A single flickering lantern overhead framed me like a a spotlight, surrounded by darkness. Twelve silhouettes, and more pairs of eyes, were trained on me. Each was seated at a polished wood table that curved across half of the circular chamber. I'd come alone, as requested, and in uniform.
My potential employers were silent.
I stood, chest out, my B-cup breasts straining against the fabric of a frilled low-cut blouse. My midriff was bare, my feet gleaming in a set of black heels.
The maid service had insisted a wear a chastity belt to this interview. Its crotch bit into my thighs, hidden beneath a pleated skirt that stopped halfway up them. White stockings and a floating collar with a bow completed my ensemble.
The half-lit shapes surrounding me put a flutter in my stomach. They were humanoid, but none hit the mark spot on. Some were too large, some too small. Each had a variation of horns, extra appendages, wings, or tendril-like hair that moved unnaturally.
"W-would it please my masters if I introduce-?" I struggled out before being cut off, returning my eyes to the floor.
"You brought us here for this? She looks weak, untrained." One of them spoke, I couldn't pin which, a feminine voice with the harshness of a man's and reverb that could shake mountains.
"My appraisal confirms it, not a single affinity above E+. I bag better at The Schlock-Grub regularly," said another, this one sounded more like wind than words, "and look, she's wearing a chastity belt."
He wasn't wrong. I'd only been in this world a few days, with no idea what I was doing. I had to beg the maid-service, the only class-hall that I had any relevant experience for, cooking and cleaning, to take me on. Based on my lack of any credentials, this was the best they would give me, an afternoon's primer on a maid's role and duties, a hand-me-down outfit, and a chance at the one opening every other available maid had either refused or been rejected from.
I knew I'd have to do something to stand out, and fast, before they dismissed me. They wanted sex, that much was apparent. I wasn't opposed, in fact, being here, at the center of all these eyes, made my knees weak and my pussy clench, I was starting to gush.
The maid service had made it explicit, this could and would likely be part of my duties. The chastity belt was more of a precaution, in case I got cold feet. I hadn't. I was stoked.
When I'd arrived, somehow sucked into the setting my best friend had created for a 19th birthday role-playing party game, I was frightened. But she was a gooner if there ever was one, and I knew that if I had one chance of survival, it was leaning into kink. I had to make a place for myself in this world, and if that meant being the maid, and free-use sub, of a bunch of monster-folk, even better.
My hands trembled, not from fear, but excitement. I lifted my skirt, exposing my lap to this bizarre crowd, and placed a finger to the belt's rune. Then, I uttered its command-word, "Regres."
Hinges snapped open and the thing dropped to my feet in a clatter. My blushing wet pussy, auburn triangle at its crest, was on full display.
I tiptoed out of the magic and steel contraption and bent at the waist to pick it up. I took my time, then stepped forward to place it at the table's apex, "A sample of my willingness, for your consideration."
The woman in front of me, I assumed she was in charge by her place at the table, had short black hair that gleamed. A cage-like helmet sat to her right. I couldn't read her expression. She didn't look down. I did, her gaze was too much.
"Hah! Now that's how you make an impression!" A young woman's voice with a gremlin's rasp echoed through the chamber, "Give her the test!"
"That test is how we ran off the last six. Start her slow, we've got dishes to clean and beds to make, if this plan of Kaela's is ever going to take root." That came from the smallest of them, two seats to the left, a silhouette with floppy ears.
What test?
No one had mentioned a test.
Did the maid service really think so little of me they'd send me in here without that info?
Behind me, a murmur rolled through them like a rising tide.
"Let's get on with it." Kaela said. Her voice echoed when it shouldn't have, like it'd bounced around in her chest a few times before escaping her lips. God how did she do that, it was like live ASMR, if I had a recording I'd finger myself to it nightly.
A juicy thunk interrupted my daydreaming. My eyes shot right, someone had slapped a cudgel onto the table.
Are they going to beat me!?
I stared at it, wide-eyed. It was thick as a wine-bottle, long as my arm, midnight-blue, veined, and its head came to a crest. It inched longer and longer with each heartbeat.
It's a cock, an impossible cock.
My hand shot to my mouth and I peeled my gaze from it. It grew from a silhouette that was definitively feminine, her humongous tits gave that away. She was on her knees and still easily twice my height. Three waterfalls of silver hair descended from a pair of smooth long horns on her forehead.
I'd always avoided futa stuff, because, yuck. But... yum.
How though? What the fuck was I supposed to do with that thing, as badly as my pussy wanted it, there was no way.
"H-how would my master like for me to serve," I pleaded for direction.
"No-no! No hints!" The gremlin girl shouted.
"You give it your all," her brutal, powerful voice hammered into me from above. It was a whisper of reassurance that felt like a goddess's decree.
I crawled onto the table and pulled a small tin flask of massage oil from my waist-band. I flipped the stopper, and began drizzling it over the throbbing length. "Jasmine," that voice narrated for the room. The sound of it slipped the flask from my hand. It hit the table with a dull thum.
I tried to center myself, placing my hands on the rough, hide-like skin of her still growing erection. Veins as thick as my thumb pulsed beneath it. I began to slide my palms up and down the length and made sure not to miss a spot. She throbbed as I slid a hand between her and the table. I ran it up and down to the waddle-like bit of flesh beneath her tip and gave it a good squeeze.
It felt like I was barely making an impact. This thing wasn't rigid, it was in that semi-hard state you had to really shlurp to get a man going.
If I could just get her to fuck me, some part of me, get a grip on this thing somehow.
Maybe hug it.
Or...
Or give her a thigh-job…
I lifted the unwieldy thing and swung a leg under it. As it draped across me, hot, I lowered onto my back and dragged it up onto my chest. Then I wrapped my other leg around. Her tip rested against my chin, the size of a volleyball, slick dimples along its length, "If it would please Master to fuck my thighs..."
She gave me a single short thrust that knocked my jaw and made my teeth clatter.
"You call that grip? I've plowed hill-giants that were tighter."
"Sorry...master." I squeezed my thighs as best I could manage and pulled down the ruffles of my blouse to expose my tits. Then I wrapped them around the sides of her shaft and turned my head to the side, in hopes of avoiding another uppercut,"I'm ready now master, please try again."
The monstrous woman reached down with long fingers that ended in black, pointed claws that could easily slice through limbs. She slid them around my back and then clasped them to my waist. They felt like iron bands. I tensed as she rolled me around her length. Then I was resting atop it, still in her clutch. Fuck me you blue-skinned queen.
She began to thrust slowly into my thighs. My skirt flipped, slick with oil, as my clit rubbed along the length of her. Each bump, dimple and vein caught against it and sent hot waves through me, "Mmmm-"
It was getting harder, longer. I nuzzled my head against her tip, and its crest battered against my chin. I stuck out my tongue and let myself taste her. It lapped along her, savoring jasmine oil, sweat and brimstone. "Mmm-yes, please Master, use me...make my body your ona-hole…mmm-nngh…" Her pelvic bone was a shelf I could ride like a park-swing. It crashed into my pussy, "Ahng!"
It was bad, it might even bruise, "Oh, God!"
Again!
My hands fell off my slippery tits and I wrapped my arms tight around her shaft. With auburn pigtails that were drenched in oil, I nuzzled her and dragged my nose back and forth across her mushroom-head. "Please Master!"
The gremlin's voice called out again."This one's broken in the best way, lets keep her!"
That hollow echo replied, and my heart wrenched, "We're not done."
Someone else added, "There's no way Bura's going to finish, that maid's not a damn troll."
I couldn't place the voice, I didn't care, I had to make her cum.
She, Bura, huffed, then her hand wrenched my body forward. I wasn't a maid, wasn't a woman, I was a cloth to rub herself with. She polished her tip with me. I tried my best to get a grip on her, to help, but it was no use. Her cock drug across my chest, flung my tits wide, and tilted my head until my shoulders ached.
Then came a pulse, and a push. Her tip pressed into me not by her hand's movement, but by its own.
She's close.
"Mmmm-Master please… please coat me…"
Bura's hand shook, those spear-like nails pressed into my side. Oh my God if she loses control…
Then I was pulled up, off of her, into the air. Her other hand grabbed my leg like a vice. She let go with the first, just for a moment, and I dangled midair. She re-gripped me with it around my other leg, and guided me back down, legs split, pussy splayed. I was pulled taut against her rigid rumbling shaft. When she pulled back it drove my eyes to the top of my head. "Oh-oh God!" My clit!
Her cock receded between my legs and I felt every fucking inch. It drove fireworks through my pussy and up my spine. They shout out my pigtails like a 4th of July finale, and I screamed, "Nnngghh-ah-ah-haaah!"
My chest fell limp and I slumped over her tip. The world spun as I planted thankful kisses on the dew-drenched split of her volley-ball. My head dropped and I gazed along the bottom of her length. She roiled. One of those thumb-nails worked her cock-waddle.
"Hunh—" she groaned, as her cock pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Then came the rush. Hot, thick, she released a flood of climax that coated my face in waves. The taste hit first: sharp, spicy, almost electric. My breath caught. My mouth flooded. My head tipped back as more spilled past my cheeks and hair.
I gasped, blinking through the mess, lips trembling as I whispered, "Th-thank you…"
My body sagged against the table. Everything still hummed. Voices blurred behind the ringing of my ears. Then one cut through. It was Bura's, satisfied, "Good enough."
If magic was real, and apparently it was, I would find a way to take that dick, all of it.
"So, she's in right? This chick can obviously hang," came the gremlin's voice.
There it was again, thigh-clenching echo ecstasy, "She's in."
I ran a wrist over my eyes, this was madness, beautiful madness.
"Welcome to the team, slut!" said the gremlin girl. She had one bulging, jaundice, slitted eye spread across the top of her face. As she hovered above me, she grinned with a mouth of shark's teeth. Around her head, a nest of black hair undulated into eye-topped stalks.
How can she be cute?
She definitely is.
"T-thank you Master." I said, and pushed up onto my elbows. The others were filing out of the room through a pair of pillars at its rear. Bura was already gone.
"You cut the Master shit with me," she said, "I'm Xar'Bor The Lustful, or Xar'Bor, or Xar." One of her eye-stalks pinned on me, it was glowing a soft-blue, bathing me in a beam of light. I felt lighter than air as it pulled me from the table with a wet shluck.
We glided through the pillars at a slow pace, never approaching the others. Another of her eye-beams, this one a wispy orange, brushed the floor behind us and disintegrated any stray drips in puffs of smoke. She licked her lips and muttered something about "Oni-Curry" in another language, and her grin split ear to ear.
"We've got business to talk," she said, "now that you're on payroll. I'm sort of minionly challenged at the moment. The others are busier, so you'll be reporting to me."
I doubt it was a coincidence that I was floating exactly at up-skirt height for her black dress. She had a camel-toe highlighted by a soft glow that emanated from beneath her lace panties.
"Of-of course, Ms. Xar'Bor The Lustful," I turned my eyes to the wall, and watched the pillars drift by.
"What are you doing?" she called back, "When one is gifted a glance at the seat of power, one glances."
"Yes ma'am." I glanced. I glanced long.
"Better," she purred, "Now, your duties. Yes we like to monster mash around here, but there is work to be done, there's a plan, a grand master plan, and it needs a maid."
What!? How in the world was I going to fill a role these practical demigods couldn't easily tackle?
"Good question. Surface-side relations. We're building a resort."
She's inside my head!
"I am, so yeah. It's got hot-spring, a tavern and kitchen, rooms that need to be turned down, the works. We need someone to manage it. Someone who won't trip the occasional detect evil alarm. Someone who reports to us. You, Miss Monster-Harem Smut Connoisseur from an alternate reality, are that someone"