Carlos thought about leaving his new apartment a few times, but every time he went to put clothes on something distracted him, a show on TV, deciding to eat something, or even just exploring his new body. It almost felt as if he was being kept in his apartment until his shift. His mind just kept making up reasons to stay put, and stay naked. Finally an hour before he was supposed to be at his job he finally made it over to his closet.
Charlie had always been one for nice, expensive clothes with designer labels. He had the money. But Carlos' wardrobe was what one might expect, lots of tees and jeans, some club wear which were mesh shirts and tight shorts, a leather harness that made his inner Charlie cringe just to see, even if it made Carlos' cock hard just touching it, and one cheap suit. He tossed on a black tank top and a pair of cargo shorts before grabbing his phone and wallet to head out the door. His feet seemed to know the way to his new job, even if he didn't, a few blocks down the street he came to a nightclub with blacked out windows and a sign calling it 'The Naughty Imp' with the image of a sexy red devil hanging on the end that made Carlos think much to much of Astarael.
As if just thinking about the demon he heard that deep voice in his head. "Only you can hear me. You're going to learn your new job today, both of them. I've managed to set up something special to teach you what I want of you. The owner here is another one of mine, listen to him as you would me. Understood?"
Carlos thought back to the voice. "Yes, sir." He didn't know if thought alone would work, but it seemed to satisfy the voice as he didn't ask again.
Stepping through the front door he suddenly found a large hand pressed against his chest. His eyes traced the hand to the heavy, ebony skinned arm and up to a wall of muscle shoved into a too tight black tee and a pair of jeans, the tee stretched the word 'SECURITY' across a pair of massive pectorals. "Sorry, we're closed. Come back in a couple of hours."
Carlos wanted to back away, but his mouth seemed to move of it's own accord, just like his feet that brought him here. "I'm Carlos, I'm supposed to be starting today." The meaty bouncer picked up a clipboard just as another baritone voice called from somewhere in the bar.
"It's alright, Joe! I'm expecting him." Another man came bustling up, looking like another bouncer the way he filled out his shirt, but this was a black polo rather than a tee-shirt, and the man had a bit of gray in his black hair. He also had the demon's mark on his forehead, at least only Carlos would be seeing that. This must be his new boss.
"Sure thing, boss." Joe dropped his hand and went back to his stool, jerking his head in the direction of the man as if Carlos should get his ass moving. As he stepped deeper into the club and towards the boss, he was relieved to see not everyone here looked like a body builder like those two. There were a few more guys about, but all were fairly fit and attractive ranging from lean runner builds to gym rats.
"You can call me Boss, everyone does." The man said sternly once Carlos was close, a hand coming down on his shoulder then sliding down to his lower back as he guided him towards the back of the club. "In here, my word is law, do what I say and you'll make plenty of cash and work off your debt, don't do what I say, and I'll just turn you over to our mutual acquaintance, hmm?"
"Yes, Boss." Carlos said mechanically, his heart falling into his stomach.
"You ever bartend or dance before, boy?" Carlos shook his head at the question. "No matter, knowing him he probably put the skills in your head anyway. Just let your body do it's thing and you'll pick it up." They stepped through a door into what looked like an office and Boss shut the door behind them. "Strip, I need to see what I've been sent."
There was a moment of hesitation on Carlos' part, his hand gripping the bottom of his shirt, but his brain trying to fight what was going to happen. "You must be someone not used to being ordered around, hmm? I said strip."
The second command loosened his will and he pulled his shirt off over his head tossing it aside. Next he undid his shorts and let them drop to the ground. It was only then he realized he hadn't even put on underwear. What had gotten into him.. but the breeze had felt nice. Boss made a sound the seemed like approval, running his hand down Carlos' stomach and hefting his package in a rough palm. "I see why he sent you to me. I have some clients that'll pay good money for some alone time with you." Boss' hand came up and tweaked one of Carlos' nipples, causing his cock to instantly chub up. "You'd look good with some nipple piercings, boy. I'll give you the name of a place to get it done and pay for it."
"I... I.." Carlos stammered, his inner Charlie once more trying to break free.
"I, what, boy?"
"I will, Boss." He gave up with a sigh.
Boss nodded and grinned. "Good, boy. And play up that accent a little, the patrons will love it." The man walked over to a cupboard and pulled it open. Accent? Carlos thought back and realized his words did have a slight lilt to them he hadn't noticed, a Puerto Rican flair he could see now that is was pointed out. Soon a piece of red fabric was flying at Carlos who caught it from the air. "Put that on." Boss was still rummaging, but Carlos quickly checked the garment, a pair of red spandex shorts with black around the waist and hem. They were tight as he pulled them up, and hugged his cock and ass so tightly he was sure the fabric was stretched to near transparency. Next a some red leather cuffs and a collar were placed on the desk. There was no order to put them on, but Carlos moved instinctively. "Hmm.. size.. 13 I think." And a pair of boots were placed on the floor. Carlos stepped into them and laced them up, all under the approving gaze of Boss.
"I'll get you another set of leather and a few more shorts. This is your uniform for behind the bar. Understood?"
Carlos nodded with an almost meek, "Yes, boss."
"For dancing, I'll put you in whatever costume I feel like, or what the customer requests for private performances. Understood?"
And an echoing, "Yes, boss."
He felt like tears were welling up inside of him. Frustration and anger all pushing against some invisible barrier that kept him from showing those emotions. But something must have shown, for Boss spoke up his voice soothing. "Listen. I know this is overwhelming at the start, but Astarael is right. If you just let go, most of his thralls really do seem to enjoy their new lives. I certainly do. I don't miss that prick I used to be. You'll do good here, boy."
Boss wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him back out of the office, pointing out things along the way. Break room, changing room (from which quite a few voices were now coming), stock room, the private lounges, and then it was back out onto the floor and behind the bar. "You'll be back here tonight, excepts you've been booked for one private session, supposedly Astarael wants you to learn the punishment ropes tonight, too. He said you might enjoy this one. I'll let you know when it's time."
Other workers came filtering out of the back, some were dressed like him, taking up other spots behind the bar, all warmly welcoming him and offering names which Carlos returned mechanically. Most took it for nervousness. Bouncers dotted the club and a few others waited back stage to perform as the doors opened.
It was a busy night for the club, patrons coming in almost immediately. Sure enough, Carlos' hands seemed to know how to make drinks even if his brain didn't even recognize some of the names. He just sort of went about his business serving, and cringed the first time someone stuck a five dollar bill in the hem of his shorts to tip him. The other bartenders were chatting, some were flirting, and giving shows, and almost encouraged the stuffing of bills into their shorts.
In the middle of pouring a drink an arm wrapped around his shoulder, one of the other bartenders, a blond with a swimmers build named Luke. "Carlos, you gotta loosen up a little. You're a hot piece, all you have to do is add in some smiles and a little flair and you'll be getting tons of tips." Carlos felt himself blushing at the compliment. That screaming down inside of him that was Charlie was growing ever more mute.
"You're not so bad yourself." Carlos replied with a smile.
"Maybe after work." He felt Luke's hand grip his ass teasingly before leaving him to his work. From then on Carlos eased up a little and just let himself get into the flow. Not flirting, but smiling and making small talk. He suddenly felt a burning in his chest, realizing he liked these people, and felt ashamed for things he had said as Charlie.
"Carlos." He snapped to attention as he heard Boss' voice, seeing him at the bar. "VIP room 8. Luke, take over his section." Then Boss was wandering off back to take care of something else, not even waiting for an answer, he expected them to just do it.
"Private room, already?" Luke whistled. "Good luck, hot stuff, drive 'em wild."
Carlos shot Luke a weak smile and headed toward the VIP rooms. In the hallway he heard Astarael's voice in his head. "Do as I tell you, you're going to be doing this for me quite a bit. I need you to learn and I can't keep an eye on you every second. This is also a test. Do well, and I might loosen the leash a little." Carlos opened the door and his heart sank into his stomach. He recognized the man sitting on the bench across from the door, someone from Charlie's life.