The waitress returned, setting my water and Miko's cherry juice on the human table. I grabbed the glass, sipping awkwardly while standing, the cold liquid doing nothing to calm me. Miko drank hers like she was at a fucking brunch, unfazed, her aura radiating confidence.

"I have to talk to her," I muttered to myself, eyeing Sarah across the room, reapplying her lipstick on a guy's back. "But how…"

"From what I understand, Evan," Miko said, scanning the room, "men here are treated as slaves. Look at that woman go."

I followed her gaze—a woman bouncing on a guy's dick, him on the floor, barking under a dog collar, her hand slapping his face, leaving red fingerprints on his cheeks. My stomach twisted. What the fuck was this place?

"Come on," Miko said, her smirk unwavering. "I'll do the talking."

"Wait, what?" I started, but a pink dog collar, pulsing with faint energy, materialized around my neck, the weight light but electric. I froze, my hand brushing it. "What the hell?"

Miko stood, crouching to pat her "chair" on the back. "Good boy," she said. The guy shuddered, cumming in his leather pants, his body shaking. Jesus fucking Christ.

She then grabbed the leash attached to my collar and tugged, walking toward Sarah. I stumbled after her, my heart pounding.

"Hello!" Miko said, her smile bright as she reached Sarah. "Saw you sitting alone. May we accompany you?"

Sarah looked up from her mirror, her blonde hair catching the light, and smiled. "Of course." Her eyes met mine, scanning me. "Such a handsome slave you got there."

Handsome? Fuck yeah, charm points paying off.

I stood straighter, the collar tight.

Miko chuckled, sitting on the same guy Sarah used as a seat, their "chair" grunting slightly. "I'm Miko," she said.

"Sarah. Nice to meet you," Sarah replied, snapping her mirror shut.

'I need her weakness, something to make her stop bullying Delilah,' I thought. But this place, Miko, the collar—nothing was going as planned.

"Never seen you around," Sarah said, tilting her head. "You two new here?"

"Yep," Miko said, crossing her legs, her skirt riding higher. "We are. Gotta say, this place is nice. My masseur and I love it."

"Masseur?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why, yes." Miko pointed at me, her smirk wicked. "Mike here is my masseur. He's so good, Sarah, let me tell you. You feel like you're in heaven when he massages you."

"Oh," Sarah said, her eyes lighting up. "Now I'm jealous."

"He can massage you if you want," Miko said, winking at me. "But I warn you, he has what they call 'magic fingers.' Be careful."

"We can use the backroom," Sarah said, standing, her dress hugging her curves. "Come on, slave. Follow me."

Slave?

Oh, you fucking bitch. Just wait.

I linked my hands behind my back, the system UI flaring as I bought a Sensual Massage Oil.

╭────────────────────╮

- SHOP

==========================

• Aphrodisiac Drink (10c)

• Silk Lingerie Set (25c)

• Sensual Massage Oil (15c)

• Mystery Pleasure Toy (30c)

• Flirt Potion (20c)

• Hypnotic Perfume (40c)

• Time Stop (90c)

• 500 Dollars (50c)

• 1 Ability Point (150c)

==========================

- Credits: 235c

- Select item to purchase.

╰────────────────────╯

The club's red and purple neon pulsed, the air heavy with sweat and moans, the bass thudding in my chest. Sarah stood, her tight dress clinging to her curves, and gestured toward a corner of the room. I followed, my pink collar pulsing faintly, the leash dangling loose since Miko let it go. She waved at me from the human table, her pink hair glowing, her smirk wicked. I nodded back, forcing a smile, then kept pace with Sarah.

The crowd parted—men crawling, women lounging on their backs, the surreal nightmare of the room making my skin crawl.

We reached a small booth tucked in the corner, a heavy black curtain shielding it from the chaos. Sarah pushed it aside, revealing a cramped space with a long table in the center, a worn leather couch against one wall. The table was cluttered—empty drink glasses, an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, a wilted flower in a cracked vase.

Sarah kicked the mess off with her leg, the glasses clattering to the floor, the flower skidding into a corner. She climbed onto the table, lying on her back, her blonde hair fanning out, her dress riding up her thighs.

"Well?" she said, her voice sharp, expectant. "Get to it, slave."

I exhaled, popping the cap on the Sensual Massage Oil, the faint scent of lavender and musk filling the air. "Alright," I said, pouring a generous amount into my hands, the liquid warm and slick. "Let's see what those magic fingers can do."

I started at her shoulders, my hands gliding over her skin, the oil making it shimmer under the dim booth light. She moaned instantly, her body tensing then relaxing, her eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck," she gasped, her voice low, "that's… intense."

"Feels good, huh?" I said, keeping my tone neutral, working down her arms, my fingers firm but smooth. The oil's effect was immediate—her breathing hitched, her thighs shifting. "You come here a lot?" I asked, probing, trying to keep her talking.

"Yeah," she said, her voice breathy, her body arching slightly as I moved to her collarbone. "It's… liberating. You get to be in control. Unlike outside." Her eyes opened, narrowing. "Why do you care?"

"Just curious," I said, my hands sliding to her sides, grazing the edge of her dress. "You seem like you run the show here."

She smirked, but it faltered as my fingers pressed deeper, the oil amplifying every touch. "I do," she said, moaning again, her hips twitching. "People do what I want. Always."

'Not for long,' I thought, my jaw tightening.

I leaned in closer, one hand gripping her throat lightly, my fingers firm but not choking. "You fucking slut," I said, my voice low, dark. "You think you're in charge? You're mine now." My other hand slid down, under her dress, finding her pussy, already wet, and I pushed a finger inside.

She gasped, her body squirming, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" she stammered, but her hips bucked as I moved my finger, the oil making her slick, her body betraying her. She came hard, her thighs trembling, a sharp moan escaping her lips, her face flushing red.

"Delilah," I said, my hand still on her throat, my finger working her, drawing out another shudder. "You like to bully her, huh? Like making her life hell?"

"Oh, god…" she panted, her body shaking from the aftershocks. "This is…"

"Let's see how you like it when someone treats you the same way," I growled, my voice dripping with venom. I pulled my hand back, wiping it on her dress, and kept massaging her thighs, pouring more oil, her skin glistening. Each touch sent her squirming, the oil's magic making her cum again, her moans louder, desperate.

"You're nothing but a pathetic little bitch, Sarah. All that tough talk, and look at you—whimpering under my hands."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but another wave hit her, her body arching, her breath ragged. "Fuck you," she spat, but her voice cracked, weak.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, my hands rougher now, kneading her hips, her body trembling under the oil's magical effect. "You think you can push people around? Make Delilah cry? You're a fucking coward, Sarah. A sad, desperate slut who needs to feel big by stepping on others."

She glared, but her body betrayed her again, another orgasm ripping through her, her moans turning to whimpers. I stepped back, my cock straining against my jeans, and unzipped, pulling it out, hard and throbbing.

"Get up," I ordered, crossing my arms, my voice cold. "Suck my cock, whore. Now."

Sarah hesitated, her face a mix of defiance and humiliation, but she slid off the table, her legs shaky, her dress bunched up. She knelt, her eyes locked on mine, angry but submissive.

"Fine," she muttered, her hands reaching for me, stroking slow at first, her fingers trembling.

The oil was working. Making her want to cum over and over again. Slut.

She leaned in, licking my balls, her tongue warm, hesitant, then sniffed them, her breath hot against my skin. My cock twitched, and she took it in her mouth, her lips wrapping around the head, sucking softly, then harder.

"That's it," I growled, my voice low and biting, gripping Sarah's blonde hair as she knelt before me, her lips wrapped around my cock.

The Sensual Massage Oil glistened on her skin, the booth's dim red light casting shadows across her trembling form.

"Look at you, Sarah. Big bad bully, sucking my cock like a desperate whore. You're fucking nothing." I dripped a drop of the oil onto my shaft, the slick warmth making her moan, her tongue swirling faster, her hands stroking me with frantic need. She took me deep, gagging softly, her watering eyes locked on mine, a mix of defiance and submission.

"Pathetic," I said, tugging her hair harder, guiding her mouth. "Thought you were hot shit, huh? Now you're choking on my dick, right where you belong."

he oil's magic made her lips tingle, her movements desperate, her whimpers muffled as she sucked harder, her hands gripping my thighs. My cock throbbed, the heat building, her tongue relentless. But I wasn't done—not yet. I pulled back, my breath heavy, and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up.

"Why the fuck do you bully Delilah?" I demanded, my voice sharp, my grip on Sarah's chin like iron, forcing her to meet my eyes in the dim booth, the air thick with the scent of Sensual Massage Oil. "What's your deal, Sarah? Why her?"

She wiped her mouth, her face flushed, the oil's effects making her squirm, her thighs twitching under her bunched-up dress. A twisted smirk flickered across her lips, cruel and unapologetic. "It's… not personal," she muttered, her voice low, dripping with venom. "I don't hate her. It's just… too fucking easy."

"Easy?" I snarled, my fingers tightening, her skin hot under my grip. "You get off on breaking her? What kind of sick fuck are you?"

Sarah's smirk widened, her eyes glinting with malice, like she was savoring every word. "I'm not the one calling the shots," she said, her voice taunting, leaning in slightly, her breath hot against my face. "I get orders. But I love it, Evan. She's so fragile, crying in her cubicle, thinking no one sees. I set up a hidden camera in the office bathroom—caught her changing, crying, pissing, shitting, all of it. I sell those clips to the guys at work. They pay big for her shame."

Her smirk turned vicious.

"And that's not all. I've got upskirt shots from her desk, her skirt riding up when she's distracted. Those sell even better. Oh, and the death threats? Anonymous texts from burner numbers, telling her to kill herself. Keeps her awake at night, jumping at shadows. It's fucking hilarious."

My blood turned to ice, rage surging so hard my vision blurred. "You're a fucking monster," I spat, my hand shaking, barely stopping myself from crushing her jaw. "You're selling her body, her fear, for kicks? You're filth, Sarah."

She shrugged, her smirk unfazed, her voice cold as steel. "It's a game. She's weak, pathetic, a nobody. I'm just showing her where she belongs. Even this is a game. If you think you're some bigshot..." Her eyes locked on mine, defiant, relishing her cruelty, like she was daring me to do something. "If you think you are stronger than me, then you can get to have me."

"Orders? From who?" I growled, my knuckles white, my grip so tight her head tilted back.

Her jaw clenched, the smirk fading just a fraction, but her gaze stayed cold. "Doesn't matter," she said, her voice flat, venomous. "Just… drop it."

"Oh, no," I said, my voice dark, stepping closer, towering over her. "You don't get to dodge this." I grabbed the oil bottle, pouring a stream into my hand, the lavender and musk scent filling the booth. "Get on the table. Now. I'll fuck that ass."

"My…"

"Get. On. The. Fucking. Table."

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