Trinity's shift at The Tipsy Tavern started like any other Tuesday. The 22-year-old waitress stepped into the little room off the kitchen that served as a makeshift locker room. It was really just a small shower stall with some bins for personal items. She went through all the motions she always went through before she started her shift. She tossed her bag in the bin with her name on it. She tied her apron around her waist. She slipped off her panties and hung them on the hook by the door where she saw the four other pairs of the servers already on the clock. Then she looked into the mirror and stared deep into her own eyes.
"The customer is always right," she said in a suddenly lifeless voice. "Carelessness begets carelessness. Mistakes beget mistakes. The punishment for failure is my mind."
She blinked, life returning to her eyes, and stepped out onto the floor for another night of serving drinks and mediocre bar food.
The first mistake happened around 7:30 PM when she spilled a beer while delivering it to table three. As she mopped up the mess with a rag, she suddenly decided to tug on her top, showing a little more cleavage above the line of her apron. And when she stood, her walk back to the bar suddenly had an extra sway to her hips.
"Sorry about that," she giggled to the bartender, surprising herself with the flirtatious tone. "Clumsy me!"
Two hours later, she forgot table seven's order entirely. When the customers complained, Trinity found herself twirling a strand of hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! You guys must think I'm, like, totally airheaded today." She didn't notice how her vocabulary had shifted slightly, or how she'd begun playing with the collar of her uniform shirt, inadvertently unbuttoning another button. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
The husband opened his mouth as if he were going to make some request, but his wife batted his arm and shot him a look. He ended up just telling her it was forgiven. She felt somehow dissatisfied with his forgiveness.
By 10 PM, the transformation was accelerating. When she brought the wrong side dishes to a table of businessmen, she responded to their complaints with a pouty lip and a giggle. "I'm soooo sorry! My brain must be on vacation today." She bent over to clear their plates letting her tits spill all the way out of her top. The one whose side had been wrong stole a quick grope of her before she managed to put herself back together. She giggled and promised him an extra serving of his side for understanding.
The first "tip" came when a middle-aged man who was openly rubbing her ass under her apron let one of his fingers slide up into her shockingly wet pussy. Instead of recoiling, Trinity found herself blushing and giggling. "You're naughty!" she teased, her voice higher than usual. "I like you."
The mistakes and the changes were coming faster now. Spilled drinks, forgotten orders, wrong bills. Each error chipped away at her intelligence while amplifying her flirtatiousness and libido. Her uniform became progressively more disheveled as she absentmindedly unbuttoned more of her shirt throughout the night, eventually letting her tits just bounce out of her top freely as she practically skipped from table to table.
Customers began to try and order her instead of food. She was happy to give them her prices as she led them into that back locker room or into the men's room. She'd emerge a little while later a little more disheveled and a lot sillier.
By midnight, Trin was a shadow of her former self. Her hair was messy from constantly running her hands through it, her makeup was smudged and streaked. Fluids of various kinds stained her apron. Beer, soda, sauce, cum. Her speech had degraded significantly.
"Like, what can I get you guys?" she asked a table of college students, bouncing slightly on her heels, tits getting groped by the nearest guy. "Drinks? Food? Me?"
The students exchanged looks before one spoke up. "How about you sit with us for a bit? We'll make it worth your while."
The one patted his lap, where his hard cock was poking out from the waistband of his gym shorts. Trinity squealed with delight as she slid herself down onto his shaft, feeling him fill her up right there in front of all his buddies.
God she was such a dumb whore.
The next hour was a blur of bouncing and moaning and having her tits groped and pinched and abused. She lifted herself off the last guy at the table, having taken all eight of their loads into her unprotected pussy.
"Thanks for the tip, boys," she giggled. "Make sure you come and see me again soon."
"Trinity where the fuck have you been?" the manager barked at her as she walked back into the kitchen, cum running down her leg in a viscous stream. "You have tables that haven't seen you in an hour. Poor Maddie has had to cover you."
Across the kitchen, Maddie looked over with a dreamy smile as a load of someone's seed dripped off her face.
"She's covered alright," Trin said, licking her lips. "Like, don't worry Mr. Boss Man. I got a great table that I was taking such good care of."
She handed him the wad of cash the boys had given her, which made the manager change his tone.
"Well, in that case, all is forgiven. I'm glad you were working."
"Speaking of which, my shift is almost over." She ran a finger across his chest and batted her eyes. "Are you free to evaluate my performance?"
"Unfortunately Gabby isn't following her programming quite well enough yet and she needs another training session. But don't worry. You're always one of my best sluts, Trin," he said with a smile.
Trin went back into the little room. She stripped out of her uniform and turned on the showerhead. She let the filth of all her various mistakes and remedies wash off her and swirl down the drain. She plucked her panties off the hook and slipped them back on with the rest of her clean clothes. She returned to the mirror one more time before she left, again letting the depth of her own eyes take her deep into trance.
"My shift is over. My mistakes are forgiven. My mind is returned. My tips are forgotten."
As Trinity walked out the back door toward her car, she saw the manager ushering Gabriella into his office, the spiraling screen already playing.
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