Welcome to Barely Legal!

The day had finally come. Barely Legal was the talk of the town - for both good and bad - and the hype lead to it being a full house for opening night. The lights were turned down low, the music turned up, and the drinks flowed liberally as soon as doors opened.

And it was a full "family affair", as it was, with the girls serving as a dancers, waitresses, and whores (depending on their shifts), Rob's various muscle-sluts servings as bouncers - his eyes and ears - and the mothers as both hostesses and bartenders, smiling proudly as their beloved daughters sold their bodies all night long.

With Zatanna's magic eliminating the need for sleep, everyone happily and eagerly worked through the night, from dusk until the crack of dawn, with nary a complaint. Whether bouncer or whore or server, they were all too happy to serve their Master and make his dream a reality.

////

"Here are you drinks, boys. Enjoy~" Luz set down the tray of fresh drinks for the customers to enjoy, gathering up their empty glasses, as well. And, while she was there, she may as well take a moment to enjoy the show.

https://twitter.com/Cotonus/status/1675653060670922752

The table had hired Amity to be their private girl for their time in the club, and they wasted no time in using their private girl to their heart's content, gangbanging the poor lesbian girl to the point of exhaustion. Amity laid across the tabletop, panting heavily and smiling deliriously, her sumptuous pale flesh covered in cum. Luz smiled and giggled at the sight of her girlfriend; she looked so sexy like that. Luz would like nothing more than to lap up all the yummy cum off of her.

And, despite Amity's exhausted condition, her customers were not letting up. Thick, turgid cocks pumping in and out of all of her holes, her hands, all along her pert breasts, her flat tummy - everywhere and anywhere the four men could reach. Amity absorbed all the ****, shuddering and groaning with every bit of cum shot in her or on her.

Luz was so lost in the moment, she was practically drooling over the scene of her girlfriend being turned into a cocksleave by these four strangers. She moaned softly, squeezing her thighs and rubbing her palm against her crotch. She wanted nothing more than to join in on the fun. Luz loved the idea of her and Amity being the centerpiece of an orgy, showing off their love for one another for a group and then being fucked to high heaven.

But, alas, Luz was on waitress duty this shift. Horny slut though she might be, she had to follow the Master's rules for the club. Hopefully she would be purchased by a guest next shift. Better yet, maybe someone would splurge on a combo deal, buy Luz and Amity for their two hour block.

The earpiece in Luz's ear buzzed to life. "Luz, mija," the dulcet tones of her mother filled her ear, "the drinks for table five are up and ready to go. Be sure to get your cute little butt over here on the double, okay?"

"Okay, mama." Luz replied, before taking one last forlorn look at the four men fucking her girlfriend. She gathered up her things and set off for the bar, turning away with a soft sigh.

A girl can dream.

/////

"Alright, everyone, please put your hands together and welcome to the main stage, the Pink Dream herself... Miss Mina Ashidoooooo!!!"

Applause and cheers rose up, loud enough to overtake the ever-present, cacophonous background noise of the club for a moment. The curtains separating the backstage and the runway ramp wavered for a moment, spotlight focusing on it for the benefit of those who had gathered around the main stage, before they dramatically parted open, Mina making her grand entrance, strutting her stuff on the runway to thunderous applause.

https://www.deviantart.com/sixpathsoffriendship/art/Ashido-Dance-987417702

Mina smiled brightly to her adoring (slightly ****) fans, genuine and sincere, because she loved this. She loved being the centre of attention. Being the centre of affection. She loved having all eyes on her. Being the object of lust for so many. Each step she took was deliberate and perfect. She made sure to sway her hips, wiggle her ass, and shake her tits. She made sure to stay in the spotlight, perfectly calibrated to show off her lacy black lingerie and her bright pink skin. Her eyes scanned across the club floor, a pall of darkness beyond the intoxicating majesty of the spotlight, but she could still peer beyond it. Other girls were working the pole on the smaller stages - Anne Boonchuy and Kim Possible and Starfire and GoGo Tamago. They had their crowds, their admirers. But nothing like what Mina had on centerstage.

Master had awoken the slut in her, but it seemed she had found that, deep down, Mina Ashido was a giant diva.

There were whistles and catcalls and hooting and hollering as Mina made her way to the end of the runway, terminating in a circular platform with a golden stripper pole in the middle. She took hold of it with one hand and leaned forward, as much as she could, swinging freely along the poll in a slow, lazy circle, her free hand reaching out towards the audience. "Hey, boys..." she called in a smoldering voice, low enough so that they could barely hear her over the thumping club music. Just that one action, with the way she looked at them all - like they were the sexiest studs around - sent the crowd wild.

"Dude! She's so fucking hot!"

"But why the pink skin, though?"

"It's just bodypaint. She probably puts it on just for her act."

"But why, though?"

"Dude, shut the fuck up. Who cares why? It's sexy, okay!"

Mina giggled. Such silly boys. It's like they had never seen or heard of a Quirk before.

Still, she was thankful for her appearance. She was use to standing out in a crowd - neither relishing or regretting it before. But now, now she felt blessed. One look at her pink skin, pink hair, black and yellow eyes, and her horns and she was unforgettable, unmistakable, and utterly irresistible.

Quickly, Mina went into her routine. Modern dance was more her thing, hip-hop and breakdancing to be specific, but she had trained hard in the erotic art when Mr. Daily made his plan for the club clear. Even now, so earlier into her career as a professional slut, all the movements came second nature to her. It wasn't a groundbreaking routine or anything, as Mina shimmied and shook, danced and twirled, grinding along the pole, and performing a few acrobatic maneuvers. She put on a few flourishes for her audience, though. Blowing kiss and licking her lips. Groping her impressive bust and rubbing her cunt. Pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek, holding a hand up to simulate felatio.

The boys loved it. They exploded in cheers, dollar bills raining down on the stage. Mina took extra care to shove them into her bra and garter with flair, kissing and licking the bills and offering her gratitude.

"Mmm, thank you so much, boys..." Mina thanked from her knees, chest thrust out, rolling her hips round and round. Fuck, being a stripper and whore was the best. Being a star was even better. Dozens of men sat below her, totally enamored with her and her performance. "You've been all so generous tonight, I think you deserve a treat..."

"We love you Mina!" Someone cried out from below. Mina chuckled politely, blowing another kiss.

"And I love all of you. My fans, my adoring public." She sighed, pouting her lips and batting her eyes. "So about that treat... who would like to come up to join me on stage for a special finale?"

The cheers were deafening, as Mina's loyal customers surged forth to the stage, picking up on her innuendo and whipping their cocks out with reckless abandon. Mina was sure Mr. Daily might be a little upset she instigated a blowbang right on centerstage, but she was sure it would be okay. She was the star of the show, and the star had to give her fans what they want, after all.

////

At Barely Legal, those who were sat in a private booth (a highly sought after position in the club; they were often fully reserved every night before doors opened) could buy a girl for their time. Any girl working that night was available for purchase, and became exclusive to the table for the entirety of the guest's stay. They were servers and companions and partners, but mostly, the purchased girl was to be the table's whore for the evening; submitting to the sexual whims of the customers.

Amongst the Slut Class girls (now the Barely Legal girls), it was a mark of honour to be selected early and often by the private booths. Proof positive that Mr. Daily was right to believe in you, that you had made it as a slut.

Tonight, at the start of the midnight shift, Gwen Tennyson was finally selected to work one of the booths, four hours into service. She was mortified. Did all the customers tonight have no taste? Who wouldn't want a cute, petite redhead with her tight, slender body servicing them? Well, whatever. Gwen managed to put a smile on her face, pushing away her annoyance and bitterness, and made the best of what she was given.

It was only a one-top table, but that was fine. More quality time with her guest. She quickly swung by the bar for her customer's drink and made her way to the second floor of the club, where the private booths were spaced around the balcony.

"Hello, sir, and welcome to Barely Legal. My name is Gwen, thank you so much for purchasing me tonight. I look forward to serving your every desire, sir."

https://www.deviantart.com/rosvo/art/Gwen-bunny-time-408643766

The girls' outfits varied from night to night at the club. Sometimes they would wear whatever slutwear they wanted - tube tops and lycra mini skirts and the like - but other times it was swimsuits, or lingerie, or school girl outfits, or cosplay (Gwen thought she made an awesome Batgirl). Tonight, everyone was traipsing about in bunnygirl outfits, with Gwen wearing a powdered blue teddy. She would have preferred a catgirl outfit, but it was close enough.

Her sole customer, an older gentleman with wider shoulders and a broad chest, smiled when he caught sight of bunny Gwen, eyes running up and down her lithe, sexy body. "My goodness, look at you! You're young enough to be my granddaughter!"

"Oh, please sir," Gwen waved her hand at the man. "You're far too handsome and virile to have a granddaughter." Mr. Daily had taught they it was always important to make the customer feel special. To never reject them out of hand, no matter what they looked like or how old they may be. "But, regardless, you family must be lucky to have such a strong, strapping patriarch like you." Gwen leaned forward, smiling, her own eyes taking in the man before her. He was handsome, despite his age. He sort of reminded Gwen of her own grandpa. Or even Mr. Daily. Though, nowhere near as handsome or domineering as her beloved teacher.

Setting the gentleman's drink on the table, Gwen leaned forward and said in a husky voice, "If you want, I can call you 'daddy' tonight, sir."

Sincerity and geniality were key to their service, Mr. Daily had told them. Guests were special. They needed to be treated as special. This man was paying good money for Gwen's body, so she had to give him his money's worth. And, when his smile grew even brighter, Gwen knew he had his type pegged down.

Chuckling, the man said, "This is what I love about girls these days. Forty years ago, girls were so prim and proper. Now you're all just a bunch of sluts, aren't you?" The man patted his lap, Gwen eager to take his invitation.

"Oh, you have no idea, daddy." Gwen said, drawing out the last word. She swung her legs across her John's lap, hand on her chest, pressing her pert breasts into his arm. "We're all such **** sluts; bitches in heat, looking for a man who can tame us. Who can make us his own. I'm so happy to have a big, strong man like you all to myself tonight, daddy~"

There was no time for foreplay after that, the man diving right into Gwen and her lovely body with gusto. Busy hands and a busier mouth explored her body, Gwen feeling so relieved to be appreciated by a customer. Just cause she didn't have two watermelons dangling from her chest, didn't make her any less of a slut from the others. At least there was someone in this town with some taste.

Still, as the man fondled her tits and her ass, made out with her, spanked her, slapped her, and just generally used her as a living sex-doll, Gwen's mind wandered. The first day in class, she had seen Mr. Daily's drawing of her having sex with her grandpa. It disgusted her at the time, but now? She still wasn't thrilled at the idea, but she supposed if Master ordered her to, she would have to obey.

The older man slid aside the crotch of Gwen's leotard, making an opening for her pussy, and promptly speared her on his cock. She shivered and moaned, clutching onto him for dear life. He was a big, burly man, just like Master and grandpa. Gwen loved having partners that were that much larger than her.

"Mmm, fuck yes, Gwen, your cunt is so tight and needy! You want this, don't you, you little slut?"

"Oh, yes, daddy! Yes!" Gwen cried out, swiveling her hips atop the man's cock. In her mind's eye, she saw her beloved Master. She saw Grandpa Max. It was so revolting an idea anymore. "Fuck my naughty pussy, daddy! Give me everything I got coming to me! Oh, yes!!!"

Gwen smiled and cheered, bouncing on her John's cock for quite sometime. Giving him his money's worth. His cock wasn't too bad, but Gwen and the other girls learned very quickly that no man could match up to their Master.

////

At Barely Legal, Thursday was Ladies Night. Because perverted women - whether they be gay, bi, or transfems - needed a safe space to explore their sexuality.

Ladies Night was also - as the neon signs around the bar declared - BYOT: Bring Your Own Toys.

Emma Perkins stood on the club floor dumbstruck and afraid. She had finally worked up the courage to come to this place, both to blow off some steam from the pressures of college and because she was pretty certain she wasn't straight... and yet she had no idea what to do with herself now that she was here! She was about as far away from a club-girl as anyone could be; she found the dull, pounding bass and flashing lights disorienting. She was pretty sure every other customer in the building was either high or drunk or both. And the staff... the staff! Every girl working the club was drop-dead gorgeous! The waitresses and the dancers and even the bartenders, which were curiously a group of curvaceous MILFs in matching black turtlenecks.

But where does a confused, sexually repressed girl begin? All around her, Emma saw other women enjoying the festivities with reckless abandon.

Gathered beneath one of the stages were members from her college's feminist society, all losing their minds as a pair of redheads danced sensually and provocatively with one another. And by "sensual" and "provocative", Emma meant they had their tongues in each others mouths and fingers in each others G-strings the entire time they danced around pole.

"Listen up, girls!" A women Emma recognized as the president of said feminist society, yelling loud enough nearly the entire club could hear her, slurring along the edge of her voice. "Feminism is about choice. Star and Megan here," she motioned drunkenly to the two strippers, "have chosen to be fine-ass sluts and hos for our entertainment. So, it is only right, we support them as sisters." A ragged cheer went up. "To quote Camile Paglia, 'these women are sexual conquerors, controlling the channel between nature and culture'... so let's it make it rain for my girls Starfire and Megan Morse!"

Another cheer erupted, along with a hail of greenbacks. Emma turned away, only more confused, not just from her own sexuality, but also philosophy as well.

Her eyes went skyward, to the booths lining the second floor balcony. In one of them, through the darkness of the club and the smoke and fog she was sure wasn't just from a smoke machine, Emma spotted a beautiful, muscular black woman lounging along the leather booth. Like, an actual ebony Amazonian goddess. And she looked right in her element, too, with a pair of Japanese women on her arms (Yukiko and Chie, were there names; Emma recognized them from that social media site), the two beauties kissing and licking the six-pack abs of the black woman.

For a moment, Emma thought she saw the muscular woman look down at her, flashing a smirk. Condescension, most likely. An alpha female looking down her nose at some pathetic, indecisive loser.

"God... why did I even come here?" Emma bemoaned her decision, feeling small and insignificant. "This was a bad idea..." She was about to leave the club in disgrace, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Emma turned to find herself face-to-face with a young, brown-skinned woman with big, bright soulful eyes. Also, her breasts were absolutely gigantic and her figure so curvy and waspish it bordered on parody. Emma jaw hung in disbelief; how, in this random club, in this shitty little city, were there such a collection of bombshells and beauties? The most beautiful women Emma had ever set her eyes on.

She ended up staring, slack-jawed, causing the other girl (no doubt an employee of the club) to back away, smiling nervously, hands held up in a gesture to suggest no harmful intent.

"Sorry, sorry," the girl apologized, "I just saw you standing by yourself, looking, well, so sad and confused, I thought you could need someone to talk to." She held out her hand to Emma. "My name's Kamala. I'm one of the girls here. Is it your first time?"

"Um, yes, yes it is." Emma said, shyly, reluctantly shaking Kamala's hand. "Thank you for your concern, but I was just leaving. And, I'm sorry for distracting you. You're uh... on the clock. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your bosses..."

Emma went to turn away again, but Kamala didn't take "no" for an answer. "I'm actually off-shift for the rest of this rotation." Both of Kamala's hands clasped onto one of Emma's, gently. "I don't mean to be pushy, but if you're feeling down, I'd be happy to talk." The stranger - who was a stripper and a whore, a part of Emma knew - gave her another friendly smile, eyes sparkling under the flashing lights, warm and inviting and sincere in their desire to help.

Emma was about to make another excuse, but Kamala interjected. "Seriously, it's no problem at all. Helping people is what I do." Then, Kamala paused and laughed at herself, motioning at the tight, sparkly cocktail dress she was in. "Well, that and the other thing." Another laugh. Kamala winked and Emma blushed, but she did relent.

The pair made their way to a table in as quiet a corner that could exist in the noisy, packed club. At first, Emma was **** to open up to a stranger, but Kamala's insistence and charm (and judicious amounts of ****) eventually led to Emma confessing her fears and concerns regarding her sexuality and her private life. And soon after it led to Emma giving in to her urges, desperately making out with Kamala, feeling up her huge, soft breasts. She knew it was just the **** and hormones making her do this, but Emma didn't care. Kamala was so pretty, and she was so horny...

Breaking away from Kamala after what must have been hours of snogging, Emma gasped for air desperately. She never felt so alive. "Oh my god, Kamala... I think I love you!" She blurted out. Immediately, she felt like a total twit, but Kamala just gave her another soft smile, placing her hand atop hers.

"Oh, that's very sweet of you to say, Emma, but..." Kamala paused, allowing Emma more precious time to stare into her beautiful eyes. "Well... you know what I am. I'm a slut! I'm a literal whore who fucks strangers for money!" Emma always thought words like "whore" and "slut" could only be derogatory in nature. Kamala said them with such pride. "Plus, I'm already in love with someone else. My heart belongs to them, fully devoted."

Emma wilted. Now she felt even crappier than before. Why couldn't things just go her way?

"But..." Kamala spoke and Emma flinched, daring to look at the brown-skinned beauty. "You can always come back here, whenever you want. I'll be working. You can buy me and we can always pretend. The fantasy is more than enough fun, isn't it?"

Emma knew that she was being strung along by, again, a literal whore. Asked to spend her hard earned money on her for the facsimile of a relationship. She knew this, and yet, she said, "Yeah. That does sound like a lot of fun."

////

Rob Daily leaned back, surveying the kingdom he had built.

It was glorious

Behind the doors of the club, the girls had their changing rooms to get gussied up before their shifts. They also had the green room, to relax and unwind between shifts and rotations. But, above the backstage area, nestled on the second floor of the club, Rob had his control room, where he could watch the fruits of his labour. Watch his girls show the world how truly beautiful they were. Watched the young women he idolized and lusted after descend into an infinite abyss of depravity and pleasure, being baptized and reborn as total sluts, one and all.

His life had taken a turn for the fantastic and fantastical since finding the genie, but this... this was easily the best moment of his life.

Best moment of his life, so far.

His chair - a recreation of his throne from school - faced a bank of monitors, all hooked up to hidden camera across the club floor, and all controlled so he could flick through them with the click of a button. Rob also made sure his little loft was well stocked with food and drink, along with having some of his MILF-slaves on-hand to attend him. Sure, he used them a hostesses and bartenders for the club, but he didn't need all six on the floor at once, meaning Rob was always taken care of while he played Howard Hughes. At the current moment, Helen and Morticia stood attentively behind him on standby, while Camila was on her knees before him, also facing the screen, letting Rob enjoy her soft, loving pussy and her plush, squishy body.

With one hand on Camila's back and the other on his control console, Rob fucked the beautiful Latina mama in an almost absent-minded manner, much more focused on the lewd scenes playing out before him. Still, Camila enjoyed the ride, all the same, moaning and shuddering as Rob's thighs slapped against her meaty backside. Whenever he had mothers attending to him, Rob always made sure to search out their daughters on the floor, put them up on the main screen, so they could see what had become of their daughters. Of course, after Rob's treatment, they were all too happy to watch their daughters suck and fuck all night long. Hell, their only regret was they couldn't join them on stage.

Rob found Violet first, the shy sweetheart drinking and chatting up with the gentlemen at their table, nothing lewd so far. Though, judging by the redness of Violet's face, and the way she was swaying in her seat, their little tryst wouldn't stay sweet and innocent for long.

Some poor schmuck (or lucky bastard, depending on viewpoint) was kissing and licking one of Wednesday's boots, the gothic girl looking quite smug and satisfied by it. Well, if anyone was going to indulge in some femdom, it was definitely Wednesday.

Like mother, like daughter, though, when Rob flicked over to find Luz, she too was being railed from behind. Pinned up against the wall with a man twice her age fucking her vigorously, holding onto her lovely, shapely hips for dear life. A line was starting to form behind the two, so it looked like Luz was in a for a very busy night.

"Mmm, she looks so beautiful doesn't she?" Camila mused, watching her daughter get fucked with a wide-eyed sense of wonderment. "So happy, too."

"You raised a beautiful daughter, Camila." Rob agreed, giving her a smack on her ample butt. Camila squealed happily. He could feel her canal squeeze down on his shaft.

"And you raised a wonderful ****, papi." On the screen, Luz about collapsed when the first man finished with her. But she was propped right back up into position by the next in line, who entered her with gusto, seemingly unbothered by taking someone else's sloppy seconds. "Hmm, oh dio! How I wish I could join her..."

"Sorry, Camila, dear, but that's not in the cards... yet..." Rob grunted in between thrusts. Camila whined and squealed some more, body tensing in anticipation of climax and, hopefully, plenty of her Master's seed. "Barely Legal is just for my students. But I have plans. Plenty of plans, plenty of clubs. And they'll be more general. I'll definitely let you and Luz share the stage together."

Camila whimpered, entire body shuddering, heavy breasts swaying back and forth. "R-really? I was just thinking aloud. Do you really think such... hmm...! Handsome, sexy men would pay good money for an old woman like me?".

Rob came inside the so-called "old woman", sending her to a screaming orgasm, shrieking and cursing in Spanish, as wave after wave of hot spunk surged deep inside her. For a moment, Rob's consciousness flickered, pulling him to a... something that was always in the corner of his mind. It was Zatanna's magic that allowed him to control when his slaves got pregnant. He likened it to a video game menu which he could access at anytime; just drag it out of the corner of his mind when he wanted it and push it back when he was finished. With his girls now fucking the public, he had it set so that no man but him could impregnate them, but the "menu" still flared up when he was having sex.

Looking at Camila's delicious and luxurious matronly body, Rob thought she was made for making babies. That she would look really good with a swelling bulge along her belly. It would be simple, just the most basic of thought, and her womb would quicken and his swimmers would find their way, and bam! Camila would be pregnant. Luz would have a baby sibling on the way, and the Nocedas would be even happier with their lord and master than they already were.

Rob was tempted, as he had been before, but he stayed his desire... for now. He still had a few more spells and enchantments to put in place on his slaves. But, soon. Soon. Soon he could delight in his perverse breeding fetish to his heart's content.

Groaning and leaning back, he made a motion for someone to replace Camila. Helen slipped in and began to suck on Rob's cock, as Rob turned his eyes back to the screen, flicking through his girls.

For now, he was just going to have to wallow in his perverse voyeuristic fetish. Because Barely Legal and Rob's empire of clubs and brothels was just starting. There was still plenty of fun to be had, here...

/////

Alright! Hold on to your hats, folks, next chapter we're going to do something a little different and something that's hopefully a lot of fun for you guys. Stay tuned and enjoy!