Author: calylia
Title: S3
Part: Chapter 4
Universe: Lemonade Paradise
Summary: the slow and consensual corruption of a conservative country girl to be a sex worker.  
Keywords: humil, voy, ws, M_solo, F_solo, f_grab
Created:  12/07/2003
Last Modified: 12/07/2003 (v0.1)

This story contains adult material.  if you're under legal age where you live, or you are offended by materials that alludes to sex and sexual practices, you should stop reading before the dotted line below
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Copyrights and Information

The story, and the characters here in this story is purely fictional; any similarity to actual persons and/or events are strictly coincidental.

If you would like to borrow one of the characters from Lemonade Paradise to work with, please contact me first.  

You can re-distribute this story to your friends and family as long as it is not altered in anyway, electronically or otherwise.  However, as most of my stories are still in draft form, it would be best if you directed them back to the original site for the latest version: http://www.asstr.org/~calylia/ 

This story can not be included in any compliation or website without express permission from me. If you think my story is good enough to be put on your website, then at least take the effort to contact me.

please send all requests and comments tothe contact form at: http://www.asstr.org/~calylia/ 
i appreciate all comments and feedback!

p.s. yes, i know this story is a bit shallow and pretentious.  i just wanted to do something quick and fun.  although, “quick” isn't exactly happening right now.
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Patti tried to remain calm and think about it rationally, but her heart was beating much too fast for her to concentrate.  She had two choices;  either stay in her urine soaked blouse for the rest of the night, or change in the full electronic view of her lecher boss, Mr. Davis.  She was not exactly thrilled with either one.

Patti was brought up in a conservative home in the countryside.  Her mother's strict teachings has taught her that she must be presentable at all times.  Staying in her translucent yellow tinged blouse that clung to her skin fills her with shame.

On the other hand, were she to change, she would do so under the lecherous eye of her employer, Mr. Davis, who installed a camera in the washroom, the only place where she could change.

On top of that, a young mother and her daughter are in there right now, waiting for her to bring them their change of clothes, in which case, also be seen by Mr. Davis.

The final clinch;  Mr. Davis had given her 5 minutes to resolve this before he starts docking her pay;  money she desperately needs to pay her rent in two days.
 
Her mother taught her to be always cheerful and happy,  but she could not see any way out of this situation.

"Ma'am?"  Patti knocked politely at the door, "I have your packages here."

"Thank you so much!"  The young mother replied through ther door.  Patti heard the doorknob rattle and the door open.

Patti was taken aback.  The young woman, waiting for her change of clothes, was already topless.  Patti was not use to the sight of nudity, particularly that of other people. 
"Ma'am!"  Patti unconsciously took a step back, "You're naked!"  Patti could not take her eyes off the other woman's breasts;  she had always thought that all women's breasts looked like her own.  While Pattis breasts curved and rounded at the bottom,  the young mothers breasts were smaller and perky, with little pink nipples pointing upwards.

"Oh it's okay,"  the young woman giggled "It's just us girls in here.  They're just boobs, it's not like you don't have any ..."  What astounded Patti the most was  that the woman made no attempt to cover herself even though she knew Patti was watching.  

Is it okay?  Patti's mind whirled in a frenzy, just because we are all girls?

Suddenly, it occured to Patti;  she could save time if she changed in the room with them.  Instead of waiting for the young mother and her daughter to change first, she could change at the same time, get water for teh bucket, and start cleaning.  Desperation drove Patti's mind, and she spoke before she thought about it.

"Ma'am?" Patti asked, "Is it okay if i changed in there with you?  I mean, I'm a bit pressed for time and ...."  Patti blushed when she realized what she was asking.  She's sure to say no, Patti thought, She'll think I'm some sort of a freak.

"Sure,"  the young mother smiled, "If you think there is enough room in here, c'mon in."  
Patti looked incredulously at the young woman before she realized her acceptance.  Not wanting her or herself to change their mind, Patti quickly grabbed the tote bag and huddled into the cramped washroom.  

The washroom had a sink on one end and a toilet on the other end.  Since it was for employee use only,  it was not decorated or cleaned as well as the rest of the store.   The toilet was stained and cracked, as was the mirror, and the drainage hole on the floor was rusted brown.  

"I am so sorry about this,"  The young mother began, "I'm Cheryl, and this here is Mariel."
Three people barely fit in this small room;  the young mother had put her packages on the sink, so Patti put down the lid of the toilet and put her tote bag on top.  Hastily taking off her blouse, Patti hoped that Cheryl blocked the view of her in the camera.

"I'm Patti,"  Patti replied, hoping Cheryl wasn't going to talk very long.  She is in a rush here.
"I heard what your boss said."  The young mother said sympathetically, "He's so mean! "

"That's an understatemen!"  Patti said with a short laugh, "but there aren't that many jobs that fit into my schedule.  This is the only one i could find."

Patti looked down and sighed; her bra was drenched as well.  She did not have a set of underwear in the bag, in fear that Mr. Davis would do something to them.  She did not want to go braless;  her mother had told her only trollops like her Aunt Helen do that.  

But it's not like I have a choice here, mother, Patti thought to herself.   Her breasts bounnced free from its confines, tasting sweet freedom as she took off her bra.  Patti could tell by the lines on her skin that she will need a new bra soon.  She had been so small before she left home that none of the boys paid any attention to her.  As she left home, however, she had been growing steadily, outgrowing one bra after another.  It was an unwelcome anchor in her monthly expenses, but she had to endure it.

As she bent over to get her blouse, Mariel suddenly appeared beside her.  

"Oh wow, look mommy!"  Mariel exclaimed excitedly, "Patti has much bigger boobies than you do!"  Taking advantage of Patti's position, Mariel reached out and grabbed one of Patti's breasts, feeling it all over.  "They're even softer than yours!"  Mariel continued.

Instinctively, Patti stood up, covered her breasts with her hands and backed into the wall protectively.  No one has ever touched her breasts before, and she could still feel those little warm hands touching and feeling all over.  A slow flush crept up her body, and she could feel her flaming face burning with embarassment.

"Mariel,"  her mother chided, "What did I tell you about touching other people's boobies?"  
"I'm sorry,"  Mariel replied sheepishly, staring at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Patti,"  Cheryl turned to Patti, "It's okay, she won't do it again."  Gently, Cheryl took Patti's hands and moved them down.  "But I'll have to say, I'm jealous.  They are bigger than mine."

Patti was shocked.  She did not realize that anyone could be this foward about their bodies, or other people's bodies.  

"Hurry up and put on your dress, Mariel,"  Cheryl turned her attention back to her daughter, "I have to go to work soon."

That snapped Patti back to her senses.  How long has it been since she was in the washroom?  Grabbing her clothes, she changed as quickly as she could, but Cheryl and Mariel were done before she was.

"Sorry again for the trouble," Cheryl apologized, handing Patti some small bills, "I usually wear protection when i go out, but i was in such a rush today that i forgot."

"I'm sorry I peed on you, miss."  Mariel apologized after a few nudges from her mother.

"Nono, it's okay," Patti refused the money, "it's all part of my job.  Last time a drunk came in and puked all over the stands ... You can guess who had to clean that up."  Patti made a face.

Cheryl looked at Patti with a thoughtful look.  "Tell you what," Cheryl pondered outloud, "here is the business card of where I work at.  The times are flexible, and I can almost guarentee you that the woman i work for is nicer than yours."  Cheryl winked.  "If you ever get tired of this job,  come for an audition and I'll put in my referral."

"Thank you,"  Patti accepted the card gratefully, "I'd appreciate it very much."
And with that, Cheryl and her mother left.  By the time Patti got back to the cash register, she only had two hours before closing. 

Then I can go home and finally relax, Patti thought with relish.  Patti had been rearranging videos all night.  Mr. Davis not only did not leave like he said he would, but came checking on her several times more than usual.  This made Patti even more self conscious about her appearance and what she was doing.

Going braless did not help either.  The air conditioning in the store made her nipples stand up from the chill, and in her braless state, the friction of her blouse on her breasts distracted her and she caught herself making all sorts of mistakes.

What am I doing?  Patti muttered to herself, and what is his problem tonight?  He's been following me all night.

Mr. Davis knew.  This was the first time he realized how well endowed Patti was, without her bra.  But he had other alterior motives.  

"Why aren't you sitting at the cash?"  Mr. Davis demaded, finally.

I'm not like you, Patti thought to herself, I don't just sit at the cash all day.  I walk around to make sure the videos are all in the right place, I pratically reshelved your entire store since I got here, and now customers can actually find the titles they are looking for. 

"Sir," she tried to say with an even voice, "I still have to finish restocking the shelves and put up the new releases."
"That's fine then," Mr. Davis replies in his infuriatingly superior way, "carry on."

Patti knew Mr. Davis was up to something.  He has been acting particularly strange that evening.  Usually he would not stay at the store a minute more than he had to.  But tonight was different.

"I'm going to the washroom," Mr. Davis said as he passed the counter.  That's another thing, Patti thought mournfully to herself, what is with Mr. Davis?  This has to be his fifth trip to the washroom tonight.

Maybe he has the runs, Patti giggled to herself, imagining Mr. Davis in the same discomfort that he had no sympathy for earlier.

Patti sighed as she settled down on the seat by the cash register, idly watching the flickering screens.  She was thankful that it was a slow night tonight, and there was not as much work to do.

One of the screens turned to the washroom, but usually Patti did not  pay much attention.  She knew Mr. Davis has a bad habit;  he pisses, and halfway, he'll start flushing the toilet, even before he finishes.  Sometimes he gets it right.  But most of the time,  he always leaves behind unflushed urine in the toilet, and every time Patti went, she had to flush first.

This time, however, Patti stared at the screen.  There was Mr. Davis, with his pants around his ankles and his hand on his unit, pumping furiously as the toilet was flushing.

Patti turned bright red.  On one hand, she was amazed that Mr. Davis had the nerve to show his all to the camera, especially when he knew who was watching.  On the other hand, she was furious that she had to witness him doing his business.  Not only that, she was angry at herself at not being able to look away.

With a grunt, Mr. Davis came over the toilet seat.  It's a good thing I never trusted that seat to begin with, she thought, imagine if I sat down on that!  He is so disgusting!

Look, he's not even cleaning up after himself.  Muttering in her mind, Patti switched camera angles to the basenment.  On screen, the movie of the week was a lesbian couple writhing on the bed, amusing themselves by licking each other's pussies.  

Normally, Patti would just switch to the other channels.  But this time, she was mesmerized by the sight.  Her thoughts drifted back to the events this morning, when she masturbated using her roomate's pillow cover.

Oh my, she blushed as she continued to watch the movie through the camera, this morning, it was like rubbing Tricia's face all over my private parts.  Although she had never thought about her roomate before, she started to fantasize about her.  

Maybe next time I could make her really clean me up with her face, Patti thought evilly to herself, after I go to the bathroom.  It'll pay her back for all the times she's been mean to me.  Or even Mr. Davis.  

Unconsciously, she started grinding her crotch to her seat, her body trying to emulate the feelings it earlier that afternoon.  She was so into it that she didnt notice Mr. Davis had came out of the washroom and was walking up towards her.

"Take that, Mr. Davis," Patti muttered with an extra grind of her groin.

"Take what?"  Mr. Davis grinned at her from the other side of the counter.

Startled out of her reverie, Pattis mind whirled to explain the situation.  "er ... Nothing, sir.  I was just talking to myself."   She smileed, hoping Mr. Davis did  not see the flush of her face, the grinding of her hips.

Mr. Davis noticed none of those things;  but he did see the desire in her eye.  "I knew jacking off in the washroom would get her going,"  Mr. Davis thought to himself triumphantly, as he moved back to the back of the store.

Patti was angry again.  She was angry at herself for not paying attention and almost getting caught by Mr. Davis in her private moment. Looking back to the monitors, she saw a man in a long trenchcoat downstairs.

The trenchcoat was short;  it cut off around his calves.  He was also wearing a large hat that obscured his identity.  

A small alarm went off in her head.  What if it was a flasher?  Patti thought to herself.  On one hand, she does not want to make a mistake and cause a lot of trouble for nothing.  On the other hand, if it was a flasher, she was reluctant to go downstairs to confront him.

Maybe I'll wait until he does something, Patti thought, staring at the image on the screen.  
Mr. Davis came by again.  "What's going on here?"  Mr. Davis said, in that infuriating superior tone of his.

"Mr. Davis," Patti replied, "There's a man here who looks like he might be a flasher."  This is good, Patti thought, his stupid decisions will help for once.  I can't go wrong if I do what he says.

Mr. Davis rolled his eyes at Patti.  "Do I have to do everything myself?"

"No, sir,"  Patti automatically defended herself.

"Good,"  Mr. Davis sniffed, "handle it then."

Patti muttered to herself.  Why did she say that?  Now she doesn't know what to do.  
Gloomily, she looked back at the screen.

The man in the trenchcoat looked suspicious.  He seemed to have just put something in the pocket of his trenchcoat.  Did he just shoplift?  Patti thought to herself.  Although the containers were empty,  it was still not a good idea for patrons to take the cases.

Maybe he is just taking the case up and didn't want people to see.  Patti tried not to rationalize it.  Mr. Davis' ultimatium echoed through her head.  "One last mistake," Mr. Davis had said, "and you'll be fired."

Looking back at the man, she realized that he had opened the trenchcoat and was rhythmedically moving his left arm.  Patti fumed.  Is he masturbating in the basement?  All the humiliation from the cleaning before caught up to her.  It's these type of men who make messes for her to clean up.  Before she knew what she was doing, she was downstairs.

"What do you think you're doing?!"  Patti yelled.  She put her hands on his shoulder in an attempt to turn him around.

The man literally jumped out of his trenchcoat.  Patti prepared herself for nudity.  Oh no, she thought to herself, now he's completely naked.  

She was wrong.

The man was wearing a white shirt with a nice tie, and bermuda shorts.  He was so suprised by Patti that he ran blindly and into one of the shelves.  The momentum of his movement knocked the shelf down.  Video cases flew across the room as the shelf came crashing down.  

Mr. Davis heard the commotion and came downstairs.   "What's going on here?"  Mr. Davis yelled.  Patti winced; that was the last thing she wanted to happen.  Now Mr. Davis is involved.

"Sir!"  Patti reported, "This man was shoplifting and masturbating down here."  

The man did not say anything, but it was clear that his shorts had not been undone.  Mr. Davis raised an eyebrow.  "Really,"  he said with great skepticism.

So I was wrong in one count, Patti thought, but I have his trenchcoat.  Holding up the trenchcoat, she emptied the inner pockets in triumph.  

A small piece of paper fell out on to the floor.  It was a shopping list.

"That's it, Patti," Mr. Davis yelled, pointing at Patti with an accusing finger, "You're fired!  I cannot take your incompetence anymore.  I'm docking your paycheque to pay for the damages."

Sheepishly, Patti gave the coat back to the man, who was as embarassed as she was.  He did not expect a woman to barge in while he was looking for a video.  Looking at the man's belt, she realized that the man was trying to get his cellphone out from its holster.

Overwhelmed with shame and guilt, Patti ran crying out of the store.  It had started raining outside, its gloom furthering Patti's grave mood.  

What am I going to do?  Patti thought as she waited for the bus home,, I just lost my job.  I hope Tricia is home.   I might even need her to pay more for this month's rent. 

"Tricia," Patti yelled as she walked into the door of her apartment, "are you there?"
All the lights were out, which were unusual for Tricia.  Tricia was one of those people who like her presence to be known.  

"Tricia?"  Patti looked in the living room.  There was a folded piece of paper on the coffee table.  That's weird, Patti thought to herself, the note is addressed to me.
Patti opened the note and almost fell backwards from shock.  It was a note addressed to her:

"Patti;

If you read this note and it's past 11:30pm, that means I'm in serious trouble.  Please come to the address below and ask for me.  If they refuse, be ready to call the cops."