This is a cursed story about undertable service girls.
This is not a story for the weak-minded.
That said, enjoy!
Note: all girls in this story are 18+.
Bells rang when Frank opened the doors of the posh restaurant. Smell of coffee and pastry stirred along the cosy and wooden ambiance of the place, the perfect place to have breakfast that early in the day.
"Good day Frank. Same place?" asked the waitress.
"Good morning Sylvia, you know me well", he answered with a smile.
His muscle memory lead him to his favourite seat, a single-person sofa connected to a small table. It was covered by a long and fancy tablecloth that extended to the ground all around, with the exception of an area around the sofa itself. People of this era gave this particular setup the name of "serviced table".
Frank had a very long and stressful week of meetings ahead of him, followed by equally stressful nights with his family situation. These peaceful mornings in this restaurant were his safe haven, moments when he could fully relax and be himself.
He enjoyed the food; the cook made splendid Eggs Benedict, and the cold brew specially prepared by the barista had become essential not to doze while speaking across the phone during the day. The atmosphere of the place was also really pleasant; birds were singing, flowers were blooming, peaceful all around. But what he really loved the most...
... was the gurgling sounds of the poor girl trying to gulp down his morning piss without making too much of a mess.
"Oh God yes, I hope you like the taste my dear. Can you maybe guess what I ate last night?" he asked, a hand on the service girl's head. He turned her head up and looked at her in the eye, fully expecting an answer.
"Gurggrlh.." she gurgled, looking at him with tears in her eyes, having a hard time formulating a coherent answer with so much urine to take care off.
"Exactly! My wife ate out by herself, so to compensate, I prepared a full meal composed of asparagus, onions and Brussels sprouts. Aren't you glad? It's like we shared a meal together!" he exclaimed with a bright smile, looking down at the beautiful girl buried between his legs.
These few seconds of inattention were enough for the accumulated liquid to slightly overflow from the girl's mouth, but she was no neophyte and quickly drank the surplus, focusing once more on her task. She had found a balanced rhythm that alternated between gathering a certain quantity for a few seconds, momentarily blowing her cheeks making her particularly cute, and then swallowing it all with a clear wince. Frank admired the determination of the girl and had fun now and then disrupting her rhythm by varying the pressure, gaining him some angry but adorable glances from the blower.
He sensed his bladder pressure slowly decreasing, and so to end on a positive note, he tried to press the girl's head further down his rod. The chain around her neck didn't give him enough leeway, so he instead actioned his pelvis and thrusted until he could feel her nose on his skin.
As usual, the girl ushered muffled screams as a dark yellow liquid bypassed her tasted buds and ran down her throat. Her delicate hands pressed on his thighs but she lacked the strength to effect anything. She looked at Frank with a gaze of despair as he finished his business deep inside her without any regard for her comfort. By the end, her hands acting nervously on her nether regions, she could not resist leaking neither, a surge of pleasure pervading through her trembling legs; she did not stain the floor though, her own liquids directly collected via the tubes plugged inside her lady parts.
The golden tap eventually stopped running, the girl crying out, still with her mouth full, glad that she had once again survived the ordeal. But Frank didn't release her head yet, petting her in silence for long minutes, enjoying her gagging sounds and the warmth wrapping his shaft.
"Thank you darling. If possible I would really have liked to have a portable version of you, but that would be too cruel. I'm not a monster after all, right?" he asked her, fondling her hair.
"Nhhh" she tried to say, turning her head left and right to reassure her customer, despite what he had done to her. She gave him the brightest smile a girl could give with twenty centimetres in her throat.
"You warm my heart, sunshine, what would I be without you? Alright, time to wrap this up. Here's your dessert, it's on the house", he said before pulling her head out of her throat until his shaft's opening laid on her tongue.
Frank bellowed hoarsely as his accumulated stress and frustration was released in the innocent girl's mouth trapped in his groin. Starter, main course and dessert were delivered upon her tongue; her taste buds relayed the horrible taste due to his last dinner, but she didn't have a choice as she knew her customer's preference.
The release ended after lengthy moans, of pleasure for one and distaste for the other. The girl opened her mouth to display the gluing content, the disgust apparent in her expression. She knew her clients preferred genuine expressions, so she didn't try to hide her cringe while chewing on his filthy copious seed. She swallowed slowly in a few small gulps while maintaining eye contact, and finally lustfully breathed in and out with her tongue out. Her breath retched of bitter urine and male seed, and sticky pubic hair were scattered on her beautiful face, her silver hair dishevelled and partially wet.
"Thank you for the meal, Mister!" she managed to express despite her parched throat, adding a wink to her shining smile.
Satisfied, Frank promptly departed from the restaurant after paying the bill, unloaded and relaxed. He knew these poor girls did not get any other source of nutrition than what their customers released into them, so he felt content with himself, having done a good action. People donate blood to help the sick after all, so why would it be different for the rest?
The waitress glanced at Frank while he left, the bells ringing as he exited the restaurant. He had completely ignored her once again; "Is this bloody table so enjoyable?" she cursed while approaching the target of her contempt. She heard the slutty girl retching, as she seems to try to evacuate yellow phlegm from her throat. "The slut!" she cursed again. Standing near the table, she noticed a few puddles laying in front of the chair; it looked like the blower had missed a few breadcrumbs when eating her meal.
"When I come back I do not want to see a single stain on the floor, understood?" she said with a cold voice.
"Yes Ma'am", answered the girl, tightening her hands in anger behind the tablecloth. She did not dare show her scorn.
The absence of cleaning tools meant that the girl had to improvise with what she had, which wasn't much seeing as she was naked and had no accessory whatsoever. In a humiliating act, she lowered her face to the ground and started licking the floor clean, under the eyes of the vengeful waitress.
Evening, the restaurant finally closed.
The girl was already sleeping soundly, using the tablecloth as a blanket substitute. The tubes plugged in her nether regions took care of her waste, allowing her to digest the collection of nutrients she received from her dear customers. The near litter of male seed was barely enough to cover her energy expenses, though it was a small amount compared to all the golden discharge donated orally through her throat. She hadn't felt thirsty a single time in the three months she had been under this table.
Overall, she had come to like this place; she had some regulars that she could even recognize by taste, the table was small but comfy. The only bad point was maybe the disagreeable waitress, but nothing she couldn't manage. It was all child's play compared to the training centre, and other much worst places she heard about. She would often have nightmares on some nights, bringing her hands to her throat as she choked in her dreams.
It was late at night when the waitress finally decided to commit to her idea, and dialled a number on the phone desk.
"Undertable Service Girls, how may I help you?" asked a gentle voice.
The waitress whispered back at the phone, giving a lengthy explanation.
"I see I see. We are very sorry for the inconvenience caused. We can provide a replacement if necessary, would that be alright?" asked the voice on the phone.
"Yes please, as soon as possible", answered the waitress with excitement.
"Understood! Undertable Service Girls will provide immediate replacement, tonight".
#SU513 woke up after what seemed to be a longer night than expected. She felt fully restored, so she had assumed the sun would have already spread its shine. She took a few minutes to get her bearings and quickly realised she had been moved during her sleep. She was a bit saddened by the lack of smooth transition or goodbye from her former place, but then she remembered the daily treatment she got from the waitress, as well as from some of her customers.
This new place seemed to have very low light, the only primary sources being a few holes on one side, from where she guessed her new clients would pop-up. Overall it looked like a closed box of maximum 1.2 meters high, which as usual did not allow her to stand, and 3 meters on each side. The usual pipes and plug-ins were in the middle. Could this still even be called a table?
She then noticed a small device in a corner, emitting a small blue light, with a big button on it. She pressed it, and it started to talk:
"This is a USG announcement. Checking..." said the speakers on the device. A small rod popped-up from it and quickly swept through the closed box with a blue laser. "Check done. Message starting..."
"#SU513, you have been shifted to a nearby punishment centre. The reason for this is that a complaint was lodged by your former owner, and the extracted reason has been identified as jealousy. You might think you were in the right, but you were not. You violated one of the core values of our company, Humility. This new workplace shall help you remember what it mea..." tried to finish the device before brutally exploding on the side wall.
The girl lowered her arm, breathing heavily, enraged at the idiocy the voice delivered.
"Thank you?!" she screamed, the words she could pronounce unfortunately limited to the pathetic thanks she had to give a customer after drinking his seed. Since long ago she had become quite adept at using these few terms, achieving a surprising amount of nuance even among her peers.
The lack of available words for these girls mislead the public for thinking that they did not have an education, but it was actually utterly wrong. The USG Company had found that a high level of education actually improved the quality of their services, and had therefore intensified their formations. The service girl would have had a perfect score at her A-levels, if only she could pass them. This made the situation even worse for her, who perfectly knew she was wasting her lifetime undertable.
She had to put her frustration aside when her first customer arrived. She quickly inserted the tubes that handled her waste in her nether parts, and began focusing on her task, a welcome change to banish her blues. Thanks to her efforts of yesterday she wasn't hungry yet, but she knew that procrastinating would cost her greatly in energy.
She was especially worried about how this place was different from the former one. The system mentioned that it was a punishment, but apart from the lack of light she didn't notice anything particularly punishing, which made it even more worrisome: the system didn't lie.
She approached the edge of her box, towards the aperture where her customer's sexual organ was already in sight. The gentleman seemed to have some weight (he was clearly obese), but his shaft, already erect, wasn't small by any means.
"Start by cleaning my balls, slut", elegantly demanded her customer.
She obliged and pressed her delicate face on his testicles, giving the man a fantastic smile, and breathed his musk in, making sure he felt her inhalation through his skin, his shaft on top of her head. Her cute tongue started uncovering accumulated sweat in his scrotum, her expertise resulting in the man’s gruntings of pleasure. She eventually opened her mouth wide and took his whole package in, soaking skin and hair in her special saliva bath. She cringed at the bitter taste, but she didn't hate the position; she liked maintaining eye contact while kneading her client's balls, who seemed to appreciate the moment.
Not wanting to let her breakfast go to waste by being too skilled at her job, she released her customer and attacked his shaft. It was a service girl's etiquette not to use her hands, so she had to peel his foreskin with her tongue, which allowed her to taste the remains of fresh urine...
The girl immediately stopped, her smart brain having detected a serious discrepancy that she couldn't ignore. Why did her customer urinate elsewhere if there was a service girl here? What was the point of a service girl if not to deliver her both fluids? Was this gentleman too polite to piss in her mouth?
The customer didn't appreciate the lack of action and decided to take matters into his own hands. He put a hand on the girl's head and started thrusting in her throat, as deep as he could. Her testicles clean-up had already pushed him to the edge, so he didn't last long and gave the girl her first reward of the day.
She felt a copious amount of seed being delivered in her throat, half of it going back to her mouth after gagging a few coughs, her taste buds thanking her for providing such a disgusting stimulus. The mix of old and dried seed that was originally captured under his foreskin, allied with the viscosity of the fresh one and the sour remains of urine made her tear up, hating what she was currently doing.
She didn't hide her disgusted expression, mixing the content in front of her befuddled customer, chewing on it as if she had a hard time passing it through, and then swallowing it, breathing loudly, tongue out.
"Thank you for the meal, Mister!" she exclaimed her usual thanks, followed by a beautiful grin, brightening the day of the lucky man.
The customer would have donated a second time if he wasn't empty, but he was, so he could only nod and take his leave, leaving the girl panting by herself. His absence allowed her to have a peek at the outside. Her eyes widened when she saw the signs on the walls, now understanding the catastrophe that befell on her: where in the restaurant her delicate services were included in the bill, this new place seemed to require a toll for accessing her mouth. The "Golden Delivery" was for some reason quite a lot more expensive than the "Spunk Treatment".
If she had to guess by the sounds of cars she could hear from her box, this cursed place was probably a motorway rest area, which made her particularly cringe in disgust. If her first customer was representative of the baseline, that meant she would have to savour the sweaty organs of a mass of truck drivers who probably wouldn't have the penny for the golden fee.
This was a fine punishment indeed thought the girl, gnashing her teeth. She would have to survive somehow, even she had to plead. Her second customer arrived soon after, and behind him she could already glimpse a long queue of tasty drink-less desserts lining down, most of them looking scruffy, their t-shirt having shared a meal with them on the road.
The new gentleman positioned himself, shaft already standing, beckoning her to approach. She got near his rod and pressed her delicate lips on his glans, giving it a passionate deep-kiss and closing her eyes to relish the taste. His precum mixed in with the fermented remains of dried semen made her cringe in disgust with all her being, suddenly opening her eyes to look at the owner of such a disgusting hygiene.
"Tasty isn't it? I cultivated it for one week straight, especially for one of you service girls. You've got luck on your side!" said the corpulent customer with a sardonic grin.
He took hold of her hair, grabbing them as two handles with his hands, before pulling violently and impaling her throat with his long and dirty shaft, leaving it there as he waited for her reaction. The girl muffled a scream, and then teared up when the accumulated layers of sweat and remains of dried urine made way to her taste buds, his shaft soaking peacefully in her mouth. She looked at him with distressed eyes.
"Lick them" ordered the pudgy client, satisfied with her reaction so far. She was a pro, so he knew she would understand without even having provided explicit details.
Kneeled in front of the gentlemen, her hands on his thighs, her throat utterly plugged, struggling to get oxygen through, she stared at him for a few seconds, as if asking if he was serious. He patted her head and played with her hair, showing he had all the time in the world as she was losing breath. Her lips already connected to his base, she reluctantly extended her tongue outside, reached for his gonads, and licked in a large vertical movement.
She uttered a scream of intense revulsion as the cursed acrid flavour impregnated her mouth and slowly climbed her nose, giving her a literal headache. The tubes in her inner parts got filled with feminine fluids as she experienced her first intense orgasm of the disgust genre, before losing consciousness on his shaft.
"Ahah, looks like you loved my smelly present, girl! Well, the session isn't over yet..." he said as he started raping her throat to awaken the sleeping princess, as any charming prince would.
The girl resurged unwillingly, tearing up at her last tasty memory. Her discomfort lasted a few minutes of back and forth until the gentleman finally erupted his accumulated load in the deeper parts of her throat, where she thankfully could not taste, thought it did not make it less deranging. A few seconds elapsed, her head was still in his groin. She looked up, asking with glance why he had not released her yet.
"Finish your job, service girl" he demanded solemnly.
She closed her eyes, sighed internally, and then opened her jaws wider, loading the rest of her dear customer sexual organs in her precious and ultra-sensitive mouth. Shaft and testicles soaking happily, she cried of disgust.
While in that situation, her genius brain suddenly jolted and she devised a plan to counter the main issue of her punishment: the lack of golden source to assuage her thirst. Her plan was simple: plead her customers to give her their yellow juice.
She calmed the disgusted expression on her face, and adopted the cutest expression she could manage. Her mouth stuffed with his balls like a hamster, her throat thoroughly plugged, she looked at her prince with puppy eyes and managed to deliver one of the only words she was allowed to pronounce.
"M-Meal!" she managed to emit, at the sacrifice of her nose holes expulsing spunk that had gotten stuck in her throat.
The customer stood still in shock, his first time hearing a service girl speaking in the middle of the action. His pleased face adopted a large grin. The girl tried her best to deliver a shining smile in return, though her mouth movements were quite limited. She smiled with her eyes.
"My lovely girl, you liked the taste so much you want a second serving? Fret not, Daddy will deliver!" he promised, starting to hump her throat once again.
The girl rolled her eyes as she accepted the extra-meal. This was going to be a long day.
Evening; the service girl was in a pitiful state. This area had lot more people than she was used to in the restaurant, and this lovely bunch of customers were the worst human beings she had ever attended to. It was as if they all unconsciously concerted to unwind the frustration of their jobs in her young and innocent mouth, each trying to get the highest score in the ranking of the worst flavour her delicate tongue had ever tasted. The worst was the lack of water, or in her case, of golden beverage. Her pleading strategy actually misfired half of the time, most simply ignoring it, and the rest misunderstanding her and hence nearly doubling the amount of raw seed she had to ingest.
She had nearly one litter of seed in her stomach, though she couldn't quantify the amount of other diverse proteins she got for cleaning each of her client's sweaty apparatus. Overall she was now well fed and did not have to worry about hunger, but she could clearly start feeling the impact of dehydration. Her breath was simply obscene, she would get excited just by breathing her own smell, almost a Pavlovian reflex. Her throat and lips were parched; she needed her juice.
The number of customers had dropped to nearly zero, the occasional few willing to give her a midnight snack that she couldn't refuse. The girl thought she could call it a day when she heard steps approaching, rolling her eyes at the depravity of a man who would rather empty his filthy purse than go to bed that late at night.
With a sleepy but cute face, she approached the aperture and opened her mouth, not even bothering to open her eyes. She was utterly surprised when the customer actually addressed her:
"Hi Miss, I'm deeply ashamed of bothering you this late in the night, may I ask you a favour please?" asked the gentleman.
#SU513 immediately opened her eyes in surprise, her mouth agape at these words, these terms, these expressions that never, never had been addressed to her in her life. She discovered with surprise that her late customer was a fancy young man in a bespoke business suit. She was too shocked to properly answer or even cry that she simply nodded by pure submissive reflex.
"I'm grateful! So here's the situation: the urinals on the sides have been closed for the night, and I simply cannot continue driving in this condition. Minding the fact that I've never actually used USG's services before, I'm again absolutely ashamed of having to ask you this: could I please use your services to evacuate?" he asked her, seemingly extremely embarrassed.
The girl could not hold her tears, putting her hands on her mouth, blushing. She took a moment to get her bearings, feeling like a princess for the first time in her life despite her stomach full of filth, her nakedness, her obscene breath, her dishevelled hair, or the seed stains and pubic hair on her face.
She rectified her position, joined her hands in front her and interlocked her fingers as if in a prayer, and then beamed the Sir her brightest smile of the day.
"Meal!" she demanded, then opened her mouth wide, and closed her eyes, to make her customer less embarrassed. She guessed he would not evacuate easily if someone observed him doing so, a way that showed the kind of rare person he was, the kind of person she admired and dreamed of. She eagerly awaited the moment he would insert his shaft deep in her throat; she wondered what he would taste like, maybe like mint?
Laurent's heart melted on the spot. The current pitiful state of the girl, the way she welcomed him, and even smartly accommodated for his special needs, was just too much for his cuteness threshold. And now, what was he going to do to this poor girl? His hesitation didn't last long though as he really had to evacuate promptly. He strengthened his resolve, and opened his zipper.
The girl screamed in surprise when her fancy customer directed his golden stream into her mouth from afar. His aim was terrible, and he actually sprayed his excretion all over her, until finally refining the direction of the spray to allow the girl to satiate her thirst.
Under normal circumstances she would have been enraged at this unfair treatment, as, her customer probably didn't realize, she was clearly going to stay soaked with his urine the entire night, and all the days that would follow, not having the possibility of cleaning herself. Service girls were responsible for their mess and the mess of their customers, and even here it was clearly her fault for assuming he would use a close-quarter strategy and not the long one.
But she didn't mind. The gentleman was being a genuine gentleman for not wanting to brutalise or even touch her with his apparatus. His naiveté was refreshing; she smiled while drinking, even laughing under his golden shower. It took a few more minutes for her client to finish his deed, feeling liberated. He smiled while zipping his pants, and admired the consequence of his act.
He observed as the girl soaked in his urine started licking herself like a cat, delectably drinking the remains of his juice dropping from her arms and her hair, as if she hadn't drank in forty days. Clean enough, she joined her hands in a thanking manner, bowed down, and emitted her first genuine thanks in a while.
"Thank you, thank you for the meal!" she express gratefully, tears in her eyes, her smile a sunshine in this dark night.
Laurent's heart melt once more. He pondered for a few seconds, then glanced at the informational post-it only visible on his side, and took his phone, dialling-in. The girl looked at him, worrying about what wrong she had unintentionally done to justify her charming prince lodging a complaint.
"Undertable Service Girls, how may I help you?" asked a gentle voice.