go back and flirt with the original tipper, asking him if he likes your tight little ass

https://imgur.com/a/LcV3JQA

As the music transitions to a new track with a heavier bass line, you step down from the platform, bills tucked into your waistband. The fog in your mind is thickening by the minute—simple thoughts taking effort, complex ones impossible. You scan the crowd, spotting the salt-and-pepper businessman who gave you the first twenty. He's standing at the bar with two colleagues, expensive watches glinting under the strobing lights.

Swaying your hips with exaggerated movements that make your tiny skirt bounce, you approach him from behind. Your enhanced backside feels different—fuller, rounder, more present in your awareness.

"Remember me?" you purr into his ear, pressing yourself against his back. The businessman turns, surprise melting into appreciation as he recognizes you.

"Well hello there, dancing queen," he says, his gaze dropping to your cleavage. "Finished your shift already?"

"Just taking a little break," you giggle, twirling around to show off your outfit—and more importantly, your newly enhanced ass. You bend slightly at the waist, looking over your shoulder at him. "Do you like my tight little ass?"

His eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting such direct language. His friends chuckle, exchanging glances.

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" The businessman—Gregory, according to the ID badge partially visible inside his jacket—places his hand on your hip, thumb brushing the bare skin between your top and skirt. "And yes, it's quite spectacular."

"I knew it!" you beam, every fiber of your being lighting up at the validation. "I just got it, like, totally upgraded!"

Gregory's hand slides lower, cupping one cheek with surprising boldness. "Upgraded?"

"Mmhmm!" You push back slightly into his touch, your foggy mind **** for any kind of stimulation that might help clear it. "It's, like, a whole inch bigger than before!"

"Is that so?" His voice drops lower as he leans in. "Perhaps we should find somewhere to... verify those measurements."

Before you can respond, you feel another presence beside you. David slides an arm around your waist, pressing a possessive kiss to your neck.

"Making friends already, Riley?" he asks, his tone light but his grip firm. "Jamie's been looking for you. Your break ended five minutes ago."

Gregory immediately withdraws his hand, nodding respectfully to David. "Didn't realize she was spoken for."

"She works for the club," David says smoothly. "But yes, she's with me."

The businessman offers a card to you with a practiced motion. "When you're not working, then. My firm's always looking for promotional models."

You take the card, reading 'Gregory Pearson, Executive Director' through increasingly blurry vision. Your thoughts scatter like marbles on glass as the Plugged-in Princess kink continues degrading your cognitive abilities.

"Come on," David murmurs, guiding you back toward the platforms. "Jamie says if you're good tonight, there might be a special VIP task later. Much more Babe Bucks than regular bartending."

"But I can't think," you whimper quietly, your legs wobbling slightly. "I need... I need..."

"I know exactly what you need," David replies, his voice knowing. He discreetly passes something into your hand—a small, tapered silicone object. "Ladies' room. Second stall has lotion in the dispenser. Be quick about it."

21:30 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Pulse Nightclub, Putney, London

[Barmaid Job] | [Active] | [03:00] | [5.5 hours remaining]