Knock, knock.
The door flew open a moment later, revealing a dangling flaccid penis and the man it belonged to, wearing an open robe. I was lost for words. I tried to avert my eyes by looking down at the pizza I was here to deliver. Eventually I glanced back up at the man, and then at his eyes as I motioned for him to take it. He smiled, his messy brown hair and big brown eyes drawing a surprising amount of attention, considering what was hanging out of his burgundy bath robe.
"You're cute." His eyes meandered down to my chest as he took a step to the right, setting his food down on a side table by the door and waving his hand toward the room behind him, beckoning me inside. "Come inside."
My cheeks turned red. "I... I don't think... " I began to say. A nearly nude stranger inviting me into his house would definitely qualify as a red flag, but I found myself taking a few steps into the apartment, my body resisting my attempts to escape or even just stop walking and stand still. Mom told me I shouldn't work a job like this, especially after dark. I should have listened.
"We're going to have a little fun with you." He led me into the living room and sat down on a pillowy green couch, next to a woman about my age with black shoulder-length curls and dark skin, lounging in a pink nightie that didn't leave much to the imagination. The otherwise inviting scent of vanilla greeted me from candles around the room. "Go ahead. Give us a spin," the man said, "Let's take a look at what we're working with."
As if knowing what he wanted was enough to add nuance to my movements, my body flourished in a slow rotation, my arms rising into the air and teasing my hair seductively as I posed myself for an all angle in-motion inspection. My back arched of its own accord, granting a better view of my chest and rear. My outfit was an unflattering yellow polo with a corny "Pizza Time" company logo embroidered on the right side, a pair of khaki pants, and a pair of tennis shoes. After my go-round, I found that I had regained a modicum of control and could stop spinning, which I did. I stood plainly in front of the couple on the couch, awaiting whatever was coming.
My mind was reeling with anxiety. I was helpless to do anything but follow this stranger's command. I felt like a passenger in a car crash unable to do anything to stop it. I was a passenger in my own body, and a man whose name I didn't even know was driving.
"Boring," the man rolled his eyes. "Let's have a look under the hood, shall we? Top off!" The woman by his side cackled to herself, amused by the evaluation I was receiving.
My hands reached for the bottom of my shirt. Panic set in. I summoned every ounce of willpower I had into one simple task... STOP. As my fingers closed around the hem of my top, they quivered and remained in place. It seemed like an eternity of fighting, but after just long enough for my voyeurs to smile at my frustration, the quiver became a shake. Before I knew it, my control was gone and I slowly drew my top upwards revealing my plain white bra, then tugged it over my head, dropping it onto the floor in front of me.
"Did you see that? The shake?" The man's sultry accomplice flashed a look at him. "Keith, baby, I love when they fight it!" Her hand slid down her silk nightie to her matching panties, gently massaging herself.
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. The air against my exposed tummy gave me a slight shiver, and I felt goosebumps on my skin.
"Not even an exciting bra under that dull work uniform? Your life DOES need spicing up, doesn't it?" My head shook vigorously from side to side as Keith spoke. "The bra goes." His hand flicked as if shooing it away.
Already feeling defeated, I didn't even try to resist as my fingers unhooked my bra and let it drop alongside the shirt. My nipples perked up, and I wasn't sure if it was from the embarrassment, or if I was actually finding arousal in this. Don't get me wrong, I was mortified and this was a bad situation, but Keith had a charming smile and a hard body on display.
My breasts hung out in the open air, drawing the attention of the room. Keith reached out eagerly with both hands and cupped them roughly, squeezing their tear drop shape upward, almost enveloped by his hands. He let them fall with a jiggle, then traced a curvy line down my side with one finger, stopping at the edge of my pants.
"How do you like her, Candi?" He said, turning his eye to his bedfellow beside him. Her eyes were wide with a manic lust and she lunged forward, licking my nipple with a flat tongue, then placing her lips around it. With a quick suck and a pop, her lips pulled away and she allowed herself to fall backward into her seat.
"She's perfect!"
Keith's eyes met mine. "Go ahead. You may put your top back on. You can leave the bra where it is." Grateful at least, for regaining control of my body, I reached for my uniform shirt with a wistful glance at my surrendered undergarment. As I redressed, I could feel the rough texture of the loosely woven polo against my bare breasts. I looked down and noticed the surprisingly visible outline of where my nipples met the fabric. Keith smiled.
"We're going to play a game. You're going to go back to work and continue making your deliveries until you clock out at the end of your shift. On your next stop, you will insist that you don't take cash or card tips, and instead ask for the first degrading thing that pops into your little head." He grinned mischievously. "Make sure it sounds like you really want it. If they agree, you'll do it. If you can't get them on board, you will remove your shirt until you receive my permission to put it back on. No tip, no top!" He eyed my phone sticking out of my back pocket. "I'm sure you need that, but no telling anyone about our game, and no trying to weasel out of it. Capiche?"
I nodded nervously. His eyes met mine before shifting to the door, cueing my exit. "See you soon!"
