BHM From B*tch to Boss

Discussion in 'Recent Additions' started by stevita, Dec 29, 2019.

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  1. Dec 29, 2019 #1

    stevita

    stevita

    stevita

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    A/N: This is a story I wrote a few years ago but never posted anywhere. I hope you enjoy!


    From B*tch to Boss
    by stevita
    --

    Another late night.

    12 midnight found Nick stuck at the restaurant as closing manager, and he was just about to lock the back kitchen door when he heard out on the floor, his closing server receiving one last table.

    “Hi there, welcome to April and Andy’s, c’mon, have a seat! My name’s Dolly, I’ll be your waitress...can I offer you anything from the bar?”

    He had to raise a skeptical eyebrow to her thick southern drawl. Mah nayme’s Dawlly, ah’ll be yer waytress… She didn’t sound that way in the break room upstairs, and she sure didn’t sound that way in the kitchen with the immigrant cooks. ¿El jefe esta muy guapo anoche, ja? ¿No, no pienses? Pues...a mi me gustan los gorditos. Now, Nick didn’t know what any of that meant, but Dolly didn’t have any Hispanic heritage whatsoever, so she must have learned her Spanish in a classroom. She was a smart girl--his guess was, she dumbed down on the floor so she’d seem friendlier to her guests. Charles, the bar manager, had once suggested she introduce herself to her tables as Dolores, so as to seem more sophisticated, but she hadn’t listened, and Dolly stuck. Nick could stand by her decision; April and Andy’s wasn’t exactly a sophisticated bar. Charles was just pretentious.

    Nick was doing some paperwork in the office when Dolly poked in her head. It was one in the morning now, an hour to close. “Hey, Nick,” she said, “I just wanted to let you know, I just served my gentleman at table 22 his fourth drink. I think he’s fine and Josue,” Josue being the bartender, “thinks he’s fine. He’s eaten and everything. But I still like having the managerial green light to keep serving. So will you go say hi to him?”

    Nick already knew the guy was going to be fine. If Dolly really believed a guest needed to be cut off, she’d say so. Hell, she’d shut down her station, alert all the staff, and call the damn Navy. Somehow, this table waiting gig meant the world to her. Frankly, he was surprised she was still offering drinks at this hour: most servers would just want to go home. He could never understand how she managed to keep going and going and going.

    Just for her peace of mind, he nodded his assent and went downstairs to talk to the table.

    There was only one guy sitting at table 22. Big fellow, working on a beer and still picking at several plates from what looked to be a multiple-course meal. An empty glass sat at the edge of the table; Nick removed it and held it behind his back. “How has everything been tonight, Sir?”

    “Oh, it’s all been great! Good food, good beer...the waitress is doing a great job, too.”

    He didn’t seem drunk. “Good, good, I’m glad to hear it,” said Nick, and caught up with Dolly on the patio to give her the thumbs up. “Pre-bus your table, Dolly, but otherwise, good job.”

    “He told me he was still eating, Boss.”

    For the rest of the night Dolly held the gentleman hostage. She swung by every fifteen minutes, “Are you still okay on beer, Sir?” as if they both might die if his glass ran dry. He was out by last call, but not before Dolly sold him dessert--”You have to try the chocolate mousse cake!” From the office, Nick heard her musical voice as she saw her guest off. “Well, I’ve had a wonderful time with you tonight, Mr. Smith, and I hope you have as well! Have a great night, mmkay?” Nick next found her sitting on the counter by the expo line, scrubbing the wall with a dish rag while he was doing his final walk through.

    “It’s chili. The cooks made a damn mess,” she said. “Is Josue still here?”

    “He left, why?”

    “He helped me get up here…”

    She flushed scarlet, and as he understood what she was asking him to do, so did he.

    See, Nick was a big guy, and he knew it. The other managers made sure he knew it with their cutting remarks. He didn’t have much practice approaching women, much less touching them.

    And he’d always been particularly fond of Dolly Parker. Any man would be: blonde and beautiful, with full, perky breasts, that little waist, and curvy hips to drive a man mad. Tonight, her long hair was tied up with a crimson cheerleader bow to match the dining room decor and her pouty lips were painted red-red to match her bow--had she reapplied her lipstick after her last table left?

    She was sitting on the counter with her legs spread in her short shorts and logo tank top, and the look on her face was pleading as she said, “I need you to help me down.”

    “Alright, come here…” It took all of his self control not to pop a boner as he let her wrap her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. It would just be inappropriate. She was scandalously young to him, at twenty to his twenty-eight.

    She’d never been shy about touching, though. The other week, she’d made a bet with him: “What do you think I CAN’T sell tonight? I bet I can sell three bottles of Caymus. If I sell three bottles of Caymus, you owe me a hug.”

    For the record, she had sold five bottles of Caymus that night.

    He lowered her to the ground and she smiled a little nervously. For a moment, they stood in awkward silence. Then, she flitted out the door with, “I left my checkout on the well. See you tomorrow!”

    See ya tuhmorrah.

    Jesus.

    The kitchen wasn’t quite closed yet, and he hadn’t eaten dinner, so he made himself a salad, no croutons, undressed. He really wanted to ask Paco on the fry station to make him a chicken fried steak, but he had his figure to think about. Maybe if he lost a little weight, Dolly would want him to do more to her than help her get down from on top of the counter.
     
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  2. Dec 30, 2019 #2

    stevita

    stevita

    stevita

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    Thursday morning. Nick hated Thursday mornings. Thursday mornings meant getting up early for an all-staff meeting, and having to deal with Craig.

    Dolly was already there when he arrived. Despite looking a little worn after three consecutive doubles, she greeted him with gusto and insisted she was super stoked to wait some tables after this meeting!

    He tried not to make it obvious that he was watching her as she talked to the cooks while tying a shoe that had come undone. “¿Estas cansada, Princesa?” one of the salad preps asked.

    “Muy cansada. Hoy se me olvido´ mis calcetines.” Once again, Nick didn’t know what that meant, but the kitchen exploded with laughter. “Tambien se me olvido´ mi ropa interior.” Again, all the cooks cracked up. “Dame un cafe´, para la cruda, ¿por favor?”

    One by one, the other waiters, hosts, and bartenders arrived, then Charles, and finally, Craig, the general manager. “Alright, everybody put the 50s together into one long table, and let’s sit down,” said Craig, and the staff quickly did as they were told. Dolly sat down right next to Nick and sipped her black coffee, leaving a rim of lipstick on the lip of her mug. Nick thought hard about naked grannies and puking babies.

    Once everyone was seated, Craig commenced the meeting. “Hi, everybody, thanks for being here. I know we’re still missing one or two people, but let’s go ahead and start without them. Now, I know we’ve been experiencing a dip in morale lately. And I’ve been thinking, how can you all respect us in management if you don’t feel respected in turn? So I’d like to open up this meeting as a suggestion box--” He stopped abruptly, and looked right at Nick. “Why aren’t you writing any of this down, Tubbo?”

    Oh, come on!

    Nobody else was taking any notes.

    A few of the girls on the staff laughed. Of course they did; they were enamored with Craig. He was the sort of blond-haired, blue-eyed, cut and lean, all-American douchebag women all fawned over. When Nick was first hired on, he really had wanted to like Craig, since everyone else seemed to. But the guy had a habit of wearing him down. Nick tried to fight back, he really did...

    “My notes are up here, Sir,” said Nick, tapping his temple with two fingers.

    “Oh, really? Then what did I just say?”

    “You want to improve morale by getting feedback from the staff.”

    Despite his correct answer, Craig’s stern glare never wavered. “Take out a pad and paper, fatass, and take notes!”

    Nick was digging in his bag for said pen and paper when Craig came for his blood again: “Jesus Christ, are you already sweating? It’s nine in the morning and about fifty degrees outside!”

    “You’re making me nervous!”

    “And it’s nine thirty, Craig; you were late to the meeting,” Dolly interjected.

    “Go and change shirts or something, you tub of lard.”

    “And leave the meeting? Then how in the Hell am I supposed to take notes?”

    Sadly, he was used to this kind of behavior from Craig. The fat-shaming started early in the shift and went on until the general manager decided to go home. Another server, Jessica, had once speculated in the rumor mill that Craig used to be a fat kid, lost a bunch of weight, and that nowadays his now-trim physique gave him a sort of sick superiority complex over people of size. A week later, Jessica was fired over a pocket ticket.

    Suddenly, Dolly raised her hand and spoke up. “I have a suggestion, for your box.” Fer yer bawks. “Quit bullying Nick all the time. It ain’t professional workplace behavior.”

    Craig gave her a pointed look. “Why do you kiss his ass so much? I’m the one who controls your life, seeing as I’m in charge and you practically live here.”

    It was true--Dolly picked up so many shifts, it was almost impossible to call her in, because on any given day, she was usually already working. Other waiters made jokes saying she slept in the storage shed and bathed in the three-compartment sink. Regulars asked for her out of convenience, seeing as she was there so often, she knew the menu and the kitchen like her bedtime prayers. Co-workers saw her bloodshot eyes and begged her to take a break, and the cooks called her la machina-- “the machine.”

    “It’s just real shitty, is all I’m saying,” she said.

    “Moving right along,” Charles cut in. He went on for a solid five minutes about how he wanted to class up the bar specials. He wanted to make mule flights a thing. It was never going to happen, but alright, Charles, you tried. None of the other waiters dared add a suggestion to the box; Craig had either charmed them or beaten them well enough into submission.

    After the meeting, Nick was left drained. He wanted something that was more than coffee but less than cocaine. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He walked up to Dolly and asked, “Can I buy a cigarette from you?”

    She quirked an eyebrow. “You smoke now?” Slowly, she took a pack of Traffic greens out of her apron pocket. “Wait a minute...you’re not taking up smoking to lose weight, are you?”

    What? Was that a thing?

    “Smoking makes you lose weight?”

    Before he’d come to this restaurant, he had never minded his size, but he’d been watching his intake lately, hoping it might get Craig off his back. And hey, if smoking helped…

    She glared him down for several seconds. “Don’t do it, Nick…”

    “I’ll give you a whole dollar.”

    “Fine.” She handed over one of her cancer sticks and said, “But just so you know, I took up smoking at fourteen because I was mad at my dad, and my dad is out of the picture now, and I’m still coughing all the time. I hope you don’t make this a habit.”

    For the next few weeks, he bought cigarettes off of her, and she always coughed them up reluctantly, with a smoking kills or you’re breaking my heart, but eventually he stopped because he couldn’t stand the taste.
     
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  3. Dec 31, 2019 #3

    stevita

    stevita

    stevita

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    The Thursday morning meeting would leave Nick on edge until Monday, the day Craig always took off. As unsatisfied as he might be with his job, it was nice to come in on Monday and feel like work had gone from being a battleground to a safe haven.

    Nick’s lenient managerial style, in comparison with Craig’s, also afforded Dolly the opportunity to slip into the bar across the street between shifts and get absolutely trashed, because apparently, nobody carded anymore. She usually brought along Colette, the only other Monday double--boy, were they a weird pair of drinking buddies. Colette was as melancholy as Dolly was cheerful, and her nose was always buried in her phone screen. She came back after drinks grumpy, bemoaning everything from her slow section to her unworkable schedule to the lack of clean forks. Dolly, on the other hand, got a few drinks in her and got unreasonably pumped for…

    “STEAK NIIIIIGHT! GUYS, IT’S STEAK NIGHT! WHO ELSE IS STOKED FOR STEAK NIGHT?!”

    He was on the phone, finalizing a 30-top reservation, when he heard her come in.

    “Steak NIGHT! Steak NIGHT! Steak NIGHT!”

    Mondays, he more or less let her run the pre-shift. Up until about a month ago, he’d gather everyone around table 47 and say, take it away, Dolly, but these days she tended to run pre-shift on her own, and who was he to complain about her doing his job for him for free?

    “Alright, guys, it’s steak night. Jay, Reba, y’all are new, so let me give you the run-down. For 19.95 you can get a 10-ounce ribeye with a loaded baked potato and a side salad to start…”

    As she was finishing up her spiel, he finished his phone call and headed to the line to order himself some dinner--stuffed shrimp today, no grits, sub fries, Cajun gravy on the side, extra Cajun gravy on the side. He’d been sticking to his diet lately and deserved a cheat day, and what better day, with Craig out of the building and unable to pass judgment?

    He was happily eating away on the line and had just paused to check his notifications on his cell phone when Dolly stepped into the kitchen. “Want a box?” she asked.

    “No, I’m...uuh...probably going to finish this after I’m done answering this text. Thanks, though,” he admitted, a little embarrassed.

    “Will it help if I stand here and root for you, or is that too weird?”

    “I...what?”

    “Oh, hang on, I think it’s my turn to be sat,” she said, and just like that, she disappeared.

    Steak night went off with only one hitch: Dolly might have been a slender girl, but that glorious ass of hers took up some space. Now, she was the kind of waitress who was always eager to help others: when her own section wasn’t being frequently sat, she installed herself on the line as a food runner, pushing her teammates’ food out of the kitchen without ever asking for thanks.

    And the line was a narrow space.

    Cue said glorious ass brushing Nick’s belly or the backs of his thighs whenever he passed her whilst checking up on the line cooks.

    After the rush broke, he gathered everybody in the kitchen. “Good job, you guys. The floor got pretty busy, but we all held our own, and I’m proud of every single one of you.”

    The waiters applauded, and he beamed with pride. If Craig was here, he would have surely said something to shoot him down, but that wasn’t happening today.

    “I want to give a special thanks to Dolly, who really carried the floor tonight. All night long, she jumped in the kitchen to play food runner, even though she doesn’t have that job code. So if you feel like she helped you tonight, I encourage you to thank her.”

    The impromptu meeting broke, and he watched with satisfaction as Dolly sat down at a corner table to roll her silver and each waiter stopped by to tip her out a few bucks before going to do their own rolls. It was almost like she was being paid for the lap-dance she had unintentionally given him in bits and pieces throughout the shift.
     
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  4. Dec 31, 2019 #4

    faremark

    faremark

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    I love this so far! Looking forward to more!
     
  5. Dec 31, 2019 #5

    stevita

    stevita

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    Thanks! Sorry updates are coming in slowly, I've been trying to edit as I go and work has been busy with the holidays. I'll try and get more posted today!
     
  6. Jan 2, 2020 #6

    Tad

    Tad

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    The great white north, eh?
    I love it so far :)

    You have a great voice in your writing, really pulls me into the story.
     
  7. Jan 3, 2020 #7

    stevita

    stevita

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    At the start of the dinner shift one night in July, Dolly walked in, looked at the floor map, and came up to Nick where he was polishing silver in the server station. “Why are you doing that?” she asked. “And why are you on the floor map?”

    He sighed. “Cesar Conway didn’t show up for his shift tonight, and since I was his reference when we hired him, Craig decided I could take his place on the floor.”

    “Yikes.”

    “Yeah, he said next time it happened he would, and these are his words, put my fat ass in the dish pit.”

    “Can he do that?”

    “I guess we’ll find out the next time Cesar skips work.”

    Though he tried to appear calm, he was nervous as all Hell about this shift. He was a few years and about thirty pounds removed from waiting tables and tending bar. Nowadays, he was used to checking up on tables and making sure the servers were doing their jobs, but between greeting tables, remembering to check the line, and running around the restaurant to deliver food, he was sure he’d fumble and trip over his own feet, and in front of Dolly, no less.

    She seemed to read his mind, and offered the perfect solution: “Hey, we’re section neighbors. Do you wanna just pool our sections together and banquet? You can start all the tables and check up on them, and I’ll drop off all our stuff. We can split the money fifty-fifty. What do you say?”

    It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders for the night. “I say, you’re a life saver, Dolly Parker.”

    Soon, the rush arrived, and they put their plan into action. Nick greeted all their tables, rung in orders, and dropped checks. Meanwhile, Dolly moved between the bar, the kitchen, the tables, and the dish pit with impeccable efficiency, running drinks, running food, and bussing. Nick watched her with awe--he was surprised anybody could go that fast while hauling around forty-pound dinner trays and such an impressive rack. Somehow, she did it, but seriously, didn’t her back hurt?

    Even when their combined section got full to the last table, he never felt weeded, and knowing Dolly had his ass covered on the line and the well made him feel freer to upsell. How about another beer? You have to try the loaded queso. What are we having for dessert? Yes, right away, absolutely. Tables were being turned at record speed and tips were crazy high.

    He did feel a little like Dolly was the shark and he the remora in their symbiotic relationship, but she insisted it was fine. “I love bringing people food!” she said at one point, and boy, did it show. Meanwhile, he was starting to remember how much he’d loved watching his sales go up and up and up as a waiter back in the day. By the middle of the rush, he was actually having a good deal of fun.

    After close, they sat outside on a bench while waiting for the last of the silver to be washed so they could roll it up. Dolly was smoking; Nick wasn’t. “We make quite the team, Nick Dillon,” she said. “If only we could banquet every night.”

    “You’d better not get too good at this, or Craig might get it in his mind to demote you to food runner.”

    At the end of the night, he decided to send Dolly off with all the money, because he was salaried, and also, he had a big ol’ stinking crush on her.
     
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  8. Jan 12, 2020 #8

    stevita

    stevita

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    It had been a busy Sunday at the bar, and the brunch shift had been beautiful. The sun had been shining, and bottomless mimosas had been flowing like a waterfall. Then, halfway through dinner, it had begun to rain, and now, at closing time, it was still pouring. Nick knew Dolly’s apartment was a fifteen minute walk from work. He also knew she had no car.

    He found her sitting at one of the tables on the covered patio, clearly exhausted after yet another double, but refusing to let her shoulders slump. She opened the Uber app, then sighed and closed it again. “What’s matter? You made good money today, right?” he said.

    “Yeah...problem is, none of it is in my bank account. I might as well walk home, since I’d have to walk to the ATM machine anyway.”

    “That’s ridiculous, you’ll catch a cold. I’ll drive you,” he insisted.

    The look she gave him with those big, baby blue eyes, you’d have thought he had cured her of cancer. “You’d really do that for me?”

    “Yeah, no problem, I parked in the back, come on.”

    As soon as Dolly got in the car, Nick realized what a dilemma he’d created for himself.

    Dolly’s perfume was intoxicating. It smelled like cotton candy, or maybe cake frosting? Great, now he was aroused and getting kind of hungry. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped dinner. One unsatisfied craving was quite enough, thank you. She shivered in her seat from the cold as he started the car. The other week, Josue had finally told him what ropa interior was, and it was becoming abundantly clear she had forgotten it again. “Do you want your seat heated, Dolly?”

    “Yes Sir.”

    He quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, just turned on the seat warmer.

    He drove down the block for about a minute before she said, “Turn here, please, Sir.”

    This time, he spoke up. “You know, you don’t have to call me Sir…”

    “Okay. Sorry. It’s just...you’re being so nice to me.”

    Soon, they arrived at Dolly’s complex. “This is me, second floor on the right.”

    Nick reached into his backseat and grabbed his umbrella. “I’ll walk you up.”

    Once they were at her threshold, shy Dolly from the car disappeared, giving way to Dolly in her natural habitat. Every muscle in her body seemed to relax. Rather than see him off at the door, she left it open as she walked inside and took her hair down. It reached the middle of her back, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

    She turned around in the middle of the living room and said, “Shut that behind you, please? Water’s gettin’ on the carpet.”

    Panic bells went off in his mind. He was nowhere close to within her league and had no business in her apartment…

    But had she not just invited him in?

    He did as he was told and followed her into the kitchen, his mind in a trance-like haze. Her apartment was sparsely furnished, he noticed: a table in the kitchen, exactly four folding chairs that looked like they belonged at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Over in the next room, the bedroom, there was a mattress on a box spring, no frame. Behind him, in the living room, there was only a beanbag chair. “Man, I need a drink,” she muttered, and pulled a bottle of Taaka vodka out of her freezer. She manifested two glasses, seemingly out of nowhere, and asked, “Do you want a shot?”

    “Do I--who’s buying you vodka?”

    “Well, I am now...I been working with you for two years and I was nineteen when I started, so what does that make me? I may not be good at math, but even I can count up by two. But I used to give Sonia from work some money to go to the store for me.”

    For a while all he could do was stare at her. Innocent little Dolly, now legal to drink. He could scarcely believe it. He watched her sit down at the kitchen table and pour. “Are you really going to make me drink alone?”

    With a shaky hand, he reached out and took the glass intended for him.

    “Well, sit down, dummy!”

    Still entranced, he sat down on one of her folding chairs and met her one for one.

    And then two for two.

    She poured them a third round and he swallowed that, too. “You’re quiet,” she said, and he got up and began to pace. “What?”

    “I just…” He was a little dizzy. The alcohol was loosening his tongue. “I just like you, okay?”

    Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

    “I know I don’t stand a chance--”

    “Nick, no, wait!” In an instant, she was out of her seat. She met him square on the floor and gently took his hand. “I...I like you too.”

    What?

    Impossible.

    “What’s going on?” he murmured.

    This was surreal.

    “You mean you haven’t seen the signs?”

    “The...what?”

    “I pick up every shift at the restaurant because I want to see you. I picked up the double today knowing it was gonna rain, and knowing you and your bleeding heart would take my ass home. I’m always trying to talk to you--”

    “I thought you were just talkative.”

    “All the cooks know I’m head over heels for you.”

    “HOW WOULD I KNOW THAT? I DON’T SPEAK KITCHEN!”

    He took a step back. She took a step forward, hand still clenched around his fingers. His back was almost to the wall now. Subconsciously, he sucked in his belly a little, and she took her free hand and brushed his side with a little, “Don’t.”

    Said, “I like your size. I think it’s sexy.” She rested her hand on his side and he stood still, as if one tiny movement would get him shot. “You have no idea, do you?” she went on. “I daydream about you for hours on end. Every time I’d see you put together a pathetic undressed salad for yourself at work, or whenever I’d hear Craig tear you down, it’d break my heart a little. Because the thing is, I’ve always liked my men on the heavier side. I just love having all this to feel up on…” She gave his side a squeeze and a pleasant shiver ran up his spine. “And from the first time I saw you, all I wanted to do was be your devoted little bimbo, not thinking about work or bills, or how I’m going to put myself back in school, or anything other than pleasing my big, handsome man, bringing him all the delicious food he wants, worshipping his hot body, and letting him fuck my little zombie brains out.”

    Wow. This...was definitely something to take in. But for the longest time, Nick couldn’t speak, lulled into a sort of trance by her words.

    “What do you think of that?” Dolly said, snapping him out of it.

    He swallowed.

    “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this.”

    She giggled and moved closer, pushing her body flush against his. “Oh, just kiss me already! You know you want to.” With that, she placed his hand on her waist, cupped hers at the back of his neck, and rose up on tiptoe to meet his lips with hers.

    She was obviously an experienced kisser. She parted his lips with ease, and as she gently teased his tongue with hers, that boner he’d been suppressing for months finally sprung in his slacks.

    When the kiss broke, she was smirking. Turning back to the kitchen table, she said, “I’m going to have a few more shots, but wait for me on the bed if you want me to take care of that,” with a nod of acknowledgement to Nick Jr. downstairs.
     
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  9. Jan 14, 2020 #9

    GrowingBoy

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    This is very nice. My mind skips forward a few years to imagine Dolly’s effect on Nick’s waistline. No doubt Dolly will fatten him up to her liking.
     
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  10. Jan 23, 2020 at 5:11 AM #10

    stevita

    stevita

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    Thank God he was off work the next morning. He awoke in Dolly’s bed, alone, to the smell of something delicious, and felt a sharp pang of hunger--yeah, he really shouldn’t have skipped last night’s dinner, especially in light of last night’s hard cardio session. He made to get dressed, but couldn’t seem to find his shirt. Ah well. Not like she hasn’t already seen and approved of it all, he thought, and wandered into the kitchen to investigate.

    Sure enough, there was Dolly, slaving away over the stove, and of course she was wearing his fucking shirt. It hung on her like...well, not a dress, exactly. More like a shower curtain. And yet, she still looked as sexy as ever. “Morning!” she said as she plated heaping servings of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and eggs and set them on the table. He could feel her eyes wandering his body and suddenly an arousal started building within him. “I went ahead and made us breakfast...feel free to have as much as you like, and afterwards...maybe we can go back to bed?”

    “This all looks amazing, Dolly...but don’t you work today?”

    “Umm, actually, I called in sick.”

    He could’ve looked at the smirk on her face for days.

    --

    They had become an item, but neither Nick nor Dolly let on about it at work. Craig was still a pain in the ass on the clock, but Nick found his days more bearable knowing that after he got off, he would get to play house with Dolly. At first, he didn’t understand it--the whole sex zombie thing, her urge to serve and obey him. The idea of any woman, or anyone in general, wanting to be a designated bimbo was a foreign concept. But he definitely enjoyed her attention.

    Sometimes, they’d retire to her apartment after work, sometimes his, but they never left together from the premises: she’d walk to the end of the block and wait for him to pick her up, lest Craig catch on. Last thing before he went to bed, she’d cook him a delicious meal, soothe his full belly with her hands and/or mouth, and suck or fuck him to sweet release. Then, in the morning, she would make him breakfast, catch a ride with him until the stoplight, see him off to work with a kiss, get out of the car, and arrive moments after he did, just in time to catch the latest gossip from the cooks in Spanish. When they were both off, he took her out to fancy restaurants and delighted in watching her gape in awe at wine lists and cocktail menus that were, in her words, so pretty I could cry. She liked to let him pick her outfits and show her off, and when she walked into dining rooms on his arm, everyone in the room could tell how proud she was to be his. Once or twice, Craig made a comment about how she hadn’t picked up as many shifts lately as she usually did; she muttered something about feeling under the weather.

    In time, Nick learned to appreciate Dolly making herself his personal plaything. Her body, her mind, and all her talents were his to explore and enjoy. He never had any unreasonable orders for her, but it sure was nice, having the adoration of the sexiest woman on Earth. He took care of her, too--seeing as she had given herself over to him, he figured he ought to treat her like a most prized possession. When she was with him, she was never without her alcoholic beverage of choice in hand, her favorite station playing on the radio, and his reminders that she was beautiful, awe-inspiring, brilliant. She liked to get drunk late at night and dance, a hobby he soon took a liking to. He started laying out her uniform for her before work so that she had one less thing to worry about. He brushed her hair, he cleaned after she cooked. And if she ever woke up clearly still tired, he’d offer to put on a server uniform and come in in her place. At first, he handed her the money when he came home, but eventually, they got to a point where they agreed to just pool their money.

    And after a few months of Dolly waiting on him hand and foot, Nick had to replace his whole uniform, belt included.

    The day he noticed his belt wasn’t quite cutting it anymore, Dolly had slept over at his place. She was still in bed, shaking off the sleep, and while she slowly woke up, he decided to step on the bathroom scale.

    He was 20 pounds up from when they had started dating.

    The flashing red number that would have brought him dismay in the past now excited him. Wouldn’t Dolly be pleased?

    He returned to the bedroom, where he found her checking the time on her phone, shaking her head, and curling back up into bed. He joined her there, gently rolled her onto her back, and eased his way on top of her--she’d told him before how she liked to be smushed a little.

    Her eyes popped open and she smiled, manicured fingernails digging into his love handles. “Well, good morning,” she said, voice raspy from sleep. “I wasn’t going anywhere anyway, but now that I can’t, what are you gonna do with me?”

    Later that day, he clocked in as the closing manager and immediately went to the line to order dinner: chicken fried steak, no veg, sub elote with extra paprika, extra mash. Craig, who was on his way out for the night, watched him with a condescending glare. “Are you sure you should be eating that? You’ve put on a little weight lately.”

    Nick shrugged, a little fazed, but refusing to show it. “Well, I was torn between this and the chicken loaded baked potato, but I can always have that tomorrow. It’s not like this job is going anywhere.”

    Not as long as Craig was in the dark about him fucking a server.
     
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  11. Jan 23, 2020 at 4:06 PM #11

    AmyJo1976

    AmyJo1976

    AmyJo1976

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    Came across this story this morning and am enjoying it very much! Can't wait for more! Keep up the good work girl! :)
     
  12. Jan 23, 2020 at 8:13 PM #12

    fat hiker

    fat hiker

    fat hiker

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    What a great story!
     

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