The first thing about the room that struck me, was the dim red lighting in an otherwise pitch black room. The second thing was that most of the men were dressed as bare chested dominants, while all the women were dressed as subs in every manner of leather and rubber outfits one could imagine. And the third thing was that I was in the wrong place!
I turned to Dorf. “Er… I should be in the ‘The Hoffenberg Rubber Ball’. This is another venue!” I pointed out anxiously.
“No, all the agency girls are contracted to the Hoffenberg private club.” Explained the faired haired manager. “The ball is being held downstairs.”
I looked round, bewildered by the absolute incompetence of the police department. They were probably looking for me right now, I thought. However, it shouldn’t take them long to realize their mistake and come upstairs to where I was working. I’d have to keep my eyes open, while I mingled with the members and bide my time until they arrived. Then they could sort the fucking mess out.
“Come on,” he urged, pulling my arm. “I’ll show you around.” The vast room wasn’t crowded and as the customers moved about in groups chatting with each other, I could see right across to a bar on the far side.
We headed to the left and I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying the sensation of latex swirling around my butt cheeks and thighs. Coupled with the heady scent of rubber, I was feeling a little light headed.
We entered an area where at least twenty round tables were prepared for diners to sit and eat. Only three of the tables were occupied, by an assortment of odd couples. One particularly aggressive looking guy had put a plate of food on the floor, so that his boy-sub could eat doggy-style. The young man’s spiked leather collar was attached to a heavy chain that hung from the back of his master’s chair.
The boy, who I guessed was about my age, wiggled his naked butt in the air, while gobbling the food. I was surprised to see that although he was brazenly displaying a small, flaccid veined cock, hanging between his legs, his testicles had been removed.
I think my blonde haired guide deliberately stopped me next to the dog-boy to excite him. It worked, because he immediately sat back on his haunches and gaped up at my tight lipped pussy from his lowly position. The boy’s eyes popped and he began to lick his lips.
“Karl,” My guide addressed the boy’s master. “New girl. She’ll be on the button later if you want to reward your boy.”
“Maybe,” the dominant growled. He looked me up and down. “Bend over girl, let my boy sniff your ass!” I reluctantly bent over and got the surprise of my life when the boy started licking my anal whorl.
“Down boy!” Came the command and the boys tongue was gone. I stood up and turned round. “Nice ass!” he said and then added. “Maybe later.”
The boy’s cock had sprung to life and pointed directly up his smooth belly. I imagined being made to crawl on the floor with him fucking me doggy style. We moved on, past the dining tables and Dorf stopped at the bar.
“If a member or guest requires anything special, you come and get it. No money changes hands. For starters though you get your drinks from the kitchen. Follow me.”
I noticed several girls floating among the members, dressed in exactly the same outfits as myself, except for the different colour gloves.
“This is where I want you to work tonight,” Dorf explained.
We had entered a maze of high sided booths. Some were occupied, while most were empty. Each booth had a horseshoe shaped seat, which surrounded a low upholstered bench about three feet long.
“Circulate with a tray of drinks, until midnight and then I expect you’ll be busy on your buzzer for the rest of the night. Remember, more cock, more money!” Nice catchphrase, I thought.
“Follow me,” he commanded.
He led me into a kitchen that was full of stainless steel worktops and cupboards.
“This is Chef Hugo,” he said, introducing me to a huge man mountain dressed in an equally huge white outfit. The chef wiped his hands on his apron, while his greedy eyes examined my figure.
“Who you got there Dorf?” he growled.
“New girl. Get her a tray of drinks. She’s working the booths tonight. I’ll leave her with you Hugo. Got to go.”
Dorf rushed away leaving me with the lecherous big guy.
“Have you got a name, girl?”
“Zoe, chef.” He seemed like a jovial character, like a lot of Germans.
“Nice body. Lift your skirts Zoe. Show me what you’re selling tonight.”
I obliged, giving him a good look at my vulva; and then doing a turn to show him my ass. I needed friends around me until I got out of the club, so I saw no harm in giving him a show. His eyes sparkled and he seemed pleased by my submissive act.
“I’ll get a tray,” he said, turning and walking toward the end of the kitchen.
The moment his back was turned I saw my chance to grab a weapon. Dirty knives and forks had been left in a pile beside me, presumably waiting to be washed. I grabbed a beautiful silver dinner knife and carefully pulling one of the metal bones in my corset away from my body, then slid the knife down between the rubber corset and latex top. It was the perfect hiding place.
The Chef returned with the tray, which had four pints of beer and four glasses of champagne tottering on it. I was dreading spending half an hour with the tray and would be a lot happier when the night was over. He placed the tray on the bench and moved closer to me.
“20 Euros for a lap dance?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied. “Where?”
“Over here.” He led the way down the kitchen and into a small office. He plonked himself down on a huge leather swivel chair, placed his knees together and patted them. I needed no second bidding. I jumped up and gave the guy the show of his life.
After he had had a good suck on my nipples, I stood on his chair, put the latex skirts over his head and rubbed my pussy all over his face. Then I laid back along his legs and waived my boots in the air, as though I was a cheerleader.
Gradually his eyes glazed over and by the time I had finished, I think his heart was about to give out. He gratefully handed over 30 Euros, which I tucked down my corset and then left him to recover from my exertions!
On my way back through the kitchen to get my tray, I stopped dead in my tracks. Lying in three inches of water, in one of a row of sinks, lay a 9″ brown handled Chef’s knife.
Exactly what I needed to defend myself, if I ran into Jürgen in the club. I quickly picked it out and replaced the dinner knife, between the layers of rubber, before taking it back to where I had found it.
As I stepped out to begin work, I felt a lot better. I didn’t actually believe the man was stupid enough to come to the club, but I planned to stay alert just in case.
I did a few tours of the booths and received a lot of randy comments from the patrons and knew that they would soon be buzzing me for sex. I had just arrived back in the kitchen with an empty tray, when I received my first shock from the collar. I mentally groaned from the pain, but it had faded by the time I began searching the booths for my trick.
I soon found the guy who had zapped me. It was the mean looking guy with the dog-boy.
“Max wants to taste that ass of yours again, whore,” he exclaimed. “Get up on there!” He pointed at the padded bench in the centre of the seating. The boy was on his haunches, erection bursting to shaft my ass and tongue hanging out, just like a real mutt!
I clambered onto the bench, so that my ass pointed toward the seating, giving us a little privacy from the other members walking by. The big gay guy dragged his dog-boy round, unnecessarily and pointed at my ass.