Writers Note: This is a work of fiction. Don't do this stuff in real life. Consent matters. That said, enjoy some fucked up fun.
She was a good girl. You know the type. Eager to please, respond well to praise. Raised in a respectful environment. Perhaps a prudish one though. Or maybe it wasn't something she thought about. I was wrong on that last thought though.
She'd started work just a couple weeks ago and I was instantly drawn to her. Slim, fresh faced, new to the workforce right out of high school. She joked she wasn't the college type, but she had a sadness in her eyes when she said that. Money issues? Perhaps, but I would later learn that she was curious. It was just that it had been beaten out of her. I didn't know that yet however.
She was such a cute timid thing. Wearing boyish clothes with a pixie haircut. The slightest stutter, or perhaps hesitation when larger men were around her. She was fine around young men, but the second a 6 foot tall man entered her space, she changed. She changed around me alot.
I didn't think about the reasons why at the start. I didn't care, in all honesty. She was legal, she was cute, and most of all. I knew what those signs all meant. They meant I could do what I wanted.
I flirted with her at first. Tested the waters with her, but it was frustrating. She clammed up, got insecure, and wouldn't look me in the eyes. It was annoying. It made me want to do bad things to her. To make her react. So I did. The first chance I got, when we both closed. I was her immediate manager, and not long after the last employee left besides us, I went looking for her. She was over by the counter, cleaning it up. I snuck up behind her. The way she tensed when my hand suddenly touched her shoulder made me stiffen.
"You're such a good worker, Jessica. I can't believe this is your first job," I told her as I massaged her shoulders. I felt her try to turn to face me, but I didn't allow it. My fingertips tightened their grip and I kept her facing forward, away from me. "Tell me, are you always such a good girl?" The sudden shudder she gave as I asked that did not go unnoticed by me. She took a few seconds to get her breathing under control, then spoke.
"Mr. Jenkins, I don't think you...," she started to say. She again twisted, or tried to, but I put an end to that. My fingertips dug into her skin, not painfully, not yet, as I straightened her out. I stepped even closer to her, my body pressing into hers. My breath was hot and moist on her neck. I watched the fine fuzz of whisper thin hairs stiffen there.
"You didn't answer my question. Are you a good girl?" I asked. Slowly, finally she nodded. I could only see the side of her jaw, but by the way it quivered, I knew words weren't going to come out without her crying. That was fine by me. Without stepping back, I started massaging her shoulders. My fingers kneaded into her skin, the pressure slowly but surely pushing her forwards a bit. I pressed harder as my hands worked down her sides and the small of her back until her hands, pale white and tensing, gripped at the counter before her.