32

The festival is in full swing and the mood is exuberant. The men and women talk animatedly at their tables, and even Magda and Xerxes are seated with their guests and not on a raised platform. They probably don't want to project a position of power today, but rather want to make the nobles feel that they are one and need to stick together. Xerxes doesn't tell me much about the conflict with the baron. Actually nothing. Nevertheless, I have probably picked up more than I would have liked. The atmosphere is tense. The general incites more and more people against Xerxes. And even though I've never seen the general, a quick glance is enough to know who he is. His expression is hard. In contrast to the other guests, he seems tense and, above all, he keeps giving Xerxes hateful looks.

He keeps looking at me. Even with my back to him, I can almost feel him looking at me. This is also the reason why I always bend over a little too much when I take the order from a guest. I want him to see my bare bottom. The wetness of the fat between my legs. In fact, I enjoy teasing him a bit. The punishment for my behavior will come. But not now. Xerxes won't lead me out of the room in front of all the guests, and he won't touch me in here. Magda's presence alone makes sure of that. She keeps looking at me too. Or rather back and forth between me and Xerxes. Does she feel the dynamic between us? That it gets pushed further aside with every passing second? Probably.

"A beer," the man in front of me mumbles and I nod slightly. Instantly hiss a soft curse as the tips of the little iron rod dig into my skin again. That happens to me all the time. I just forget that even reflexive nodding is no longer possible for me. I almost think I can hear Platura's malicious laughter in my head. He is not to be found at a table like the other guests, but stands casually against the wall and watches me. Every step I take It's absolutely annoying. But since I don't want the guests to notice the tension between me and Platura, I give the man a smile.

"Of course, I'll bring you one in a minute." He doesn't even notice what I'm saying. Instead, his gaze slides down my body. Very lightly he runs his fingers up my thighs. The men are still reserved and touch me rather fleetingly. As if they didn't dare to start. It's more than obvious that I'm actually not a waitress. The real waitresses wear long dresses that reach their ankles. And the clothes are kept in a subtle tone. Not black like mine.

But I appreciate the restraint. That just means that I can gather my strength. Still. I do notice the subliminal vibration in the room. That the grips between my legs are becoming more and more researched. Like now. The man is no longer satisfied with touching me just once. He slides his thumb through my labia.

If I were a good prostitute, I would bend down to him now and whisper in his ear that he can use other services from me. Then I would let my lips brush his ear briefly and apologize for getting close without his consent. Yes, I know the correct behaviors. But I'm not a good prostitute anymore.

And so I only do what is necessary. Stay where you are for a moment and let him do it. It should probably be harder for me to be viewed here as an object for everyone to touch as they please, but that's not the case. I know this situation. It's more like a miracle that Magda is still holding back and not giving the order that I finally do my actual job. I can feel their eyes. How she looks at me disparagingly and I almost think I hear her resigned sigh.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" I would like to look directly at the man, but that turns out to be difficult. The small iron bar prevents that. I would have to lean forward to look directly at the man. And that leaning forward would only give him even better access to my shame. I have to give Platura one thing, he's damn smart. I'm beginning to understand why Zaret doesn't look down on Platura.

"Not yet," mumbles the man, withdrawing his hand. And even if he just seems polite, the impatience resonates clearly in what he says. It can't be long before the first one pursues his instincts. At the latest, when the alcohol starts to dull the senses, they will be rougher. But since I really shouldn't be worrying about that, I just turn away from him and head towards the kitchen. Straight towards Platura. Of course he has to stand where I walk. But instead of letting him get on my nerves any further, I glance at Xerxes.

He has his head resting on his hand and is nodding to a man sitting next to him. But despite the conversation, he catches my gaze. Looks at me in a fluid motion that, to anyone who stands by, looks like they're just taking a quick look around the room. But I know better. His gaze lingers on me a second too long. The green exudes too much greed. But Xerxes is good at showing interest in me without really paying attention to me. However, I also master these games. So I move my hips a little more than is necessary. The skirt swings around my pelvis and the slight puff of air on my skin is enough to show me that there's more to see than it should be.

A slight smile forms on Xerxes and I can almost see him mentally going over all the punishments he will inflict on me for this behavior. But right now that doesn't scare me. "Why in such a good mood?" Platura. But since he probably knows exactly what puts me in a good mood, I just give him a sweet grin. "It's a successful evening. I can be happy about that.” With a skilful movement I want to scurry past him and open the door of the kitchen. But Platura grabs my elbow and holds me back.

"You should offer yourself more." He doesn't even look at me, but looks around the room. As a result, Platura doesn't realize that I'm wrinkling my nose in disgust. "How about you take care of your task instead of staring at me all the time." I break away from Platura with a jerk and want to flee immediately. It's only one step and I would have disappeared through the kitchen door. But again, Platura doesn't just let me do my job. He stands in front of me and now I seem to have earned his attention. He raises an annoyed eyebrow as his eyes focus on me. "I'm taking care of a task I've been given." He looks me over, and without my doing my thoughts wander to Zaret. Platura also has this penetrating look that goes through my bones. "And that includes that I'll make you finally put your ass on a man's lap.” The last words are spoken in a whisper. Nevertheless, they leave Platura's mouth razor-sharp.

But I only have a smug grin left for it. "Well then, I wish you a lot of fun initiating this." My self-confidence doesn't come from anywhere. I doubt that Platura should take care of me. There are too many important guests here for that. Too much risk that something could happen or that someone would want to harm Xerxes.

"Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do my job.” I push past him in a flash and this time I even make it. The door swings open and I'm in the kitchen. Here, too, there is a lot of activity and nobody is watching me. A welcome change, so I take a deep breath before quickly grabbing a mugful of beer. I would like to stay longer in the shelter of the kitchen. However, it would do nothing. Only that Platura would hate me even more. So I sigh softly and just let the clattering of pots and pans affect me for a moment before I step back into the hall.

Just one step is enough for Platura to grab me again. One damn step where he grabs my elbows and pulls me towards him. I squeak in shock and only with difficulty can I prevent the mug from falling out of my hand. "Then let's see what I'm capable of," whispers Platura and dips his finger under the fabric of the décolleté. Pulls it down and at the same time pushes me a little forward. And me? I can only close my eyes in resignation. Of course, Platura knows how to get men to forget decency. Through my cry, many see us. Recognize my bare chest and, above all, they see how Platura's thumb brushes over my nipple. This literally forces it to stand up under the touch.

"Let go of me," I hiss and make a tired attempt to free myself from the grip. Of course it doesn't work. As well as? I still have the full mug in my hand and I'm more careful that some of the beer doesn't end up on the floor.

Platura laughs softly and twirls my nipple. Not great. It's more of a sweet pain that makes me gasp. "I wouldn't even dream of it," he whispers to me before we arrive at the table and our attention is drawn to the guests.

"I wanted to make sure that everything is to your satisfaction." Platura's fingers are still around my nipple and he pulls on them lightly. It is a simple principle that Platura applies. It shows a bit more of me and most importantly, Platura is still seen as inferior by the guests. The fact that he would lay hands on me so easily could provoke two reactions. The nobles shake their heads at his rude behavior or are outraged that he dares to touch the prostitute who has been booked for them. And something tells me the second will come.

"It's all good," someone replies, and even though I can't check who it is, the condescension is evident in the voice. The guests are clearly not happy that Platura is even at this table. However, since this conversation is none of my business, I put the mug on the table and push it towards the man who ordered it.

"I'm glad." There's Platura's attempt to sound like the nobles again. A light melody resonates in what is said, which resembles Xerxe's pronunciation. But he can't fool me. The words are slurred. Not as clear as is the case with Xerxes.

Platura pulls a little more on my nipple and I press my lips together so I don't whimper. But I don't care about the pain. Platura is offering me right now. Just like a pimp his prostitute. He subtly lifts my skirt and even if it's only an inch, it must be enough for everyone to see my labia. And now the fat is not beneficial to me. It probably looks like I'm aroused.

And Platura's offering of my body seems to be working. The first man touches my privates more roughly. I automatically want to back away a little, but Platura is still behind me. Forcing me to stay put. And just to fix my position a little more, he puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Keep calm and smile." There is absolute satisfaction in his voice and even if I really want to do everything, just not comply with his request, I try to express myself in a friendly way. I can't seem angry at all. The others at the table look at us. And just to make my plan even harder, the man sticks his finger inside me. Elicits a throaty moan that even I can't tell if it was pleasure or surprise.

"Xerxes will kick you," I whisper to Platura as the man slides his finger inside me again. Platura chuckles and leans in until his lips hover over my ear. "He gave me the order that you should finally do your actual job." Platura whispers the words bittersweetly to me and I automatically shake my head. No, Xerxes wouldn't do that. Why would he want other men to use me? But despite my inner reasoning, I look to Xerxes. He's still deep in conversation, but the barely audible grin speaks volumes. Platura does not lie. And that just makes me close my eyes in resignation. So much for Xerxes not being able to punish me here.