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In The House of The Rising Sun

(Mostly standalone, but reading some earlier chapters of A1386G could help.)

t/w: panic attack, vomit.

A1386G Interlude

In The House of The Rising Sun

I was sticky and positively reeked of sweat after playing a couple of tennis matches against this weekend's clients. Sweat clung to my body in sheets, and my sheer skirt was now alternately clinging to me and showing off everything, or peeling off as I moved. My chest heaved as I caught my breath, and I doubled over to let sweat drip off my face and onto the ground.

I had won, of course.

Even if I wasn't the best player around, playing against a couple twenty years older than me wouldn't have been much of a challenge. Especially after my top was drenched enough to show my nipples clear across the court. Still, two matches back to back would always be rough, even if I only had to play against my doubles partner for one.

Christie was doubled over the same as I was, and we'd pushed each other even as the clients had struggled to keep up. They'd been so winded that right now I could see the back of their dress flipped up, and fuck-hole of an anus peeking out from behind a jockstrap that was as visible as their sportsbra.In The House of The Rising Sun фото

For a moment I wondered how Christie tanned down there, because that was just uneven enough it wasn't a spray-tan.

The clients, both sitting on the clay and panting, definitely enjoyed the view before I staggered over and pulled Christie's dress back into being the mockery of modesty that our rules and the clients demanded even on the court.

Our clients on the other hand were actually dressed normally, although the wife had ditched her briefs between matches "because of the chafing." Which confused me for a bit because this was Boca. It was hot. You could just admit you needed the airflow. This was why I had such a light skirt and Christie's jockstraps were all mesh.

Still, time was up, and with the tennis camp supposed to be here shortly we left the court and started the walk back to the adult section of the resort, and the tower I'd called home all weekend.

When we returned to their room I think my clients were trying to decide if they were horny or tired. The wife going bottomless for much of the walk back but then collapsing on a bench for five minutes was sending mixed messages.

We were all in the bathroom when I got an answer.

"Mint, stop." The husband said, as I was reaching for my still drenched skirt. "We want to get a whiff."

Definitely horny. His wife was already in my armpit before he finished saying anything.

I glanced over at Christie, my coworker, and they shrugged. Neither of us really got the scent kink some clients had, but neither of us had ever been allowed body hair, so there might've been something we missed out on.

The two noses tracking across my body were joined by flicks of tongues, and for a moment I felt like these clients were worshipers of old, taking my sweat as a sacrament. It was intoxicating. The nose on my back, the husband giving the feel of his unbecoming horseshoe mustache, hooked his thumbs under my panties and began pulling them down. His wife was still around my navel, and had drawn a line with her tongue all the way down from my armpit to get there.

I felt his tongue in my cleft and relaxed. It had been a few months since a client had licked there, but their technique hadn't been as good. The wife was at this point licking my sweat and juices off my labia, and through the haze of pleasure I wondered if I actually hated my job or just needed more days like this. I made a mental note that if I ever did go free or get promoted to management I needed to get a boy for this.

"If we had you at home, I don't think I'd let you shave. You smell too good," said the husband as he came up for air. "But I need to take a break."

"Good timing. I don't think I can hold it any longer," I replied. Sports drinks always went right through me, and that went doubly so when I slammed an energy drink beforehand. It had been a long weekend, and it wasn't over yet. I still had a day left with these two.

The wife pulled away at hearing that. "Reuben, do you need to go as well?" She asked.

I swear I could hear the man behind me smile. "I could," he replied.

"Mint, do you remember that one cheerleader video we requested? Why don't we do it again live?" The wife said.

"Do you want Christie or I to be it?" I replied, trying to remember which video it had been.

"It doesn't seem fair to leave him out." The wife answered as she stood up.

I saw Christie roll their eyes from the corner of mine. I smiled back, giving her a tilt of my head. Some days I just loved meeting our fans. Usually they wanted to let Christie top, and that was never as fun.

"Just let me get in the shower first so maintenance doesn't yell at us again." Christie responded cheerfully. "Also, would you like it if I had my clothes on or off?"

"On." Said the husband. I was definitely going to hear about that later, but we weren't the ones who told the customers 'no'. Just 'that tends to run extra' if they were stingy, and well, these two had requested us for four days straight and left an open tab.

With Christie in the shower, the three of us joined them, before taking aim and letting our water down. Marcia, the wife, aimed for Christie's chest, but had terrible aim and pressure so she fell short, mostly soaking my partner's skirt and the floor. I had a bit more practice, so I did actually get their torso drenched, but avoided anything sensitive. Christie and I had done this to each other enough that we knew how to make it look good without being annoying.

Reuben though, Reuben was a dick. Full power, no warning, right to Christie's face. Christie sputtered as they were blasted by the stream of urine, but otherwise kept smiling like clients wanted. No glare, no frown, nothing, just a smile and then an open and inviting mouth as a target.

After all, both of us had been raised better than to do anything else in this situation.

Eventually though, the streams stopped, and Christie swallowed what little urine our client had put in their mouth instead of their eyes or now twice-golden locks. Christie then hopped in the shower with Marcia as they both washed off the morning's grime.

I on the other hand ended up giving this guy a handjob when all I wanted was a shit and a shower.

Did I get to do it from a comfortable position? No, I had to kneel on the (thankfully heated) tile and stare up past his gut and second chin to see him watching his wife fondle Christie in the shower while he got to sit on the queening stool.

Fortunately, Reuben knew he was paying for the best, and just let me do what I do. Without much delay, I had two well lubed fingers and a thumb massaging his prostate while my other hand worked his shaft, including my other thumb stroking his corona and the tip of my tongue flicking his meatus. Not a basic technique, but one of the best things my predecessor had ever taught me. The man was almost in too much pleasure to grunt out "swallow" before he came and orgasmed right into a fuck-nap.

Given the bitter taste of his semen, I wish it had been a facial instead. He wasn't a smoker, but a diet of red meat and chicory coffee definitely wasn't doing him a favor in the bedroom. I had definitely tasted worse, but those were smokers or one guy who had been on some sort of diabetes medication.

But, with him in a fuck-nap I could take a shit without someone watching me. That was a surprisingly rare luxury in my line of work.

Finally then, with those two done, I had to shower as well. And I needed it. As did my client who I had to wash before I could wash myself, all while dodging some playful hands that got in the way of what he actually wanted. Namely, a nice shower and lunch.

Or Brunch, they weren't quite sure yet.

With Reuben and Marcia dressed, they looked like the aging vacationers they were. Reuben matched his polo pretty well with his greying hair, but the sunburn and gold chains really completed the rotund businessman on vacation look. Marcia's hair was as dyed as mine was, but she hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to her roots, so I saw flecks of grey hair underneath her Titian dye-job. She did have a cute dress on, although the pinstripes didn't really help her slim down.

Meanwhile, Christie and I had to actually dress respectably to go out for brunch, and that meant wearing more clothes with a client than I had in weeks. In my case that was a pair of shorts which showed just enough cheek to be acceptably enticing and a crop top, all color coordinated to match the mint-green hair I'd had to have since I was old enough to dye my hair. Christie was back in a peach halter neck dress that was actually knee length, plus a pair of mesh backed panties that actually gave some decent coverage. Needless to say, I was jealous.

Our walk from the adult section my clients' room was in to the family areas of the resort was always interesting. The perverts suddenly got way better at hiding things, my coworkers started putting on some or more clothes, and the shops became more normal and less blatantly sexual. That said, because our resort had the reputation it did, there still weren't that many children around and most of them were local kids here for the pools, or children of staff both free and unfree.

Some were working though, like Wisteria and her daughter who were giving some guy the family vacation experience, and others were just playing around like I had at that age. The family packages on this side of the resort were a pretty good way to get cash and probably not throw your back out on weird kinks while still making piles of cash for people who still wanted emancipation for themselves or their kids. Customers who wanted them were fairly rare, though, so we couldn't count on them even if we had all done it. Better to swallow your bile and get used to the freaks early.

Reuben and Marcia looked a bit surprised and scandalized when one of the kids waved at us when she ran by in a swimsuit that I guess was a bit risque in St. Louis (despite being notably modest for a two piece even off the resort, although like all of mine it was probably tan through judging by the pattern on it) and they turned to Christie and I to explain.

"That's my little sister Beatrice," Christie supplied as we kept walking to the restaurant. "Our mom is still working, so I guess she's off to the pool with her friends."

Marcia actually stopped walking to process that, nodded, and then having decided to avoid a line of questioning she didn't want answers to, continued walking. Customers generally didn't like thinking about staff families. It made them consider what they were paying for, and that was supposedly an uncomfortable thought- not that I'd know, being part of what they were buying.

The restaurant was a pretty standard pancake house, and had the theming for it with darker woods, softer lighting and bright red vinyl seats. I didn't think I had been here during the day before, since my clients usually weren't breakfast people. Or at least weren't clothed breakfast people. If this place actually had the lunch menu it said it did, I'd never had any of it: a harsh condemnation considering how long I'd lived here. Still, it had a view into and overlooking the family waterpark, and then the ocean beyond. It looked amazing most of the time, but meant actually eating breakfast here within an hour or two of sunrise was a miserable experience. For a brunch, though? Amazing.

Christie and I managed to keep the conversation fairly light and family friendly from when we were seated to after we ordered, but eventually curiosity got the better of Reuben and Marcia.

"So, what does your daily life look like?" Reuben said between bites of biscuits and gravy. "Like your sister and mother are both here, so what's the deal there?" The look in his eyes wasn't an innocent one, so Christie and I exchanged glances before deciding how to tackle this. The risk of creeps, versus the reward of more high-paying fetish work, that was the dance here. I didn't need to worry about it as much, so I let them take the lead while I started on my beat salad.

"I don't live with my family." Christie replied, cutting their eggs sardou, "I actually got assigned my own unit six years ago, so I see them on days off. Since I usually work nights unless a client requests me for something else, our schedules don't line up that much."

"Working nights as a what?" The fat cow eating the thick and juicy looking chicken sandwich asked, indulging her appetites for gluttony and lust at the same time.

"I'm a stripper." Christie replied nonchalantly, "Well, everyone here theoretically is, but I do that, DJ, and then attend to clients as well. So it's a lot of late nights and later mornings. Occasionally I get to do shows, but usually it's just stripping."

"And you Mint?" Reuben continued.

"I'm a personal concierge, and in practice that means aside from what I've been doing with you, I arrange other entertainment and activities. If I'm off rotation or for whatever reason I'm not booked enough, I end up working at the concierge desk, doing paperwork, or serving clients in other facilities." I replied, fork still half in my food as I entered hour eighty-four of my current shift.

This should've been disappointingly mundane enough to keep them from prying further or bringing up topics that weren't appropriate for a family restaurant, but it didn't.

"So you two do videos on your days off?" Reuben asked, looking more excited.

"We decided it'd be better to do it as a couple, so we try to do shoots on the days our schedules allow for, but usually we both end up doing solo work. Or just post stuff from work." Christie said cheerfully, narrowly avoiding the fact that our chemistry started and ended at the business of fleecing these idiots. "If you want, we could do a set with you to keep or we could post."

Marcia took a moment to think about it, glancing over at Reuben, who just glared back at her. "It'd be private if we do anything. But I'll absolutely take a picture with you two here you can post." She said, licking her lips. "Honey, why don't you borrow one of the girls' phones to take it?"

I had already fished mine out and unlocked it before he could get a "yes dear," out.

Marcia then dragged the two of us over so we were standing in front of the window, with her behind. Then, as Marcia grabbed my ass and fondled Christie's chest, her husband took our picture with his phone and then mine. I think I smiled properly through that.

Then my luck ran out, and I heard an alert from my phone, followed by a "Well she's cute." from Reuben, before he handed me my phone.

Apparently, not only did my old friend have a new maid, but also a girlfriend who apparently kept a ponygirl around. I knew I should have made sure to put an app on there to lock my private life out of work better.

Christie looked over my shoulder at the image. "Huh, I wonder what she did to catch him." they said idly while stroking their chin. "After everything you tried, I'd have thought you'd need a net."

Marcia returned to her seat as Christie and I sat down. "A friend of yours?" She asked.

"Yeah, halfway between a childhood friend and a regular client really." Christie replied, returning to their food. "The owner's grandson who we usually get assigned to serve whenever he's visiting. Mint took the poor kid's virginity and developed a massive crush on him."

I frowned as I sank down into my seat. Christie didn't need to say that. They must have been pissed about the golden facial earlier, and were taking it out on me instead of the client.

"Does he know?" Reuben asked, putting his fork down.

"No."

"How many times have you tried confessing to him?" Christie asked, happy that they had the leg up for once.

"Five." I said, my ears burning red.

"What would he do with that anyway? It's not like a girl like you gets whisked off in a fairy tale romance." The fat cow said, cutting deep to the bone. "You're a prostitute, and they don't exactly end up as someone's wife. Especially not when you're competing against a girl who looks like that unless you're Zumurrud or something. You're fun, and you have undeniable talent, but you're still a slave and a whore. I guess if you're lucky a rich guy could keep you as a pet."

"He never treated me like that." I replied, holding back a sudden spate of tears. "He always made me feel normal."

"This is the human element I was missing." Reuben said as I could feel his eyes boring into my skull. "You've both been too cultivated and controlled. It's excellent service, don't get me wrong, but the personal touches are what really make something special. It's why we subscribed to your videos."

"Well, I'm glad you're getting that out of it." Marcia replied. "Because we just spent fifteen hundred bucks on that and a bit of grab-ass, and as much as I like the view, that's not going to satisfy what I want it to."

Christie was visibly frowning now, the first time I'd seen her do that in front of a client in years. Fans or not, they had actually crossed a line for her now. They'd already run roughshod over mine, but that was what being a concierge here meant.

"Mint, find us a playroom for after lunch, or we're returning back to the room. I want to get my money's worth." Marcia continued.

I nodded while trying to hold back tears.

We ended up back in the room, because the only play areas left were for sadistic stuff, and I had a professional excuse to keep a couple acting like that far from a flogger. I did manage to pull myself back together, and put that mask of professionalism on to protect myself and Christie. Hopefully, the cracks in it were appealing.

I quickly found myself with Reuben atop me, lazily dragging a finger across his jawbone with a sadistic smirk. It was time to try and maximize my tips, ideally destroying a marriage in the process. "You know, if you took me home, you could have this every night." I said as seductively as I could while stroking his glans with my off hand. "A man like you could use a secretary like me."

"I don't need a new secretary though, mine knows me too well." He said, looking me in the eyes with the same calculating hunger the boss did. "Now, a pet I could bring to parties and loan out, I could definitely use."

Marcia, who had Christie pinned under her, with Christie's head between her legs and dick in her hand smiled at that. "A pet would be nice. Or an appliance. We could definitely use a fluffer at parties," She replied.

Reuben opened me up with one hand, and thrust inward even as he held my chin. "We could make you into a kitten and do both." He said, as I felt him hilt himself in me.

"Would you make me go around in ears and a tail?" I asked eagerly, as I looked over at Marcia and Christie.

"Of course, a kitten doesn't need clothes." Reuben said, turning my head to face him. I hated looking into those lecherous eyes, but did it anyway so I could adjust my expressions and stay seductive.

Then Marcia reached over, and cupped my breast, pinching a nipple in the process. "I think with tits that big we'd be better off keeping her as a cow."

My eyes flashed with panic for a fraction of a second before I managed to get myself back under control. I prayed my bosses knew how much I meant to their nephew and grandson, and that they wouldn't sell me off to people like these.

"I don't know. They feel small for udders." Reuben said, as he stopped pumping into me momentarily.

"They'd get bigger once she's knocked up and her milk comes in." Marcia replied. "Like our nanny."

Reuben's eyes narrowed and he flashed a wide toothy smile at the thought of that. The thrusting began again, now even faster and rougher.

 

I felt my eyes widen as the panic set in, and his smile went even wider at the sight. No, I couldn't. I couldn't be an animal, not after I've worked this hard. The idea of this man's child growing inside me filled me with a revulsion I couldn't put back in its box, and for a moment I sympathised with and understood why my mother abandoned a half-Tajik memento of her own rape and condemned me to slavery even as she was currently a free woman.

Green at the gills, I then felt my stomach churn and acid burn up my throat. I knew what came next, and barely managed to turn my head in time. So, as Reuben finally came inside me, I vomited across the pillow and bedspread, reaching as far as the clock radio on the nightstand next to the bed.

Reuben pulled out and backed away, looking unsurprised by what had happened even as a trail of semen continued to connect us, allowing me to sit up and continue hyperventilating as vomit dripped onto my breast and semen dripped onto the sheets.

Marcia had managed to get her hand away when I turned, so she wasn't affected and kept riding Christie's cock to her own satisfaction even as Christie glanced over at me in concern. Eventually, they softened enough Marcia couldn't get any enjoyment out of it, and she allowed Christie to walk me to the bathroom and start cleaning me up as my manager was dragged out of our office to meet with a client for the first time in my life.

While I was washed, and I managed to get myself back under control, Iris struck a deal with my clients. Even though they were apparently completely into it, as I was obviously ill with some sort of stomach bug, Christie and I would be replaced at no additional cost to them and they'd get a complimentary round of drinks at the bar with Christie while the room was cleaned.

I...

... could take the hit financially.

Once again, I found myself naked and on my bed in my cramped staff room, clothes once again strewn around the floor and dangling from my sconce and lamps, looking up at my partner, and the closest thing I had to a lover.

Christie was still clothed, and was drinking something that smelled alcoholic out of a can. Working hours for us were officially over, and I'd be kept in the back of house or on wall-duty until this pair of paypigs left the resort since I was 'sick'. Standard procedure, really.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like that." They said between sips. "Do you think you'll be fine tonight? Iris is understanding if it happens occasionally, but twice in a day will get you moved."

"I hope so." I croaked. "I can't do this again. If I do, I don't think I'll make it, and if I stop I know I won't."

"You can't do this tonight." Christie said definitively, "I'm calling Iris and Ciela, you're actually on medical right now. I'll ask if Ciela can pick you up so you'll even be off-premises for the night."

"I need a way out. Something, anything." I said, trying to hold back tears.

"Mint, you and I both know the only way out is through. You've got to either buy your way out, or find someone willing to make a trophy wife out of a whore. Same as the rest of us." Christie replied, before taking a big swig of their can before tossing the empty in the bin, where it bounced off a wayward bra.

"I could always beg him."

"Honestly, do it. Tell the boss and your manager, and steal that boy back the next time he visits. Worst thing he can do is say no." They said, as they popped open another can.

Slouching into myself, my jaw tightened. Some refusals burned more than others, and if that scrap of hope died- would I have anything left?

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