Intermission

Once I return to my room, now officially the service room, I have a few minutes to myself. I boot up my computer and load Steam, then launch Cyberpunk 2077 for a few minutes of mindless, easily-saved fun, stealthily killing the nameless thugs.

Mom will serve dessert, soon, which means more time for them to socialise. Round Two won't start immediately, so I have a little time. More than that, I won't be expected to lubricate myself, because I have no way to know how long they will be.

Dessert could take ten minutes, it could take thirty. It gives me time to digest the milk in my stomach, at least somewhat, making more room when they do come in. I'll meet them, properly, when they come in. Their faces, not only their cocks.

I track the time, making sure I know when I should save and shut down the game. I'm allowed, by Amy's rules, some game time, when I have no one who needs service from me. So I play, clicking and stealthily creeping along, because that's safer.

Not safer for V, because I am good enough at the game to handle live combat, safer for me. You can't save during combat, and I am a cock slave. Those who have access to me, for whom I am free use, don't owe it to me to wait until combat ends.

I could pause, of course, by hitting the Escape key, or opening the menu, but stealth is just safer. I can shut down, swiftly, in under a minute, if I need to turn off my computer. As a lawful cock slave, I am required to treat cock as my top priority.

I'm expecting to receive five bonus loads, for dessert. All five will likely want another round in my mouth, before moving to my ass. I'll be a mess at the end, because Enzo and Juno will overflow me, so the floor will likely be, meaning cleaning.

For now, however, I can focus on the mindless fun of a first-person shooter with a cool universe, excellent gameplay, and absolutely no good ending. There're multiple endings, but the only real choice you ultimately have is how V ends up dead.

Ten minutes, I note on the clock, as I hear the sound of dinner being put away. Enzo and Juno and their friends providing Mom with assistance. Dessert being served, more happy conversation and ebullient laughter filtering down the hallway.

I smile, myself, listening to it in the background as I play. Ten more minutes, then another four, before I hear the dishes being collected, again. I save the game and quit, then start the shutdown process. I will be expected to be where I belong.

I wait until my computer is completely turned off, then slide out of the chair and push it back in. I move to the centre of the service room and ease down on my knees. I can hear movement in the kitchen, meaning I have a couple minutes left.

The me time is over.