at the edges. "And seduction."

"Seduction?" I asked.

"The fae learns about others through touch, through intimacy," Octavia explained. "It's how we understand desires, fears, and power. You must master this if you're to rule."

I didn't want to go back to my old life, and I had no choice, so this was the only way forward.

"Alright," I shrugged. "I'm in. Anything is better than my life at the moment."

Alfred and Octavia exchanged looks.

"That was pretty easy."

I shrugged again. "When do we start?"

"Now!" Alfred said as his lips crashed down on mine in a firm kiss. My body stiffened at first, then it relaxed naturally into his.

The kiss was so passionate and hot, and I wanted more of that. Octavia came from behind me and planted kisses down my shoulder as she leaned down to squeeze and knead my giant titties. I threw my head back and kept moaning as she kept going to work.

While Alfred kissed me, she stepped in front of me and slowly took off her clothes as I watched in awe. Her breasts were big and perky, and her pussy hair was shaped into a fig leaf, which was pretty cool.

Suddenly, they pulled away, and Alfred kissed her now, switching it up as I watched them go at it. I could see his hard cock pressing through his pants, and I was getting even wet myself.

Octavia helped him take off his clothes until they were both standing naked before me. She looked at Alfred with desperate eyes, and I could get she was already dripping wet and couldn't wait to get fucked.

It was torture that they were letting me watch instead of including me in the action, but I sat obediently and watched them.

I pulled my skirt down as my legs spread apart, and my fingers hovered over my panties. I was so tempted to slip my fingers down and touch myself until I became a moaning mess.

Alfred caught me from the corner of his eyes before I could even do anything.

"For utmost pleasure, Flora, we recommend you hold off your pleasure for now," he said.

He wasn't loud or strict, but the way he said it was so authoritative that I knew I had to obey. And that made me even hornier.

They got back to kissing, and she moaned as he ran his hands over her naked body. He squeezed her soft butt cheeks and slapped them before working his lips on her hardened nipples. It was hard to watch without touching myself.

His cock was getting even bigger by the minute, and I couldn't wait to take him in my mouth and suck out all his juices.

Octavia gasped as Alfred took her nipples in his mouth and sucked roughly on it. She threw her head back and kept moaning as he got to work.

Alfred took one nipple first in his mouth and then the other, licking and sucking as fast and hard as he could, as if he wanted to suck off her nipples. Octavia gasped and panted the whole time, turning me on. With my arousal completely built up to the extreme, Alfred walked up to me and began to kiss me again. I kissed him back, my body and pussy begging for his hands.

He groaned and pulled me closer, swallowing my lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue expertly moved in sync with mine. It was just a kiss, but it was so sensual, and it pushed me off the very edge. I moaned into his mouth as I pressed my body and breasts smack against his hard chest.

"I want to watch you fuck her senseless, Alfie," Octavia started. "Show her how we do it."

With that, he lifted me off the floor and backed me against the nearest wall, so I was pressed between the wall and him. He kept kissing me and squeezing my butt cheeks as arousal oozed from my pussy. If he kept going at this pace, I was going to come without any control.

"Yes, keep pushing her toward the edge," Octavia taunted.

Whatever she was doing was working because Alfred groaned and slapped my ass hard.

"Yes!" I moaned, the pain and pleasure mixing in my body and forming a sensation I'd never experienced before.

"Lay down on the couch," Alfred instructed as he pulled away from me. I did as I was told without hesitation, and then he hovered above me before slowly undressing me until I was completely naked underneath him except for my panties.

Alfred started kissing my neck while he pulled my panties down, and then he kept going downwards until he got to my breast. I moaned loudly, the heat pooling low in my belly. I've never been this turned on in my entire life, and I had no idea what to do about it.

"Your breasts are so big and perky. Can't wait to see how they taste in my mouth," he mumbled.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion. I moaned softly as his lips settled on one of my big, pointy nipples, making my entire body shiver in pleasure. His hand cupped the other breast, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple as I whimpered in need.

I was so close to begging him to fuck me. I didn't care if he used his cock, his finger, or even his tongue. I just needed a part of him to be inside of me, pumping in and out before I went insane.

"Look at you," Octavia started from the corner. I could see her fingering herself as she watched us, and the lewd sight alone was enough to completely tip me off the edge. "So eager and needy. You're the picture of sexual desperation. Exactly what we needed."

Her words made my cheeks burn, but it also meant that I was the right person for this job.

"You like being watched, don't you?" Alfred murmured as he bit one of my nipples hard, making me yelp. "It turns you on, knowing that she's seeing every little thing I do to you."

I tried to deny it, but the way my body trembled betrayed me. He smirked, his fingers sliding between my thighs and brushing against my wetness.