On a 7-9, you convince Clara you're in control

Before Clara finishes, you tiptoe to the door and slide the little sign out that says "Closed For Cleaning" in six languages in front of the entrance.

Clara opens the stall to find you staring at her. She makes a break for the exit, but you catch her and pull her off her feet, catching her head under your arm as she falls to the floor. She struggles, but you won't let her go.

"I'm so sorry," you hiss at her. "You've been very careless, Clara."

"You can't do anything to me!" she protests.

"What kind of pitiful little bitch do you think you are, that you can get away with talking to me like that?" you say. "Apologize."

"You can't make me," she growls angrily.

"I'd think a young woman with your record would be more careful who she offends," you say. "What is this going to look like to your probation officer?"

Clara whitens. "You wouldn't."

"You can't stop me," you say.

Clara whines in desperation. "You can't do it, they'll send me back, or worse, to the State Hospital."

"I can and I will," you say, holding her down.

She sighs, tears in her eyes, her make-up running.

"I give up," she says, going limp. "I apologize, I'll do whatever."

"As to an apology," you say, "I think you said something about rug-munching?"

She nods.

"Get up, wash the piss off your hands, and come with me," you tell her. "You get to be my virgin rug-munching." A lie, maybe, but Clara has hardly earned your trust.

Clara's shoulders shake as she washes her hands.

You lead Clara to a quiet basement storeroom.

"Beg for it," you tell her.

"N-nurse Bates," she says, her lower lip trembling, bright with lipstick. "Eat me."

"What's the magic word, Clara?" you say.

"Please!"

You sweep Clara off her feet and onto a stack of folded hospital smocks. Her high-heeled feet go up, her thighs part, and you discover Clara wasn't wearing panties under her skirt.

Her pussy is shaved smooth and bare, and oozes with her juices.

"Ohhh!" Clara cries as your lips find her pussy.