Cafe Conception

For the tenth time this morning I caught myself swatting away my boss's hands. I had just started as a barista/waitress at a small cafe in my bucolic village, and was finally saving enough money to live on my own. Unfortunately, this new job came with a caveat: a boss who couldn't keep his hands off me. From the first interview, when he gawked at my ample chest and rubbed my bum during our awkward goodbye hug, I knew this older man was perv with a crush. But I was 21 and broke, and desperately wanted to move out of my parents' house, so I took the job anyway, with trepidation.

My fears were confirmed on day one. Jacques, my boss, was a big, boisterous 36-year-old man. He was very touchy-feely, as is the norm in our culture, but thought he could get away with anything since many women found him attractive. I just wanted to be his hireling, but he made an effort to interact with me as often as possible. The cafe was intimate and we were the only employees, so there was plenty of alone time during lulls. In the middle of my first shift, Jacques came up behind me when no one was around.

"I don't like you wearing these jeans, Celine. It's not the proper uniform for my waitresses." He emphasized 'my' while placing his hands on the sides of my thighs. "I'd prefer if you wore skirts. It's summer, and a pretty girl like you brings in customers. Okay, Celine?"

When his hands met my legs I jolted, but he held me still. I moved away once he'd finished critiquing and turned to him, still shaken. His bearded face had a stern look and his bulging forearms were crossed in a rolled button-up. Between his power stance and the 10 inches he stood over me, I could only squeak out a meek, "yes, sir," before returning to my post.

Jacques saw my unsteady hand, still trembling from the encounter, while using the French press and came to help me. He placed his bear paw over mine and pushed down.

"Relax, Celine, you're doing great for your first day. But remember, skirt tomorrow!"

He patted my pert ass lightly as he went to serve a guest.

The next morning, I nervously thumbed through outfits. I didn't want to upset my boss by not following dress code, but most of my options were for parties and not particularly work appropriate. I settled on a black pencil skirt and white blouse. They didn't show too much skin, but would hopefully keep me on Jacques's good side.

"Mon cherie, how beautiful you look this morning! I see you listened to me, ah?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Good, I like a girl who listens. Go set the tables now, dear, we open soon."

Jacques made himself a coffee and lit up a cigarette while I set. He watched me from the cash register, and when I bent over the tables to reach the far corners with the sponge, I could hear him let out satisfied sighs. My smooth, pale legs must have displayed themselves at each bend, and surely my heels popped out my round bum. I tried pulling down my skirt, but my slim waist made the cheap elastic ride back up every time. I hoped Jacques couldn't see my panties peeking out....

It pained me to admit it, but Jacques had been right about the skirt being proper for summer. It was hot as hell outside and the fans weren't doing much to quell it. Jacques had opted to undo most of his buttons and proudly showed off his hirsute chest, typical of many Frenchmen. He kept teasing me by asking if I liked hairy guys, placing my small hand on his pecs and bellowing with laughter as I got lost in his forest. Little did he know, I did like hairy men, a lot, and my panties began to moisten from something other than the sun.

"Celine, my sweet, it's so hot out. Why don't you undo some of your buttons to cool down? It's only fair since I have."

Jacques was smiling playfully as he flirted with me at the cash register. Even though he's much older and bigger, his crush was schoolboy in nature, and it was oddly endearing how much he liked to be around me. His sexy chest also didn't hurt....

"Jacques... I can't do that. That's inappropriate! And the customers!"

"Oh, we both know the customers won't mind. I'm the boss and I say it's appropriate, so why don't you undo some. It's hot out Celine, come on. I don't want to ask you twice."

"Okay..."

I didn't want to lose my job so I went along. My fingers fumbled as I fearfully undid the top two. For my small frame, I have a surprisingly large rack, and the whole reason I wore this top is because the buttons blocked it. But when I undid the top ones, the pronounced line of my cleavage became visible as my pillowy breasts pushed their way out of my blouse. They settled between one button that was fighting for its life, and bounced freely as I turned back to Jacques for approval. I was anxious, but wasn't sure if it was because I didn't want him to see me, or did...

"Good girl," he smiled and I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, a customer, why don't you take this one."

A Frenchman walked up to the register and started talking about the brutal heat. I noticed, though, that he wasn't actually conversing with me, but rather my tits! His eyes had barely left them, following left to right as they swayed, tracking a sweat droplet that traveled down the valley of my cleavage; and he wasn't even trying to hide it. He 'perused the menu' for much longer than necessary, which gave Jacques time to come up behind me.

"It's a scorcher out there, huh?" Jacques asked.

"Sure is. You two sure seem to be dressed the part, though!"

Jacques laughed and pulled me into his enormous body. His shirt was down to the final buttons and the back of my neck, exposed from my bun, rested against his thick pelt. He held my shoulders and looked down at me from above. Four eyes now bored into my chest.

"Yup, she told me it wasn't fair that I got to unbutton and she didn't, so I told her go right ahead!"

"Good lass! If she keeps it up this might just become my new favorite cafe!"

"You hear that, Celine? I knew the customers would like you!"

"Ah, Celine. A lovely name for a lovely girl," the man replied, grabbing my hand. "Jacques, why don't you go make my order while I get to know the lovely Celine a little better."

I was terribly uncomfortable having to continue this conversation, but was glad Jacques was no longer holding me; being trapped between them was terrifying. My thighs had formed a wet patch from rubbing together, partly out of shame, and partly from the tsunami of sexual energy that washed over me when the men spoke crudely about me. I know I should've stood up for myself, but I felt so weak between them, and maybe I sort of liked it... These conflicting feelings added even more warmth to this already sweltering day.

Jacques practically had to pry me away from the customer, who was decidedly enamored. He stood as a wall between us, and it was strangely comforting to have Jacques protect me from the men who frequented. This is something he would repeat nearly every day, since the horny locals viewed me as fresh meat.

By the time the second week commenced, I had gotten into a rhythm. I knew how to work customers, and was even learning how to work Jacques; or, so I thought.... He continued his flirtations and I played back into them sometimes, mainly to keep my job, but also because he really was quite handsome. I didn't have too much experience with older men, but I liked his slightly greyed hair, and that he was more possessive than boys my age. The power he held over me as my boss was seductive, and I sort of enjoyed obeying and pleasing him, something he required absolutely. Though, I could've done without the constant touching...

The second Friday, after work, Jacques called out before leaving, "I want to see you in my office, Celine."

I wasn't sure why he needed to because I'd been a good employee all week. Pulling my skirt down out of instinct, I walked over to his lair. He shut the door and locked it when I got it.

"Yes, Jacques...?" I whispered anxiously.

We were standing so close and everything felt wrong. I think it's at this moment that I knew he was going to take me, but I still hadn't come to terms with it. My knees buckled.

"Celine, I called you in here because I need you to do something for me."

He had his arms crossed again and wore one of his signature scowls. I shivered in my spot as I sputtered out, "what do you need me to do, Jacques?"

He came up behind me and put his hands on my waist.

"I need you to go to my desk now and bend over it, Celine. I'm going to fuck you, and I want you bent over the desk when I do. So go on now, dear, bend over."

"W-what!"

I struggled in his arms and tried to turn to him but Jacques hugged me tightly.

"Shhhh, Celine, shhh. You're going to bend over that desk now and spread your pussy so I can fuck it."

"No... no! Stop!" I squirmed more, but he held my wrists together behind my back.

"No. I'm not going to stop," he said calmly. I kept wriggling, but when he put his other hand around my throat I froze. "Go bend over, girl."

"But... but..."

"But what?" he replied menacingly.

The hand that was grabbing my throat moved to my skirt and he reached under it. He was pawing at my panties so I panicked and tried to move, but ended up spreading my legs wider, giving him more access to my pussy.

"W-why are you doing this?"

"Why? Why?? Why do you think I gave you this job in the first place, girl? Did you think it's because you're a good waitress? Ha! I gave it to you because I like seeing your tits spill out of your shirt and your cheeks slip out of your skirt. I gave it to you because I like bossing you around, and touching your sweet little body. I gave it to you because I wanted to fuck you, and since your little pussy's so wet right now, I know you want it, too."

No! He can't be right! It can't be wet! But the sloshing sounds coming from under my skirt proved my dreaded fear: that Jacques would know he turned me on. That he would know I secretly liked when he touched me and told me what to do. I couldn't hide it from him anymore.

"So go on, sweetie, bend over. Either you bend over that desk like a good girl and I fuck you, or I fuck you anyways then you're fired. Your choice, Celine, but it's the last time I'm asking."

Tears were pouring down my face and pussy as I writhed to his finger-fucking. After scrambling my insides, he pulled out his digits and sniffed them, then shoved them in my mouth. He made me taste myself, then pushed me forward.

"Bend over, girl."

I looked back at him trembling, but he replied with an intimidating snarl and shooed me to his desk. I knew he was serious about fucking me no matter what, so I trudged onward, my heels clacking on the linoleum with each step. When my thighs hit the wood, adrenaline was pumping; I was in survival mode but could not fight nor escape. I could only obey.

"Bend."

I listened and leaned over until my head was sideways, cheek flush with the desk. My breasts were pushed up against it and spilled out of my bra obscenely, resting under my neck and chin.

"Lift your dress now, Celine."

Slowly, I pulled up the fabric until the air-conditioned breeze kissed my bare ass. My plump, pale globes must have been accentuated by my pinched waist, and Jacques probably felt on top of the world watching his pretty prey submit so easily.

"Delicious," he confirmed while presumably licking his lips, though I couldn't see him behind me.

"Pull your panties down slowly now, girl. Make me want it."

I sniffled as I pulled down my tiny lace thong; its protection, though scant, would be sorely missed. The cool air chilled my chubby outer lips and made me shiver. To my dismay, my pussy was still soaking, and the intense feelings of shame and lust coursing through me only drenched it more. Though I was afraid, I liked when men thought I was pretty, and it was a real turn on to know Jacques found me insatiable.

"Spread your legs now, my girl, let me see your little flower bloom."

I gripped the front end of the desk for support as I spread my legs out a few inches each. As a result, my inner pink lips protruded between their puffy exterior. Jacques must have heard the river flow through my glistening folds, echoing as it puddled below me. I shook my ass nervously in anticipation and more droplets flew.

"Just delectable, mon cherie, incredible." I blushed. "Now reach back and grab your cheeks, Celine. Pull them back and show me that sweet, pink pussy, girl. Let me see all of you."

I reached back and pulled apart my ass, showing him everything. With my desperate, dripping hole awaiting his rut, I felt like a mare in breeding season. This act was the purest form of animal courtship: the female showing off her pink pussy to excite the male into insemination. How could he resist?

Jacques's heavy boots stomping behind made me feel feral. There was sheer terror from the impending rape, but also deep-seated pleasure emanating from my crotch. I was excited to finally get to play out some of my innermost submissive fantasies. My slicked pussy and Jacques's hard cock meant this was only going one way, so I gritted my teeth and prepared for breeding.

"Oooo, little girl, what a wonderfully tight pussy you have," Jacques contended as the tip of his penis burrowed between my hairless slit.

I tried to wriggle away, but it only pulled his cock in deeper. Our groans drowned out the static AC while Jacques encased me with his enormous frame, and covered my mouth with one hand. With the other, he pulled my hands off my ass and held them intimately in front of us. Admittedly, his body was basically what I fantasized about, so it was hard to pretend I didn't like how he felt on top of me.

"So warm... so sweet..." he cooed as his cock stretched my narrow walls. He turned my head and made me watch him claim me.

"Mmmmm! Mmmmm!" I squealed into his hand with eyes bulging.

He gazed back at me with gentle brown eyes that turned determined as he picked up the pace and clapped his hips against my plush cheeks.

"Shhhh, mon amour, just take it. This is what pretty girls like you are made for, baby. To bend over and spread for men like me. Doesn't it feel good, Celine? That's because you were made for this... for me."

"Ooo... Ooo!"

Of course, he was right; I did like it. No, I loved it! I squealed louder with each hump and he pulled his hand off my mouth to kiss me. We made out passionately and his beard scratched my face as his tongue dove in to claim my other hole. After his tongue, he shoved two fingers to the back of my throat and made me gag on them as he cored out my cunt.

"Yes, you little slut, you're MY girl now!" he grunted while driving deeper than anyone had before.

"Eee! Oooo! Aaah!" I cried involuntarily, with spit drooling out due to his esophageal exploration.

He switched it up and pulled my wrists behind my back. I was glad I could breathe easily again, until he started spanking my ass with his other hand.

"Yeah, girl! You're mine now, all mine! This is my ass! And this is my pussy!!"

"Ohhhh! Oh! Oh, Jacques!"

"You're mine, Celine, mine!!"

"Oh!! Oh! AAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!"

He jammed in one last time and held it as I pulsated on his dick. My soft thighs jiggled as I bounced back on Jacques, my whole body consumed by the orgasm he gave me. He was roaring as I cried and I knew that meant he had released, as well. It was confirmed when he pulled out and warm jizz slipped from my used pussy onto the floor.

"Clean me, girl," Jacques grunted while turning me to face him.

I looked at him with fear, lust and confusion, but he pushed me to my knees before I could say anything. He grabbed my hair and pulled me into his cock, then made me suck off our juices until he was satisfied. The cleaning seemed to work him up, though, and soon he was gripping my long, brown hair in a ponytail above my head.

"Deeper, girl, come on. You need to learn to do this how I like it. Your job is to please me, girl, you understand?"

He yanked up my hair so I was looking at him, and I nodded with his re-hardened cock in my mouth.

"Good girl, work your throat, now. Come on, Celine, do your job and I won't have to fire you."

Either out of fear of unemployment or my own hedonism, I'm not sure, but next thing I knew I was gagging down on Jacques's cock like my life depended on it. I had my hands up on his thighs and he stroked them with his free hand. I looked up at him with pleading eyes as I pushed forward to swallow more of his thick sword. Tears and saliva were pouring down, but Jacques just kept smiling and urging me on, clearly content that I'd learned my place.

"That's it, girl, that's it. Oh yeah, oh, oh, oh fuuuuuck!!"

Jacques let go of my hand and pulled the back of my head in as he poured down my throat. My nose was smashed up into his pubes and there was no way to avoid swallowing his seed. He kept me gagging balls-deep until his cock finally began to wilt and slipped out of my mouth. He told me to kiss and lick it clean, then lifted me off my knees. He pulled me into a tender hug.

"You were a good girl today, my Celine. Bending over and giving yourself to me; cumming all over my cock. You liked it, didn't you, sweetheart?"

He tilted my red, tear-streamed face up to him and made me nod, confirming that I liked it. I knew he was doing this not only to humiliate me, but also to deter me from speaking to anyone about what happened. I had essentially just admitted that I bent over and spread for him on my own volition, and that I enjoyed it, which was true.... I knew no one would ever believe me, especially in my traditional village, so I gave him a meek 'yes' and looked back to the floor.

"Good. I knew you liked me, otherwise you'd never have given yourself to me. Let's go home now, huh? It's been a long day and you'll need some rest before work tomorrow. Goodbye, mon cherie, I hope you think of me tonight."

He gave me a kiss on the cheek since he said my mouth was full of cum, then patted my ass again before leaving me to lock up.

Of course, I couldn't stop thinking about him that night. At first, I was forlorn. I felt like used goods, something to abuse and throw away. I thought it was my fault. Why didn't I fight him? Why did I just obey and bend over? Clearly I must have wanted it!

Then I thought, maybe I did want it.... Maybe I did like that Jacques was obsessed with me, so obsessed that he locked me in his office and raped me. It obviously wasn't a good excuse, but it made me feel a little better to think of the situation as a guy who couldn't control himself because he liked me so much. It actually started to turn me on...

I rubbed my sore cunt and fantasized about Jacques standing over me. I dreamed about him telling me to bend over the desk and rutting me hard until I exploded along his shaft. As my fingers explored my used pussy, I found they were too small to reach where he did. I realized I couldn't give myself the same orgasm he had. My digits couldn't whisk and probe like his, and they certainly couldn't fill me to the brim like his ramrod. I fell asleep with two small fingers barely filling up my needy cunt, yearning for Jacques's big body.

The next morning I was a nervous wreck. I wasn't sure how I should act, and I didn't know if he would fuck me again. I shivered, understanding that if he wanted to, he would. For some reason I wore a short sundress that made my tits pop and left little to imagine of my svelte legs. I know I shouldn't have worn something like that in front of a conquering beast, but something deep inside me craved him.

"Good morning, mon amour, what a beautiful dress you've worn for me. I hope you didn't have trouble walking to work."

He hugged me and I blushed bashfully at his comment. He must have seen me waddling in; it was still a bit difficult to walk after his hard pounding.

"You should start getting everything set up now since it may take you a bit longer in your... condition," he smirked.