"Please sit, Teddy," Damian said. "Our daemon Mistress will be calling in the candidates one by one to join us for dinner."
I sat down, suddenly aware of how underdressed I was. I was in a bathrobe! A very comfortable, rich looking bathrobe, but it wasn't something I thought I'd be meeting my potential future Sugar Babies with!
"Can I change first?" I asked.
"There's no need," answered Damian's sister Seraphina. "We don't have a dress code."
The fireplace crackled behind the Board, casting warm flickers across their faces. Seraphina toyed with the silver chain between her pierced nipples.
Lord Harlan Thorne simply nodded once. "The time to put on airs for you is still quite a ways ahead!"
"No, don't you remember, Lord Harlan?" Vesperine asked. "Mistress Mercer has him on the fast track to become the next Sugar Patriarch!"
Many of them laughed. The guy under the hood, Kael, and the woman with the ruby in her throat—I never did get her name—did not. Surprisingly, Elaine did. Lightly, not with the full cheeriness I've seen from her before, but she rolled well with the punches.
I sat down, and after looking both to my left and my right, admiring how truly massive this "Great Hall" (my personal name for it) was. Both sides ended in shadows.
"The daemon Mistress is ready," Elaine said with a professionalism she usually didn't have when she talked about Princess.
Princess's voice sounded out from above.
"Introducing Mistress La Valette..."
I wasn't sure where she would be coming in from until I noticed movement around one of the areas where the staff were congregated.
A black-and-white frilly maid dress hugged the hourglass figure of the olive-skinned maid who was approaching me with a silver dish. Her skirt was scandalously short, her dark hair pinned up in a perfect French bun. She curved her red lips in a smile as her eyes locked onto mine.
She stopped a few paces away, curtsied low enough that the deep neckline of her dress threatened to spill everything. "Monsieur MacBride," she purred. "I am Catherine La Valette. Your perfect servant. I live to clean... polish... and satisfy every filthy little desire you might have."
My throat went dry and my cock twitched when she said the word polish with a genuine French accent. I could already imagine her on her knees, feather duster in one hand, my shaft in the other.
The Board murmured approval.
She placed the silver tray in front of me before sitting down in the chair to my right. The tray contained a meat of some kind, but it was so fancy that I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. The label on the front, however, said this was a Confit de Canard, which I believe meant something to do with ducks.
From out of her cleavage, and I'm not sure how this was possible, she pulled out a bottle of red wine, and then a glass, two glasses, and prepared them in front of us.
"I wanted to give you a taste of what you have to look forward to," she said.
I looked over to Elaine, who was nodding with an impressed look on her face. Not bad, she mouthed.
"Thank you, Catherine," I said. I took her hand and kissed it. She blushed deeply.
Catherine turned to the Board.
"I can show him my domain?"
Her domain? Right now!?
They nodded. She smiled.
She disappeared under the table, and I could suddenly feel warm skin separating the robe. A hand began to rev me up before a mouth began sucking at the tip, licking the underside of my cock. I closed my eyes to focus more on the pleasure, and when I opened them again, the sucking had stopped, and I was sitting at an elegant restaurant, wearing a fancy suit that looked like it came from Italy or something. There were a candle and bottle of wine in between me and the chair in front of me, but there was nobody sitting there.
Catherine stood beside my table, notepad poised, pen tapping playfully against her full red lips. The restaurant uniform was crisp black with white accents. The short-sleeved blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show the swell of her breasts. Below her waist she wore a short pencil skirt and high heels.
"Bonsoir, Monsieur MacBride," she said, voice low and smoky. "Tonight, I will be your server."
I swallowed. The restaurant around us was empty except for us. Soft jazz played on the speakers. The air smelled of expensive wine, roasted herbs, and her dark vanilla perfume.
"First course," she murmured, sliding into the chair opposite me. Her skirt rode up just enough to show the lace tops of thigh-high stockings.
Her foot, bare now, slid up my calf under the table, slowly and deliberately. She watched my face the entire time, eyes glittering.
"You like to be served, Teddy? Or do you prefer to give orders?"
My cock was straining against the expensive trousers I'd somehow been placed in. Instead of the robe I was wearing a charcoal suit.
"I think I like both," I said.
She stood, circled the table, and knelt between my legs without a word. Her hands slid up my thighs. When she reached the zipper, she looked up at me through dark lashes.
"May I, Master?"
"Yes," I said.
She unzipped me slowly, reverently, like she was unwrapping a gift she'd waited years for. My cock sprang free thick and heavy and already leaking. She made a soft, appreciative sound in the back of her throat.
"Mon dieu," she breathed. "Such a beautiful cock. So thick. So messy already."
She didn't rush.
First came the kisses. Soft, open-mouthed kisses from the base to shaft. She used her tongue for slow, wet circles around my head, licking up my pre-cum. She hummed in pleasure, the vibration traveling straight to my balls.
I gripped the edge of the table. "Catherine..."
"Shhh," she soothed, looking up at me with storm-gray eyes. "Let me take care of you. That's what I'm here for."
She took me into her mouth. It was slow and deep, but no gagging and no hesitation. Her tongue worked the underside while her cheeks hollowed while she sucked. One hand stroked what her mouth couldn't reach; the other cupped my balls.
The restaurant faded. There was only her mouth, her hands, and the wet sounds they made on my body. She moaned around me like she was the one being pleasured, hips shifting as if she couldn't help grinding against nothing.
I threaded my fingers into her French bun, loosening it until dark waves spilled over my thighs.
"Fuck," I hissed.
She pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny. "Pardon your French, Master," she teased. "Though, I do love when you swear because of me."
She dove back down, faster now, head bobbing and taking me to the back of her throat on every stroke. Her hand slipped between her own legs under the skirt. I could hear how wet she was.
I was close. Too close.
"Catherine—I'm—"
She pulled off again, just in time, hand pumping me fast and slick. "Not yet," she said. "I want to taste you when you give the order. When you are satisfied."
Her eyes locked onto mine.
"Tell me what you want, Master."
I stood, chair scraping back. I grabbed her by the hair, gently but firmly, and guided her mouth back onto my thick, girthy cock. She moaned in delight, hands gripping my thighs as I fucked her face with shallow, controlled thrusts.
Her eyes watered, mascara smudging, but she never looked away. Never stopped sucking. Never stopped wanting.
"Good girl," I said. "Such a perfect fucking maid."
She whimpered around my cock, thighs squeezing together. Her fingers worked faster between her legs.
I was done holding back.
"Swallow every drop," I ordered.
Her answering moan vibrated straight through me.
I came hard with thick ropes down her throat. She took it all, gulping greedily. When I finally pulled out, a thin string of cum and saliva connected her lips to my tip.
She licked it clean with a satisfied hum.
Then she rose, wiped the corner of her mouth with one manicured finger, and licked that clean too.
"Delicious," she whispered.
The restaurant shimmered. We were back under the table in the Great Hall.
The Board stared.
Seraphina's chain was twisted between her fingers. Damian's perfect smile had slipped into something hungrier. Even Elaine looked impressed.
Catherine stood, smoothed her maid dress, and curtsied again perfectly as if nothing had happened.
"Check her status," said an unfamiliar voice. The woman with the ruby in her throat.
She was talking to the Board. To everyone.
For a few moments there was the brief silence of everyone reading something at the same time.
=================
Subject: V-15725
Name: Catherine La Valette
Age: 19
Mana Type: Spice
Sugar Level: 2,000^
Spice Level: 50
Sugar Daddy: None
Known Abilities: Pocket Holes
=================
I knew enough by now to know that that was an incredibly high Sugar level. Matterhorn's was considered high at 100.
"What was her level before our, uh... session?" I asked.
Catherine was staring at me wide-eyed in astonishment.
"Monsieur, I... I did not have a Sugar level."
I quickly checked my status again.
=================
Subject: R-01917
Name: Theodore MacBride
Age: 19
Condition: Sugar Well
Sugar Level: 3,000^
Sugar Babies: None
Known Abilities: Sugar Rush, GSP
=================
I had transferred over 2,000 units of Sugar. It was not something that happened with Bridgid or any of the other women I've been with already, but maybe it had something to do with her being a Sugar Baby. And I knew it wouldn't build back up yet because of the tongue piercing Elaine gave me.
I hoped I didn't run out of Sugar before I met all the rest of the potential Sugar Baby candidates, but at least I had one satisfied customer.