A Woman's Role

Ch.7

The Hot-Cold Game

Samantha woke to the clattering and suction noise of the pneumatic tube. With a ding, a new container arrived and the door opened automatically to reveal four fresh skinsuits, collars, padlocks, leashes, four white dresses, and four white gel-balls with white permaseals to match. The standard HaremCo uniform, she thought.

The other slavegirls rose shakily out of bed, rubbing their eyes, and Jessica groaned into the mouthplug beneath her glued lips. She was still chained to the bed and encased in vacuum-sealed black latex. Abby woke quickly and darted to her own bed. That was smart, they might not want women sleeping together.

With a whirr and metallic clang, the door unlocked and opened to reveal Nicole, already dressed but ungagged, along with a guard dressed in all black with his mirrored sunglasses masking his gaze.

"Wakey-wakey, hoes," she cackled with a wicked grin, "especially you, bitch," she glared at Jessica and marched to her side, followed by the guard. She ran a finger over Jessica's tightly-sealed breasts and chuckled before speaking. "Last night was rough for you, wasn't it? Well I have some bad news for you: today won't be any easier." Jessica whimpered, her eyes pleading. "Just know you'll have to get four five star ratings in a row now to make up for the one star you got last night for acting out."

Was Nicole always this mean, Samantha wondered? She was barely over five feet tall, couldn't have weighed more than 120 pounds soaking wet, but she terrified Samantha. It looked like she terrified Jessica, too. Samantha was glad she'd put up with Clay the night before, so she wasn't catching this kind of heat.

"All right, bitches, listen up. I'm going to get Jessica here out of her sack, and I'm going to dress her by force if she resists. Test me, bitch, and I'll strap you to the bed for another whole day. We can go as long as you want," Nicole bent down and planted a sarcastic kiss on Jessica's full, pouty glued lips while the woman groaned and whined wordlessly.

"The rest of you have until she's dressed to get ready. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, finish every last drop of your water and food, then suit up, gag yourself, and place the key to your collar in the tube's container when you're done. Now, sluts, go!"

"Yes mistress," the three snapped quickly, as the guard approached Jessica and began releasing her from her sleepsask.

Samantha was shocked to find she didn't need the bathroom. That nite-ball must have gotten everything out of her last night. Instead, she raised herself on hands and knees to the dispensers at the head of her bed, and sucked greedily until the water and sweet, herbal smoothie were emptied. Maybe it was the compounds in the smoothie, but she felt refreshed, and eager for the day. Her body was radiating a gentle warm feeling, and she felt calm and serene. She knew she should be nervous for what the day would hold, but for now she was eager to get back in her skinsuit, to feel the latex hugging her and the tingle of the medicated lube on her skin.

"Hey Abby," she chirped, "come help me get dressed, we can zip each other up like regular girlfriends!"

"Okay, Samantha. Thank you! I mean, thank you, really, for everyth-"

"Don't worry about it," Samantha stopped her, "I don't think we should be chatting right now."

"That's right, bitch!" Nicole chimed in, "you're a perceptive one, aren't you? Now get dressed, and gag yourself first. Nothing like a stim-ball first thing in the morning. You'll see."

"Stim-ball?" Samantha asked, then regretted it as Nicole whipped around, grabbed one of the white gel-balls from the tube's container, and tossed it on the ground by Samantha.

"That's a stim-ball. Think of it as your shut-the-fuck up pill you take in the morning. Now get on all fours, pick that ball up with your mouth, and bring it over to me. Crawl."

Samantha was stunned for a moment but obeyed quickly, not wanting to displease Nicole. She didn't want what happened to Jessica happening to her. She dropped on all fours on the floor, crawled over to the ball, and lifted it from the ground in her teeth. She worked it between her teeth, the medicinal rubbery taste permeating her mouth, then crawled over to Nicole, craning her neck up to look at her cruel Mistress. It was hard to imagine such a domineering woman as a slavegirl, but she remembered hearing that Nicole was known for her work as a doll with the Dollhouse. She must have high standards because she lives up to them herself, supposed Samantha.

Nicole removed the backing from a white permaseal, then held it out, stretched between her hands, sticky side pointed to Samantha.

"Go ahead, gag yourself. Press your mouth into the permaseal, now."

Samantha lowered her lips into the sticky strip of latex, feeling it instantly adhere and seal her lips around the squishy stim-ball, then pressing her face forward until it stretched between Nicole's hands and covered her cheeks. As she raised her face from her mistress' hands, her mouth was firmly plastered shut, the ball lodged tightly behind her teeth. Nicole smirked and turned to the others.

"See girls, that's a proper slave. See, Jessica? That's your role model, you follow her example."

Jessica was out of the sleepsack and totally naked. She whimpered as the guard rubbed solvent on her glued lips, then spit out a mouthplug with a stream of drool behind it.

"You're running out of time, girls. Get dressed," she said to Lisa, Abby, and Samantha, before turning to Jessica and cackling, "time for breakfast! Get your mouth on that nozzle."

Samantha hurriedly started struggling into her skinsuit as Lisa and Abby reluctantly gagged themselves then followed suit. The girls zipped each other's suits up, then locked collars on each other's necks before placing the keys in the tube's container. Samantha noticed there was only one plastic rod to insert the orifice sheaths, so she took it first and slid the rubber sheaths in her pussy, then, with a groan, her anus. She offered it to Abby, who timidly followed suit and finally gave it to Lisa, who took it with an exasperated sigh. The three put on their sheer white dresses, and stood silently by as Nicole and the guard dressed and gagged Jessica the same way. When Jessica was finally sealed in her skinsuit and gagged with a stim-ball and white permaseal, the guard left, leaving Nicole to deal with the three. Lisa was staring daggers at the woman.

"Now, girls, today is a big day. It's the first day of your new job! Every day from here on out will begin with a group meeting run by Dominic, then you'll do eight hours of a job assigned to you by HaremCo. You've got to earn your keep here, and you'll learn a lot through working here. Jobs will be assigned based on your training needs, so some of you will be deliberately challenged by the job you're assigned. Once your shift is done, we'll have a special group training session in the afternoon and evening, which will be different every day. By the time you're done, you'll have done most jobs in the compound, and be qualified to become a full-time HaremCo slavegirl if you choose, or if your Master signs you up. Yay!"

Nicole clapped her hands and grinned sarcastically, waiting for a reaction.

"Right now we're headed to the auditorium for our meeting, and to receive your job assignments. Oh and just so you know, those stim-balls? They've got stimulants to wake your lazy asses up and keep you running, plus they have pharmaceuticals that block your bodily functions until you take a nite-ball later tonight. It'll keep you from becoming dehydrated, hungry, or needing the bathroom all day, so don't think you're going to be let out of that skinsuit or ungagged unless your master wants it. You should be grateful, HaremCo put a lot of work in developing these FDA approved, non-habit forming pharmaceuticals for your comfort. Your nose won't clog up while you're gagged, you won't get parched, and you won't be suffering with a full bladder all day. All that and the caffeine equivalent of an energy drink. Let me hear an mm-hmm if you're grateful for your stim-ball, slaves."

"Mm-hmm," the four chorused, nodding meekly as they chewed nervously on the balls.

"All right, heel-toe it, ladies. Single file, behind me," Nicole opened the door and let the girls walk out, but she snagged Jessica's leash before she could exit, "the rest of you, behave yourselves. I'm walking this bitch personally. Don't think for a second you're going to run off on me, hoe."

She yanked Jessica out the door by the leash, the poor girl nearly stumbling as the door slammed behind her.

Samantha was last to walk out, and she felt her heart race at the prospect of spending time with Master Dominic. She hoped she would be able to impress him today.

As the group made their way down the sterile concrete hall, their feet padded along in silence, until they reached the auditorium where they had first been handed over for training.

The kneeling pads were still in position on the floor before the stage, and Carol and Nicole stood at the front, directing the women in their groups to each sit on the side of the room where their captain stood. Before she walked to the right side of the stage, Nicole dragged Jessica's face inches from her own with her leash and said something that Samantha couldn't hear, but was sure was nasty. Jessica knelt down on a pad, shaking gently and looking at the floor. Samantha knelt next to her and waved gently, trying to be friendly to the poor woman.

Master Dominic took the stage, his voice echoing from the speakers mounted in the ceiling of the large room.

"Ladies," he began, "your training will now begin. As you are well aware, you are now property of the corporation and its clients until you have finished your orientation. This will be hard at first, and it's my job to ease you into it, but along the way, you'll learn to enjoy, even to crave, the sexual pleasure that comes when a woman submits to a worthy master. Yesterday I forbade the club members from explicit sexual actions, since you were new and they were strangers. Today, we're going to start acclimating you girls to sexual experiences in servitude, and I think you'll come to love it. Show of hands, how many of you have heard of or used a vibroshock egg?"

Samantha raised her hand, along with three other women including, to her surprise, Lisa. Were vibroshocks more mainstream as a sex toy than she thought?

"Then I'm sure you ladies know to be excited! For the rest of you, let me explain while my assistants hand out eggs and permaseals to each of you. I want you to insert the egg into your pussy's orifice sheath, then seal it in with the permaseal. Nicole, Carol, please distribute the vibroshocks."

Carol and Nicole each produced a small box, and began walking among the kneeling women, placing an egg and a plaster into their hands.

"Vibroshocks can be programmed to work in many ways. They have a GPS tracking function, so I'll know exactly where you girls are at any given time. But the fun part is the hot-cold function. You can program them to buzz and vibrate whenever you move closer to a specific spot. When you move away, they give a very mild but very shocking zap to the vaginal walls, so it's pretty clear when you're on or off track. I use the hot-cold setting to train new slavegirls, and it works quite well, I've found. And of course, the shocks are an excellent disciplinary tool, and the vibrator can be used to reward good behavior. Your job today will be to simply let your pussy lead you. This process will become quite second nature to you as the days go by, but I want to do a demonstration in here, as a group, to make sure you all know how it works. Everyone insert the egg and tape it in, then we'll continue."

Samantha shivered with excitement as Carol walked up to her and placed a vibroshock and a white permaseal in her hands. Maybe it was the tingling of the lube in her skinsuit, the stimulants, or just her genuine arousal, but she couldn't wait to get it inside.

"Remember when Barbie put you in that Marilyn Monroe suit in the dollhouse? You've played the hot and cold game already, and ended up having a lovely time in the kennel next to Mittens! That should make you an expert, Ms. Steele, you're way ahead of this group already!" she squealed excitedly and giggled as Samantha took the egg and gently inserted it, her memory flashing back to her time in the Norma Jean suit at the Dollhouse only days before. Barbie had shocked and vibed her into a kennel, made her cum, then made her do the happy birthday routine for Sean and Dominic. She'd been mad that Barbie tricked her at the time, and humiliated her, but Carol was right: the experience had prepared her for this. She felt a surge of confidence as she removed the backing from the permaseal and smoothed it over her latex orifice, sealing the egg deep inside her. It buzzed lightly, making her squirm on her pad.

Carol and Nicole passed the vibroshock eggs and plasters down the lines of kneeling slavegirls, then returned to Dominic's side once everyone's eggs were inside.

"All right, ladies," Dominic began, "today I'm assigning you each a job. As I said yesterday, the only way for a woman to truly appreciate the submissive role is to be put to work, so that's what you'll be doing for your eight hours a day, every day. Some of you are getting easy jobs, and some of you are being challenged, and I want you to understand: this is your chance to shine. Every time I challenge you, and you rise to the occasion, you're one step closer to being the perfect submissive. You'll never get there, and that's why this is a lifelong journey. But the more challenges you overcome, the more proud of yourself and your service you'll become. Now, we're going to show you girls the hot-cold mode on your vibroshocks. I've picked a spot in the room for each of you. Follow the buzzes, walk away from the shocks, and you'll know when you find your spot. Once you reach your spot, stand motionless at attention with your hands at your sides until I say otherwise. You may want to wiggle and dance around with that egg buzzing in you, but if you break posture or move at all, I'll shock you. Places, everyone!"

Dominic pushed a button on his cellphone, and a chorus of surprised squeals and grunts erupted from the women, as all the eggs delivered a mild buzz pulse as an alert that it had been activated. Samantha's first steps gave her a shock, so she backtracked, but got shocked again. She grunted exasperatedly as she wheeled around, trying to find the right direction. Suddenly the buzz began to build, and Samantha smiled as she realized it was working! The women were shuffling in a strange dance around the large auditorium, their hips bucking and knees buckling slightly as they walked while being shocked and pulsed with vibrations. Samantha saw Jessica's body seize as she took a shock, and giggled. Jessica was glaring at her, clearly pissed that Samantha had laughed, and the next shock brought her back to reality, and she started walking again, following the buzz until she was near the back wall, where she finally reached the sweet spot.

Samantha was already there, her eyes fixed straight ahead at attention, and she was pleased to see Abby approach the same spot. She didn't want to get separated from her friends. Lisa, on the other hand, ended up on the far side of the stage with a bunch of women who looked terrified, including Jessica, who glared back at Samantha.

Samantha groaned low in her throat and closed her eyes as the pulses in her vibe gave way to a continuous, building throb. She was being rewarded for finding her spot. Her hips bucked and she struggled to resist the urge to grind, or touch herself, or react at all to the vibrations that were beginning to drive her crazy.

She heard a soft moan from Abby and answered with a low, trailing-off "MMMMMMMmMmMmmmMmmmmm" of her own. The sounds coming from the women who had found their spot, along with the squeals and cries of those who were still struggling and getting shocked, filled the air and Samantha felt the heat build between her legs. She could hear some women being shocked, and could tell they were moving to avoid it and just running into more shocks. Her hips bucked against her will and her body shuddered, and she almost fell to her knees. She jolted up straight but then squealed as a shock went through her, causing her to jerk again, which caused another shock. The buzzer in her pussy started buzzing, and the vibrations got more and more intense, causing her knees to buckle and hips to shake. Abby and a few others, including the unfortunate Jessica, began squealing as the same treatment began to affect them all.

Suddenly the vibrator slowed, and the women breathed both sighs of relief and groans of frustration as their orgasms were cut off, but they were finally able to stand still. They remained motionless, facing the stage, panting hard through their noses.

"Good girls. Now that you're in place, the 'lock' function has engaged. Everyone please step toward the stage, now. Just one step."

The women obeyed and groaned and grunted when a constant but bearably low shock started inside of them upon leaving their spot. They quickly jumped back in place and exchanged commiserating looks, but they snapped to attention with their arms at their sides and turned back to Dominic on the stage.

"Now you see what will happen if you try to leave your spot once you find it. Whenever you're released from your spot, you'll get a quick three pulses. You'll be free to move after that, until hot-cold mode is used again."

Three quick buzzes sent a murmur through the crowd of gagged women. Then, they got another pulse, letting them know that the hot-cold game was on again. Muffled noises and the patter of rubbery feet filled the air until the women realized where they were being taken: the eggs were leading them back to their kneeling pads. Awkwardly they milled together, struggling and grunting as they tried to find the right seat.

Once they were all kneeling, the vibrations and the moaning began to build again. Samantha could barely take it, her whole body felt hot and tingly and her loins tensed with each pulse.

"Good girls. At ease. Feel free to shudder and buck your hips, just stay in place. You've all been good, and it's my duty as your master to reward you. Enjoy your first orgasm as my property at my command," Dominic said, then he walked off the stage and placed his hand on the cheek of the first slave he came to. He whispered something to her, patted her cheek, then moved on to the next girl, which was Lisa. Her face was flushed and her eyes wide with obvious adoration of her master as she bucked and groaned. He whispered in her ear and the blue-haired girl nodded fervently and excitedly, then she groaned as he ran his fingers through her hair.

Samantha didn't know if she could hold off her orgasm until Dominic reached her, but she was determined to try. She wanted to cum for him, in front of him, she wanted him to watch her. Her mind was empty but for the need for her master, and her overwhelming euphoric pleasure as the vibroshock buzzed in her orifice sheath and the tingling lube inside her burned intensely. Her head was buzzing and she felt light-headed and lost. Her world was the buzz in her pussy, the burning lube, and the aching need to have an orgasm. Even the rubber of the stim-ball was getting hot in her mouth and the smell and taste of latex and chemicals was overpowering her senses. She needed her Master and she needed her release.

Samantha felt a hand gently touch her cheek, and her eyes opened to the gaze of her Master. His eyes were locked on hers, his lips parted in a faint grin, and she felt herself lose all control and begin to moan and squeal, her body quivering as her orgasm neared. She was on the verge of cumming, her eyes rolling up and her body bucking.

"That's my girl," he said softly, then he kissed her cheek as she shuddered and came with a loud moan. He turned and left, but Samantha's orgasm kept hitting her with wave after wave, spasm after spasm, as her walls clenched and relaxed on the smooth silicone egg in her sheath. She didn't notice where the other women's eggs were taking them, she didn't notice anything at all but the throbbing, pounding euphoric buzz and the burning lube on her sensitive skin, until her eyes fluttered closed and her body relaxed and slumped down, exhausted. The buzz subsided, and a moment of silence followed, the buzzing and squealing in the room gone, leaving a faint hum from the speakers in the ceiling and an occasional satisfied "mmm…" from one of the spent women.

"Good girls. Now for the rest of the day, your vibroshocks will lead your way. I'll keep you in place for two minutes to let you recover. When the buzzes come again, you'll all know you have a new place to be. Follow the buzzes, avoid the shocks, and work hard at your new job when you get there. Remember, first impressions are important, and, as always, your performance will be rated. Score under 4 at any job and you'll have to perform shift after shift flawlessly to build your rating back up. With that, I leave you to it. Any disturbances, and the guards will handle you. Try to go where you're not supposed to, and your egg will shock you until you turn back. Thank you, ladies, and good luck. Make me proud."

Dominic left the stage and then the auditorium, flanked by Carol and Nicole. The women were all alone, but when Jessica stood up and took a step, immediately to be shocked, and return to her pad, they knew they were not free. They were still being dominated, controlled by the eggs inside them, unable to remove their gags or their suits with their collars locked. No rope, no shackles, no cage, and yet they were totally silenced and controlled by Dominic and HaremCo's authority. They waited for what seemed an eternity before a short, quick burst of three pulses in their pussies signaled the beginning of the workday. They rose and began following their pussies toward their new job assignments. Samantha's heart fluttered and she felt the tingles return as her egg led her away to who-knew-where. She saw Abby walk off in another direction once they reached the hallway, and she waved a sad goodbye to her friend.

"MMMmmMmMMmmmMmmm!" Samantha grunted as the buzz increased, then faded when she turned a corner. She tried another hallway and squealed as she got a small shock, jumping back quickly and receiving a buzz once more. That only left one direction, and she padded down the long hallway as the pulses got stronger and closer together.

She saw a group of slavegirls in front of her, one of them with blue hair that identified her quickly as being Lisa. She trotted up to them to walk alongside them, waving and chirping a bubbly "mmph-mm!" in greeting. Lisa shot her dagger eyes, and the other women staggered clumsily with their pussies buzzing down the hallway, moaning and too distracted to acknowledge Samantha. They came to a junction in the hallway system, and when Lisa and Samantha tried to follow the women straight through, they both grunted as they were shocked, stopping in place and separating from the other slavegirls.

Lisa went right, and Samantha went left, but was shocked again. She turned and hustled after Lisa, wondering if they were being assigned the same job. The two followed the hallway to a large pair of swinging double doors, with an ornate brass placard reading "Club." They were going back to the place they'd been auctioned off the day before. Samantha remembered the gagged bartenders and the waitresses with trays dangling from their collars, and the one ungagged woman who had been bossing them around as they served the men.

They opened the doors to find a well-lit bar and dining area, with plush carpet, hardwood furniture and a fully-stocked bar. On one end was a small stage with a catwalk and pole for dancing. Samantha remembered standing on that catwalk with Abby as the two were auctioned off. Men sat at the bar or at booths like the one she'd shared with Clay and Abby, and everywhere slavegirls in their skinsuits and white dresses brought drinks and bondage gear to the men. Some men sat with women who were obviously their subs, while some were playing with the waitresses or bartenders, or watching the show playing out on stage.

On the stage, a slavegirl in a head-to-toe black latex dollsuit was dancing on the pole. Her black hair extended in a glistening ponytail from the black rubber of her hood, and her striking blue eyes were visible through the sculpted, almond-shaped eyeholes of her mask. She spread her legs wide and showed off a pink rubber molded pussy and a puckered pink sheathed asshole, then she raised a finger to her red rubber lips and opened them. Samantha saw her hood was equipped with a newmouth, her red lips parting to reveal two white mouthguards and a pink latex-coated tongue that she poked out from between her lips, gently licking her finger as men showered the stage with single dollar bills.

Samantha jolted as her vibroshock shocked her, reminding her to keep moving. She followed the buzzes to a swinging service door behind the bar, which opened up to reveal a small room with three pneumatic tubes, each with a piece of bondage gear inside that was destined for one of the men in the club. On a shelf lay several serving trays, curved to rest on the abdomen of the servers and secured to their bodies with a belt and a chain running from the outside corners of the tray that would be hooked onto a woman's collar to hold the tray up. Lisa was already waiting when she arrived, and the poor girl was panting and her face was flushed from the vibroshock's reward for finding her place.

Samantha's place was a few feet from Lisa's, and she halted in place when she felt the vibrations intensify and build to a constant throb. She was grateful to find her spot quickly and receive a reward, and her mind began to blank out from the stimulation in her sheath, her head getting lighter and lighter. She swayed and moaned gently, her eyes fixed on Lisa who was doing the same.

The vibration suddenly subsided, leaving the women hot and bothered, sweating and shuddering in their skinsuits. Samantha grunted in frustration, the need to cum building in her. Neither woman took another step, knowing that they were being held in place by the vibroshock's lock function.

After a few silent moments, the door to the supply room swung open and a woman stepped in. She looked to be in her early thirties, with beautiful auburn hair tied in a wavy ponytail, a full figure, and only enough age betrayed under her tasteful makeup and burgundy lipstick to make her look elegantly mature. Samantha actually thought the woman looked a bit like herself, when she'd been half a decade or so younger. She wore a skinsuit but instead of a white dress she wore leather high heel boots and black wetlook leggings, with a red satin blouse undone to reveal her glossy, rubbery cleavage. She carried a sturdy-looking tablet in a protective case, and briefly studied it before looking up at the slavegirls.

She wore a brass, embossed name tag on her breast that read: "CINDY - floor manager, not for rent. Guardian: Master Vincent."

Samantha waved meekly to the woman she assumed must be her new boss. The woman half-smiled, and Samantha wondered if her glossy, dark lipstick was lipstuck. That would make explaining her duties difficult.

The woman's lips parted, and she rattled off her curt instructions in a stern but matter-of-fact tone, "All right girls, I'm the only woman in here who's always available to communicate with club members, so I hope those stim-balls woke you up, because you'll need to be quick on the uptake. I can't answer many questions or explain everything, so think on your feet and follow your vibroshocks."

"You'll be working as servers in the Harem Club today, as you've probably guessed. My Master, Vincent, is the Club Master today, so he's the ultimate authority in the whole place. Piss him off, I can't help you, and the guards can't help you. The guests are a different story. No explicit sex acts, no male genital contact, except through clothing, no extreme physical punishments. The guards stay on top of that, so be obedient no matter what and they'll stop any abuse before it happens to you. Other than that, you're fair game. Guests can change out your gag or have your butt plugged, but only with small, conventional plugs. A lot of them seem to like tail plugs for whatever reason."

Samantha and Lisa exchanged a look, but neither was about to object to the instructions. Samantha was relieved, she'd been worried about being hurt or forced into sex with strangers all day.

"Mostly, you'll be running dishes and drinks from the bar or kitchen service window out to the tables. Place them on your trays and don't you dare spill them. Speaking of which," Cindy pressed a button on her tablet and the girls' vibes buzzed a quick pulse, alerting them that they were out of lock and back in hot-cold mode, "get those trays on. The clip on the chain attaches to your collar, then you'll have to buckle the strap behind each other's backs. Go."

Their vibes went off softly twice as they took two steps toward the shelf full of trays and began attaching them. Samantha motioned for Lisa to turn around, then she cinched the strap tightly behind her back, holding the tray firmly in place and suspended by the chain from her collar.

As Samantha clipped the chain to her collar and turned to let Lisa buckle her up, Cindy resumed speaking.

"Your vibroshocks will guide you to the bar, the service window, or back here to pick up any gear members have requested. Sometimes it's to be used on you, sometimes it's their wives or other slavegirls they've rented. You won't know until you get to the table, but be aware that if you're brought back to the shelf of trays, that means you've been rented. Take off your tray and report to your temporary master, wherever the eggs take you. Your duties cease and you will serve your renter obediently, and your master or the guards will restrain you however your master specifies until your time is up. Once the rental period is up, you'll be led back to this shelf to put on a new tray and resume your duties."

She was talking so fast, and Samantha wasn't sure she'd completely followed along, but it sounded like if she did what she was told and followed her vibroshock where it led her, she'd figure out what to do. She'd waited tables in college, so she figured she could keep up with that part, at least.

"Last piece of advice: as someone who's graduated orientation training, let me urge you to fall in line as quickly as possible. You'll be here a long, long time paying for mistakes you make early on in your training. There's probably someone in your class that you already know this will happen to, and I bet you don't want to end up like them."

Samantha thought of Jessica sleeping in her vacuum-sealed sleepsack and gagged all night for her failure at the club, and the number of perfect scores she'd need to make up for her 1 star rating.

"So this might sound corny, but commit yourself to service. Make these men happy. Every table you visit gets a notification on their Club app that lets them pay a small amount to reward you with vibrations, a larger amount to give you an orgasm, or, at no charge, to shock you as punishment for poor service. They can only shock you up to a moderate level, and only three bursts, but it's quite uncomfortable and you'll want to avoid that. Your tips are tallied at the end of your shift, and the ratio of shocks to buzzes will be your final score. The record ratio is 20 to 1, which is impressive given that shocks are free and cheapskates love to stiff waitresses, and the record number of orgasms is eleven in one shift."

Samantha's eyes widened and she looked at Lisa, who was sighing and gently shaking her head in resignation. This had sounded like an easy job, but things were obviously about to get intense. How was she supposed to function while constantly orgasming over such a long time?

"Both of those records were set by me, incidentally," Cindy said with a cocky smirk, the most emotional effect she'd displayed this entire time, "so don't expect me to sympathize with your failures, or complaints. Now good luck, girls, I've got a harem of waitresses to wrangle."

Cindy walked out through the swinging doors, muttering to herself and poking away at her tablet's touchscreen, obviously furiously multi-tasking.

Without warning, the girl's vibroshocks issued a mild shock to get them moving. They were in hot-cold mode, and had somewhere to be. The pneumatic tubes hissed and whirred, and Samantha followed the buzzes inside her to a tube on the far side of the room. Lisa whimpered softly as her vibroshock buzzed her out of the supply room, presumably to the bar or the kitchen service window.

Samantha opened the door of the tube's compartment and pulled out a pair of metal cuffs and a steel collar, all linked together on a length of steel chain. There was also a complex, brushed-steel cage-like piece of headgear and a metal padlock with a small key inserted. Samantha thought the device looked familiar, then gasped when she realized it was a scold's bridle. She'd read about women being publicly humiliated in the middle ages for "scolding" others by being forced to wear locked metal head cages with metal plates that protruded into the mouth, depressing the tongue and completely blocking speech. She never thought she'd see one in person.

The egg in her pussy gave her a small shock and she winced, hurriedly placing the items on her tray so she could get going, then wheeled around and headed for the swinging door, relieved to feel a soft buzz in reward for going the correct direction. She wondered where she was taking these medieval-era metal restraints, and knew she'd find out soon enough. That was how HaremCo controlled so many women without almost any of them needing to speak, she realized: these eggs could be programmed to automate a slavegirl's entire labor routine, or to summon her anywhere on the fly. And with the stim-balls removing the need to remove their suits, or the inserted vibroshocks, until they received their nightly nite-balls, they could be controlled remotely from the moment they left their quarters with the eggs already inserted until the moment they were locked back in their rooms and sent a tube of solvent to remove their crotch plasters, and the keys to remove the collars that trapped them in their suits.

Samantha had to admit it was elegant. Devious, diabolical, but ingenious. She'd thought for sure that HaremCo had been exaggerating when it talked about long-term, lifestyle restraint, but they'd really done it, and she was living it. Her head spun as the reality of her predicament settled in, when she was interrupted by a shock in her nethers.

She grunted and snapped back to reality, realizing she'd been standing spaced-out just outside the supply room door, the entire club bustling before her, and Cindy was raising one eyebrow at her from behind the bar. She whimpered a wordless complaint to no one, frustrated that she wasn't being given any time to process and adjust to her environment, but obediently stepped forward, was shocked, then stepped to the right and received a buzz. No time for contemplation, thought Samantha as she walked tentatively around the club, every step a chance to be shocked and her pussy buzzing distractingly even with the right steps. There was only time to figure out what was expected of her, and obey as quickly as she could.

The buzzes led her to a table close to the stage, where three men in business suits sat with three women dressed in elegant cocktail dresses. Their skin texture looked jarringly odd to Samantha for a moment, and she realized she'd grown accustomed to women's bodies being covered in the fleshtone rubber of a skinsuit. These women looked somewhat alien to Samantha, and it was clear that in their proper, normal clothes, they were of a different class than herself, with her tray, her plain white dress, and the serving tray secured to her waist and collar. They were women from the outside, she thought, while she belonged in these compound walls, as the property of HaremCo and a prisoner of their devices.

The men smiled at her as she stepped up to the table, and one of them smacked her ass playfully while a long throbbing buzz rewarded her for finding her spot. She squealed at the slap, groaned and shook slightly at the buzz, and closed her eyes involuntarily until the sensation subsided.

She opened them and saw that two of the women from outside were wearing elegant leather muzzles in beige and white that looked like they were made by luxury designer handbag brands. The muzzles had little holes in the center of the panels, through which the women sipped cocktails through straws, politely dabbing the dribbling saliva and alcohol that dripped from the holes with their napkins. They looked surprisingly refined and upper-class for women in bondage, Samantha thought. She supposed that was part of HaremCo's brand approach: submission as a status symbol.

The man nearest her, who was still squeezing her ass cheek after slapping it, smiled up at her, and she noticed the woman seated beside him was staring downward and looking sullen. She wore an intricate and elegant rose gold collar with a chain that glittered with what might have been real diamonds, but she did not appear to be gagged, unless her pouting lips were sealed with lipstuck. She bit her lip nervously, and Samantha knew she was the only ungagged woman at the table. She began to piece together what was happening at this table.

"Hey there, beautiful," the man with his hand on her ass leered at her, "those are for this one here," he gestured towards the pouting woman, "I wanted to show off how well-trained she was by leaving her ungagged for our dinner, but Monica has a bad habit of talking out of turn, and habits die hard. Better finish that margarita quick before the bridle goes on, hon."

Samantha nodded and grunted an "mm-hmm" to the man as the woman quickly knocked back the last of her drink, placing the glass back on the table with shaking hands. The other women watched the scene unfold and continued sipping their drinks through their muzzles. It reminded Samantha of the way she and the other slaves sucked their sustenance from their dispensers, and she wondered what was inside their mouths behind those hand-stitched, napa leather panels. Were they sucking on smooth plastic like the dispensers, or maybe mouthplugs? Or were they silently sucking sweet alcoholic drinks through molded rubber cocks in a state of constant simulated fellatio?

The man took the shackles and chains and set them on the table with a jingle and a clatter of metal, then he picked up the scold's bridle and the padlock, emptying Samantha's tray. She watched as he opened the metal headgear, a hinge in its middle allowing its front and back halves to swing open, then brought the tongue-depressing metal plate up to his slave's lips.

She briefly pursed her quivering lips, blocking the plate from entering her mouth, but her man said, "say 'ahh', darling, and we'll keep you from embarrassing us for the rest of the evening," and she dutifully opened up and allowed the plate to slide between her teeth and lips and over her tongue, a soft "uhmmm" issuing from her lips as they pressed softly against the metal of the plate, then were pressed and smushed against the metal mouth covering panel on the front of the bridle as the back of the device swung closed, snugly encasing her head and locking the plate and panel in place both inside and over her mouth.

With what Samantha thought was a deliberate flourish, the man ceremoniously and deliberately padlocked the bridle, removing the key and stashing it in his jacket pocket. The woman looked up helplessly at Samantha, with humiliation in her eyes. Samantha felt glad to be gagged: she didn't know what she would say to the woman.

"All right, sweet cheeks," the man turned back to Samantha, his phone in his hand, "the timer on the app says you've got 90 seconds left at this table, and I've got to decide whether I tip to vibe ya, or shock your pussy and lower your rating, before then. You got here quick and you brought the right items, so I don't want to shock you, but I don't know if you've given what I'd call 'exemplary service.' Care to try to change my mind before the time's up?"

Samantha's mind reeled. What did he want her to do? Tentatively, she put her hands to her breasts and pushed them together, leaning down to reveal her cleavage beneath her low-cut white dress.

"Haha! Very cute, slave, but I'm more of an ass guy. Or didn't you notice? Slavegirls need to pay attention to things like that, you know."

Samantha nodded and grunted, cheeks flushing warmly under the latex of the permaseal plaster, and she turned around, bending over and lifting her dress to display her rubber-coated ass cheeks and, she realized with a stab of embarrassment, her puckered rubber anal orifice along with her permaseal plastered-up crotch. She wiggled her ass side to side, and received a series of smacks that hurt and made her squeal, but also made her pussy clench on the egg it held and left a burning sensation of intense pleasure where she'd been struck, a gift, no doubt, from the sensitizing lube in her skinsuit.

"That's right. Nice ass, girl! Look at that little puckered hole! We'll have to get you some panties with sheaths like that, too, Monica. Maybe a whole suit. What do you say?"

Monica glowered and grunted a begrudging, "mm-hmm."

"That's what I thought you'd say."

"Too bad her pussy's taped over, those second skin suits have such cute little pussies built in. They're perfect for older women, you know how floppy they get with age, but those rubber cunts are tiny and pretty like a schoolgirl's. Still, look at that cameltoe under the tape! Y'all can see what I'm talking about, that's not her, it's molded rubber," chimed in another man at the table. Samantha's cheeks burned hotter as she wondered whether she naturally looked as good down there as her suit's molded pussy.

Samantha fixed her face into her best obedient, perky expression, then turned around and gave a small bow to the table.

"All right, I don't think that was really orgasm-worthy," Monica's boyfriend grinned smugly toward Samantha, "but I'll give you a good tip. Come here," he extended a hand toward her at waist level, "and let me feel you clench up when I buzz you."

Samantha stepped forward and spread her legs slightly, and the man cupped and squeezed her mound lightly.

"All right, here's one," Samantha's pussy buzzed hard for a full second, making her tense and squeal, but stopped abruptly, "damn, you're right, Harry, those molded pussies are really something, I can feel her clenching up under that plaster! Hot damn! Here's two," Samantha was vibed again in an intense burst that left her shuddering, "aaaaand three," Samantha's hips bucked, pressing her pussy hard into the man's hand, and he laughed and rubbed her gently before withdrawing his hand.

"Well?" he looked up expectantly at Samantha.

She clasped her hands together in thanks and gave a little bow, saying "thank you" as best she could but only managing a "mmph mmm" that sounded vaguely grateful. Samantha had given a lot of fake smiles and obsequious thank-you's at her college waitress job, but this was really something else. She didn't know how she would make it through eight hours of this, but she was also becoming so sexually frustrated that she was anxious to get someone to make her cum.

"All right, you're dismissed," the man pressed a button on his phone and Samantha's vibe pulsed softly three times, letting her know the hot-cold mode was on again and it was time to proceed to her next task.

Constantly stimulated and occasionally shocked, Samantha followed her egg around the Club floor. She was brought to the bar, where she saw Lisa standing by a man holding his phone in his hand. He was manipulating a slider on the touch screen, and when he slid it to the top, Lisa began bucking her hips and shrieking in humiliated ecstasy. Samantha fumed silently in quiet jealousy, unbearably frustrated and envious that someone had made Lisa cum already. Was this going to be her life? Constantly frustrated on the edge of orgasm, unable to think straight or focus on anything but pleasing her masters and earning sexual release?

The thought vanished quickly as Samantha stepped up to the side of the bar, her vibroshock building to a steady pulse, bringing her just to the edge of orgasm with her reward for finding her place.

Without a word, a ballgagged bartender in typical HaremCo garb placed six drinks in long-stemmed cocktail glasses on Samantha's tray, and her vibe pulsed three quick times again. She didn't need to be told a table number, she knew the egg inside her would take her to her destination. She turned around and walked quickly around the club, feeling the buzzes building and receding with each step, leading her closer to her destination. The drinks swished and splashed on her tray, threatening to spill over and make her a failure on her first delivery of the night, but she made it to the table just in time to place her tray down and set the drinks out for the table's guests.

The group at this table consisted of four men in business attire, all wearing wedding rings. They were drinking beer and watching a football game on a television in the corner of the bar. Two of the men had slavegirls with them, seated on their laps and wearing ring-gags and armbinders. The girls were licking the men's faces, and one was grunting loudly, probably being vibed via the Club app. The men watched Samantha set the drinks out on the table, then one of the men tapped a button on his phone, and her vibe buzzed a soft reward inside of her.

She hesitated a moment, then turned around and lifted her dress, wiggling for the men. They said nothing, and she turned around, pressing her breasts together, offering herself up and silently begging the men to increase her tip, maybe make her cum.

The men were distracted by their girls and the game, but one turned back to her, surprised she was still there.

"What is it? You want more? It's not polite to ask for tips, woman."

"Mmm? MMMMMmmmmm?" she tried to plead, pointing to her crotch, then clasping her hands together and begging with puppy-dog eyes.

"What? You want to cum?"

"Mm-hmm…" Samantha flushed with embarrassment at how she was begging the man.

"Every woman in here wants to cum, sweetheart. They're all just as desperate as you, and that's why the service stays good. It's by design, so learn to live with it. I'm not dropping that kind of money on you tonight, so try with someone else. I'm sure some guy will like you enough he'll give you an orgasm, even if you're getting on in years compared to these girls," he gestured at the two girls seated on his friends' laps, who couldn't have been more than 21, and Samantha died inside. She was competing with much younger women for the attention that would bring her release? What if no one wanted to make her cum? Besides, she wasn't that old, and she was still gorgeous, right?

"Oh, sorry, I didn't dismiss you. Maybe that's why you're waiting. Move along now, Samantha," the man said as he tapped a button on his phone, sending three quick pulses into Samantha to let her know to move on.

With a groan, she made her way once more across the floor, shocked and buzzed along to her next task.

She'd never felt so frustrated and sex-addled in her life. The men in the club groped and pinched her, leering and making lewd comments, but none of them were willing to pay to make her cum. She wondered how much that cost, then banished the thought: she didn't want to know what amount of money watching her cum, in bondage, at a man's command was somehow NOT worth.

She quickly fell into a routine as she bustled back and forth running items and orders to the guests, following her vibroshock around the club feeling more and more second nature to her as the first few hours wore on. She found herself making little displays of herself for the male club members without really thinking about it, just as she'd casually flirted with the men at her waitress job in college.

A few men didn't seem at all disappointed in her, but they stiffed her anyway, sending only one mild shock into her pussy to avoid tipping to vibe her. Samantha seethed at the men, but getting stiffed was part of any waitress job. As long as she got three pulses of vibrations from enough happy customers, she could easily keep her buzz/shock ratio high.

She made her first real mistake around noon, when the lunch rush started rolling in. She was carrying a tray with drinks from the bar when she took a wrong step and was surprised by a shock inside her that made her jolt in surprise. One of the drinks spilled, despite her best efforts, and she walked back to the bar in shame, her vibroshock continuing to shock her as punishment for deviating from her path.

Cindy shot her dagger eyes as she had a bartender slavegirl re-make the drink, and Samantha's table decided to shock her three times at the highest level they were allowed for the delay in service. It wasn't torturous, but it was intense enough to make Samantha cry out, shrieking pitifully at the third shock, and she heard a chorus of chuckles and a few condescending tut-tut's from the men around her. It was humiliating and painful, but she didn't have time to process before the hot-cold mode started again.

She was led back to the supply room, where she saw one of the other waitresses, a Mediterranean-looking woman with a long black ponytail, take off her tray before walking past Samantha and out of the room with barely a glance shared between them. It wasn't like they could have chatted or introduced themselves anyway. The woman had a fuzzy white tail sticking out from under her dress, which meant someone had paid to plug her ass with a tail buttplug, and she drooled constantly from a ring gag that was locked on with a small padlock. The woman miserably wiped the drool from her lips and from her serving tray with a white dishcloth that she kept folded on a corner of the tray when she wasn't using it.

Samantha found her place in front of a whirring pneumatic tube, and she groaned deeply as the vibroshock rewarded her, bringing her close to orgasm then shutting off. Samantha figured it must be programmed to sense when she was about to cum somehow, maybe by sensing contractions in her muscles, and she cursed the infernal device for teasing her so intensely.

She gulped when she saw what lay in the container of the tube, tasting latex and the last bit of medicine from the stim-ball in her mouth. It was a clear pvc muzzle with a fleshtone, realistic dildo of around three inches in length in the center of its mouth panel. There was a hole in the center that ran the length of the dildo from the tip to the panel of the gag, allowing the wearer to breathe, drool, and drink from straws through the tube, just as the designer leather muzzles Samantha had seen the women at her first table wearing. She figured she knew what was behind those hand-stitched full-grain leather panels now. There was a small padlock with a key, which would presumably lock the gag on the wearer, and worst of all, there was a folded white dishcloth to wipe the drool that would flow from the gag.

That towel meant that the gag was meant for her.

Samantha groaned and picked up the items, placing them on her tray then treading softly out of the supply room, gently buzzed along the way.

Samantha got shocked a few times for going the wrong direction, and she began to wonder who had paid on the club app to change her gag. At least someone was interested in her, she thought. Maybe if she got them to like her, if she turned them on, they would finally make her cum. Or maybe someone else would, if the new gag turned them on. Her lips would be visible, wrapped around a realistic phallus, whereas now her mouth and lower face were obscured by the white latex of the permaseal.

She passed Lisa, who had a fuzzy blue tail sticking out from under her dress, wore a white pair of kitty ears on a headband, and was drooling from a large, squishy, light blue ballgag that was locked in her mouth. The guests had obviously chosen gear that would match the girl's hair, and she looked like a gen-z e-girl with her kitty ears and dyed hair. A table of young men were stroking themselves under the table as they watched her cum, shaking and squealing into the dribbling ball that filled her mouth. Samantha was sick with jealousy that the young woman was being allowed to cum again, but she wasn't sure if Lisa was enjoying it. She figured she must be, there was no way her vibroshock wasn't teasing her the same way Samantha's was, so she must be desperate to cum even in spite of herself.

Finally Samantha found her spot: a table right by the stage, on which a couple of slavegirls in FreakPet suits, one a black rubber doggie and the other a coppery latex fox, were being led on all fours and commanded to perform tricks by a man dressed in all black who must have been Master Vincent: Cindy's owner and the boss of the club for the day.

Her egg rewarded her with a torturous near-orgasm yet again, and the men at the table chuckled as they watched her moan and huff in frustration.

"Well hello, Samantha," one of them, a middle-aged balding man in an unbuttoned dress shirt, said as he leered at her, "we saw you from across the club and thought we'd like to see the rest of your face. Your lips look so supple under that layer of latex glued on your mouth. Let me see up close while we wait for the guard to come over and change your gag, darling."

Chagrined, she tried to appear cheery and amenable, leaning over and letting the man run his fingers gently over her sealed lips. He traced a heart on them and she giggled in embarrassment, her pussy clenching and throbbing with need. The man was turning her on, and she couldn't help it. His touch made her body sing in spite of her hatred for her situation and her gag, but she could feel the orgasm slipping further and further away the longer her vibroshock stayed dormant.

Suddenly a guard's gloved hands were pulling Samantha's shoulders back, standing her upright, and she yelped as the man grabbed her face in his hand, holding her still while he rubbed a stick of solvent over her gag. She felt the adhesive loosen, and the guard grunted curtly, "No speaking between gags. Disobedience will be punished.

She nodded quickly as the permaseal's adhesive weakened, allowing the guard to remove the plaster and the stim-ball from where they'd been for the last four hours or so. Samantha gasped and briefly worked her lips and jaw, which has grown stiff, before the guard demanded, "open your mouth, slave."

She did, reluctantly, but quickly enough to satisfy the guard, and he shoved the fleshy silicone phallus between her teeth. It had a highly realistic feel, like an extremely high-end sex toy, or even a prosthetic, and aside from the lack of warmth, Samantha genuinely felt as though a half-stiff penis was sliding its head to the back of her mouth, its veiny shaft resting on her tongue. As the soft clear plastic of the mouth panel pressed tightly down on her mouth, squishing her lips and pinning them in a comically round O around the dildo, she felt the tip of the synthetic member hit the back of her throat and winced, expecting to retch and gag, but to her surprise, she felt only a persistent tickle, and her throat remained relaxed. That was weird, she thought, but maybe it had to do with the medicines in her morning stim-ball, or even the lube that still tingled with warmth all over her body beneath the rubber of her skinsuit.

The guard pulled the belt of the gag tight behind her head, the plastic panel tightening and compressing her lips and mouth, the rectangular shape indented slightly into her cheeks, then he buckled it and Samantha heard a soft click behind her head as he locked the padlock and withdrew the key. The men at the table began to chuckle, and one of them wolf-whistled.

"Hot damn, but I was right: you've got a plump little pair of dick-sucking lips on you, Samantha!" cackled the balding one. He must have been the one who ordered this gag for her: he was obviously the most excited. Samantha was disgusted by him, and she blushed deep red as he leered unblinkingly at her cock-stuffed mouth, but she tried to manage a smile, and she pressed her hands together and bowed her head slightly in a universal 'thank you' gesture. He was gross, but he liked her, and he had spent money on her. She was still desperate to cum, and there wasn't much room for pride in her current predicament.

She smiled her best fake customer service smile with her eyes, then squealed in surprise when the guard clamped a hand over her mouth, his fingers gripping her cheeks as he turned her face towards him.

"I'll warn you only once, since you're new," he sternly admonished her, "you're responsible for your drool. No getting it in drinks, or food, or on other people's toys. This goes for any gag that makes you drool. With this one, you'll start to leak saliva pretty soon from the hole in the front of your gag, so hold on to that towel and wipe it off when it comes. Of course, since you can breathe through that tube, your other option is to try to suck the spit back through the tube before it dribbles out," he smirked and the men erupted in a chorus of sniggers, "I'm sure you have some practice with that, so consider this an endurance-building exercise."

Samantha didn't think her face could get any redder or any hotter. She looked down and at the edges of her vision noticed a thin stream of drool dangling from the center of her gag, stretching slowly below her chin and towards her tray. She could reach for her hand towel and wipe her gag, but she knew that wasn't what the men wanted. And as much as she loathed them for doing this to her, she knew they truly were her masters, and she wouldn't get her sexual release until she managed to make a man want her bad enough to pay for her orgasm.

She breathed in slowly with a whistling hiss of air through the tube that she knew the men could hear, then she sucked down hard, and with a slurping sound, the drool retreated back up into her gag, squirting through the tip of the silicone cock in the back of her throat. She swallowed with an exaggerated gulp as the saliva trickled down her throat, and the men began to clap and mockingly cheer her accomplishment.

As the guard walked away, the balding man put his hand on Samantha's hip, his fingers digging into her rubber-coated flesh.

"You sure do look like a natural cocksucker, the way that dick sits in your mouth. But there's nothing wrong with a little practice now and then so you don't go rusty! I paid for that gag to be locked on until I leave in an hour or two, by the way, so don't worry about some tame-ass guy replacing it with a little ballgag or a permaseal and interrupting your little practice session."

Samantha moaned wordlessly, then sucked some spit back through the gag. It was quickly becoming a reflex, which meant she'd be casually sucking and swallowing what leaked from the tip of a hyperrealistic synthetic penis for the next hour or so while she bustled around and tried to do her job. She had a deep instinctual urge to claw and pull at her gag, to try to dislodge the invading, humiliating dildo, but she knew it was hopeless.

Instead, she gave a cheerful "mmm-hmm!" that she hoped sounded grateful, then put her hands to her lips and blew a kiss to the men at the table, making sure to wink at the man who'd paid for this atrocious gag.

"That's the spirit! If only my wife were half as excited to use her mouth as God intended," the man chuckled, "I'll have to get her down to the compound for some training one of these days. If the Male Guardianship act passes, it's a done deal."

"Hear hear! Vote Blume!" one of the men said, and the men clinked glasses and downed their drinks.

"All right, time's just about up. How'd you like to orgasm, Samantha?"

Samantha's heart skipped a beat and she trembled in anticipation of her self-debasing behavior paying off. She nodded emphatically, groaning out "mm-hmm! Mm-hmm!" until she heard spittle being pushed out of the tube. She sucked it back in and looked expectantly at the man, who was holding his cell phone in his hand.

"Then you'd better keep up the good service. I'll be requesting you for all my table's orders, so be snappy and sweet with the service and we'll see about giving you an orgasm when we get the check."

"Dammit, Lester, you're a sick bastard, you know that? Messing with the poor girl like that," one of the man's friends shook his head, but smiled at the balding man's impishness. So that was his name: Lester. An appropriately douchey-sounding name, Samantha thought .

A wicked grin spread across Lester's face and Samantha groaned miserably as he buzzed her once, twice, then the third and final time. Her vibroshock egg then pulsed three times in quick succession. Without having to think she reflexively took a step, got shocked and whined, another step and another shock, which made the table chuckle at her expense, then finally set off in the right direction, unbelievably frustrated and still being teased, only now with the constant sensation of a dribbling, fleshy cock in her mouth.

The man had said "we'll see about" giving her an orgasm. That meant he was willing, but it also meant she would have to do something else humiliating to make him give in. What would he want? What could she possibly do for him in front of everyone to convince him that she deserved to cum? What would be degrading enough to make it worth his money?

She walked back to the bar, wiping drool from her gag with her towel while her hands were free. She stood by the side of the bar and her vibroshock gently pulsed to let her know this was her place. A woman in a skinsuit, who looked to Samantha like a girl in her late teens with plump, glossy pink lips that Samantha could tell were glued shut with lipstuck, was working the bar. She busily made drinks for Samantha and Lisa, who was wiping her ballgagged lips with her hand towel.

Lisa looked up at Samantha and her eyes went wide when she noticed her gag. She cocked her head, then her shoulders shook and Samantha realized Lisa was laughing at her. Samantha grumbled, a muffled, "MMMmmm!" issuing from the front of her gag, and Lisa stifled her giggles, then gave a small, sympathetic shrug and turned her attention back to the tray of drinks in front of her. Samantha groaned again, then sucked her spit back in through the gag and rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the whole situation. She wished her pussy would stop throbbing, and that her whole body wouldn't feel so sensitive.

Suddenly Lisa reached out and squeezed Samantha's arm, and Samantha looked into the girl's eyes, shocked at the kind gesture from a feminist that must have hated her guts. Her arm tingled where Lisa touched it and kept tingling after the girl removed her hand, a phantom reminder of the comforting touch that stayed with her even after her tray was loaded and she was on her way to her next table.

Over the next hour, business was bustling and Samantha had her hands, as well as her mouth and pussy, quite full. Her gag attracted a lot of attention, and the constant compliments on her lips and questions about what was inside her mouth (mm-hmm, it was a dildo, mm-hmm, she did like having a cock in her mouth, mm-hmm, she'd rather it was a real one, mm-hmm, she was a very good girl) never let her forget that she was publicly sucking a dildo in front of all these people.

Still, in spite of herself, as she hustled back and forth across the floor, she found herself absent-mindedly sucking on her gag even when she wasn't drooling. It was like chewing gum, or grinding her teeth, and it somehow calmed her nerves.

She could hardly think straight as she went back and forth, delivering food and drinks to the tables and performing for the men and their slaves as they commanded her to bend over, turn around, suck her gag and drool, lift her skirt, and more. Three times in the last hour she'd revisited Lester's table with drinks, and the men were slowly getting truly drunk. She hoped they wouldn't end up being too out of it to finally give her that orgasm she was so desperate to earn.

She was constantly being shocked, either for taking a wrong step, for poor service, or just because the men she served didn't want to tip. Even though it wasn't truly torturous, it was certainly painful and jarring, and it kept her on her toes and constantly trying to behave in the best, sexiest way she could to please her customers and avoid being punished. The shocks built, the teasing got worse and worse as the men groped and ogled her and her body grew more and more sensitive. By the end of the hour, her body was on a hair trigger and her mind was reeling, her thoughts fogging up with the need to please and to finally get the release she needed.

When she returned to Lester's table for the fourth time and placed their final round of drinks on the table in front of them, the man had his phone in his hand and he smiled wickedly up at Samantha.

"All right, little cocksucker," Samantha cringed internally at the humiliating moniker, but didn't dare show the slightest displeasure at it, "it's check time, and I'm ready to leave, but first, you've earned your orgasm, and you're going to cum right in front of this whole club, just like a good slavegirl should. You like to cum, right?"

"Mm-hmm!" Samantha's eyes were wide and she nodded emphatically. Her pussy throbbed with excitement at the thought of cumming, even if she was in public and in such a humiliating position. She was desperate and would do anything to finally be allowed the pleasure that she needed and that her body craved. It was almost a primal urge at this point, and her mind was completely focused on getting her orgasm.

"I thought you might, little cocksucker," Samantha wanted to sulk and grumble about the degrading way Lester was speaking to her, but she knew he had all the power in this situation. Instead she kept nodding, eyebrows raised and eyes desperate, her hands pressed together as if in prayer, begging him wordlessly to give her the release she needed. Spit dribbled slowly out of her gag, and Samantha sucked it back up, then let out a high, pitiful whining groan. She could hear other tables watching her now, the men chuckling at her humiliation, the women's eyes judging her.

The sound of Lester's fingers swiping and tapping his screen was deafening in her ears. The whole club felt like it was spinning and watching her and she felt dizzy from the pressure and the constant teasing. Lester held the phone in his hand, and the screen was blank for an agonizing moment, then he swiped up, and the egg in Samantha's pussy began to vibrate. She whimpered and groaned and it built quickly, her pussy pulsing with blood, the egg inside her thrumming harder and faster by the second, until it was buzzing at an almost constant pitch, her hips rocking back and forth as her orgasm built, higher, higher, her whole body tinging with sensitivity, then, finally, her pussy clenched on the vibrating egg, and Samantha came hard.

She shrieked, her legs trembling, and her whole body tensed and spasmed with ecstasy. As her pussy convulsed on the egg inside it, the vibrations intensified, and her pussy clenched tighter and spasmed wildly as her orgasm grew almost unbearably intense. Samantha screamed, a thin line of saliva trickling out the front of her gag, and she was too lost in the sensation to suck it back in. Her hips bucked and she staggered, then let herself fall to her hands and knees as she continued to be rocked by wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure.

She felt a hand cup her chin and lift it up till she was looking straight up at Lester's leering grin. She whimpered out a soft, weak "MMMMMMmmmmmmmphh…" as the afterglow set in and her orgasm diminished, staring half-dazed into Lester's soulless eyes as he ran his thumb in a circle over her lips through the clear plastic of the gag. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he spoke.

"You see? I'm not such a bad guy after all," Lester grinned down at her, his hand on her face keeping her from looking away.

He swiped his phone again and the last lingering vibrations stopped, Samantha panting through the tube and moaning softly.

"Well, it's time for us to leave," said Lester as he and his friends stood up from their seats and buttoned their jackets, "how about a goodbye kiss for your kind Master?"

Samantha nodded, for once glad she was gagged so she wouldn't have to actually touch the lecherous man with her lips, but Lester put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her and keeping her kneeling.

"Mmm?" Samantha asked wordlessly, confused about what the man wanted her to do until he patted the bulge in the front of his pants twice, letting her know where he wanted his kiss.

Face flushed and hot, her body on fire with a post-orgasm bliss intensified by the chemicals in her suit's lube, Samantha groaned and nuzzled the tip of Lester's cock through his pants, lightly brushing her gagged lips against it and sucking deeply on the phallus lodged in her helpless mouth.

"That's a good little cocksucker. I can't wait to see you on HaremFans once your training reaches that point. That's it for today, you're dismissed," Lester pressed a button on his phone and walked away as Samantha's vibroshock let her know it was time to move to her next spot. Groaning, she rose to her feet and followed the device to her next task, wiping several small pools of drool from her tray as she went.

---

Lunch died down by 1:30, and Samantha found herself locked in place in the supply room with Lisa and four other slavegirls she didn't know. The few guests that remained weren't ordering anything, so the women waited in forced silence for their vibroshocks to activate again. They could move, but if they stepped away from their spot, they would be shocked.

The wait was almost unbearable. The women had been running back and forth serving for hours, and now they had the time to let their thoughts run away with them. They couldn't speak to one another, and they were kept apart, locked in place. It was like a prison cell.

It gave Samantha time to reflect on what was going on. She was still in a dreamlike state of arousal and submission after her orgasm. She couldn't believe she had done what she did, grovelling like a whore in front of everyone in the club, and kissing that disgusting man's crotch through his pants. But it had felt so good when he gave her that orgasm, and she knew she was going to be aching for more by the end of the night.

With nothing better to do, Samantha decided to get Lisa's attention. Maybe she could mime out a little chat, and build some sort of rapport with her roommate. She waved, fluttering her fingers in a girly way, and said "hey, Lisa," which came out as "hmph, mmph-mm!" She figured even almost totally muted by the three inch phallus pinning her tongue to the bottom of her mouth, she could get simple concepts and emotions across with tone of voice and gestures.

Lisa looked at her with a combination of annoyance and surprise. Her eyes seemed to ask "really? You're gonna do this now?" but she was locked in place just as much as Samantha, and it would be rude not to reply, Samantha figured, so Lisa nodded and waved her hand a few inches in response, a bored "sup" that was about all Samantha expected.

"Mphh mm mmm mmph!" Samantha smiled with her eyes and drew a tail behind her back in the air with her finger, wiggling slightly like she was wagging a tail. "I like your tail," she was trying to say. She stuck her fingers out from her head mimicking the ears on Lisa's headband, "Mmm mm mmmph."

"Thughs," Lisa sputtered around the ball in her mouth. The ballgag she wore wasn't nearly as restrictive as Samantha's, and she could manage a semblance of broken speech that required a little guessing to be understood. She grabbed her tail and stroked it nervously with her thumb. "Uhh wugh ah kuh tekk ah vuh pugh…" Samantha figured she didn't like the plug that was attached to the tail. It must be uncomfortable.

"Ooh, I bet!" she replied. "Mph, mph mm," she gestured at her gag and shook her head, then shrugged, "mmmph mm mmph, mphh mmm," and shook her head with a pained expression on her face. It was weird, trying to have a conversation through mime and tone of voice alone. She could get the basics across, but she didn't know if her meaning was making its way across. She noticed some of the other slavegirls, who had probably known each other longer, were doing the same thing and making wordless chitchat, commiserating about their situations and trying to cheer each other up, or maybe gossip, who knew. It seemed they were used to interacting without being able to speak, and Samantha figured she'd get good at this eventually too, whether she wanted to or not. The slavegirls would go crazy without any social interaction, after all. It was only natural.

Lisa gave her a sympathetic look but before she could make a response, the door to the supply room swung open and Master Dominic walked in, along with another man dressed in all black who Samantha had seen by the stage earlier. He must have been Master Vincent. Both men wore earpieces that Samantha figured would let them talk to the guards if there was a problem, or with any of the other HaremCo faculty.

Dominic smiled at his slavegirls, and Samantha felt a little giddy as she waved to him. She noticed Lisa touching her hair and dabbing her mouth with her towel nervously, looking down meekly but with her eyes locked on Dominic. The girl seemed to have been lovestruck with the man in spite of herself ever since he stopped those frat boys from violating her. Or maybe, Samantha thought, it was just her natural reaction to the power Dominic had over her, not only to punish, but also reward, protect, and provide.

"Hello, ladies," Dominic said with a smile, "Vincent here tells me you've been very cooperative. It's good to know that you're both responding well to vibroshock control. Anyway, I came to check on you two to see how you're holding up. That gag looks lovely on you, Samantha. Are you finding it challenging? The stim-ball should have helped with your gag reflex, but I'm sure it's still taking some getting used to."

Samantha blushed and smiled with her eyes, sucking in a quick stream of saliva before giving a muffled, "mmm-hmm!"

Dominic stepped up to Samantha and traced a fingertip along her jawline and down the front of her gag.

"Well I think you're handling yourself very well, Samantha. And you too, Lisa, from what I'm told," he walked over to Lisa and cupped her cheek in his hand as she blushed and pressed back into his caress, eyes brimming with admiration for the man, "you look adorable in those ears, with that tail. Blue really is your color, sweetheart. Tell me, do you enjoy pet play? It seems to be pretty popular with your generation."

"Ummh…duh yugh?" Lisa asked tentatively, obviously not into this sort of thing, being a radical feminist, but still pathetically desperate to please Dominic.

"I think it's adorable, especially when a woman really embraces and enjoys the role. Some of the women whose masters board them at the kennels will just melt your heart, and you won't find a happier woman in the world. Something about the simplicity of the role, the love, loyalty and the affection that a pet receives, really keeps a certain type of woman content. Do you think you'd enjoy kitty role play, Lisa? Give us a little 'meow', wouldn't you?"

Lisa flushed red and looked down, her eyes flicking to Samantha's, then to the other women's. They were all staring, and Lisa looked back at Master Dominic. He raised an eyebrow, obviously enjoying the humiliation and fear of judgement in Lisa's eyes. Samantha had a pang of empathy for the girl, who was being forced into something she obviously would have been humiliated at even admitting to herself that she was interested in. She knew how that felt.

Still, blushing and taking a tiny step towards Dominic, Lisa whimpered a pathetic, "muh…myaa-uhh! Myuh-ah, myughm," laboring embarrassingly but sweetly to perform cutely for her master.

Dominic chuckled and Samantha found herself suppressing a laugh. Lisa glared at her and she looked away, smiling.

"Excellent, that's a very sweet kitty," Master Dominic said as he rubbed behind her ears. "Well done."

Lisa smiled at the praise and her shoulders slumped as she relaxed.

"Maybe you should schedule her FreakPet session earlier," suggested Vincent, "it's important to start girls off with situations they'll do well in, or even enjoy. If she takes to it, it could make the rest of her training that much easier."

Lisa's eyes filled with panicked confusion. She had no idea what the men were talking about. Samantha gulped and shuddered, remembering the fox and puppy FreakPet girls she'd seen doing tricks onstage earlier. Still, she'd also met Mittens in the Dollhouse on her tour, and although she couldn't see the expression of the woman within the suit, and didn't even know her real name, she got the real sense that Mittens was a happy kitty. Would Lisa possibly enjoy that experience? Come to that, with the way the men were talking…did that mean wearing a FreakPet suit was a required part of her training? She didn't know if she could handle that…

"Yeah, I think I might do that. I have high expectations for you, Lisa, and I know you won't let me down," he grinned, placing his hand on Lisa's shoulder. Lisa looked down and whimpered, but didn't say anything.

Before the conversation could continue, Cindy popped into the supply room to let the men know that customers were walking in. As she did so, as if on que, one of the tubes whirred and hissed, and one of Vincent's slavegirls grunted as her vibe activated and led her to the tube.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're both performing well, and I'm proud of you," Dominic said as he turned to leave, "continue to make me proud, and look forward to our group training session tonight. Not to spoil the surprise, but HaremCo's come up with a way to make a woman cum in a totally novel way you won't have experienced before. I promise you'll both find it quite exciting. Until then, behave," and he walked out of the supply room with Vincent and Cindy on his heels. Samantha felt like her body had been set on fire, a mixture of shame and arousal at Dominic's words, her skin hot and tingling, her nipples and pussy aching as the lube in the skinsuit continued to warm up and stimulate her body. Just the sight of him, the look in his eyes when he smiled at her, had been enough to turn her on, and she'd been desperately hoping that he'd touch her, vibe her, anything. He hadn't fucked her at his apartment, and he still seemed frustratingly aloof to her sexual availability.

The tube hissed again and another slavegirl was sent out into the club. Samantha and Lisa both looked at each other and saw the same expression on their faces, and the two shared an understanding in the unspoken moment, blushing and nodding. Lisa's cheeks were bright red and Samantha knew she must have looked the same way. Her pussy was throbbing, the muscles of her inner thighs clenching and unclenching involuntarily. The two had the exact same reaction to Dominic, in spite of their differences: the urge to obey, to submit, to be praised and touched by the powerful, commanding Master. Lisa looked away, and Samantha did the same, both a bit ashamed to be so vulnerable, so exposed, and so similar.