Who Assistant-Manages the Assistant Managers?

"Is t-that all you've got?" Tora grinned down at Bruno, her hips gyrating as her fingers tightened on his beefy shoulders. "Big man, with that big unf, b-big dick, pinned down by a little girl?"

The fact that the bouncer, still stupefied by this recent turn in events, managed anything more than dazed grunts of pleasure was a minor miracle. "Guh?" He groaned as Tora slammed herself down onto his pelvis, her shuddering pussy swallowing his girthy cock all the way to the hilt. "No, uh, ma'am?"

"Aww, that's cute." Tora leaned down, her breasts squishing against Bruno's chest as she teasingly pinched his cheek. "Why call me that? Are you a lil' baby or something?"

"N-no?"

"Hmm, I don't know..." Her grin curled catlike at the corners as she continued to fiddle with Bruno's face, her eyes smoldering as the bouncer's brow started to furrow. "Are you a big baby, then?" Bruno gasped as she raised her hips just high enough to slide off of him, his throbbing shaft left unattended as she began to grind against his abdomen. "Or maybe you just don't know what you're doing?"

"I fuck lots!' Bruno gritted his teeth, desperately trying to find the angle that would allow him to thrust back into the paradise between Tora's legs. "Lots and lots!"

"Uh-huh, sure~," Tora snickered, waggling her hips counter to Bruno's to keep his dick a hair's breadth away from the promised land. "Your hand doesn't count, Bruno."

The bouncer was growling now, his massive and impatient balls already planning a coup d'etat against his brain. "Girls! Lots!"

Tora gave a little pff, flicking Bruno's nose just hard enough to smart. "Do I look like a 'girl'? I'm a goddamn woman, and you clearly can't give meeeee~!"

The woman's taunts became a shriek as Bruno flipped her over, one giant hand roughly pinning her to the bed. "I'll fuckin' show you!" He shakily lined up his oversized manhood, oblivious to the furrows Tora's nails were digging into his chest as he pushed his cockhead between her sweltering lips and drove himself all the way to the balls in a single aggressive thrust.

Tora's cackle of delight melted into a warbling groan as Bruno began violently humping into her, her long legs hooking around his back to urge him on faster and harder. This was what she wanted, what she fucking needed. To be controlled like this, trapped under the superior strength and size of someone else? In a life like hers, such thrills could only be enjoyed inside a locked bedroom. Anywhere else, and they'd certainly be fatal.

She cooed in excitement when Bruno curled a hand around her neck, tongue lolling out as she shuddered in orgasm. Then he started to squeeze a bit too tight, and her eyes immediately went hard and flat. "Easy." Bruno wasn't listening, apparently too cunt-drunk for such niceties. He stopped in a hurry when Tora jammed her thumb just hard enough into his throat to be a warning, however. "You found the line. Congratulations. Don't cross it again."

Bruno gulped, nodding more with his eyes than his head thanks to the pressure against his windpipe. "Um, sorry."

"Good." Tora gave him an affectionate pat on the cheek, then spun her hips in a blitz attack against any potential cock-shrinking. It proved more than enough to get Bruno back in the game, the bouncer returning to the now-established bounds as he resumed pistoning into her. Indulging in this type of dominance play was certainly a lot more manageable when the bottom was fully capable of incinerating any overly insistent tops.

Not that she was interested in going through that again. Ash everywhere. Gross.

Still, this guy was willing to play by the rules, so Tora wasn't going to blow her stack because of a few toes out of bounds. Actually, scratch that; in a sense she definitely was. She squealed out in another orgasm as Bruno's pleasured rumbles erupted into a bellow of release, his considerable bulk crushing down against her as she fought for breath and he exploded inside her. The bouncer shuddered uncontrollable, his shaking hips continuing to thrust in mindless delight even as he filled the condom inside Tora full enough to create a visible bulge in her taut midsection. He groaned as he managed to spurt out one last load, then slumped down to Tora's side as he panted for breath.

"Ha~, good work." Tora reached down, carefully pulling the condom off of Bruno's spent dick. She gave it a sharp tug, popping the fist-sized cum reservoir out of her still-quivering pussy with an impressed hum. "Nice. Size Empress makes a damn good product." She impishly spun the stuffed prophylactic in the air, then popped the opening into her mouth and sucked the whole load down in a single gulp. "Mm~, yummy." She carelessly tossed the emptied condom towards the trash, then bent down to pluck another one out of her bag. "Ready for round two?"

Bruno needed a moment before he'd caught his breath enough for a response. "Gimme, g-gimme a bit..."

"Haha, nah~" Tora pushed insistently at Bruno's side, the bouncer groaning in protest but still allowing himself to be rolled onto his back. The woman slipped between his legs, wrapping one overmatched hand around his aching manhood. "A client taught me this one. Artificiate call girl; great package plan." She paused long enough to drag her tongue all the way up Bruno's shaft. "Said she created it by aggregating an exabyte's worth of porn footage." Bruno almost choked as his complaining groans transformed into a grunt of inhuman pleasure deep within his throat, Tora's free hand setting to work between his legs. The bouncer had no fucking idea what she was doing, exactly, but whatever it was his balls and dick and prostate were all being treated to the time of their lives. "Pretty great, right?"

"U-uh..." Bruno blinked down in disbelief at his own penis, just moments ago flopped over his thigh in an orgasm-induced coma but now brought back to furious, volcanic readiness. "Yeah, totally."

"Good! Now then~" Tora flounced down belly-first onto the bed, waggling her pert rear at the increasingly rejuvenated bouncer. "Why don't you show me again what a big strong man you are?"

The man didn't need any further encouragement, and a moment later he had one hand pushing Tora down into the bed as he furiously pounded away at her delighted ass. The woman allowed herself a smug chuckle, even as her eyes rolled back into her head and she started to drool onto the sheets. Oh yes. This was definitely better than a ride on her bike.

Bittercup shifted awkwardly in her seat, unable to offer her fellow dancers more than a helpless shrug as the muffled sounds of grunts and slapping flesh from within the manager's office started up again. For, like, the fourth time. When Tora had asked her to gather up whichever employees hadn't fully run for the hills while she took care of some business with Bruno, Bittercup had no idea either of them would have so much fucking stamina. She'd have dragged her feet a bit more if she'd had clue one about exactly how epic of a post-fight fuck this was going to be. Live and learn.

Still, it's not like this was the first time any of the workers of the Hoi Polloi had to listen to their boss loudly screw. Probably wouldn't be the last time either. Regardless, it was certainly cause for relief when the door finally swung open to reveal the hulking form of Bruno, his clothes in a wadded-up clump that he clutched to his groin to defend his purity from a dozen prying eyes. Tora squeezed out from behind the sheepish bouncer. "Oh good, you're all here." She slipped a stick of gum into her mouth, Bruno squeaking in surprise when she gave the man a little smack on the ass. "Grab a seat; this won't take long."

Fuck, Bruno was red as a goddamn beet. Bittercup had seen a lot, too much in fact, in her few years? But the sight of the man she once witnessed put his fist completely through an eight-foot-tall android looking as embarrassed as a schoolgirl after her first handjob was way beyond the pale. He quickly joined the crowd, too eager to follow Tora's suggestion to even pause long enough to put on his damn pants. Fuck. Bittercup had been under so many bosses in so many dumps, all with their own delusions and tyrannical fantasies, but this? This was real fucking power. She hadn't known Tora very long, but she was certain she'd seen enough for two solid conclusions.

First, this person was dangerous.

And second, she was absolutely the cart Bittercup had been waiting all her life to hitch herself to.

Tora didn't keep the nervous dancers and back-of-house workers waiting for much longer, pausing only long enough to retrieve her shirt and begin buttoning it back up. "Okay, here's the short version: your boss owed my boss a lot of money. He decided not to pay it. That was a bad choice."

No one said a word, but more than a few eyes darted towards the closet that currently held the tightly-bound Tank. One big advantage of restraining someone within a place like this? Lots of ways to bind someone up.

Tora continued. "So, after some rigorous negotiations, the Hoi Polloi and all of its holdings now belong to the Hoken Dantai. As currently personified by me. Hello." The crowd of dancers mumbled back greetings, clearly well-used to sudden and violent changes in management. "That's all handled, so let's hash out the stuff that actually matters to you. First thing's first, anyone who wants to walk should feel free. That's an open offer, so whenever this club stops seeming like a good idea? Go ahead and bail." She paused, blowing a languid bubble as she eyed the crowd of dancers. When no one got up to leave, she continued on. "Okay. I can only assume Mr Deedless was taking some sort of rake?"

The dancers began to shift uneasily in their seats. Here it was. Time to find out how much worse the new gouge in their take-home pay was going to be. The girls clearly expected Bittercup to take the lead here, so she hesitantly spoke up. "Uh, yeah. Half of stage tips, half of every lap dance. Seventy-five on fucks." When Tora simply popped a bubble in response, the nayaling quickly added onto her inventory. "Also fifty bucks for floor space."

The hugely stacked wukong piped up. "Hundred for the stage."

Tora clicked her tongue. "You don't mean every night?" When the crowd of dancers nodded, Tora let out an annoyed huff. "That stupid piece of shit. Clearly never understood the business he was in." She threw on her jacket, popping another annoyed bubble before continuing on. "Okay look, Tank was a fucking idiot. Understatement of the century, I'm sure. Here's the new arrangement: anything you earn within these walls is yours. Period."

Suffice it to say, that wasn't exactly what the dancers had been expecting to hear. They might have stayed paralyzed by shock forever if the busty monkey girl hadn't spoken up again. "You're saying when I take all this--," she wobbled her immense breasts, stuffed to overflowing with the fake in-house bills customers bought to use as tips, "To cash out tonight...?"

"Keep it. All of it. You're contractors, not employees. And the Hoi Polloi isn't your pimp." Tora squinted at the wukong's decolletage, leaning in to pluck a bill out of her cavernous cleavage. She grimaced at Tank's ugly mug leering out from the paper, tossing it back to the dancer with a grunt. "Gotta redesign those things quick."

Another girl raised her hand. "What about the rental fee?"

Tora raised a finger. "One-time fee, not nightly. And as far as I'm concerned, all of you have already paid it. Look, here's the deal: if you girls are in here every night, working as hard as you can for yourselves? That's good for business."

One of the girls furrowed her brow. "But you said you weren't taking any of the money?"

"The Hoi Polloi is not in the titty and pussy business. The Hoi Polloi is in the booze business. The happier you are, the happier the patrons are, and the more drinks they buy. Which takes us to support staff." Tora pointed a finger at the street elf bartender. "You are a club employee, so we'll work out your details separately. But expect the product to be a lot better and a lot cheaper soon; I've got a whole Atlus stuffed to the rafters with premium Czarina shit under heavy guard just outside the megacity."

The bartender perked up at that. "Seriously?"

Tora nodded. "Seriously." She rolled her finger in a little circle, indicating the other back of house staff. "We'll work things out with you guys, too. Now, as for security...hmm." The woman chewed her gum thoughtfully, eyeing the still-nude Bruno. "I mean, you guys did just let some stranger waltz in and basically decimate your boss. Not exactly a ringing endorsement. The muscle bringing in our first booze shipment are all card holders; they'll be taking over security." When the big bouncer's shoulders fell, Tora chuckled. "Don't worry; we'll find something for you, somewhere."

"Here's the most important thing, though." She turned back to face the gathered group proper, her voice suddenly very serious. "While you are working here, you're all under Hoken Dantai policy. That means you cannot be fucked with. If anyone fucks with you? You find me," She pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the riot of tattoos underneath, "Or someone who looks like me. Cut through all the shit, and my organization has one purpose: to insure you and any other policyholder is able to live their own goddamn life. Anyone fucks around with that, they find out quick. Got it?"

The assembled crowd nodded, buzzing with whispers as the girls did their best to make sense of this sudden windfall. Bittercup could see the dollar signs in their eyes, could see the promise of protection selling them on the whole deal. But she wanted more, and she knew this was the moment to speak up. "What about management?" When Tora cocked an eyebrow at the nayaling, she quickly turned on all the charm she could muster. "I mean, an important woman like you can't be in here every night, can she? I bet you've got all sorts of important business all over the megacity, don't you?"

Bittercup tried to tamp down the furious hope swelling in her chest as a slight smile played at the corner of Tora's lips. "True. I'm definitely going to need someone running the day-to-day. Not quite an owner-operator, but close enough in practice." The stripper had started to swoon at the mere mention of the term 'owner-operator', but not so much that she missed Tora's next words. "Who's been working here the longest?"

The hope within Bittercup's chest briefly quailed, then resurged. That was her, wasn't it? The club had a hideous turnover rate, and she'd been here for nearly a year. No one else even came close, the job was definitely--"Um, I've been here for six years, I think?"

Fucking what. Bittercup stared wild-eyed at Petty, the android dancer shrugging apologetically. The nayaling heard her own voice echoing in her ears, her body breaking free from her screaming brain to speak. "Didn't you start dancing here like six months ago?"

"Oh, sure! But I was here waaay~ before I started stripping. I was the novelty ATM, remember?" She struck a pose, cupping her breasts and stiffening her mouth into a slot. "Remember?"

Fucking what.

Petty continued on, unabated. "Yeah, I blew through my intelligence limiters around half a year ago; started dancing the next night. I'm still getting stuffed with money, more or less, so it was a pretty easy transition. Does that count?"

Bittercup swallowed her ****-shriek as Tora nodded. "Sure it does. You want the job?"

For a brief, cruel moment, the nayaling thought Petty was going to refuse. "Well, I don't really know anything about club management..." The android retrieved a small cyberdeck from her duffle bag, quickly punching in something before extending a cord from the side and jacking it into her own head. "Now I know everything about club management!"

Tora broke into applause, the other girls following suit with loud cheers and whistles as Petty rose to take a triumphant bow. Bittercup could only clap along, glad that at the very least the sudden burst of noise served to keep attention away from her suddenly wet eyes and her self-pitying sniffle. Just...fucking get over it, girl. This is as good as it's gonna get for you. Bittercup always dreamed of a better life, and she couldn't deny that her position today was ten times better than her position yesterday. She just...hadn't considered that she'd run out of track on her ambitions quite so soon. Or that this was where it would be.

Fuck. She might have been happier yesterday.

The girls must have been dismissed, because as Bittercup began to stir from her funk, they were happily chatting as they milled out of the club. Alright, well...whatever. Just fucking whatever. She quickly ran the back of her hand across her damp eyes, shouldering her kit bag and turning to leave. But then Tora's voice called out to her. "Are you mad that I didn't make you manager?"

Bittercup stiffened, then shook her head, not daring to turn around and show the dangerous woman her expression. "No. 'S not any of my business, anyway."

"Turn around."

The nayaling sniffed, then slowly complied, eyes red as she tried to mask her crestfallen face with a mask of disinterested dignity. She might not have much, but at least she had a little bit of pride. "What?" She stood there, awkward, as Tora simply stared at her for a long moment, chewing away at her gum. "What?"

Tora raised an eyebrow. "Why would I make you the manager of a place like this?"

"........." Okay, she was definitely happier yesterday. Because for the first time ever, Bittercup had met a boss who had something close to a clue? And that boss had just straight up told her that she didn't have what it took. She'd finally found the cart she wanted to hitch herself to, only to discover to her dismay the thing ran on an overclocked engine and didn't need her fucking horse feet. "...dunno."

"That would just be a colossal waste, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, um, I--" The girl had already turned to leave when the gangster's words sunk in. "Huh? A waste?"

"No question." Tora made her way over to Bittercup. "You said it yourself, didn't you? My business is going to take me all over the megacity, and I'm going to need someone by my side for that." She reached out, gently wiping away the corner of the girl's eye with her thumb. "Someone who knows the lay of the land. Someone smart. Someone fucking capable. That's you. Absolutely."

Bittercup sniffed again, that dreadful hope running roughshod up and down her entire body. "I, I used to dream--"

"What, of running a place like this? Being the stand-in boss for some other boss? No offense, but that's a shit dream. Not your fault; life under a corp is enough of a head fuck to make anyone think that a special hat and schedule-assigning responsibilities in a goddamn no-man's land would be a paradise." Tora took a step back, extending her hand towards Bittercup. "Come with me. Take my hand. I can't fulfill your dreams of paradise. But I can show you how to be a Queen in Hell."

The stripper sniffed one final time. "Will you show me how to throw fireballs at people who talk shit?"

"Absolutely."

Bittercup grabbed Tora's hand and squeezed as hard as she could. "Fucking sold."