She is punished for it

The collar hit her before she took a few steps forward.

Five minutes. The collar shocked her for five continuous minutes. Amelie did not even come over at first. She just held the button and watched from the service station while Lauren folded against the ice bin, juice running down her thighs because the vibrator had gotten her wet earlier, customers half-standing, somebody laughing, her green eyes wet and her mouth open on a sound she could not swallow. Five minutes was long enough to understand the rule in her bones. Women were not the job. Enjoying women was a mistake. When it stopped, Amelie had crouched beside her and tapped her cheek.

“Figured it out yet, stupid?”

Amelie did not wait for an answer. She hooked two fingers in Lauren’s collar and hauled her off the ice bin, through the swing door, into the back hall where the office and the supply closet were. Lauren’s legs were still stinging. Her shorts were twisted. Her tank had pulled sideways so one heavy tit was half out. Amelie did not fix it.

The supply closet door kicked shut. Amelie shoved her face-first over a stack of napkin cases. Orange shorts yanked down to mid-thigh. Cool air on her ass, on the wet smear the shock had left on her cunt.

“You don’t get to like the girls,” Amelie said. “You don’t get to enjoy that. That’s not what that body is for.”

The first spank cracked loud in the small room. Lauren jerked. The cases shifted. Amelie hit her again, harder, open palm across the fattest part of her ass, then the other side, then the first again, no rhythm she could brace for. Lauren’s massive tits mashed into cardboard. The collar box dug into her throat every time she tried to lift her head.

“Count.”

“I–”

Another smack. Heat bloomed across her skin.

“Count, stupid.”

“One.” It came out wet. “Two. Three–”

Amelie kept going. She put her weight into it. Petite or not, she knew how to make a juicy ass bounce and sting. Lauren’s ponytail swung. She bit the inside of her cheek so she would not moan, then failed anyway when Amelie’s hand caught the sweet spot right where the shorts would rub on her pussy. Her pussy clenched hard. The vibrator stayed off. This was not a reward.

“This is your place,” Amelie said, panting a little, still hitting her. “Bent over for men. Not making eyes at some pair of bitches. Not thinking you’re special because they looked at your face.”

Lauren’s ass was on fire. She could feel how red it would be. She counted until the numbers blurred and then Amelie stopped, leaving her hanging there with her shorts around her thighs and her cunt dripping onto the cases for no reason that made sense.

Amelie pulled the shorts back up. The fabric scraped. She slapped the marked ass once more through the orange shorts.

“Walk it off. You’ve got tables to serve.”

She opened the door and went out first. Lauren pushed herself upright, eyes wet, asscheeks burning. She hated her. She pulled the tank straight over her tits and followed.

Curiously, she got shocked every time she made physical contact with Amelie as well.

Lauren loved physical contact. She would have loved snuggling or touching her best friend, a hand on a waist in the walk-in, a forehead against a shoulder after a bad table, the kind of easy closeness that used to feel like breathing. She reached for it the second day without thinking. Fingers on Amelie’s arm. The collar bit. Amelie called her names and laughed at her.

“Hands off, you desperate bitch. I’m not a useless dyke” she’d say.

Lauren had snatched her hand back whenever she’d say something like that. She had slowly begun to hate Amelie over the past few days. This was not the friend she remembered. This woman used the remote like a toy and laughed when Lauren hit the floor and talked about her ‘Daddy’ obsessively. Lauren wondered whether the woman had ever truly been a friend to her. Surely such a horrible person could not count as a friend. The thought sat next to the other thought, the one that still called her ma’am on the floor and still bent for the boys because the vibrator was the only kindness in the building.

She finished the third table. The men tipped in ones and looked down her cut shirt when she thanked them. The buzz in her pussy faded as she walked away.

After her shifts were done, Lauren had to report back to her boss, Richard.