Gender: Male Age: 39 Location: N/A
|Introduction: This is a reader requested story.|
Stacy woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. She got up off the sofa and walked to the kitchen where Amanda was making bacon and eggs. "You don't have to cook for me."
"You didn't have to let me sleep. So how was it." Stacy handed Amanda the letter and the check.
"Two dollars, nice touch. So how much of a whore did you feel like?" Amanda said, setting the incriminating letter on fire and tossing the burning paper into the sink.
"Burn the check too. Being treated like a whore wasn't even the worst part of it. One of the johns was my father."
"What! You mean that sadistic son of a bitch made you fuck your father."
"It gets even worse. He thought he was fucking a whore, calling me his daughter, and I was calling him daddy. We were face to face and he didn't even recognize his own daughter. When we were done and alone, he told me he would rather have me for a daughter, rather than well me. Think about that. He would rather have a hooker for a daughter than me."
Amanda slid a glass of Orange Juice over to Stacy who looked at it. "Could you make it a mimosa?"
"I think that champagne would clash with the taste of the vodka in your screwdriver."
"You really are a true friend." Stacy hoisted her glass. "To true friends."
"True friends." Amanda said clinking glasses.
"So how is your family doing?" Stacy asked trying to show concern.
"Dad has been taking mom's death hard. After what happened with my brother, he retreated into work and she retreated into the bottle. When she died he just got worse. His partners say he's been billing over a hundred hours a week every week for months. They also say he's been working more like one twenty."
Stacy remembered hearing about the funeral. She didn't go to it. Amanda's father hadn't gone either.
Stacy paused no knowing what to say. She remembered Amanda's brother's trial and lying an how it got him sent to jail. She was realizing just how terrible she had been and wanted to say something about it.
"I have to get going." Amanda said and headed for the door. Stacy wanted to stop her but couldn't bring herself to do it.
As Amanda walked out there was a courier at the door with a box. "I'll call you tomorrow." Tracy called as she signed for the box.
"I'm leaving the country at midnight."
"I'll talk to you some time."
Stacy opened the box and inside was a sari, a phone and an earpiece. She knew where she was headed. The phone rang and as soon as she answered it, the mechanical voice spoke to her. "You have a reservation for 7 o'clock tonight at your favorite restaurant. You will apologize to the hostess, then to the waitress, then you will go into the kitchen, strip naked and tell then that you have acted shamefully and will do anything they want to apologize. Wear the sari, and carry the phone, you are going to need all of your holes free tonight. No underwear."
Stacy paced around the house when her gold phone rang. She answered it and heard her father on the other end. "Hey pumpkin, are you in New York this week or LA."
"I'm in New York."
"Great, I was thinking we could have dinner together tonight. I am flying out to Tokyo tomorrow. So what o you say about having dinner with your old man."
Stacy was torn. On the one hand if he saw her the way she was now, he would realize just who he fucked last night. On the other hand if she didn't have dinner with him there was the odd chance that he would cut her off.
"I kinda have plans tonight dad."
"I do so much for you, is it too much to ask for a simple dinner?"
Stacy realized that no matter what happened tonight it could be no worse than what she did last night with her father and he would think no less of her.
"Okay. Meet me for dinner." She gave him the address of the restaurant and hoped her tormenter wouldn't mind.
Stacy was nervous about what this night would involve. She got dressed early and put on her makeup. She noticed that her breasts were still leaking milk and tried to milk the excess out but they kept swelling with milk and the leaking just got worse. She eventually put a panty liner over her nipples.
When the time came she tucked her phone and her black mailers phone into her purse and called a car to take her to the restaurant. When she got there, she saw her father inside talking to the hostess. She walked up behind him and held his shoulders, to keep him from turning around. "Dad, this is Stacy. Before you turn around there are some things I have to tell you."
She paused and took a deep breath. It was easier fucking him last night than it was to do this. "Dad, I've changed. I've been blackmailed and I'be put on some weight. I don't look like I did."
He tried to turn around, but she stopped him. "Amanda called and said you were having problems. She didn't say what they were."
"Dad. Although I don't look like I did, I know you will recognize me."
"Of course pumpkin, I would recognize you anywhere."
"No dad you wouldn't." He turned and saw her.
"I am so sorry for the things I said." He said to her. "What I said to you last night. When I said it I realized how hurtful what I had said was. It actually made me realize that we were out of touch."
The phone from the blackmailer buzzed. She touched the earpiece, "Stop fucking around with your father and start apologizing."
"Just a second, dad." She turned to the hostess and said, "I am sorry for the way I acted the last time I was here. It was rude and disrespectful. It won't happen again."
The hostess just looked confused and led them to a table. Stacy and her father shared an uncomfortable silence.
"I'm being blackmailed dad. He made me dress up like a prostitute. I didn't know who I was going to be fucking. He gave me drugs that grew my breasts and made me fat." She reached into her top and pulled out the milk soaked pads. "I was fucked by a priest. I was the woman dancing naked at the rave. The blackmailer had me in a dissolving dress knowing it was going to rain. This is to be my last day, my last punishment. It starts out with me apologizing. I don't know how it ends."
"This is what the blackmailer held over me that finally convinced me to start, and once it started I really had no choice."
"So what did they have over you that involved this restaurant?"
"I made some insensitive bigoted statements that would have killed your Mittal contract. I figured you would cut me off and that would be the end."
Stacy heard the mechanical voice. "The waitress is coming over. Stand up, hug her then apologize. After that go to the kitchen."
The waitress came over and clearly recognized Stacy. Stacy grabbed her in a big hug. "I am sorry that I was such a bitch. I was rude and mean. No one should have said the things that I did and I am truly sorry." Stacy saw that the woman was crying and she started to cry herself.
"It's okay. Don't worry. I forgive you." The waitress said. The two women were sobbing in each others arms when the voice told Stacy, "Enough already. Into the kitchen."
Stacy walked towards the kitchen, her long dark hair flowing behind her. She knew this was going to be the end. She opened the door and asked to speak to the head chef.
The head chef surprised her on many levels. She was used to seeing chefs in immaculate whites, with perhaps a dirty apron. His entire wardrobe was covered in curry stains. He didn't wear an apron and his checkered pants instead of being black and white, were black and curry colored. Some were red, some yellow, some green. He was unshaved and sweaty. His skin was dark and his hair was unkempt and wild. She could smell him from 3 meters away. He smelled of body odor and garlic. He was a heavy man, about her height and almost spherical.
"I'm sorry." she said, suddenly afraid.
"Sorry for what?"
"The last time I was here I complained about wanting a steak."
"I said that you smelled."
"No shit I smell. I work in hot kitchen. What else, I saw the video."
"I insulted your cooking." She guess what in the video had angered the fat man the most.
"Damn straight. This is one of the finest restaurants in this town and you act like curry shop in south London or fucking roadside stand in Delhi. I can see she really worked you over."
Stacy was shocked. This man knew who her blackmailer was and that it was a she.
The fat man walked over to her and with a powerful hand ripped the top off her sari. He started to roughly squeeze her tits. He bent over and sucked one nipple. "Sweet." He snapped his fingers and pointed to a Mexican busboy, "Get me a cup, and get the owner. He called dibs on the backdoor." The boy handed him a clean drinking glass and ran off to the back office.
The chef took his beefy fingers and started to milk Stacy into the glass. When the glass was full he handed to a surprised line cook, and said, "Make me the best chai I've ever had and you can have her next.
The chef started to feel Stacy's cunt and it burned. It felt like it was on fire. "Sorry bitch, I was chopping ghost peppers, then again I am dirty stinking foreigner who doesn't know how to treat a cow. Well cow, this is how I treat you."
The burning sensation got worse as he drove his fingers into her. She was started to scream in pain and the chef stuffed a dirty rag in her mouth. She felt like her mouth was on fire. It had been used to clean up some of the same peppers.
The chef dropped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was long and skinny. He threw her on a counter and started to fuck her hard. His heavy gut slammed onto her as he pounded away at her flaming cunt. She knew she was the only one feeling the pain.
The owner arrived. He had to have been a hundred years old. He was fat and wrinkled with snow white hair which sharply contrasted to his dark skin. "So this is the rich bitch I ass fuck? Her friend said she was skinny and blonde, not this dark haired fat slag."
"Same bitch. Her friend had worked her over real good."
"Pick her up."
The chef squeezed her against him with his beefy arms. She couldn't move. She was impaled on his cock and crushed against his belly. That was when she felt another fat belly press against her ass and then a cock violated her ass. She wanted to scream but the rag was blocking her cries.
She was crying furiously now. She had never been in so much pain or been so humiliated as the two fat men pounded into her. One in her ass and one in her pussy. She was pressed between their fat hairy bellies. She couldn't struggle, she couldn't escape as one pulled out the other pushed in. The chef and the owner finally came dumping their cum into her.
When the pulled out she collapsed onto the concrete floor. The floor had a rubber non skid mat and was covered in discarded bits of vegetables. There were onions, peppers, and cabbages. The floor was wet and slimy. She pulled the rag out of her mouth and looked up at the chef who was sipping his tea.
"Damn fine tea. Pick a hole."
The line chef was in his mid twenties and had a haggard look to him. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks. He dropped his pants revealing a nasty looking penis covered with some sort of red sore. He grabbed Stacy's hair and pulled her up. "Suck it bitch." He said shoving her face down on the disgusting thing. She took it into her mouth and started to lick it. It was a more disgusting to taste than it was to look at. It was scratchy and the moment it hit her mouth the foul stench of it seemed to explode. There was a bitterness to it that she couldn't overcome and if she had actually had dinner she would have vomited.
She felt a cock slide into her pussy. Then she felt something else sliding in next to his cock. Two guys were fucking her pussy at the same time. It was a unique stretching where the guys were taking turns fucking her.
"Go fuck her ass you faggot, I have the pussy, I don't want to feel your cock rubbing against mine. The guy was finally cumming in her mouth and she spit it out. He walked away and she lost her balance. He face hit the slimy rubber flooring and a bit of onion was poking her in the nose. She doesn't recall the exact series of events after that. She knew it felt like hours where the male kitchen staff would walk up behind her and fuck either her ass or pussy. She was glad being face down on the ground that no one was asking for a blow job. She couldn't seem to escape the taste of the cock.
Halfway through the dinner service the fat head chef walked up to her and placed a scalding hot pan on her ass as he began to fuck her again. She looked back and up and saw that he was eating a yellow curry out the pan. "We've been a bit behind tonight for some reason so I have to multitask." He was fucking her while shouting orders and eating.
"You'd better not spill my supper bitch." He said slapping her. He was pounding into her hard and she could feel her ass cheeks turning red from the heat of the pan. She wouldn't be able to sit for a week. One of the busboys accidentally kicked her in the head and tripped spilling a load of dishes over the floor. This shook her and the scalding hot curry poured over her back.
"Fuck! Watch where you are going. No more fun you fuckers. Get her out of here!"
Two scullions grabbed her by the arms and dragged out the back door and tossed her into the alley, followed by her purse and the remains of her clothing. Standing there was Amanda.
"I got some nice video in there. I think you've paid for your sins. I'll keep the video just in case."
"How could you do this?"
"Easy, you gave me access to your life. They make really small camera's now. I hid them in your apartment and car. I bought some software to control your phone. Don't bother looking for the cameras, I cleaned them out last night."
"No, how could you do these horrible things?"
"You made it so easy, you pretentious inconsiderate stuck up bitch. There are miserable people in this world who would gladly go through what I put you through the past couple of days just to a week of your life."
"I'm sorry about your brother." Stacy sobbed.
"I don't care how you feel anymore. I don't really feel anything much anymore. My father died this afternoon. I have nothing left."
"How can I make this up to you? How can I be your friend again. Is there someone else you want me to fuck? I'll do anything." She saw a drunk lying against the dumpster. She ran over and started to pull down his pants. Her attempts to get him off woke him out of his drunker stupor.
"No, this was never about me getting pleasure, this was putting you in your place, teaching you your lesson."
"Please you have to forgive me."
"No, I don't. I'm going away, not to London, you'll never see me or hear from me again."
"Call me. Please, just call me and forgive me."
Amanda walked away, leaving Stacy alone in the alley with the hobo.
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