He needs a waitress

"Fine, you can sleep in the kitchen," he growls, walking over to a keg.

"Oh, thank you sooooo much!" You say, almost crying from relief. A string of nightmares had been playing in your head, all involving being **** out on these streets at night. Thank the gods-

"Not so fast, girlie," he replies, filling up three tankards with three beverages. "You said you were willing to work, right?" You nervously nod your head. "Good. Place is pretty busy tonight. You wait the tables, you get to stay the night. Do we have a deal?" Grabbing a platter, he places the three mugs on it and slides it in front of you.

"Oh, uhhh, yeah I guess..." Waiting tables in your current state was not an appealing thought. "Ummm, d-do you have something I could wear?" The old man curses under his breath, rummaging around under the bar. Eventually, he throws an apron onto the counter. It's a skimpy little thing, not exactly what you had in mind. You are not exactly in a position to complain, though, so you just slip it on. It barely covers your tits, your ample cleavage spilling out the sides. It does come down to your knees, keeping your virgin pussy covered, but leaves your ass completely open.

"Come on, it's table four!" Victor shouts, pointing out the table for you. Quietly apologizing, you grab the platter and make your way to the customers. Navigating the tavern is just as hazardous as you expected. On your way to the table, you are barraged with lewd comments and outright sexual propositions! What's worse, two of the patrons decide to slap your ass as you pass. Each time makes you almost drop the drinks, much to the amusement of the crowd. After what feels like forever, you finally make your way to table four. There are three men at this table, all well past their fifties, all staring at you like a piece of meat.

"Hello Sirs," you whimper, shifting nervously in your revealing apron. "Uhmm... who ordered what?"

"I had the pale ale, sweetie," the man closest to you replies. As he speaka, he slowly runs his hand up your leg. You shiver as he molests you, his lecherous fingers getting closer and closer to your ass. You could protest, but in this crowd you have a feeling that would not end well. Instead, you just set his drink down in front of him.

"The brown ale's mine!" The man to your right calls, a knowing grin on his face. As you place the drink in front of him the hand finally reaches your ass. You shudder as he squeezes your juicy flesh, just wanting this to be over. The last man is across the table so you attempt to walk around. However, the hand on your ass stops you, harshly squeezing.

"You can reach him from here, sweetheart!" Your groper jeers, the table erupting in vicious laughter. You try to move again but are once more stopped by his iron grip. Not seeing another option, you bend across the table. As you do, your ass is pushed up against the invasive hand, your cheeks spreading as you extend. Just as you put the tankard down you feel a thumb roughly jammed against your tight asshole. You scream as you straighten, slapping the hand away from your tightest hole. The old man relents, the entire tavern cracking up at your expense. Now just carrying the platter, you scurry back to the bar, panting by the time you get to the bartender. You look up, hoping to get some sympathy from Victor.

Instead, he just places four pale ales in front of you. "Table Eleven, all the way in the back. Adventuring party. Get to it."

Knowing you will get no compassion from the harsh bartender, you load the drinks on your platter and set off again.