Waitress Duty

Waitress Duty
By: Sarah (earlybirdabdn@yahoo.co.uk)

I was not having a good day. . . if fact, it was fucking rotten. I had expected it to be an exciting evening of treats and thrills and instead it was bloody nightmare.

"Ow!" I yelled, as another hand pinched my exposed ass. I had to try hard not to drop the plates I was carrying; it was difficult enough waitressing for the first time ever, without having do it half-naked and whilst being molested by a randy stag-party.

I bent over and laid out the plates on the table. In anticipation of a kinky night of passion, I'd worn my tight black corset beneath my now long-gone dress - my already impressive 36G chest was squeezed and enhanced and each boob was as big as my head. It was supposed to have been for my boyfriends eyes only. . . I shot back as a hand grabbed at my breast.

SMACK!

My head hit the wooden beam above the table. I bent over again, grabbing my sore head, when another hand slapped my bottom hard. Instinctively, I shot up again.

WHACK!

"OWW!" - bend back over. . .

SPLAT!

This time when I rocked forward, someone push my face down, right into their messy curry. The table erupted in laughter, as did half the resturant.

"Here, let me clean that off!" Everyone around carefully wiped the food from my chest, leaving my face covered. This was not my plan for the evening at all. . .

Three hours ago, I had been looking forward to a really fun evening. I was dressed up to the nines and had my best corset and stockings on. I was even wearing my Mum's old faux-fur coat. It had all started to go wrong when we got to the restaurant. . .

"Real?" The girl at the door hissed at me as she took my coat, revealing my corset enhanced cleavage. "Of course!" I replied, my chest is all my own, not a hint of silicone in the 36G bust. "Bitch!" she hissed back, but I was used to skinny waifs being jealous.

"Ow!" She had kicked my ankle in passing. "Fur is murder!" she spat, holding my coat at arms length. "Oh. . .no, that's no what I mea. . " I started. . .

"AAARGH!" Her stiletto heel actually put a hole in my new shoes!

I limped to the table, trying hard not to worry if she'd actually broken anything. I thought things were getting better; the menu looked good and the waiter actually spoke to my face! Of course, he split the soup all down my front and virtually licked it off, but I was used to that sort of thing.

"Isn't that your coat?", my boyfriend asked, raising his eyes above my cleavage for once. I spun round in my chair, looking over at the pegs by the side of the kitchens. "Yes!" I replied, looking over my shoulder. Someone had lifted it off the peg and was rifling through the pockets. I jumped to my feet, my boyfriend leapt up as well, and we both started running towards the kitchen. Whoever it was saw us, and started running too, still carrying my coat. It's hard to run in heels, and the underwear wasn't designed for althetics, so very quickly I was passed by my partner. We followed the thief through the kitchen, and they flew out the firedoors at the back. They were swinging shut again after my boyfriend, but I just made it through as well. . .

SMACK!

My whole body was catapulted back into the solid metal door, knocking all the wind out of me. One of my dress straps was caught in the firedoor opening mechanism! I watched helplessly as my man disappeared down the back alley after the coat thief. I pulled it hard, but it must have be trapped tight. Damn it!

Fortunately, I thought, someone came back along the alleyway. "Hey!" I called, "Can you help me free?" I recognised the man from the restaurant; he was the manager if I remembered correctly. He frowned at me in a most unfriendly manner.

"Why should I do that?" He snapped, then slapped me hard across the face. I clasped my stinging cheek, "What?!"

"We don't take kindly to people who run off without paying!" He slapped me again, on the other side. "But. . .I. . ."

"No Buts! Give me the money and I might not call the police. . ."

"It was all in my coat!" I pleaded. "If you just let me out, I'll get my boyfriend and he'll pay, I swear!"

"Let you out. . . sure. . . why I don't I open the door, turn my back and count to ten? Will you pay me in magic beans?! You're coming with me, now. If you can't pay, you'll work it off!"

He yanked at my dress, and it started to tear. "Careful!" I shouted, but to no avail, he tore it plain off, leaving me in just my underwear. The manager looked me up and down for a second; the tight black corset pushed my huge tits up and my slim waist in, I had very small black knickers and silk stockings. He shrugged, and thumped me hard in the stomach.

"Boyfriend indeed, " he mubbled to himself, "we have enough whores in this area as it is. . . "

So. . . he decided dishwashing wasn't humilating enough, and made me wait tables in my underwear. When the stag party arrived, he almost pissed himself laughing. I was their "special" waitress - and they all thought it was planned!

When the policewoman arrived, I thought the bastard had reported me afterall. But it was worst than that. . .

"Hey, bitch, I'm the stripper her; you fuck off!"

"No, I'm just a waitress, well, actually, I'm not even . . . ", she was striding towards me, "I. . ."

SMACK!

A proper right hook to the face, the lads all cheered as I crumpled to the ground. I accidently pulled on her trousers as I tried to stand up.

WHACK!

She kicked me back down, "I don't do lesbo stuff neither!" The lads cheered again as I fell back down. I struggled to my feet, careful not to touch her again. . .

"Look. . ." I started. . ."I'm not a str.."

"So, Bitch!" she interupted, "I ain't interested in sharing." She turned to the stag party. "Who's the stripper here? Me or her?!" The guys all laughed, one of the shrugged - "Whoever gets their kit off first!" he grinned.

Before I could respond, the cry of "Cat-fight!" and "Winner takes all!" came up from the table, and the stripper pounced. It was never fair. . .

THUMP! SMACK! SLAP! KICK! PUNCH!

I tried to avoid it but she was virtually a pro. And then. . . with a single almightly yank, SNAP!, my corset tore in two and my boobs leapt out. The whole restaurant cheered as my exposed breasts shook to a halt. Even before I could cover them, the stripper had my arms behind my back and was thrusting my chest forwards towards the drooling guys. Mobiles clicked, cameras flashed as she paraded my topless body round the room. Every guy had a chance to squeeze my tits and grope my ass.

"Hey", one of the Stag party again, "We paid premium. . . ". The stripper laughed, and hissed in my ear. "Premium means you suck him. . . "

"No . . I. . .NO!"

I tried to fight her, but she kept smacking me, and she dragged me up onto the table. The groom, standing on the table surrounded by all the folks with cameras, already had his flies down. . .Everybody watched, eagarly pawing me, as I gave "premium".

Nobody heard the door open. . . "Sarah, I got your coat, the little bast. . ."

SLUUUURP! POP! I saw my boyfriend standing at the door, just like me his mouth wide open. "Honey, it's not what you think!"

"OHHHH!" went the groom. . . SPLAT!

"OOOOHHHHH!!!"

I had stopped, but he hadn't. . . into my mouth, all over my face, my tits, even my stockings.

Without a thought to my condition, I jumped off the table and ran to the door. By the time I got to the street, my boyfriends car was already moving.

"SHIT!" I shouted, drawing the attention of the few people who weren't already staring at my still bouncing breasts, cream-covered face, virtually naked ass and messy stockings. The road was filled with people, which included a bus load of school kids and at least four Japanese tourist with video cameras.

I turned and headed back into the restaurant, just in time to see the door slam in my face - SMASH! - knocking me back onto my ass. . .

I had no coat, no money, I was wearing only knickers and stockings, had sticky white mess all over my face and body,and no choice but walk home, watched, laughed at and filmed by everyone. And even THEN I didn't get home easily, but that's another story. . .