The Free Use Maid of the Twelve Dark Lords

A single flickering lantern overhead placed me in a spot-light, surrounded by darkness. Twelve silhouettes, and more pairs of eyes, were trained on me, each seated at a polished wood table that curved across half of the circular chamber. I’d come alone, as requested, in uniform.

My potential employers were silent.

I stood, chest out, my B-cup breasts straining against the fabric of a frilled low-cut blouse. My midriff was bare, my feet gleaming in a set of black heels.

The crotch of the chastity belt the maid service insisted I wear to this interview bit into my thighs, hidden beneath a pleated skirt that stopped halfway up them. White stockings and a floating collar with a bow completed the ensemble.

The half-lit shapes surrounding me put a flutter in my stomach. They were humanoid, but none hit the mark spot-on. Some too large, some too small, each with a variation of horns, extra appendages, wings, or tendril-like hair that moved unnaturally.

“W-would it please my masters if I introduce-?” I struggled out before being cut off, returning my eyes to the floor.

“You brought us here for this? She looks weak, untrained.” One of them spoke, I couldn’t pin which, a feminine voice with the harshness of a man’s and reverb that could shake mountains.

“My appraisal confirms it, not a single affinity above E+. I bag better at The Schlock-Grub regularly,” said another, this one sounded more like wind than words, “and look, she’s wearing a chastity belt.”

He wasn’t wrong. I’d only been in this world a few days, with no idea what I was doing. I had to beg the maid-service, the only class-hall that I had any relevant experience for, cooking and cleaning, to take me on. Based on my lack of any credentials, this was the best they would give me, an afternoon’s primer on a maid’s role and duties, a hand-me-down outfit, and a chance at the one opening every other available maid had either refused or been rejected from.

I knew I’d have to do something to stand out, and fast, before they dismissed me. They wanted sex, that much was apparent. I wasn’t opposed, in fact, being here, at the center of all these eyes, made my knees weak and my pussy clench, I was starting to gush.

The maid service had made it explicit, this could and would likely be part of my duties. The chastity belt was more of a precaution, in case I got cold feet. I hadn’t. I was stoked.

When I’d arrived, somehow sucked into the setting my best friend had created for a 19th birthday role-playing party game, I was frightened. But she was a gooner if there ever was one, and I knew that if I had one chance of survival, it was leaning into kink. I had to make a place for myself in this world, and if that meant being the maid, and free-use sub, of a bunch of monster-folk, even better.

My hands trembled, not from fear, but excitement, as I lifted my skirt, exposing my lap to this bizarre crowd, I placed a finger to the belt’s rune and uttered its command-word, “Regres.”

Hinges snapped open and the thing dropped to my feet in a clatter, my blushing wet pussy, auburn triangle at its crest, on full display.

I tip-toed out of the magic and steel contraption, and bent at the waist to pick it up, taking my time, before stepping forward to place it at the table’s apex, “A sample of my willingness, for your consideration.”

The man in front of me, I assumed he was in charge by his place at the table, had short black hair that gleamed, a cage-like helmet sat to his right. I couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t look down, I did, his gaze was too much.

“Hah! Now that’s how you make an impression!” A young-woman’s voice with a gremlin’s rasp echoed through the chamber, “Give her the test!”

“That test is how we ran off the last six, start her slow, we’ve got dishes to clean, beds to make, if this plan of Kaelach’s is ever going to take root,” that came from the smallest of them, two seats to the left.

What test? No one had mentioned a test. Did the maid service really think so little of me they’d send me in here without that info?

A murmur fell through them, behind me, rising like a tide.

“Let’s get on with it.” Kaelach said, his voice echoed when it shouldn’t have, like it’d bounced around in his chest a few times before escaping his lips. God how did he do that, it was like live ASMR, if I had a recording I’d finger myself to it nightly.

A juicy thunk interrupted my daydreaming. My eyes shot right, someone had slapped a cudgel onto the table. Are they going to beat me!?

I stared at it, wide-eyed. Thick as a wine-bottle, long as my arm, midnight-blue, veined, its head came to a crest, inching longer and longer with each heartbeat. It’s a cock, an impossible cock.

My hand shot to my mouth. I peeled my gaze from it, it grew from a silhouette that was definitively feminine, her humongous tits gave that away. She was on her knees and still easily twice my height. Three waterfalls of silver hair descended from a pair of smooth long horns on her forehead.

I’d always avoided futa stuff, because, yuck. But, yum.

How though? What the fuck was I supposed to do with that thing, as badly as my pussy wanted it, there was no way.

“H-how would my master like for me to serve,” I pleaded for direction.

“No-no! No hints!” The gremlin girl shouted.

“You give it your all,” that brutally powerful voice hammered into me from above, a whisper of reassurance that felt like a goddess's decree.

I crawled onto the table, pulling a small, tin flask of massage oil from my waist-band, flipped the stopper, and began drizzling it over the throbbing length, “Jasmine,” that voice narrated for the room, the sound of it slipped the flask from my hand, hitting the table with a dull thum.

“Hu-hu-hu…” I tried to center myself, placing my hands on the rough, hide-like skin of her still growing erection, veins as thick as my thumb pulsed beneath it. I began sliding my palms up and down the length, scooping the oil, trying not to miss a spot. I felt her throb as I slid a hand between her and the table, running it up and down to the waddle-like bit of flesh beneath her tip, I gave it a good squeeze.

I felt like I was barely making an impact, this thing wasn’t rigid, it was in the semi-hard state you had to really shlurp to get a man thrumming.

If I could just get her to fuck me, some part of me, get a grip on this thing somehow.

I could hug it, or, or give her a thigh-job…

I lifted the unwieldy thing, and swung a leg under it. It draped across me, hot, as I lowered onto my back, dragging it up onto my chest, and wrapped my other leg around. Her tip rested against my chin, the size of a volleyball, slick dimples along its length, “If it would please Master to fuck my thighs...”

She gave me a single short thrust that knocked my jaw and made my teeth clatter.

“You call that grip? I’ve plowed hill-giants that were tighter.”

“Sorry…master.” I squeezed my thighs as best I could manage and pulled down the ruffles of my blouse, exposing my tits, and squeezed them around the sides of her shaft. Then, turning my head to the side to avoid another uppercut, I said, “I’m ready now master, please try again.”

She reached down, long fingers with black, pointed claws that could cut through limbs, and slid them around my back, they clasped around my waist like iron bands, and she rolled me around her length until I was resting atop it, still in her clutch. Fuck me you blue-skinned queen.

She began to thrust slowly into my thighs, my skirt flipped, slick with oil, my clit rubbing along the length of her. Each bump, dimple and vein catching and sending hot waves through me.

“Mmmm-”

It was getting harder, longer, I nuzzled my head against her tip, its crest battering against my chin, and let myself taste her, my stuck out tongue rolling over it, jasmine oil, sweat and brimstone. “Mmm-yes, please Master, use me...make my body your ona-hole…mmm-nngh…" Her pelvic bone, a shelf I could ride like a park-swing, had just crashed into my pussy, "Ahh!"

It was bad, might even bruise, “Oh God!” Again!

My hands fell off my slippery tits and I wrapped my arms tight around her shaft, my auburn pigtails were drenched in oil, nuzzling her, dragging my nose back and forth across her mushroom-head. “Please Master!”

“This one’s broken in the best way, lets keep her!” The gremlin called.

“We’re not done.” That hollow echo, my heart wrenched.

“There’s no way Bura’s going to finish, that maid’s not a damn troll.” I couldn’t place the voice, I didn’t care, I had to make her cum.

She, Bura, huffed, and her hand wrenched my body forward, I wasn’t a maid, wasn’t a woman, I was a cloth to rub herself with, she polished her tip with me. I tried my best to get a grip on her, to help, but it was no use. Her cock **** across my chest, flung my tits wide, tilted my head until my shoulders ached.

Then came a pulse, a push, her tip pressing into me not by her hand's movement but by its own. She was close.

“Mmmm-Master please… please coat me…”

Bura’s hand shook, those spearlike nails pressing into my side. Oh my God if she loses control…

And then I was pulled up, off of her, into the air, her other hand grabbed my leg like a vice, she let go with the first, just for a moment, and I dangled in midair, before she regripped me with it, around my other leg, guiding me down, legs split, pussy down, pulled taut against her rigid rumbling shaft. She pulled back”Oh-oh God!” My clit!

Her cock receded between my legs, I felt every fucking inch, driving fireworks through my pussy, up my spine to shoot out my pigtails like a 4th of July finale!

“Nnngghh-ah-ah-haaah!”

My chest, limp, slumped over her tip, I was planting thankful kisses on the dew-coated split of her volley-ball. Gazing along the bottom of her length. She roiled, one of those thumb-nails working her cock-waddle.

“Hunh—” she groaned, her cock pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.

Then came the rush. Hot, thick, a flood of climax coating my face in waves. The taste hit first: sharp, spicy, almost electric. My breath caught, mouth flooded, head tipped back as more spilled past my cheeks and hair.

I gasped, blinking through the mess, lips trembling as I whispered, “Th-thank you…”

My body sagged against the table, everything still humming. Voices blurred behind the ringing in my ears, until one cut through, Bura’s, low and satisfied: “Good enough.”

If magic was real, and apparently it was, I was going to find a way to take that dick, all of it.

“So, she’s in right? This chick can obviously hang.” came the gremlin’s voice.

“She’s in.” there it was again, thigh-clenching echo ecstasy.

I ran a wrist over my eyes, this was madness, beautiful madness.

“Welcome to the team, slut!” A girl with one bulging, jaundice, slitted eye spreading across the top of her face said, floating above me, grinning with a mouth of shark’s teeth. Around her head, a nest of black hair that undulated into eye-topped stalks. How was she cute? She was cute.

“T-thank you Master.” I pushed up onto my elbows. The others were filing out of the room through a pair of pillars at its rear, Bura was already gone.

“You cut the Master shit with me. I’m Xar’Bor The Lustful, or Xar’Bor, Xar, or Bor,” One of her eyestalks pin-pointed on me, it was glowing a soft-blue, bathing me in a beam of light, my body lifted from the table with a wet shluck.

We glided through the pillars at a slow pace, never approaching the others. Another of her eye-beams, this one a wispy orange, brushed the floor behind us, disintegrating any stray drips in a puff of smoke. She licked her lips and muttered something about “Oni-Curry” in another language, her grin split ear to ear.

“We’ve got business to talk, now that you’re on payroll. I’m sort of minionly challenged at the moment, the others are busier, so you’ll be reporting to me.”

I doubted it was a coincidence I was floating exactly at up-skirt height for her black dress, highlighted by the soft glow coming from beneath lace panties.

“Of-of course, Ms. Xar’Bor The Lustful,” I turned my eyes to the wall, watching the pillars drift by.

“What are you doing,” she called back, “when one is gifted a glance at the seat of power, one glances.”

“Yes ma’am.” I glanced. I glanced long.

“Better,” she purred, “Now, your duties. Yeah we like to monster mash around here, but there is work to be done, there’s a plan, a grand master plan, and it needs a maid.”

What!? How in the world was I going to fill a role these practical demigods couldn’t easily tackle?

“Good question. Surface-side relations. We’re building a resort.”

She’s inside my head!

“I am, so yeah, hot-spring, tavern and kitchen, rooms that need to be turned down, the works. We need someone to manage it without tripping the occasional detect evil alarm, someone who reports to us. And you, Miss Monster-Harem Smut Connoisseur from an alternate reality, are that someone”