No, time for work

Brett considered spending the rest of his day on the bus having fun, but ultimately decided it was time for work. He had something fun planned with the customers, anyway.

Brett's boss, Lucy, is the kind of person who was hot and knew it. She was a tall, blonde, and thin, but with an ass that filled out the booty shorts she wore every day. She made money on the side modeling for the grocery store's ads. And he just knew she slept her way up to manager, from the way she and upper management seemed to constantly flirt. It wasn't like she could have made it by being a good employee.

The problem with Lucy is that she was an awful manager. She didn't know how to do anything but bitch and moan at the employees.

Brett walked into the back room of the store to see Lucy standing over Jim, his best friend at the store, berating him. Jim was sitting in a chair facing her rather than the table which heald his breakfast. He looked paler than usual, fear in his eyes.

"When you stack the goddamn apples, face the stickers to the front, you fucking dumbass," she rapped on his head with her knuckles. "I've got my bosses yelling at me for shitty presentstion. You need to think! This is the second time I've told you this."

Now, Brett knew that, despite everything, Jim has always had a crush on her. Jim was a skinny kid, just a couple years out of high school. He had no muscle and his face was covered in acne scars. He had no chance with a beauty like Lucy. Brett closed his eyes and thought, I know what Jim sees in her. He was immediately filled with the knowledge that his friend secretly liked being berated and degraded. Her being a bitch was his favorite thing about her.

Brett shrugged to himself. Whatever he wanted, though Brett wouldn't have minded putting Lucy in her place. Maybe later. He then commanded Lucy to get horny thinking about humiliating and torturing Jim. She would love tieing him up and teasing him to an orgasm. She would love filling the role of a domme. It was her favorite fantasy because he was so little and pathetic.

Brett watched the changes. They were subtle. Her expression changed from one of anger to one of a deep hunger, like she was ready to devour Jim. She put a knee up between his legs, as if she were merely trying to lean closer. Jim glanced down, measuring the proximity of her smooth, sun-tanned knee to his dick in his slacks. He gulped.

She also looked down at his slacks, noticing his little erection. She smiled like a tiger about to pounce. "You're enjoying this, aren't you," she purred. "You stacked them wrong just so I'd bring you in here."

"No, I didn't," Jim said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't."

Finally Lucy noticed Brett by the door. She pointed to him and said, "You did, and you love this so much you have a little tiny boner right in front of your sexy friend. How do you feel, knowing he is so much hotter than you? He could get anyone in the store, and here you are getting off on being so pathetic."

Brett was almost surprised before he remembered making himself into the sexiest man alive. He couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride at her words, even if he hated who they came from.

"Is that why you hang around him? To feel inferior?" Her leg moved in farther until it was pressed up against his erection. Jim grimmaced, like he was trying to hold something back, though if that something was pain or pleasure, Brett couldn't tell. Forget that I'm here and don't notice me, he commanded the two of them.

"Go lock the door," Lucy ordered, and Jim hurried to hop up and do it. "Strip," she said, and he did that too. Jim ripped off his shirt, then pants, leaving just his underwear. He covered his erection with his hands. He was stuck between fear of what she would do to him and an overwhelming excitement that she was playing exactly into his biggest fantasies.

She grinned like the cheshire cat and sauntered over to him, switching her hips. They were about the same height. Brett gave her a pair of 3 inch heels so she could look down on Jim. "When I say 'strip,'" she runs a manicured nail over his chest from his collar to his naval, "I don't mean 'strip until you're too uncomfortable.'" As quick as light, she brings her hand from his stomach to his face in a slap that knocked his head to the side. "OFF!"

He hurried to comply, clumsily ripping his briefs off. "Sorry, Lucy," he mumbled.