Aisha's Ride Home (POV shift)

A/N: I was a little dissatisfied with the last chapter and I decided to switch up the POV to stir the old creative juices. Depending on how this goes and if people like it, I have a number of other vignettes from Jack's new world in mind. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more updates from other perspectives like this. Note that Jack may still be adding more rules to the Notebook in the background; instead of necessarily showing them when they get added, they'll just be noted when they become relevant to what's happening.

As per usual the length of this spiraled beyond my expectations once I got started and the ideas kept coming (so much so that I've decided to break it up into different chapters at natural break points), so I hope you guys enjoy it all lol. Constructive feedback or just comments are always welcome, it's nice to know if what I'm writing is working for people.

Aisha nervously walked down the sidewalk towards the bus stop holding onto her smartphone in one hand while pulling the front of her shirt down to cover her bare, still freshly-waxed pussy with her other hand (the unfortunate corollary of which was that her round bubble butt was left totally uncovered). It was making her more than a little anxious to be bottomless in public, especially with the light fading after she finished working the last shift of the day and took care of what she needed to after work, so she thought about how her day had gone as she walked just to try to avoid focusing on her current situation.

It was bad enough that man, Jack, had shredded her panties to help wax her pussy, but she'd been stunned speechless when she went to retrieve her pants after her shift finally ended. Her bitch manager Miranda had smugly informed her that she'd thrown Aisha's pants out, and the trashman had already come and taken them away, leaving her completely bottomless.

Miranda had condescendingly told her it was to teach her a lesson for showing up "unprepared to work due to inappropriate attire for the café's policies" and she should just be grateful that Miranda had bothered to take her phone out of her pants before tossing them - never mind that the tipping policies requiring the girls to wear short skirts and nothing else were completely new and hadn't even existed before today. If Aisha didn't need this job so badly, she would have screamed in Miranda's face and quit on the spot. But alas, need the job she did - college wasn't going to pay for itself.

And so here Aisha was, out in public dressed in her cute pink headscarf, her modest long-sleeved black shirt, and nothing else besides her socks and sneakers. She didn't even have her bra anymore since Jack had ripped it off her while ""helping"" remove her virginity with that enormous penis of his. The lack of support wasn't as bad as it could be since her breasts were surprisingly perky and firm for how large they were, but she'd always been self-conscious about her enormous E-cup breasts and she'd relied on her bra to keep them in check. Her shirt was tight over her breasts (it was almost impossible to find shirts in her size that weren't) even before she'd pulled it taut trying to cover her pussy with her shirt, and she was afraid it was horribly obvious how they were bouncing and jiggling with every step.

It was the perfect capper on what was probably the worst, most humiliating day of Aisha's entire life. She'd been filmed getting stripped, waxed, spread open and devirginized by a stranger with a giant dick, then **** to eat that stranger's cum out of her own pussy before licking the rest of it off the floor. Aisha couldn't help but close her eyes and whimper to herself when she thought about how that recording had been uploaded to all the café's social media accounts - she hadn't dared to check her messages yet, but she'd seen she'd had dozens of texts and missed calls so there was no chance it hadn't been seen by people she knew. Had her family seen it already? Even if not, was there even anything she could do to prevent that from happening?

All of that had been before her shift even started, and that had been a nightmare in its own right. All day, she'd had customers stuffing cash up her cunt to tip her, and not only had she been **** to ask them to do it, she'd had to reward them by pulling her shirt up and letting them motorboat and photograph her tits, taking away her last shred of modesty over and over. Needless to say, tipping had increased enormously, but not as much as Aisha's sense of total humiliation.

While there was a silver lining there in that it was going to be much easier to cover her expenses and tuition now, the flipside was that it had grown increasingly uncomfortable - even painful. The girls had been forbidden from emptying their "tip jars" all day, and their pussies had grown increasingly overstuffed and stretched out as a result. Aisha unconsciously rubbed her sore pussy with the hand pulling her shirt down to soothe it as she remembered how it had felt to be stretched further and further beyond what she would have thought her limits were before today by the customers' forceful fingers and the cash they left behind.

Worse, Aisha's pussy (all the girls' pussies, really) had grown increasingly... stimulated... from all the contact, even with all the humiliation and discomfort. Besides magnifying her humiliation, with her overstuffed cunt dripping wet it became that much harder to keep her tips inside her. And whenever some had slipped out, the tipping policy had required her to bend over and beg the customers to please put their tips back in. Aisha winced as she thought of how the customers hadn't hesitated to shove half their hands (everything but the thumb, really) up her pussy to help compact the cash in deeper. The worst had been when she came from it, or from the customers cheekily playing with her clit before or after tipping her. Besides the mortifying humiliation of orgasming from strangers' hands in public, that had made more cash fall out every time, requiring her to repeat the degrading process of begging to have it reinserted.

That still hadn't been as bad as the end of her shift, though. Miranda had set up a camera to record the proceedings for the café's social media accounts again (most of the customers had gotten their phones out to do the same, to Aisha's further shame), then made all the girls hop up on the counter and pull their knees up to their chest to expose their pussies further. Miranda had then "helpfully" emptied their "tip jars" for them. Unlike the customers, Miranda hadn't hesitated to use her whole hand, mercilessly fisting all their pussies to pull all the cash out. Aisha winced again as she remembered how when it came to her, Miranda had smugly claimed she "needed" more than one hand to get all the cash out and ruthlessly shoved both her hands up Aisha's cunt, relentlessly forcing them into her horribly overstretched pussy and double-fisting her without hesitation.

Aisha was surprised her scream at that hadn't cracked the glass in the windows, but even worse than the pain was the (previously) unimaginable humiliation of having a massive squirting orgasm in public from the merciless two-handed **** on her pussy. At least Miranda's position had meant she got totally soaked in Aisha's juices when Aisha squirted, not that Aisha had recovered in time to appreciate it. One of the customers had shown her some pictures he'd taken showing the hilarious look on Miranda's face when Aisha had squirted pussy juice directly into her eyes, though, and Aisha smiled to herself when she remembered it. She'd asked him to text her the pics, actually - at least that one small part of it was a memory she'd like to hold onto.

After that, Miranda had counted each girl's tips to see which of the girls had "won" that day. To no one's surprise, Aisha and her massive melons had carried the day there. Aisha smirked as she remembered the sour look on Miranda's still-wet face at that, but then shuddered as she remembered what had happened to the loser. Between her small breasts and the bad attitude she kept even after getting assfucked on the table by Jack, Angela had gotten the least tips that day. Miranda had worn a truly evil grin on her face as she announced that to apologize for her poor performance, the café would allow every customer there to each slap Angela's pussy to "incentivize" her to try harder. The spectacle of the "tip jars" getting emptied had kept quite a crowd of customers around even with orders closed, and Aisha didn't think a single one of them had hesitated to step up to take their turn, nor had they held back when they swung. Needless to say, by the time they were done Angela's voice was hoarse from screaming, and her pussy was red and swollen beyond belief. Aisha didn't envy her having to show up for her next shift and ask customers to please shove even more cash up her incredibly sore cunt just to try to avoid a repeat performance.

Maybe Aisha having to show off her big breasts and let the customers play with them every time she got tipped wasn't so bad after all - it had kept her in first place at least.

At least Jack had kept his word and let her go buy birth control after her shift - Aisha really didn't want to get pregnant from him fucking her earlier. It had been incredibly embarrassing to bring a box of birth control up to the counter at the pharmacy while bottomless though. Aisha blushed again as she remembered the clerk smirking at her when she hesitantly asked how effective the birth control was after the fact. Infuriatingly, the clerk had made her stop pulling her shirt down in front and show him her pussy before answering her.

Even after the day she'd had Aisha had almost stormed off when he'd asked her for that, but not only did she want the answer, she still needed to finish buying the birth control. In the end she'd had to not just lift her shirt but even put one foot up on the counter to give him a better look before he'd finish the checkout and answer her. When she'd looked away from embarrassment while doing that, he'd seized the opportunity to take a picture of her showing off her still-wet cunt with his phone too, catching her looking like an enormous (albeit blushing) slut.

In the end she'd gotten the birth control, taken the first pill and for lack of a better alternative tucked the bottle into her cleavage (it was light enough she wasn't too worried about it slipping out without a bra on, unlike her phone), and the clerk had told that based on what he'd heard the pharmacist saying her odds of getting pregnant now were under 15% - much better than Jack had suggested. He'd added that if she had sex again today without using a condom then the odds could flip the other way to a 90% chance or worse of getting pregnant, though - irritatingly, he'd just laughed in her face when Aisha had stiffly informed him that she wasn't that kind of girl and that wouldn't be an issue. She guessed it was no surprise though - a bottomless girl in public with a wet hairless pussy wasn't exactly the most credible when it came to that kind of claim.

Aisha perked up when she saw the bus stop come into view - humiliating as the memories were, the distraction had worked and the walk to the stop had gone by in a flash. She broke into a jog (trying to ignore how that sent her breasts bouncing totally out of control) as she saw the bus come around the corner - buying the birth control must have taken longer than she'd realized.

She made it to the stop just as the bus pulled up, and quickly stepped up the stairs in when the doors opened, showing her digital ticket on her phone to the bus driver. She blushed when the driver eyed her clearly bottomless state, raised an eyebrow, and said "Must have been having a lot of fun today, huh?

Aisha looked down to avoid eye contact, horribly embarrassed by the false impression the driver had of her as some kind of slut. "No, that's not my fault. My manager just threw my pants away to teach me a lesson, because-"

"Sure, whatever you say," the driver said as he scanned her ticket, clearly not buying a word of it.

Aisha didn't argue - what would be the point? He obviously wasn't going to believe her, and at this point she just desperately wanted to get back home with a minimum of fuss and collapse into a hot bath to destress. If she was lucky she'd be able to sneak in without her parents spotting her bottomless state, inshallah.

As the doors closed and the bus pulled away from the stop, Aisha turned to go find a seat. Just a couple steps in, she stopped short as she took in what she was seeing.