You stared at yourself in the dirty bathroom mirror. The weight on your shoulders hung down over the outfit they’d given you. A leather corset digging into your chest, pushing your tits up until they almost spilled out of the cups. Fishnets went along your legs and up to the leather skirt draping down where you pressed your thighs together. The promise of what was coming sent a shudder through you. But it was your best option.

Quite literally, it was your only option.

Pay off a debt and walk away with $2,000.00. The wicked, sharp-toothed smile of the loan shark was burned into you while he sat on the edge of his desk and looked down at you. A job to work–that’s what he called it. One night. All night was the key. But you’d be helping him out so, naturally, he’d help you out.

When you agreed so reluctantly, he tossed a bag at you and pointed you toward the bathroom to change. A van was waiting outside for you with a few others taking the same deal. The job started the second you walked out of the bathroom; there was no going home and flaking out. Not that he wouldn’t have just tacked that onto your growing debt anyway. He knew how to track you down, after all. 

So, you changed into the skimpy outfit. He’d already alluded to what the job was without directly saying it. Serving some customers exactly how they want. Serving them with yourself, all night, until that debt was paid dirty and in full. The extra $2k…. You needed it. The icing on top of the fucked-up cake.

He’d planned it ahead of time, he must’ve. Everything fit almost perfectly, even the thigh-high black boots that matched the stiff leather skirt and corset. Underneath, a red thong was sheer lace, holding nothing back if a gust of wind came for you. But that was the point.

Leaving your dignity in the bathroom, you ventured out. The sneering have fun from the loan shark leaning in his doorway was a shiver of humiliation down your spine. What were you doing? Paying off a debt. You kept repeating it to yourself all the way down the hallway and out to the van waiting. The driver was standing by the open side door, arms crossed, smoking; he eyed you with a once over you figured he’d given everyone else who walked out that door. Another poor soul.

You approached in silence. There were about six others crammed into the benches in the van, all trying not to touch each other when they hardly had anything on. Similar skimpy leather outfits went over them, too. Fishnets and leather galore. 

“Here.”

The driver held out his hand. A single red pill sat in the dead center. A little devil was pressed into the center of it. 

“It’ll make the job…easier.” He took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it over by the dumpster. “Will help so you don’t remember much of the depravity either, too, if you prefer that.”

So it really was going to be that kind of night, then.

A deep breath gave you a mouthful of Marlboro Lights. But you plucked up the pill and dry swallowed it. It tasted like cinnamon and ash lingering on your tongue. It burned a little in your throat. Still, you climbed in next to another woman, her leg bouncing incessantly. 

The side door shut. The van jostled when the driver climbed in and slammed his door shut.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

The collective response was silence. He shrugged and drove off anyway.

The effects of the pill hit just as he pulled up to the front. The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like you were winding down twisting roads the entire time. When the side door opened and the lot of you climbed out, you were staring up at a sleek black building with neon red lights. The winter air was a little kiss to your cheeks, where a heat gradually started to rise. A blur touched the edge of your vision, but didn’t consume. Like a sheer red hue was giving you a big old hug and welcoming you into the flames of something else.

Would make it easier, huh? You swayed on your legs. Not quite tipsy, no, you were conscious as the driver pointed up to two bouncers opening up double front doors. But you felt floaty when you walked up the steps. Through the double front doors and–whoa. Into the front of a busy, blood-red club with fast music playing out of hanging speakers. Tables upon tables were full; drinks were being poured, cards were being played, and a hand at your back shoved you and the rest of you further into the club.

“Ah! The entertainment is here!” a smooth voice cooed from across the room. “We’ll start placing bets soon enough, but how about we give them a proper welcome, hm?”

They’re not human. It clicks as you stumble in another step. Horns, claws, various red skinned demons, they’re all around you. They grin and fawn, eyeing you up like you’re a piece of meat, and you are. That’s what the job was, after all. Serve them.

The flames of hellfire lick at your heels.

Those you were with are yanked to hungry fiends. A warm hand slides up between your legs and pats your cunt from behind, and you spin. The sudden invasive touch sends you staggering backward from the demon leaning against a trashcan by the doors. He waves at you as your heart starts to pound. But there’s nowhere to go; from his hand, you’re in another. Hands come around and squeeze your chest, a hard chest blocking you in. Large, clawed fingers pull at the bow tied at the front, but it doesn’t come undone. He just laughed, shoving you forward. Toward a small crowd amongst the larger.

Someone spanksed you over your skirt. Someone pulled at the bow on your corset. Another groped your chest and laughed. The blurring at the edge in that red, warm hue started to pour in more. Heat was a sudden bubble in your belly, and you tumbled as a hand on your arm yanked you down over a chair.

“Look at this one, boys!” he mused. The edge of the chair pressed into your stomach, and you kicked out at nothing while a heavy weight pinned you down. Not hands. You gasped for oxygen as he sat himself on your back, your arms pulled behind you and stuck underneath him while he straddled you. “Let’s see her now, oh…baby.”

Abruptly, the back of your skirt bunched. Warm hands hold your legs open, their fingers bruising the meat of your inner thighs as you squirm. A rush of adrenaline slammed into you right as the demon atop you laughed again. He brought his hand down onto your ass, nice and hard. Your shout erupted against the chair.

“What a fine piece of ass we’ve got ourselves. Ha. Now…let’s see your pretty holes….” 

Wait–

But all the squirming and thrashing didn’t change anything. It was the job you’d agreed to, and the job you were there to do. And pinned down like that, you’re serving them for a fully paid debt and that extra $2,000.00. The pill the driver gave you sank in all the way, and you felt it like you felt the demon ripping the fishnets open and pulling your thong to the side to expose you to the club.

He–or someone–spread you. Rough hands came with laughter and groans attached. Still, you wiggled, but you were sufficiently pinned when you felt their fingers moving in. It was degrading and dirty; they sneered when they rubbed your cunt and a glob of spit dropped onto your asshole. They spanked you again, and you yelped, trying to get your feet on the floor for support, but someone nudged at your knees, and you’re stuck on them instead.

A finger pressed against your asshole, rubbing and smearing that spit around like it was lube. The finger was big enough, and the stretch sent a flutter toward your stomach. It pressed in despite your clenching, and as you took it to its first knuckle, someone knelt behind you. A long, hot tongue dives into your cunt. It’s thick and strikingly hot–hotter than any tongue ought to be–and it writhes inside of you. Filling and invasive. It strikes a spot it shouldn’t, and you lurched, a loud moan yanked out of your throat.

“Ah, there it is! Look at you, mortal.” The demon on top of you spanked you again. Harder. The finger in your ass pushed in further; pumping in and out of you while the tongue slurped at your cunt. Lapping between your folds and toying with your clit–an interim before it slams back into your cunt to fill you disgustingly. 

Oh. But they kept hitting that spot. And…and one finger became a second already prodding at your ass. You’re not sure it’s even from the same person, let alone the same hand. But there were two fingers stretching your asshole wide; gaping. More came, and when the tongue departed, two fingers slammed into your cunt. Wet, sloppy, and loud. You screamed at the sensations; filling you up, a tongue lapping at your clit. Your thighs quivered and there was another spank. And another. And another.

It was dizzying. Another finger worked itself into your asshole, cheering all around. Shouts and screams echoed out; moans filled the space instead of music. Where the fingers left your cunt, a tongue dove in after them. Another slips under your chair, rubbing at your clit from underneath, and you can see him. His cock straining in his pants just underneath your face. He grinned at you before he touched you, and he grinned at you when he pulled the hood back from your clit and started rubbing tight, rough circles over it.

You’re there. Breaking. Another spank seared into your ass from someone in the gathering crowd. Your pussy clenched, and the demon with his face in your pussy let out a snide little laugh.

“What? Are you gonna cum?” he mused, pulling his tongue out and pistoning three fingers into you.

Yes, was the answer. You couldn’t catch your breath, then. Trapped under the demon. A fourth finger sliding into your clenching asshole, gaping you wide for someone to spit into it with a loud spat. Pleasure burned into the flicker of stretch, of pain, of degradation. The demon beneath you flicked your clit hard, and you lurched. 

Ground. You could breathe again for a moment. The demon atop you lifted up, and a hand on the back of your corset yanked you off the chair. The club spun into a blur of people as you fell onto the sticky floor. Hands pinned your legs open, two demons going back between you to lick at your holes, diving their long, spindly tongue into you with fervor. Two hands rip your corset open, spilling your tits out and leaving you without a shred of fabric to cover your chest. 

A bottle came over you quickly. Dark liquor soaking your tits and stomach. Beady red and black eyes stared down at you as they came in, drinking from you as if you were a glass. Sucking on your skin, lapping up the liquor from your belly button, and groping your chest. Rough fingers pinched your nipples and tweaked them. You started up at the collective suits and fine dresses standing over you. Pouring more drinks over you, onto you, and two fingers stuffing themselves into your mouth to pour a shot down your throat.

There was barely a chance to glimpse around you, but it’s there. The others you came with. A demon found your clit as the others kept licking at your holes, making your back arch up off the floor. There, there, there! Your eyes teared up as pleasure found itself right back at the peak you’d been ripped away from. A shot came right back to your mouth and dumped dry, bitter liquor down your throat again right as you watched one other woman paying off her debt over a table, a cock in each hole while a hand poured liquor down her throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” a demon breathed, sucking liquor off your tits and nipping at your nipple. Another tweaked one hard enough you shrieked. “Look at these tits. Can’t wait to bet on you. You’re gonna be mine for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, god. Please,” you stammered. Someone’s pulled the hood back on your clit, and you’re there. Your back arched up hard. Hands pinned your legs back and open so more could get a good look at the demons driving their tongues into you. The circles on your clit tightened and roughened, and a hand on your jaw forced your mouth open.

“Oh, baby. God’s not here,” he whispered. “Just us.”

He poured another shot down your throat as you came. Fierce–ripping through you like hellfire. You writhed on the floor, screaming, throat burning from the shot and the pull in your moan. They bit and stuffed and licked, the circle around you beaming with excitement when you erupted. Blindingly, jerking when they kept on you. Drinking off of you. Playing with your clit. Those lapping at your asshole and cunt moving so two more could take their place; fingers drove into your holes while they still spasmed and clenched. Please, it…. It was….

Your back arched again. 

“Alright! It’s betting time!” That low voice cut through the haze of another orgasm. It was there; right at the edge. But hands pulled away from you excitedly. They grabbed at you, hoisted you up. Your cunt dripped down your legs when you got to your feet. The club swayed. The liquor they’d given you was doing its job on your empty stomach, and you felt the hands pawing at your tits–groping, pinching, spanking–while someone pulled you forward. And forward. And forward some more until you were stepping onto a small stage. Onto a chair.

Your hands were pulled behind you and cuffed together or onto something. It was hard to tell when a bright spotlight was on you. A demon cuffed your ankles out to some bolts on the stage, pulling your ass to the very edge of the chair. What…? 

“Submit your bets now for Mortal #9!” A spindly demon dressed in a white tux waved their hand toward you, a mic in the other. Another rolled a cart up next to you that was hard to focus on with everything blurring together. Everything was hot. Fuzzy. Your pussy throbbed and your asshole ached. There was something on the cart. A bowl of lots of somethings. “How many little vibrators can we fit in her pussy? Whomever wins gets to fuck her for the rest of the night! Place your bets now–we start momentarily!”

Mini…vibrators? Adrenaline sparked through you. Your next heavy blink showed those mini vibrators in clear vision. Little red things with silicone cords on the end. All attached to a remote sat next to the bowl. 

You pulled at the cuffs. They couldn’t be serious? But they were. A glint to your right that wasn’t from the spotlight said they were definitely sure. You peered over at the blinking red light on a camera zooming in on you. It skimmed over you, the demon running in coming in closer to lift your skirt up to show the audience. Were there more demons watching elsewhere or was this a keepsake? Something to sell? Your head lolled back when another wave of the liquor and pill combination made your pussy clench. Oh, god, you wanted. 

You looked down at where someone had pinned your skirt back. The announcer said something else you didn’t quite hear, you were just looking down at your wet cunt. Clit swollen yet needy for attention. The pill would make it easier. A moan cracked out of you without anyone touching you. 

“Oh, she’s excited! Let’s get started, then, shall we. We’ll start with one. Now, don’t worry about cumming.” The announcer reached into the bowl and plucked out a mini vibrator. A click on the remote had it roaring to life. Loud and unapologetically. “There’s an extra bet for how many times you cum before you’re too stuffed to take more. Now, let’s see here….”

He knelt down beside you and dragged the vibrator over your clit first. You jolted; the sudden ache for more was painful. Excitement murmured across the crowd. You couldn’t see much when the spotlight was so bright. Just the demon’s hands as he parted your cunt and slowly pushed the harshly vibrating bullet deep into you. It was hardly anything, it was so small, but you could feel the strength of it. 

“Oh. Oh, my….” you cracked out.

He reached into the loudly humming bowl of toys and plucked out a second. Your head fell back as he pushed it in. 

“There you go, that’s twoooo.” The rough pads of his fingers rubbed your clit. “Doesn’t that feel good, mortal?”

You answered with a moan. 

That earned a laugh from the crowd. 

A third vibrator was plucked up. He brushed it over your clit then brought it back, holding it there while you writhed. Thrashed. It was so much. Fuck. It felt so good. Your hips bucked, and he pulled it away before you came. As your pussy spasmed, he stuffed the third one in. The stretch was building, and he pushed his finger in with it, nudged the toys there inside of you.

“Getting full already, huh?” He turned his finger and pressed it up. Against a toy nudging against your g-spot. Stars shot through your vision, but he was already pulling his finger out. “Don’t know how much more this mortal can take. Let’s see if she can fit a fourth!”

Four.

Five.

Your hips jerked up off the chair when he pushed the sixth in, your cunt stuffed to the brim, all of them nudging each other and your clenching walls. You dripped down onto the floor as the eager crowd cheered. There. There. Again! You humped the air; there was no escaping the onslaught of the toys inside of you. You couldn’t pull away or lower the strength. And despite the lack of attention on your clit, you got there. Grinding against nothing, legs trying to close, tears streaming down your face. You cracked out a choked moan as you came around the toys. Gushing. Spraying over your thighs to cheers and shouts and whistles. The camera zoomed in on the mess, the hum of the announcer’s voice carrying over about extra bets for if you were a squirter or not. 

And then he brought a seventh vibrator to you. You thrashed in the chair, the assault of the others wreaking havoc on your sensitive g-spot. It was too much. But they weren’t stopping and he wasn’t reaching for the remote. You wanted to scream; you might’ve been. He pushed the seventh vibrator into you with a smidge of resistance, and went immediately for an eighth.

It didn’t fit.

Drool dribbled down your chin as you choked on every breath that only came halfway. Couldn’t. Your cunt spasmed. Couldn’t!! Your hip jerked into the air. There it was again, another. Rippling through you painfully toward that edge. You couldn’t, it was too much, too much–too much! The announcer pressed down on your hips and held the eighth vibrator to your clit.

Again.

The club blacked out into white-hot, searing pleasure. You came again, squirting over the chair and onto the stage. Viciously–shaking uncontrollably while he rubbed that little vibrator over your clit again and again. Drawing out every drop he could get out of you. 

“Well, there we have it, folks!” 

Click.

You dripped down onto the stage still. The vibrators turned off. Someone else came up and pulled each one out of you one by one.

“Seven total in that pretty pussy. Came twice, and is a squirter. Extra bets won will be given out at the counter, but our lucky winner tonight? The one and our, our patron!”

The crowd blurred. You were uncuffed once you were empty, and someone helped you sit up. The announcer leaned in with a pat on your shoulder that felt only condescending. Beady black eyes looked down at you with a snide smile attached.

“You’ll be with him for the rest of the night, mortal. Behave, he’s got company here.”

A slap to your cheek marked your removal from the stage. He carried on to the next task while another debt-cleared human was brought up after you. Forced on their knees to see how many bulbous vibes they could fit in their ass, and if they licked up your cum, they’d put a few in their cunt to make them cum, too.

You were brought to a VIP section up some steps off to the right. It was still out in the rest of the club, but clearly roped off. Two demons helped you up to who’d won you, and you fell with two hands resting on the table in front of him so you didn’t fall on the floor. He sat back, large in every sense of the word, red eyes looking you over. Two horns poked out of the top of his head and dark salt and pepper hair. A goblet of wine was in one hand that he’d clearly just drank from; he licked what’d spilled away from his mouth, and waved a finger for you to come to him. 

You did. Stumbling, thighs brushing against each other wet and sticky. 

“Pretty thing. Turn around and take your skirt off. Bend over for me.” 

You did. The ache in your tummy was still there despite how your pussy hummed from the lingering sensations of the vibrators. You dropped your skirt, first, wiggling out so it fell past your curves and onto the floor. Then, you slid in front of him, and bent over the table. You’d aimed for your hands, but with the alcohol and the pill and freshly climaxing twice like that on stage…. You fell to your elbows. 

“Pretty thing,” he mused again, and he gave your ass a light spank. “Spread yourself. I’m taking you full.”

Full….

You moaned even before you pressed yourself flat to the table. You reached back and kept yourself spread, staring at the group seated with and near him watching you in silence. Eagerness, but silence. And–oh. A lubed finger pushed into your ass. Bigger than those before, but nothing as full as the four that’d shoved into you at the start. Your back arched when he worked it into you. Deep, deep, and deeper, until a second joined. A third, then, quickly followed. And your hands were trembling when he pulled out and a thick, silicone head pushed past your asshole. Stretching you wide and filling you up swiftly.

The flared base locked it into you.

Oh, fuck–

Click.

It hummed to life with a vibration strong enough to ricochet your moan across the area, and he laughed quietly. 

“Come here, now. Give me your pretty pussy. I have business to finish.”

B-Business…?

You staggered back toward him. Hands found you swiftly, and you weren’t standing anymore. Thick thighs framed you for a second, the head of a fat cock brushed against your cunt, and then you’re brought down. Oh, mother of god. He was huge. Stretching you wider than the vibrators did, nudging up against the vibrator in your asshole, and you…he was going to break you. He was going to ruin you. He–

You fell onto his lap, quivering.

“There we go,” he said, giving your lower stomach a pat. “Now, Ulric, I need you to finish out the ledger before the end of day tomorrow, m’kay?” He looked over at someone at the table. They nodded. “Great. And, Rickie, would you send Gallard over? I owe him a drink.”

His hips rutted up once, and you lazily bounced on his cock. Sweet merciful god. You fell back against his chest, and he reached up, palming your tits. Rolled a nipple like it was something idle to do, and you whined. 

That was how it carried on. He kept his cock nestled inside of you while he handled his business with every other person there. Sometimes thrusting up into you, sometimes just fondling your tits. He rubbed your clit for a little bit while he waited for an answer from someone. Your thighs started to shake and he chuckled, lifting his finger and rutting up into you again. More times in quick succession that time, but you didn’t cum.

He let a few visitors fondle you, too. While he enjoyed his drink, petting your side like you were a pet. The toy in your ass humming loud and hard, wiggling against his thick girth inside your cunt. Strangers’ hands came in and groped softly at your tits. It wasn’t like before–dragging you down with who could get to you to make you scream first. They tweaked a nipple before giving it a light flick, but that was it.

It’s only when he finished his third drink does he finally fuck you. It was still languid thrusts, slowly fucking you while he rubbed your clit. It didn’t take long, though. You were there–had been there the whole fucking time. Lost in a haze of wanting to cum so badly, you didn’t want to believe it. But when that pleasure careened over you, you moaned high-pitched and wantonly, falling forward on his last few thrusts. You squirted around him in a mess quickly added to by him, his hands on your hips to keep you from falling onto the ground, pumping his cum into you in thick, full, burning ropes.

Something inside of you flipped. His cum coating your walls, his fingers working your clit. Your eyes rolled back and you felt so floaty and full; sweaty and hot. You mewled when he pulled you off his cock, and patted your wet cunt.

“Go ahead.”

You’re not sure who he’d said it to–you or the demon unbuckling his belt. But you’re already crawling over to him, your mouth watering and hands itching. The sensations sink so deep into you, you want the patron back inside of you. Fucking you again. Oh, god. You needed it. It was bad–you knew that. The fading voice of reason was only just fading–still there, still reminding you that this was only for the night. 

“Just your hands, pretty thing.” The patron sat back with his phone out. You glanced back to see him holding it up to you. Recording. “Let them paint you all pretty for me.”

It blurred together. Every cock you wound up with in your fists. Some pulled you up onto the table so you could get at them easily while the boss recorded. Everything was wrapped in the heat of hell, dancing around you and burning you with each person you touched. They grunted over you, jerking off into your fists, spilling over you. Again. And again. Over and over. Cum dripping down your tits and onto your stomach. It came over your thighs, hands, and your chin. Fingers worked their way into your cunt and fucked the dildo in your ass into you, marking you arch off the table. 

It was an endless sea of pleasure. It came wave after wave; your back sore from how you arched. Your cunt stuffed full of the boss’ cum, still, even when fingers rubbed your clit and worked into you to make you whine and moan. 

He recorded you still, smiling at you when you smiled at him. Wanting that cock of his back inside of you. Wrong. Your head lolled back as you came again. The red flag waving in the back of your mind faint and dying in wind that wasn’t blowing. Wrong…. You cooed into the camera, wanting his attention again, and he hummed. He traded his phone for you, and pulled you back onto his lap. Cock back inside of you, your hands falling onto his chest.

“The night is ending soon, pretty one,” he hummed, groping at your ass while lifting you up and down on his cock. “Don’t you want to stay?” He fucked into you harder. Oh, god, yes. Yes! “Stay with me. It just takes a little signature. Stay, pretty one. And I will treat you like this every night.” Slower–oh, he fucked you so much slower. “Stay with me.”

Yes. Yes. But your head lolled back. You didn’t need much. You were already there. Yes. Yes. Fuck! You rocked your hips and your clit found him, grinding up against him, still stretched and full…. Oh, fuck, yes.

You came around him, hard, shuddering and crying.

The tears raked down your cheeks, black spots flitting into your vision. He cupped the back of your head when it fell back. His thumb brushed over your mouth, and you moaned. It was hardly anything that pushed you over, but you spasmed, the last of your energy…done.

“Night’s over, Relgan,” echoed in a familiar voice.

You smelled Marlboro Lights. 

A quiet grumbling vibrated in the boss’ chest, and suddenly you were bounced up and into fast and deep. Your whines kicked out of you as he fucked you, pulling you down on his cock when he tensed up and came. Spilled inside of you again. Every drop given to you.

Two hands went under you.

Your skirt was draped over your shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” was muttered next to you, and the club faded out.

Everything faded out.

You blinked at your front door. The world was all wobbly, including the key in your hand. Home. Home. You got the key in on the sixth try, and struggled with the lock that only gave when someone else reached up and got it for you. A hand was soft on your back when you staggered in, and the door shut behind you with a soft click. Oh, your couch. Your couch! You fell stomach-first onto it, face buried in a throw pillow, and then…darkness.

Swift, soothing, sweet darkness.

It’d been dark through your window when you’d closed your eyes.

When you woke, a gasping breath waking you on your back, it was bright outside. Really bright. The light of the sun too bright, and you covered your eyes. What…? You blinked. You were sprawled out on your couch in the old jeans you’d pulled on in a quick hurry so you wouldn’t be late meeting the loan shark. Loan shark.

You jolted up–

“Oh, my god.”

Sore. Sore everywhere. Sore along your back, your chest, your bottom, your asshole, your cunt. You were suddenly saying bye to the couch as you fell onto the floor, your body clenching up from all the aches and pains, and that accidental tumble just made it worse. Holy….

Your bag. You knocked into it in your fall, and it was open. A bundle of $20.00 bills fell out. A lot of $20.00 bills. There was a note attached. 

The job. Your stomach lurched. The night was a dark blur. Nothing came forward as you reached for the little note, the handwriting unfamiliar. But you swore you could smell cigarette smoke on it.

Debt’s cleared. Boss has an associate that wants to meet you. 

There was a phone number attached, but….

A tiny red flag waved in the darkness of the memories.

You tore the note to shreds. No. Whatever it was…. You had $2,000.00 to help you get your shit together. Whatever was on that note was bad news. Even if you couldn’t remember it. You weren’t going to risk it.

You forced yourself to your feet and locked the money into the safe under your bed.

Last night was a fluke. A debt paid–however it happened in that blank abyss.

You climbed into the shower to enjoy the scolding hot water that felt so familiar in ways you couldn’t understand.