Unpaid Overtime

Jeremy walks up behind you and knocks the cup off your head. You watch as it bounces once and then rolls in a lazy half circle across the tile. Just a piece of soiled, discarded trash on the floor.

Just like you.

"Can't trust you to do fuckin anything without makin a fuckin mess!" Jeremy's grating voice falls on your ears, and you can't even bring yourself to wince. "You got anything to say for yourself, dummy?"

Still staring down at the floor, you mumble the words "sorry, boss."

"Sorry?" Jeremy chokes on a laugh. "You're sorry? Look at this!" He prods at your ass with his foot. "Your pants are fuckin ruined! I can't let you wear those anymore. Not fit for a uniform. Stand up. Take em off."

Slow, unsteady, you rise to your feet, knees still wobbly from the orgasm you grinded out on Don's knee. There's just enough of your old self left to feel humiliated at pulling your pants off in front of Jeremy, but there's not enough left to stop. You peel the soaked jeans and panties off your ass and let the clothes drop down to the floor, kicking them to the side. All that's left on you is your soda-drenched visor, your disheveled bra, and your Vans, sticky against the soiled tile.

Jeremy is right behind you, and you smell his breath before you hear him. "So what happened, dummy? How'd you make such a fuckin mess in your pants? You piss yourself?"

Your eyes close, and you feel your cheeks grow warm as you pull in a shaky breath. "N-no, boss. I didn't piss myself."

"Then what happened?" His spittle sprays out against your ear and cheek.

"I... I..." what am I hiding? Am I embarrassed? Really? After all that? You open your eyes, and take another breath. "I came in my pants, boss."

Jeremy guffaws right in your ear, the sound physically painful even as it drives a sharp rod of shame through your gut. "You fuckin came in your pants? You get that worked up servin a customer?"

Your pussy starts to tingle as you think about it. "Y-yeah... yeah, boss. I got really worked up serving that customer, and I came in my pants." Saying it out loud to Jeremy, like you're describing any other of your mundane tasks, sends your head spinning. None of this makes any sense at all, but you accept it nonetheless. Before you can even ask yourself why, the answer rises up out of the confused and aroused murk of your mind.

I accept this because I want this.

Jeremy's voice is suddenly coming from lower down, like he's kneeling behind you. "Alright, dummy, I need to inspect the scene of the crime. Soiling your uniform is serious fuckin business." He gives a soft chuckle. "Spread your cheeks."

Your hands are obeying him before you can even process what it is you're doing. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass and pull, spreading yourself open so your juicy pussy is on full display for your manager. "Like that, boss?" Is... is that really my voice?

"Yeah... yeah... just like that." Jeremy sounds like he almost can't believe he's getting away with this. "Mmmm, full bush. I like a hairy pussy, keeps the smell better." He reaches up and pulls on a pinch of your pubic hair.

"Aahhhhhh..." It hurts, but there's no rejection or revulsion in your voice. You don't flinch away, you just want... more. Your eyes close, allowing you to focus on the sensations.

Jeremy gives one last sharp tug before letting go. "Yup... this is good and wet, that's for sure. But I gotta make sure it isn't piss. Can't trust such an unreliable employee like you, dummy."

With that, you feel his stale breath against your wetness, and then his tongue is tasting you, rubbing against your swollen clit and sensitive folds, somehow slimy and rough all at once. You shudder, revolted by the sensation, by who's causing it, but that revulsion fuels the heat inside, drives your desire. Jeremy is the single most disgusting person you know, and now his tongue is all over your snatch. What the fuck why do I just want more?

As if in answer, Jeremy moves his mouth up and starts tonguing your sensitive asshole. You groan and squeal as he wriggles and pushes the slimy muscle against your rear entrance, making you feel things you've never felt before. It's then that your eyes finally open, and you see something that freezes your blood in your veins. Mrs. Lopez, one of your favorite regulars, her wrinkled face frozen in shock, is standing just outside the door of the restaurant.

The two of you stare into each other's eyes through the dirty glass, and something crumbles inside you. Whatever was left of your old idea of yourself, that last piece you were holding onto that was still capable of feeling shame, just gives away rather than face the reality of what's happening to you. Jeremy's tongue finally manages to **** it's way into your anus, and your eyes go wide, face flushed with pleasure and open mouth panting and moaning. The kind old lady who'd always give you little Mexican sweets in lieu of tips just shakes her head, eyes still disbelieving, as she turns away and leaves to find her dinner elsewhere.

Your manager finally pulls his mouth away from your dripping crotch and smacks his lips. "Yep, just like you said. You came in your fuckin pants alright. Time to clean up your mess, dummy."

Jeremy goes and gets the filthiest rag he can find, and then orders you to your hands and knees to scrub the soda and your girlcum off the tile. As you begin your humiliating task, the discomfort brings tears to your eyes, and you're keenly aware that you're on full display for anyone who walks by outside. Not that you'd expect anyone this late, this close to closing time. But that thought is still a hot little spark in your mind, pushing you to finish as fast as you can.

Of course, Jeremy doesn't let you off that easy. Once you've cleaned the mess you made while serving Don, Jeremy gives you a little kick and tells you the rest of the dining area needs a good scrubbing as well. And so begins your ordeal, scrubbing the entire floor with a filthy rag while almost totally nude. You know Jeremy is staring at your tits as they sway with your motions, at your ass and pussy, at the drips and rivulets of juice streaming from your tingling sex. The longer it goes, the more miserable and painful and humiliating your situation becomes, the hotter you feel.

Is it just the idea of people watching you? Maybe. Even after Jeremy locks the front door at closing time, you know he's still there staring at you as you work. Is it the pain in your knees and elbows? That's certainly part of it, each sharp ache seeming to intensify your arousal. But those pieces don't come together to explain the whole of what you're feeling. As you zone out into the mindless work, a new thought begins to form, one that brings it all into focus.

This is you. This is who you are now. You're a pathetic little bitch, naked and crawling across the floor on the orders of a man you despise. When you imagine yourself like this, really think about what it is you're doing, it makes you almost dizzy with arousal. The longer you go, the more it hurts, the meaner and crueler Jeremy's stream of insults becomes, the deeper you sink into this new idea of yourself.

And it feels so good.

No need to be the tough talking girl with the shine of self-confidence anymore. You can just be the slutty sandwich girl who cleans the floor naked so your manager can get his jollies. All you have to do is take it, allow it, accept the **** and humiliation and pain and you can just... let go. I want this. I want to let go. I want to submit. Even to him.

Especially to him.

When you're finally, mercifully done, Jeremy makes you do the till and the dishes and all the other various closing tasks, still without giving you a chance to clean and dress yourself. By the time you finish up, it's hours past closing time, and you've never felt so exhausted in your life. You meet Jeremy by the front door, and he gives you your dirty clothes in a bundle, a wide grin on his face.

"Well, dummy, you took so long cleaning up your mess that the last bus is already gone. How you gonna get home?"

You blink at him stupidly, too tired and turned on to form a thought, let alone an answer. I can't walk home like this. It's too far, too dark, I'm too exhausted.

Jeremy frowns at you. "Well, I was gonna offer you a ride if you asked nicely, but I guess that's off the table."

"Wait, boss, sorry." Ride home, with him? Your body grows warm at the thought. "C-can I please get a ride home?"

Jeremy's dull green eyes crawl across your body. "Yeah, sure, as long as you're dressed like that."

And that's how you end up in the passenger seat of Jeremy's beat up old Mazda. It smells even worse than he does, the footwell of the passenger side is filled with trash up to your ankles, and the seat is coated with dirt and grime. The filth immediately sticks to your ass and the backs of your thighs, and your head spins as you realize it's because your lower half is coated in your pussy juice. I'm leaking like a fucking faucet. Like a fountain. I really do want this, don't I?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Jeremy unzipping his pants. You look over to see him pull out his cock, your eyes fixating on the precum dripping from the wrinkled tip. Warmth throbs in your pussy, and you feel your wetness soaking into the filthy seat.

Jeremy smacks the back of your head. "Hey, dummy, quit drooling and get to work. You want me to start driving, you better start sucking!"

The sight of his cock is pulling you in, and you feel yourself leaning over before he even finishes his command. As your face gets closer you're greeted by the smell, familiar from when you gave him a titjob, but so much stronger now. It's like his crotch was marinating in his precum the whole time he watched you clean the shop in the nude. You suck in a deep breath through your nose, the disgusting smell of Jeremy's arousal making your mouth water and your clit tingle. I need this I want this so bad thank you for letting me taste it.

There's nothing left in you to question these absurd thoughts as your tongue starts eagerly lapping up the slimy precum coating your manager's penis. You bathe his cock in your spit, thrilling at the revolting taste, breathing hard through your nose to get as much of the smell as you can. The bulky console between your seats makes things uncomfortable and difficult, so you adjust yourself until you're up on your knees, your bare grime-encrusted ass pointing right out the dirty passenger window.

In your new position, you open your mouth and suck on the head of Jeremy's cock, tongue swirling and searching under his foreskin, feeling and tasting the lumps of smegma built up since he last washed himself. Your manager chuckles, and you can't hear what he says over the rush of blood in your ears, but the condescending sound of his voice makes his meaning clear. Moaning in ecstasy, you sink farther down on his cock, taking more of him in your drooling mouth, giving him the sloppiest blowjob of your life.

Lost in the bliss of servicing Jeremy, you're taken completely by surprise when Jeremy suddenly pulls off the road and switches off the engine. Slowly disengaging from his cock, you lift your head to look around, a thick string of drool and precum connecting your panting mouth to his twitching hardness. Eyes widening, you realize that you're in your own driveway. It's the dead of night, but you can still see a flicker of light coming from the living room window. Your mom is in there, hopefully passed out, but if she weren't, if she decided to come to the window and look outside...

"Hey! Dummy!" Jeremy grabs a fistful of your hair. "Did I tell you to stop sucking?"

You pull in a sharp breath and look up into Jeremy's eyes, the pain from him pulling your hair banishing all other thoughts from your mind. "N-no boss. Sorry."

"Yeah I bet you're sorry." He roughly shoves you back down onto his cock, pushing all the way into your throat, laughing as your gag reflex kicks in and you cough and **** around his length. "I did my part of the deal, time for you to finish up yours."

He doesn't give you a chance to move. His other hand grabs your head, joining the hand pulling your hair, and he starts to jerk himself off using your throat. It hurts. You can't breathe. Your mind empties out until there's nothing left but the feeling of being used by this man you despise. It's so good. It's so right. This feeling of total rightness, of belonging, of acceptance fills your body, and you can sense your pussy twitching and tingling and drooling down your dirty legs.

Jeremy's breathing grows ragged, and he suddenly grunts and pulls you up until just the head of his cock is in your mouth. You pull in **** breaths through your nose, filling your lungs with stinking air, and then your mouth is full of cum. Spurt after spurt of slimy semen shoots from Jeremy's cock to slosh around in your abused mouth, the awful taste overwhelming you. When he's finally done coming, Jeremy pulls your head all the way off his cock and laughs as his jizz drops from your panting mouth to coat his wrinkled nutsack.

"Not bad, dummy. One last mess to clean up, though." With that, he pushes you back down, still using the hand in your hair to control your movements. He uses your face like a rag, wiping up his copious ejaculate until you're completely coated in it.

And just like that, he kicks you out of his car, leaving you standing naked in your own driveway, holding a bundle of your soiled clothes and your face dripping with a thick layer of your manager's cum. He rolls down the window and pokes his head out. "Better get some sleep, dummy. I'm gonna be back at 7am sharp. You just earned yourself the opening shift." He cackles as he drives off, leaving you in a cloud of exhaust. When the sound of his car finally fades into the distance, all that's left is a steady drip-drip-drip. You wonder if that's his semen dripping off your face, or your own juices dripping from your crotch.