The flesh is weak

“Old rule: All employees are only attracted to men.”

“Old rule: All employees wear ankle-length black dresses as a uniform. Plain white aprons on top.”

“Old rule: No piercings of any kind are permitted, save ear piercings on women.”

“Old rule: All employees speak respectfully to men.”

“New rule: All employees must present themselves for inspection as Jason Holmes requires.”

Pencil tapping his desk, Holmes reviewed what he had written. Shaking his head as he thought of the recent case of teenage pregnancy in his old Parish, of the almost child father, he struck out the first line.

Then erased it just to be sure.

“Old rule: All employees are only attracted to older men.”

Then, in an inspired moment,

“New rule: All employees wear simple chastity belts at work to prevent accidents. Jason Holmes has all the keys in his pockets and controls access. The chastity belts are stored in separate locations under the coffee bar.”

From his simple chair Holmes looked up, his slacks weighed down by a large ring of heavy metal keys, oddly bulging out of his pocket.

The black woman said in a rather bored manner, “Really basic uniforms here, not that interesting, you should probably chat with the owner, maybe have some color added?”

A polite, but subdued Emily responded. “It’s always been this way, long as I can remember. I think Sammie just prefers the simple stuff. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, no I’m good, have a nice day, and thanks for the Frappe. The price is pretty good and,” taking a sip she continued, “the taste ain’t half bad. I may be back for that if nothing else.”

Turning she walked past the only other customer in the place, Holmes, with a distant nod. Holmes, glanced at her, and saw her bag, “Lexi’s Furniture: Proudly black owned since 1965” written on the side.”

Holmes watched her leave through the stained-glass windows. Standing up, notebook carried under his arm, pencil put away he stepped up to the counter.

“Sir, do you like your coffee-ee-e?” she stammered. A blush adorned her face, plain red pixie cut, standing behind the bar the young lady, perhaps 19-20 years old, in her black dress and white apron was perhaps almost puritanical in nature. Strangely that raised Holmes’ attraction, to his hidden contrition.

“Young lady,” he said. “Your belt? Are you wearing it?”

Panicking a bit, Emily said, “Is that really necessary? It’s a new rule, we just had, that is, shouldn’t we reconsider – “

“Over here,” Holmes boomed, pointing at his feet.

Once around the counter a deeply flushed Emily stood in front of him, hands clasped together in front, as though to shield herself from what she knew was coming.

“Up,” stated Holmes, pointing down at the hem of her dress.

Slowly the hemline rose, almost tucking her face behind it.

Jason Holmes, stood there in that coffee shop, on that cold, rainy early September day, as Seattle slow woke up to the start of a school season, and he recognized that the world had changed in that moment. Forever.

Purposefully, yet quickly, he strode behind the coffee bar, Emily in front of the long plain brown stand, covered in the standard menus and advertisements common to coffee shops everywhere, while cars drove past the front of shop.

New to the place, Holmes took a moment to scan past unfamiliar names, until he found the slot he was looking for. Pulling out a small box he opened it up to reveal a bulky device, industrial whoever designed had ensured that it would cover everything. Steel, or steel like the frame gave the impression that no access would be granted, the lock a small hey hole in the upper center.

Back around the counter, he stated. “I’ll assist you today, in the future it is your responsibility.”

Awkwardly, Holmes pulled down cheap red panties, while Emily shivered at his touch, before unlocking the belt, and putting on it on her. Her fair skin supple with goose bumps under his touch, her poorly trimmed hair meshing poorly with the belt, he nonetheless tightened and secured it firmly. The click of the lock echoing. Her legs shaking all the while. Before stretching her poor panties back over the chastity belt, the thin red fabric almost at the braking point, and digging oddly around the grey frame, yet taught over the top black loop of the belt.

Emily stood, dress hem still in her hands, grey gleaming through red, things damp with excitement, hair caught in middle, blushing more than she had ever blushed in her life, heart beating in her chest, attracted to Holmes more than ever, but now helpless to do anything about it. Releasing her white knuckled grip the dress feel back to her ankles, wrinkled apron over it.

Stepping back, he gazed proudly at his work, and simply said, “Good.”