Author's note: I tend to write two types of stories: 1) the ones with positive endings where even the girls getting fucked are happy and 2) the ones where women are to be broken down and owned. This is more of the second one. If that's not your thing, this story might not be for you.
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As soon as Becca saw him walk in, she felt a groan building in her chest. As a waitress, Becca was used to the occasional leering gaze or clumsy come-on or even outright crushes from customers, but none so unbearably as Cam. Every Thursday night, right at 6PM on the dot. He always insisted on sitting in Becca's section, always stared openly at Becca's chest, and always had one more beer than Becca felt comfortable serving him.
One time, Becca had asked the server not to sit him in her section, so the hostess had told him that her section was full. He had insisted on waiting as long as necessary so that he could sit in her section. After an hour of waiting, Becca had come back from the kitchen to find that Cam had actually seated himself in her section, apparently without the knowledge of the hostess.
Becca had tried to be less-cordial. She had stopped smiling at him. She had even been downright rude. But Cam was apparently not here for her personality. No matter how rude she was, he never stopped being excited to see her or her chest. And he never failed to show up right on time.
Cam was seated in her section, probably on his usual insistence. He waited patiently, the menu unopened on the table. He always ordered the same thing and Becca knew that he wasn't there for the food in the first place.
Becca smiled warmly at the customers she was already with, approached Cam's table, and did her best to remove any semblance of smile from her face. He wasn't looking at her face as she approached, so Becca partly wondered why she bothered at all.
"Good evening," Becca said plainly.
"Helllllo lovely," Cam said, his eyes sweeping up to her face. Becca shivered slightly under his leer.
"I'm Becca, I'll be your waitress tonight," Becca said, letting rehearsal take over and to get her through. As she rattled off the specials, Cam's eyes fell down towards her skirt. Part of the uniform of the restaurant was a knee-length black skirt. Becca's actually fell a few inches below her knees, but that didn't stop Cam from trying to peek under the covers.
"And are you on the menu tonight?" Cam said as Becca finished.
"No, and for the last time I'm going to have to..."
"I know, I know," Cam said, lifting his hands into the air. "Harmless teasing, that's all." Becca had delivered her "for the last time" warning enough times that they both knew it was nothing more than hot air, but it at least broke Cam's concentration on her skirt.
Cam rattled off the order, but Becca already knew what he wanted. It was already written on her pad. She turned from the table and walked to the kitchen, fully knowing that Cam was watching her ass as she left. At least he was a good tipper.
Becca dodged Cam as much as she could manage, but still she had to deliver his drink, give him the restaurant-mandated 5-minute heads-up before his food was ready, and finally bring him his plate. Cam was seated at a booth, but Becca found that when she brought him his food he had scooted further into the seat. He was obviously hoping she'd lean over to deliver the plate. It didn't seem to matter that Becca's shirt buttons weren't undone enough to give him any sort of view.
Becca put a knee on the booth's seat, so she wouldn't have to lean too much. Still, she was tall enough that she had to bend slightly to place the plate on the table. Just as she was congratulating herself on bending without showing him any chest, Becca heard a sort of spraying noise and a powerful aroma struck her. The plate actually slipped out of her fingers, clattering loudly to the table, but she was barely aware of it. Everything suddenly seemed far away and if Becca was capable of thought, she might have thought the words "out of body".
"You want to suck my dick," Cam's voice informed her through the haze. "More than anything else in the world."
Then, the world seemed to snap back into focus. The aroma was gone and she was just kneeling on the booth. Becca became aware that she had dropped the plate on the table. Some fries had fallen off.
"I... uh... did you say something?" Becca asked, trying to regain her bearings.
"I said thank you," Cam said. "Are you alright, beautiful?"
"Don't call me that," Becca said, but she knew her instinctive response lacked her normal conviction. "And... I'm fine." She was now sure of where she was. She was also sure who she was with--Sir leers-a-lot.
"Is there anything else?" Becca snapped.
"Can I get another beer?" Cam asked.
"Yeah," Becca said, then marched to the bar.
What had happened? Why had she lost her head so suddenly? And why did it have to be with Cam, the guy that she would least want to be out of her senses around? She could practically hear his dick spring up whenever she was around. What a creep. What a creep with his big, hard creep dick. She hated him and that big, full dick.