She had borrowed the skirt.
It was a slim, charcoal gray, the hem falling to almost her knees. She wore a
white blouse she'd picked up on sale at Wal-Mart, had had her makeup applied by
one of the girls at Target in a free makeover. Her hair was the only thing
she'd done herself, but that was mainly because it didn't need much doing.
Her hair had always been a
soft, full, silky mahogany brown which fell beautifully around her face and
spilled over her shoulders.
The look on her face was
attentive, and showed no trace of the nervousness she felt as she walked into
the interview room. But then, she'd had a lot of practice in not showing her
emotions.
The woman behind the desk
looked like she had a scowl permanently embedded in her forehead. She was
plump, jowly, gray haired, and had thick framed glasses on her oversize nose.
She stared down at Robin's resume and application, then looked up at her, then
looked down again, then looked up, the same scowl on her face.
Robin kept a sort of faint
look of interest plastered on her face, telling herself that her references
would already have checked out or she'd not be here. Which meant her friend
Karen, who worked at Trump Tower, had lied about her having worked there.
In fact, Robin's actual
resume to date contained little more than working at Burger King, and at a bar known for
short-skirted waitresses in stiletto heels. She'd included both
of these, but it was the Trump Tower one she was hoping would get her
hired
The Royal was a very
expensive hotel and apartment building in downtown New York. The first fifty
floors were hotel and the next thirty were for very high-priced condos: condos
for the wealthy.
Robin was not, of course,
wealthy by any imaginable stretch of the word. Her parents had been middle
class, and she'd had a year of secretarial courses in community college but her
life had gotten sidetracked since she'd met Derek.
Derek kept trying things he
hoped would make him rich, but nothing ever seemed to succeed, and then he'd
jump to something else. Robin worried that was because he drank so much, and
smoked so much, but he definitely wasn't interested in
her opinions in that regard!
So one or the other of them,
or often enough both of them were on welfare, and barely able to meet the rent
in their squalid little apartment in the Bronx. And even then
mostly because he sold drugs. It wasn't the hard stuff – that was too dangerous
– so he didn't make that much, but it kept them off the streets.
Of course, if he didn't
spend so much on beer and weed he wouldn't need to deal drugs at all, she
thought. That was an opinion she'd offered up to him a couple of weeks back
which had gotten her a black eye.
“As you will understand,
Miss Evans,” the woman said. “Our guests and residents pay a premium for their
stay here, and for all the services we supply. That means they expect a certain
measure of respect in return in their dealings with staff.”
Well, duh, Robin thought.
“Yes, Ma'am,” she said with
complete agreement, bobbing her head.
“In addition, with great
success, and all our guests and residents are very successful, comes, at times,
a degree of confidence, even arrogance, which could cause offense. Our staff
are expected to not take offense. Do you understand my meaning?”
“Of course, Ma'am!” she
said with a certainty.
Being as deferential and
careful around Derek as she'd had to be these last six months should certainly
make her able to tolerate anything these rich assholes might throw at her, she
thought.
The woman steepled her
fingers as she examined Robin.
“There are several
qualifications for front staff,” she said. “Capability is first, of course. A
personable, respectful, and helpful attitude is second. Third is, let us be
honest, attractiveness.”
Robin blinked in surprise,
but gave no other sign of it.
“The owner of the Royal has
put enormous amounts of time, effort and money into making every single corner
of this building as pleasing to the eye as possible. The finest materials from
around the world, the finest designers, the finest artisans. We therefore
expect our staff to maintain that image of regal, subdued, sophisticated
beauty.”
“Yes, Ma'am,” she replied.
What else was she to say?
“In other words, Miss Evans,
you will wear no visible piercings other than in the ears, and those will be –
subdued and conservative. You will not get any sort of tattoo which is visible
over your uniform. You will not wear any kind of heavy makeup which looks cheap
or trashy. Which includes such things as bright red, or for that matter, black
lipstick or nail polish.”
“Yes, Ma'am!” she said.
“You will speak in a quiet,
respectful voice. There will be no high-pitched squeals or giggles for whatever
reason. You will smile in a friendly manner whenever any guest speaks to you.
Is that clear?”
“Yes, Ma'am!”
“Your hair will be neat and
tidy at all times, clean and in a conservative cut such as what you are wearing
now. Your looks are not why you are being hired, Evans, but they are a part of
it. If they change substantially, including your gaining substantial weight,
your services here might well no longer be needed. Am I making myself
understood?”
“Yes, Ma'am!”
Living with Derek had
taught her a degree of empathy, that is, recognizing what a person with power
over her wanted. It was clear to her this woman wanted nothing from her but
obedience. Which, she thought, was pretty much what Derek usually wanted, too.
Derek, of course, was
considerably sexier than Mrs. Abrams.
“Very well,” Abrams said.
“You will go to the desk and ask for Mister Tollins. He will provide you with
the forms you need to fill out, as well as your uniform, and will provide you
with a schedule and a start time.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Abrams!”
she said with unfeigned enthusiasm.
“Remember, Miss Evans, that
an offer made can be just as quickly withdrawn,” the woman said, scowling.
“Yes, Ma'am!”
***
Her excitement at having
gotten the job didn't win her a lot of congratulations at home.
“Sucking up to rich fucks,”
Derek sneered.
“It pays well,” she said
with a shrug.
“Because they have all the
fucking money and everyone else gets screwed.”
He was not in a good mood,
she sensed.
“How is the uhm, house
hunting going?”
“Fuck off!”
She pursed her lips and
decided to do just that, moving into the bedroom to get out of her clothes,
especially the skirt, before they got dirty and she had to wash and iron them.
Derek's latest scheme came
from a book and DVDs he'd bought on the internet which claimed there were
thousands of houses out there whose owners had gone bankrupt, and which you
could buy for a few hundred dollars, then re-sell for the full price.
He came into the room as
she was hanging up her blouse, and his eyes flicked up and down her lithe young
body.
“I know one sure way to
make money,” he said.
She felt a sense of
anxiety.
“I'm not doing a sex site,”
she said flatly.
“What the fuck do you have
to be ashamed of anyway? You have a gorgeous fucking body!”
“You're pretty gorgeous
too,” she said with a smile.
He did indeed have a powerful
body, and his face was handsome, with a rugged look to it. His head was shaved,
and he was, as always, a day past where he should have shaved.
“Yeah, but bitches won't
pay to see hot naked guys on the internet.”
“Gay guys would,” she said
thoughtlessly.
She gasped as he lurched
forward and grabbed her by the neck, then shoved her roughly against the wall.
“You calling
me a faggot?”
“No! Of course not!” she
gasped. “I know you're all man, Derek!”
“Fucking arrogant bitch.
You always think you're too good for me!”
“I don't!” she said
anxiously.
His big hand held her
pinned to the wall as the other thrust in against her bare buttocks.
“Fuck you have a nice ass,”
he said, stroking her soft skin around the thin black thong.
She felt his fingers thrust
up through the waistband and gasped as she felt her thong digging into her soft
sex, then squealed as he used it to pull her backwards, swing her around and
send her spinning onto the bed.
He was wearing a tank top,
and peeled it off, showing his powerful chest, half covered in a tattoo of a
dragon. He jerked his shorts down and off, and Robin felt a little thrum of
heat between her legs. He had such a powerful, such a … a male body!
He leaned forward and
grabbed her by the ankle, and she gasped as he yanked her effortlessly towards
him, her lower body spilling over the side of the bed.
Crack! His hand slapped her
sharply, stingingly on the ass, and she yelped in pain.
He peeled her thong roughly
down and off.
“Spread your legs, slut!”
Moaning, Robin quickly obeyed,
and his big hand thrust in between her thighs, cupping her sex and squeezing it
somewhat painfully.
“Remember who this belongs
to, bitch,” he said, squeezing and rubbing her. “You start putting out for them
rich hotel guys and I'll beat the shit out of you!”
“I-I would never do that,
Derek!” she gasped. “I love you!”
Crack! His open hand slapped
sharply against her bottom again.
Then he spit
on his hand and rubbed it against his cock, rubbing that, in turn, up and down
along the line of her sex.
He stopped, then undid her
bra, taking it off. She felt him gripping her arms and yanking them back behind
her, and she felt her wrists being tied together. That didn't surprise her. He
often tied her up. And it even kind of excited her.
He yanked her off the bed,
then, and gathered up her hair, pulling it sharply enough to make her gasp in
pain.
“Suck my cock, slut,” he
growled.
He pulled her in against
him, and she licked quickly up and down against the head.
“Open your slut mouth!”
She anxiously obeyed, opening
her mouth wide, and he pushed his cock in, jamming it in against the inside of
her left cheek repeatedly as he twisted her hair, before turning her head again
and then pushing it deeper into her mouth.
Robin braced herself and
gurgled as he shoved himself deep into her throat. He pulled her forward by the
hair and head, jamming her lips against him so hard they ached, and holding her
there for long, long seconds before easing back.
Then he started to fuck
her, hard and fast, jerking on her hair as his hips pumped in and out, his
thick cock moving swiftly up and down in her throat as she gurgled and
occasionally gagged, and fought desperately to breath.
She had considerable
experience with his rough sex, of course. She even liked rough sex, at least,
from a powerful, macho man like Derek. But this part of it, fucking her face,
was never easy because he was always too rough.
He pulled out at last and
she gulped in air, gasping for breath as he used his grip on her hair to force
her head back and make her back arch sharply.
“Hot little slut,” he said,
roughly groping her breast.
He pulled her back upright,
holding her head in both hands as he drove himself down her throat once again
and fucked her hard and fast, pulling out only to occasionally let her breath,
but not for long, leaving her gasping, dazed and light-headed.
Then he came in her face,
holding her firmly by the hair as she knelt dazedly in front of her, and
spraying his semen over her in thick, pumping spurts.
He laughed, then and
released her hair.
He left her, going back
into the living room to his beer, and Robin knelt there gulping in air for a long
minute before getting up to follow.
“Could you untie me,
please, honey?” she asked in her meekest, most little-girly voice.
“Who says I want you untied,
bitch?”
She smiled meekly.
“I can't make lunch or
anything if I'm tied up,” she said.
He yanked her across his
lap and she gasped.
Crack!
“Ow!”
“I don't need you to make
lunch, bitch,” he said, his hand thrusting between her thighs and squeezing
her.
Crack!
“I need you to do what I fucking want.”
Crack!
“Ow!”
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Crack!
“Oh! Ow! Please! Oh! Derek!
Oh!”
He chuckled and then he
fingered her clitoris. She felt his thumb sinking into her sex, which, despite
how rough or perhaps because of how rough he had been was already somewhat wet.
Feeling herself penetrated, as always, aroused her more, especially as his
other fingers began to skillfully stroke and rub and massage her clitoris.
“I know what a hot little
whore you are,” he said. “You pretend you're some kind of
fucking nun. Won't strip. Won't do porn. But you come like a whore when
I stuff something up your tight cunt.”
Robin moaned and writhed
there across his lap as his fingers pumped and stroked her, and the other slid
over her body, kneading her breast and then gripping her hair and jerking it up
and back.
“Let me see you come,
whore,” he said.
She whimpered and moaned,
the rising heat spreading through her body as his fingers manipulated her.
Sometimes she thought she
really was a whore, just like he was always calling her. She certainly loved
sex, at least with him. When he was pounding away at her she felt like some kind of wild animal! And all she cared about was that
hard cock punching into her!
He tumbled her roughly onto
the floor, then used her hair to drag her mouth back to his groin to suck and
lick him again. She sucked his balls into her mouth as he roughly groped her
breasts, and licked her way up and down his shaft as it hardened.
When he was hard he pulled
her up by the hair until she was straddling him, then sank her down onto his
slick shaft. His hands slid beneath her buttocks and he began to jerk her up
and down as she squealed and gasped and moaned in both pain and pleasure.
She leaned in and he began
to suck and chew at her breasts and nipples, drawing his hands back from under
her buttocks to squeeze them repeatedly.
He slapped her ass.
“Ride me, slut!”
Panting and moaning, Robin
obeyed, riding up and down on his cock as the heat spread and deepened within
her. Her breathing became more ragged, her gasps noisier and filled with
passion, and then just as she began to come he wrapped both hands around her
throat and choked her hard, making her eyes bulge.
She gurgled dazedly, eyes
bulging as she rode frantically up and down, crying out – nearly silently, as
he choked her, her lips opening and closing wide, like a fish as she came
light-headed again.
He released her throat and
she gasped explosively as he chuckled, grasping her breasts again – hard, and
using them to force her to continue riding up and down on his cock.
The orgasm faded, leaving
her shell-shocked, feeling boneless and weak. But he forced her to continue
riding him until his own orgasm arrived and he shot his seed into her
overheated belly.
Then he flung her off,
untied her and opened another beer.