The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Her Coffee Slave

(mc, ff, fd, ft, hm)

Synopsis: Erin is made to serve the people she despises, but her friends seem to have it even worse.

Foreward: I have launched a new Patreon page, that has original stories for members. Please check it out! I put a lot of work into it, and you can expect to find original stories in the same style as everything I’ve posted here. The link is

Erin stood at the cash register and tried to focus on taking the girl’s order. Looking at her customer, though, she a rising tide of anger. The blonde girl carried a real Chanelle bag, had elaborate makeup, and looked like she came from some frivolous blowout salons to get her hair styled professionally. She was exactly the kind of person that Erin didn’t want to have in her cafe, but ever since Julia had taken over this was their new clientele. Still, Erin was thankful that she was only working the cash register today. There were a lot worse jobs that Julia could have assigned her.

She glanced at the door to see her old friend Winter (who, at Julia’s insistence, now called herself Annie) working the ‘reception’ area. As though a coffee shop needed a receptionist! Dressed in a pair of sharp-looking high heels,a pencil skirt and a white blouse, Annie looked more like a hostess at an upscale restaurant than a barista. Erin thought back to Annie’s old style of dress: torn leggings, clunky black boots, and a comfortable T-shirt with some band’s name on it. Between all that and her dark eyeshadow, she gave off a “don’t mess with me” vibe. Now she was meek and docile, fawning over every one of the spoiled bitches that came into the shop.

The only holdout of Annie’s former goth image was all her piercings: three in each ear, one in her nose, and one on her right nipple that was very obvious against the tight fabric of her blouse.

The bell rang, and a single girl came in the store talking away on her cell phone. She ignored Annie, and took a seat on the inside bench. Annie beamed a radiant smile, and said, “Welcome to Romm’s Coffee! Thanks for stopping by. Here, let me help you.”

Then Annie knelt before the much-younger blonde girl, and lovingly removed the girl’s strappy pearl-colored high heels, putting them in one of the cubby holes behind her own podium. The girl ignored Annie for the most part, smirking as she enjoyed the treatment.

It was one of Julia’s rules that guests were not to wear shoes in the cafe—only the staff would do so. She said this was inspired by Japanese tea houses, and that it would make customers stay longer and spend more money. So far, that hadn’t been the case. It mostly just made it more natural for the customers to get luxurious foot massages while they were enjoying their beverages. Right now, Erin’s friends Cami and Ali were doing just that: going between tables and offering to massage girls’ feet. Julia demanded they ask for nothing in return: it was simply a way to ensure customer loyalty.

Right now, Ali knelt in front of a young 30s brunette woman in a tailored pantsuit who was on her laptop in one of the cafe’s sofa chairs. She was dutifully rubbing the older woman’s bare feet, with her head downcast so she could totally focus on her duty. Erin looked at Ali’s bone-straight black hair and her tan complexion, remembering the Chinese girl used to be a rising star at her college dual majoring in Chemistry and Physics. Now, most of the women at Romm’s Coffee treated her like some domestic attendant who barely spoke English. This was worsened by the fact that Ali had recently, seemingly overnight developed a thick accent and serious anxiety. She wandered around the cafe in mincing steps with her head downcast, quickly following the whims of their demanding clientelle.

Today, Ali wore an expensive orange silk kimono that was wholly impracical for a food service job. But then, Erin couldn’t remember the last time Ali was behind the counter.

“Did you get all that?” Erin’s customer asked her, shocking her to attention.

Erin felt darts of fear run up and down her spine and she nearly started hyperventillating. She hadn’t listend to the customer at all! Even a small mistake like this was an excuse for Julia to harass her.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat it?” Erin whispered, her hands resting on the counter to hide their shakiness. But it was too late.

She felt Julia approaching, like a great white shark was swimming up to bite her.

“Oh my goodness, Erin. Are you daydreaming again?” Julia said, loudly enough for most of the cafe to hear.

“I’m sorry Miss Romm!” Erin squeaked, turning to the older woman. Julia was maybe six inches taller than Erin—a pale German beauty with harsh blue eyes and high cheekbones. Erin whithered under her gaze, painfully aware of how weak she looked in front of all her staff and customers.

On paper, it was Erin who owned the cafe. But she doubted Julia would let her keep it much longer. The woman had taken nearly everything else from her already: her car, her shot at college, her boyfriend. But Erin immediately stopped that line of thought, because if she kept thinking about it she would cry.

“I’m sorry for airheaded Erin,” Julia said to the customer, who snickered at Julia’s cruel nickname.

“She just daydreams a lot. Erin, I can handle this. Why don’t you go up the street and see if my dry cleaning is done?” Julia said casually. “Oh and get me some sushi from the Cut. Bluefin roll, with brown rice. Can you remember all that?”

Erin resented the implication that she was some assistant who couldn’t run her own coffee shop. But the worst part, her secret shame, was that she was starting to get aroused. For some bizarre reason, whenever Julia humiliated her in front of people, Erin felt butterflies in her stomache. Worse, she got a little wet. Her embarassing state sapped all of her willpower to stand up for herself and she usually just took the abuse in stride.

“Yes Miss Romm,” Erin said, heading outside as quickly as she could.

On her way out, she saw her childhood friend Camille (Cami now) standing behind the booth where Kathryn, one of the new regulars, was seated. The blonde bitch reclined in her seat with a blissful smile on her face, as Cami massaged her neck and shoulders. Was it only three months ago that they had asked her to stop using their cafe as a meeting place for her conservative-leaning political group? Now the young Republican had practically turned their cafe into her own headquarters, using Erin and her friends to keep their coffees topped off and to give them free massages to keep them energized.

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely going to win against Measure M.. How could those people honestly expect free buss passes? Maybe if they spent their money better, they wouldn’t need to leech off the government,” Kathryn said into a video chat feed on her laptop. Cami blanched for a lot of reasons.

As a young activist, Camille had spearheaded the Measure M initiative—a half cent business tax increase with the funds dedicated to helping the extremely poor afford transportation. Now she was so busy massaging the shoulders of the bitch who was its primary opponent, that the Measure’s momentum had died. And because she was on a video call, Kathryn’s friends could see that the former champion of the poor was now just a servant to the rich girl she once defied. Kathryn called this an “inspirational story,” and never tired of finding ways of putting Cami to work. In spite of her family’s fortune, Kathryn was a notoriously bad tipper.

When Kathryn saw Erin walk past, she scoffed at her appearance, reminding Erin once again of how ridiculous she looked under Julia’s rule.

Her hair was once long, voluminous and brunette, and was now styled into an angular pageboy cut in a seafoam green color. Her complexion use to be more fair, but she now sported a radiant tan at Julia’s direction. Because of Erin’s Ameri-Asian heritage, her skin still had a beautiful honey-brown tone, but she noticed that the clientelle seemed to treat her worse now that she had darker skin.

On her neck, she had a red lipstick mark in the clear shape of a kiss—Julia’s lips recreated on her body in precise detail. It would have been silly for a man to have such a tattoo, but for her it was audacious! In fact, each of the girls in the cafe had a matching tattoo in a different color, a constant reminder of the ways Julia dominated their lives in the worst ways.

Her wardobe had changed just as radically. Her old style had put comfort first: simple dresses and well-fitting jeans, with cute sneakers or flats. Now, she was only permitted to wear the tightest yoga pants along with shirts that were several sizes too small for her. The yoga pants had a nasty habit of sliding up on her, so that anyone could clearly see the two globes of her tight butt. They also slid between her nether lips, giving the lascivious outline of her sex to anyone who paid attention. Thankfully, Julia usually allowed her to wear an apron that covered her front side, so that she wasn’t flashing her pussy to everyone in the cafe.

The shirts were even worse, though.

The company shirts were made of a tight blend of cotton and some other sheer material, so that anyone could plainly see her bra and skin beneath. Julia seemed to have them made with each girl’s measurements in mind, so that they tightened around the girl’s tummy like a corset, while leaving a little more space for her boobs. The shirts were uncomfortably tight and no amount of adjustment could lessen the pinching and pressure on her poor body. The collar of the shirts were especially tight, making her feel constricted and uneasy for the entire day.

Of course, the design was appalling as well. On the front side was clearly lettered, “How may I serve you?” and beneath that, “(be creative!)". Each girl’s shirt had her full name and age on it, along with embarassing “facts” that only served to demean them further. Ali’s shirt, for example, said “I am a master of foot reflexology, and I learned from the best teachers. Ask me for a demo!” Cami’s shirt read, “I dropped out of high school and Julia gave me a chance! She’s even teaching me how to be a laundress!”

The back sides were full of quotes and mantras about the coffee shop that Erin doubted anyone ever said. “Julia Romm is an inspiration. It is my pleasure to work for her.” “Working in this cafe is the best thing in my life. I want to stay here forever!” “Julia Romm is my #girlboss and my #girlcrush.” And other things like that. Somehow, no one ever doubted that Julia would have so many servile women obsessed with her.

As Erin walked to the dry cleaner (trying her best to ignore the stares of all the passers-by) she remembered how things used to be before Julia’s arrival.

* * *

Her parents had passed at a young age, leaving her a fortune along with the Golden Tree Coffee. Unfortunately, just as Erin turned 18 her Aunto Sophia came into her life with a made-up claim on her wealth. Sophia was in her late 20s, a beautiful but neurotic woman with red hair and a fair complexion. She was also an obnoxious, spoiled boor who only wanted to ‘look after’ Erin so she could spend her parent’s money on luxury fashion and beauty treatments. They were related by marriage, not blood, and apparently Aunt Sophia saw this a reason to treat Erin however she wanted. Aunt Sophia weaseled into Erin’s home and tried to take control of the girl’s life on the pretense of being her guardian. As though an 18 year old girl needed a guardian!

Erin resented each time she would see her Aunt come home with her arms full of designer clothes and shoes, which she expected Erin to sort away in her overstuffed closet. Erin was careful not to upset the woman too much because it was possible that Aunt Sophia did actually have a claim on the inheritance, although Erin doubted it.

This meant that Erin was often doing inappropriate things, such as cleaning the entire house up to Aunt Sophia’s standards, cooking her dinner each night, and even doing the older woman’s laundry! The constant appeasement only made Aunt Sophia more bold in her demands, and Erin often found herself massaging the woman’s size 6 feet after she had walked around in heels all day, bitterly noticing that dear Auntie had yet another fresh pedicure from the most expensive salon in their city. Sophia was calculating in the way she manipulated Erin by her use of money. One time, when Erin refused to do her aunt’s nails, the woman responded by getting them done at an expensive salon, leaving the $140 receipt around as a warning.

After a few months of being treated like a servant in her own home (the breaking point was when Aunt Sophia dared to spank Erin for spilling some wine she was pouring), Erin came up with a plan to get free. With some encouragement and help from her friend Camille, she bought several bags of drugs such as cocaine, painkillers, and weed and hid them in her aunt’s car. Then she made an anonymous tip that someone was selling coke to high schoolers, and gave the police her aunt’s license plate number. She got a call from the station a few hours later and feigned innocence as her Aunt Sophia realized what happened.

“Erin, this is wrong! They’re going to send me to jail for more than a year! I’m going to have a criminal record!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Aunt Sophia. But I don’t want you coming back here if you’re selling drugs,” Erin said.

“Erin, wait! You can’t—” but Erin hung up, not wanting to hear any more from her aunt.

With her dreaded Aunt Sophia gone, Erin walked through her family home as though for the first time. She was free! No one to impose silly curfews on her (Aunt Sophia insisted she be home by 7PM nominally to stay out of trouble, but it was really because the Bachelorette was on and Aunt Sophia enjoyed a massage and hors d’ouvres while watching it). No one to pick up on nights she had too much to drink at the bar (sometimes with strange men in tow). No one to spend her family fortune, making her practically beg for the little money she needed to survive!

Looking at her finances, Erin saw that Aunt Sophia made a noticeable dent. Particularly when she withdrew $50,000 after her arrest presumably to pay for a lawyer. Still, Erin was guaranteed a life of comfort if she budgeted, worked, and avoided obvious pitfalls and liabilities.

Erin then absorbed herself in her studies and her small group of friends. They were the outcasts of the school—kids who lived in a rich neighborhood but weren’t in the plutocracy themselves. While other kids drove Bentleys to school, Erin drove a more modest BMW and Allison and Camille usually walked. On weekdays, they would study or go to restaurants and on weekends they would go to concerts by alternative bands at hip, underground spots.

Erin was careful to stay away from drugs and alcohol, knowing that one slip-up could cause the state to see her as a delinquent and return her horrid Aunt Sophia to her life. So Erin’s house wasn’t the stoner druggie hangout that a lot of students had when their parents were out of the picture. It was more of a Camelot, a place where people could gather and talk about ideas and school and recent events.

It was around this time she met Ronnie and they started dating. She was smitten with his unruly brown hair, his big beard and his humor. Although she liked him, she didn’t want to lose her virginity just yet so the most they had was very frustrating encounters where she’d send him off before things got too heated.

Now she wished that she had at least made love to him before Julia had ruined their relationship in the most awful way.

The Golden Tree was humming along at that time. It was the main spot for people to hang out that didn’t fit into the mold of their rich, Orange County-esque surroundings. They’d have poetry nights, live performances, live music, and it was also a place for people with liberal politics to gather and talk. She saw it as a very European spot, where people weren’t expected to spend much money and could just hang out and learn.

At her graduation, she knew she couldn’t maintain the place and she would have to hire a replacement manager. To this day, she didn’t understand why she hired Julia Romm. The woman strolled in like she owned the place, immediately commenting on how the floors hadn’t been mopped very well. Camille glared at her, and Erin only murmured a weak excuse about how they’d been busy.

“Really? This is busy for you?” Julia said, looking around the cafe with thinly-veiled sarcasm. There were only a few people there, and Camille and Ali were both seated at the same table chatting away with their friends.

“Anyway, I’m here for the position. You’re the owner, I take it?” Julia said, addressing Erin.

“Yes,” Erin responded, offering her hand. Julia, instead of shaking Erin’s hand, put a glossy headshot of herself into it.

It looked like a headshot from a modelling portfolio. In it, Julia made a challenging glare at the camera as her eyebrows formed a cruel curve and her plump lips curved into a defiant frown. Julia was beautiful in a severe way, like an aristocratic ice queen who had many admirers but never a single lover.

The photo was now in Erin’s tiny closet of a room, blown up several times so that Julia was constantly glowering at her in her private moments. Part of her morning ritual was to bow her head to the photo and think of three different things she could do to make Julia happier that day and write them on a piece of paper the woman would randomly inspect. Any duplicates would result in a harsh punishment.

“Uh, thanks. I don’t think I have time for an interview right now, I have a date—” Erin started, but Julia cut her off with an upraised hand.

“This is the only time I have. Let’s just start, I already have another offer and I just figured this one would be nice to check out before. Let’s go,” Julia explained.

Erin felt put on the spot, but figured it wouldn’t kill her to be 15 minutes late to her date with Ronnie. She noticed Julia’s tailored black slacks, high heeled shoes and a white blouse and figured that she was a professional, and she might have a good eye to improve the business. So she invited Julia to the cramped back room and started their interview.

Erin was on her back foot in the interview almost immediately. Julia was a seasoned negotiator, and had all the right questions to make Erin squirm. She felt totally inept and kept fumbling for words.

“How many people do you serve a day? Really? That few? What’s your monthly profit? Wow, how can you afford to run this place on so little money? How did YOU get to be the owner of this place?”

When Erin answered that last question, it was as though something clicked in Juilia’s mind. It was clear she saw Erin as some inept child who was running her family’s business into the ground, and Julia was the seasoned professional that Erin needed to save it.

“Listen, I’m willing to help, but I need reasonable compensation,” Julia told Erin before the girl had even offered her the job.

“I’ll want $60,000 a year after taxes, full medical and dental insurance, control of tip distribution, a company car, and full control of the cafe: its decor, its prices, its company policy. After a year, if things go well, I’ll want to be part owner in it so I have a stake in its success.”

Erin flared her nostrils at the woman’s demands. The cafe barely made $60,000 a year and less than half of that was profit! There was no way Erin could afford to pay this woman what she wanted. She would have to find a cheaper option.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I don’t think—” Erin started.

“I know, you’re having doubts. That’s normal. But what if I double this cafe’s earnings? Would I be worth the money then?” Julia demanded.

“Yes,” Erin admitted, looking down at Julia’s headshot. How did she look so perfect?

“Great, you have some business sense. Anyway, here’s a DVD presentation on what I’ve done with other places. 200% revenue increases, franchising, that sort of thing. You watch this and tell me your decision,” Julia remarked, popping a blank CD into Erin’s laptop.

The first thing that popped up was a silly logo of a cartoon bird pecking away at a worm, perched on top of a branch that read “The Romm Method.” Erin found the video very boring. It felt like some fluff reality show with high production values.

The story was always the same. Julia came to a struggling restaurant or cafe, where the employees were lazy or absentminded. Julia would start by firing certain employees (usually the unattractive ones, Erin dimly noticed) and re-training the ones who stayed on. Although the employees balked at first, Julia would always bring them in line until they were the ideal employees.

In one example, there was a girl named Andrea working the front desk in a tattoo parlor who refused to get a single tattoo. She was a tall, slender girl with pale skin and dark hair. An aspiring model, she was short tempered and highly critical of the tattoo artist’s work. In the first interview, Andrea said that any tattoos would ruin her modelling career and that they made women look trashy and ‘branded.’

By the time Julia had worked her magic, though, the girl got two elaborate full sleeve tattoos containing images like thorny vines and hummingbirds drinking from flowers. Far from being critical, she was a walking billboard for the tattoo artist now sporting tattoos on nearly every inch of her body. She also had several piercings in each ear, in her nose, her eyebrow, her lip and even her tongue. She wore midnight black eyeshadow and dark plum lipstick, along with a dark blush that all accentuated her pale skin and shimmering green eyes. She gave a serene smile almost constantly in a way Erin found unnerving.

Barry, the shop owner, gave the closing interview with Andrea sitting to his side, two legs draped across his lap admiring and slowly running her hands across her own tattoos. She wore a sheer top and a black skirt that showed a lot of leg, along with open-toed platform sandals. Her feet were not tattooed whatsoever from the ankle down, creating a sharp contrast with the falling amber leaves and bird sillhouetes that decorated her toned calves.

Close-up shots revealed that the words “Barry Glaston” were woven into the design on many of her tattoos: stylistically stretched so they looked like the vine to a flower, or as a black border that surrounded an abstract pattern, and many other not-so-subtle ways.

“The difference is unbelievable. We get more clients than I can handle! And having Andi here advertize for me has been huge. Here, babe, show them my signature,” Barry said.

Andi blushed, but took her legs from his lap and turned her back to the camera. Written plainly across the nape of her neck in large letters was, “WORKED BY BARRY GLASTON.” She turned again and showed the backs of her dainty hands. Her left hand read, “BARRY GLASTON TATTOOS” in cursive print, obviously a copy of his own handwriting. Her right hand read, “323-555-5474.”

Andi took a seat in the same position as last time, and Barry rested one large hand posessively on her knee. Erin was struck by their age difference: Andi looked barely old enough to drink alcohol and Barry was clearly middle-aged. And why was he wearing a wedding ring when Andi clearly wasn’t?

“I owe everything to Julia. She’s worth every cent of her fee, and I wish I found her years ago.” Barry explained.

The film cut to a different location, and some B music of drumming picked up. Erin felt very tired all of a sudden in the cramped, warm room. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Wake up!”

Julia shook Erin awake somewhat violently. Blushing, Erin wiped some drool from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Erin said, totally flustered.

“Whatever. So you saw the DVD. You’ll give me the job now?” Julia asked.

Erin wanted to say no—she found the DVD kind of over-the-top and creepy. But as Julia stared her down, she felt nervous and unsure of herself.

“Yeah, you can have the job,” Erin said. Julia seemed unsurprised.

“Great. I’ll bring in the paperwork tomorrow. I’ll need to meet with everyone who works here individually, for performance evaluations.

* * *

That was the day her life changed.

Almost immediately, Julia began calling the shots at the cafe. It unfolded this way: Erin and her friends hated listening to Julia and complained about her constantly, but whenever she asked them to do something they would hop to it. She started with small and even productive demands: higher standards for cleanliness, better suppliers for their coffee and pastries, and implementing daily specials to drive business.

Every day Erin wanted to say something to assert herself, but she started getting anxious whenever she tried. In fact, without really noticing, each of the girls at the cafe became less outgoing and more acquiescent in their own lives. Winter had toned down her goth style at her parents’ insistence. Allison had slipped from her place at top of her class which shook her confidence, and Camille started taking a back seat on the drive to pass Measure M.

In those early days, the girls could overlook Julia’s bossy personality and her sometimes personal requests. The first such request was that someone in the cafe take Julia’s car to get cleaned and detailed each week. The girls knew that this wasn’t a normal thing, but Julia browbeat them so much that it was just easier for one girl to suck it up and do it. But the demands only got worse from there.

Without realizing she was doing it, whenever Erin thought about objecting to Julia she enterred some kind of dysphoric state. Her head ached and her stomache heaved, and she had awful thoughts about being charged with a crime and thrown in jail. Months later she would remember all the times this happened. At the time, though, she would forget about each state so it was puzzling to her why she kept obeying Julia no matter what she said.

Any attempt to remember would trigger the dysphoria again.

Erin was also slow to notice the extent of the changes because she was so focused on her own faltering relationship with Ronnie. It seemed like every time they were going to hang out, Julia would push some work onto Erin’s plate and she would have to cancel the date. On top of that, Erin could rarely muster the energy to go to the shows she used to enjoy. After work, she would usually just sit on the couch and watch stupid reality TV shows about rich families like The Real Princesses of Sunset.

She was also constantly under stress from paying Julia out of her own pocket since the cafe’s earnings hadn’t increased since she hired the woman. Each month, she would have to withdraw over $3,000 from her own savings to pad Julia’s paycheck. All of these factors lead to fights with Ronnie where he said she didn’t have time for him anymore, and she tried to argue that it wasn’t like that.

One day, she walked into the back office to see Winter brushing Julia’s hair as Julia worked on some spreadsheets. Erin’s friend seemed very embarassed to be caught in this position, but continued brushing Julia’s hair regardless.

“Oh, Erin, I’m glad you’re here. I’m changing the wages for the employees, and I wanted you to be the first to know,” Julia said, not looking up from her spreadsheets. There was no seat, so Erin was left standing to her side.

“Okay, what do you have in mind?” Erin asked.

“Well, in our state you only have to pay someone $2.25 an hour if they get tips. I checked with the Labor board, and we qualify for that wage. So from now on, everyone at the cafe will make $2.25 an hour,” Julia explained. Erin saw Winter clench her fist, yanking the brush through Julia’s hair.

“Ow! Be careful!” Julia exclaimed, turning to glare at Winter, who apologized immediately.

“Julia, I think people here are worth more than $2.25 an hour! These are my friends, I don’t want to pay them slave wages,” Erin said.

“Yeah, that’s the problem: they’re your friends. I’m not their friend, I’m their boss. This is what’s best for the cafe,” Julia responded, staring Erin down.

“What if they quit?” Erin murmured, staring down at the ground to avoid meeting Julia’s gaze. She felt like such an idiot not being able to articulate her disgust.

Julia laughed.

“Trust me, they won’t quit. But we can see. Winter, do you accept this pay cut?” Julia said with mock sweetness.

“Yes Miss Romm,” Winter said through gritted teeth. Erin gave her a quizzical look.

“And would you keep working here, for ten years if I asked you to?” Julia said.

“Of course!” Winter answered cheerfully. Erin noticed that the girl’s knees were shaking and all the muscles in her legs were tensed up.

“Julia—” Erin started.

“That’s MISS ROMM,” Julia answered, resting her chin one one finger.

“Miss Romm,” Erin immediately corrected herself, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Her temples were searing in pain and she thought she might vomit. Still, she summoned all her courage and spoke up.

“I really don’t agree with this. This isn’t the direction I want the Golden Tree going.”

Julia only smiled at her in response. The smile was victory and condescention and a mysterious aura of absolute power.

“That’s the other thing, Erin. We’re going to change the name,” she said, as though Erin had never objected in the first place.

As Erin listened to all the things that would change, she wanted to scream out and fire the awful woman. As it was, she could barely stand for the agony her body was in. So she could only listen passively as Julia systematically laid out how she would destroy Erin’s accomplishments and make her do the things she dreaded the most. Erin smiled politely the entire time, at Julia’s request.

“Invite Ronnie over tonight so you can unwind, I know this day has been stressful for you,” Julia said sympathetically as she dismissed Erin. Erin was nearly hysterical as she walked out of the break room, while Winter (now Annie) stayed behind brushing Julia’s hair.

Erin looked at the decor of the place as it was now: understated wood and concrete with antique furnishings and eclectic artwork. How much would it cost to install the heated bamboo floors Julia wanted? Or to change their entire electric wiring to create the ambiance lighting like she requested? She saw Camille pouring a shot of espresso and couldn’t imagine telling her about the pay cut. Allison meanwhile was standing near the sink looking through her flash cards, although the girl was careless with anger and muttering insults to herself for not getting them right. With a long sigh, Erin left the cafe and called Ronnie up to invite him over to her place that night.

It was the greatest humiliation that Julia had subjected her to so far.

She spent several hours doing her hair and makeup to perfection. In the end, she loved her appearance: girlish and smart with cleverly applied makeup that made her look attractive but not slutty or overly sexual. She spent a long time curling her hair and giving it volume so that she had a more bold appearance.

When Ronnie came over, he was vocal about how good she looked. They kissed and cuddled and Erin said how sorry she was to have been missing him. He was mad at first, but softened under her affection, and soon they were making out passionately on the couch as some idiotic TV show droned in the background. Erin tentatively touched his crotch and felt his hardness. He rested his hand on her sex, which was exciting enough for the young virgin.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Erin’s heart dropped. She knew already who it was. Straightening up her hair and her shirt, she walked to the front door and opened it to see Julia on the porch dressed like she was going on a hot date.

The woman looked beautiful, to Erin’s dread. She had on a bright red dress that clung to her tight body, showing off her ample cleavage and her toned legs. She must have been wearing diamond earrings, and her little leather clutch seemed like it cost thousands of dollars. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her long neck and making her eyes look bigger. She carried with her a bottle of expensive wine and regarded Erin cooly.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Julia said.

“...Sure,” Erin said. Her pulse began racing and she realized she was in danger right now.

“Thanks!” Julia said, setting her clutch down. She handed Erin the bottle and told her to pour two glasses and bring them to the living room along with the bottle.

“Oh, and take all that makeup off, you look cheap. And wet your hair and put it into a pony tail,” Julia ordered. Erin grimaced—she would look plain in a ponytail and no makeup! And the water would undo all the hard work she did to curl her hair. Nonetheless, she obeyed Julia out of some vague fear of what would happen if she didn’t. When she even thought about disobeying Julia, she felt a migraine coming on which scared her into obediance.

While Erin went to the bathroom cursing under her breath, Julia went straight to the living room and introduced herself to Ronnie. Erin could hear murmurs of their conversation as she thoroughly washed her face and hair. Looking into the mirror to examine her work, she saw an immature looking girl staring back at her. She was still cute, sure, but unremarkable and dowdy. When she put her hair into a ponytail, it gave her an unflattering and somewhat harsh appearance by accentuating her forehead. The idea of looking like a “peasant girl” crept into her mind, and she couldn’t shake it.

With a sigh, she went to the kitchen and uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses. She heard Julia laughing loudly at something Ronnie said, and her breathing got quicker. She nearly shattered the wine glasses she was grasping them so hard.

She enterred the living room with two glasses in one hand and a bottle in the other. Her entrance caused Ronnie to start like he had been caught red-handed comitting some crime. Her boyfriend was seated close enough to Julia that their legs were touching, even though they were on a big couch. Julia smirked and held out a hand.

“Thanks, Erin. One for me and one for Ronnie here,” Julia said, grabbing Ronnie’s bicep.

“Oh, I’m not 21,” Ronnie said, and Erin cursed him that he didn’t try to get away from the other woman’s touch.

“It’s fine! You have adult supervision. Give him the wine, Erin.”

He took the glass without much more argument, and Erin sat on the couch to the opposite side of Ronnie so he was sandwiched between the two women. She searched the room, thinking of something to talk about.

“Ah, these heels make my feet hurt so much!” Julia whined in a cutesy way, extending one of her long legs out for all to admire. “Erin, could you please give me a massage?”

Erin felt her stomache turn. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Uh, sure?” she said. She started to get up but Julia stopped her.

“You’re the best!” Julia said, and Erin felt a surge of pride from the compliment. She immediately felt ashamed afterwards, though, that Julia’s opinion meant so much to her.

“No need to get up. Here I’ll make it easy for you.”

With that, Julia swung her legs over the couch so that her thighs were resting in Ronnie’s lap and her feet were resting in Erin’s. Erin couldn’t believe her audacity! She wanted to throw Julia’s feet off her lap but found herself instead removing Julia’s high heels. They were made of sleek black leather and had red bottoms, with some designer name engraved onto the soles in golden script. Biting her tongue, Erin tried thinking of ways to take control of the situation but felt a tremendous wave of nausea until she focused on the task at hand. She observed that Julia’s feet were the only thing she could think of without feeling like she was withdrawing from some horrible drug.

She didn’t like the look of amazement in Ronnie’s eyes during all of this, either. He had barely cast her a look since she came into the living room.

Erin looked down at her boss’s feet, admiring Julia’s unbelievably high arches and thin, shapely toes. She had on a sky blue nail polish and her feet had the scent of coconuts, vanilla, leather and girl sweat. Was everything about this woman perfect? Slowly, Erin began kneading Julia’s soles with her thumbs but she had to scoot away from Ronnie to be more comfortable in the action.

“Cheers!” Julia said, clinking glasses with Ronnie.

They continued conversing like this was the most normal thing in the world. Julia asked Ronnie about college, books he read, and kept flattering him and making it seem like he was some worldly intellectual. Ronnie ate it up, of course, and as he drank more wine he got increasingly bold with her. One time, Erin tried to chime into the conversation.

“Yeah I’ve heard that Spain has a really high unemployment rate because—” she cut in, and Ronnie looked at her like he was surprised she was still there.

“Wait, Erin, could you put your fingers between my toes? It’s a really good stretch for my feet and I really need it after I did spin class this morning,” Julia cut her off.

With a tight smile, Erin put one of her fingers in each of the spaces between Julia’s toes. Julia sighed and leaned back against the arm of the sofa. She started talking with Ronnie about her spin class, taking all of the young man’s attention with her own charms.

At one point, she asked him to feel the muscle tone of her legs to see if the classes were working. Ronnie put one hand against her calf and gave her an awkward compliment.

“No, not there! Don’t you know that spin classes work the thigh muscles? Feel my thigh and tell me the classes aren’t amazing,” Julia told him. Ronnie hesitated, although his eyes were already on Julia’s delightful legs.

“I don’t know if Erin would like that,” he was forced to admit. It was the first mention of her he had made during the entire conversation.

“Erin asked me here to help teach her, though!” Julia answered, as though she were legitimately puzzled that Ronnie didn’t know.

“What do you mean?” Ronnie asked, looking at Erin. Before Erin could respond:

“Well, it’s embarassing, but Erin wants a little sex ed. She’s really nervous around boys, so she asked me to come over and show her how to handle situations like this. I thought she would have told you. Why didn’t you say anything, Erin?” Julia explained.

This time, Ronnie was forced to look at Erin. He had an ineffable look on his face, as though he was about to witness a sexual miracle.

“I don’t know,” Erin said. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She wanted to scream at Julia but the words felt stuck in her throat just like every other time she tried to object. Her cheeks were on fire from either anger or embarassment and she felt some nameless fear take hold of her. She felt like she was on a platform miles above the earth, and any false move would send her plumetting to her death.

“Listen,” Julia started. “Erin’s a virgin. It’s totally normal that she’d be curious about sex, and want to learn about it in a safe way. Now, I’m a little older, and I know all sorts of things about sex.”

Ronnie couldn’t contain his amazement. He was flush from the wine and utterly captivated.

“So, I figured I would help her. It’s a weird request, sure, but I wish I had someone when I was her age to show me the ropes. I just didn’t know her boyfriend would be so sexy,” Julia teased.

Afterwards, Ronnie became significantly more bold in his affections. He rested one hand on Julia’s upper thigh and slowly stoked its length, admiring her muscle tone. Their conversation became significantly more intimate, with Julia asking about Ronnie’s previous girlfriends (which made Erin fume) and talking about the things she enjoyed sexually. She made herself out to be a ravenous vixen who needed a young partner to keep up with her appetites.

At one point, Julia lifted the foot Erin wasn’t massaging and rested it on Ronnie’s crotch. They made prolonged eye contact and then Julia pulled her feet away from Erin. She stood up and offered a hand out to Ronnie, who was clearly hard as he rose up to join her.

“Erin, would you show us to your bedroom?” Julia asked in a coquettish whisper.

From that point on, Erin had a profound sense of unreality, like she was watching a movie of her own life. She quietly led the couple up the stairs and down the hall to the her own bedroom. Ronnie tore the bedsheets off of her neatly made bed as Erin stood watching.

“Erin, bring my purse here and get the camera so you can film us,” Julia whispered into Erin’s ear.

When Erin got back, Julia and Ronnie were in the nude, furiously kissing on top of Erin’s bed. Ronnie was on top of Julia, and she was caressing his broad back with both hands. Erin saw Julia’s body for the first time, admiring her firm C-cup breasts with pink nipples and her amazingly smooth skin. Every part of her was toned and supple, even her pussy appeared like a perfect creation with two small, shapely lips and a small patch of trim blonde hair.

Holding the digital camera in her hands, Erin framed the shot so she could capture every moment of her boyfriend making love to the woman she hated. Occasionally, Julia would glance at it and make a kissing face or a wink, which Ronnie used as an opportunity to kiss her neck. This always drew a gasp and a giggle from her.

“Erin, get us the condom from my purse,” Julia said.

Erin obediently searched Julia’s purse and pulled out a condom in a circular wrapper. She tried to hand it to Julia but Julia only shook her head.

“Open it, silly! You need the practice. Here, I’ll hold the camera,” Julia said.

Julia took the camera from Erin as she opened the condom up. She had never handled one before in her life. Tossing the wrapper aside, she again tried to hand it to Julia.

“No, put it on Ronnie so you can get experience doing it,” Julia commanded. Ronnie’s eyes widened as he made a stupid grin. He looked at Erin as though to see if she would actually do it.

With a saccharine smile, Erin pinched the tip of the condom and unrolled it onto Ronnie’s hard cock. It jumped at her touch, and he looked at her like he was in love as she slowly unrolled the condom onto the length of his tool. For her part, Erin was heartbroken. It would have been bad enough to know he cheated on her, but to help him do it was crushing.

“Good job, here’s the camera. Keep filming us,” Julia said, handing the camera back to Erin.

Nearly as soon as Erin was filming the two, Ronnie drove his hard cock into Julia. She gasped and made a delighted smile, drawing his face to hers for a passionate kiss.

“Perfect, baby. Just like that. Ah! Yes!” Julia encouraged Ronnie. Judging by the haughty look on his face, Ronnie probably felt like a sex god for getting with this hot older woman. After a minute, though, Ronnie was thrusting away as Julia stared into the camera with a smirk on her face.

“Oh my god, his cock is perfect! This is SO good! Ah! Harder!” she narrated, and Erin knew Julia was only doing it to further Erin’s disgrace. This continued on for just a few minutes, until Ronnie grunted loudly as he climaxed. After a few moments rest, he pulled out of Julia who pouted in an adorable way.

“Here,” Julia said as Ronnie lied on his back, totally spent. She slipped the condom off of him, then gave Erin a devilish grin.

“Come here, Erin,” Julia said.

Robotically, Erin walked to the edge of the bed.

“Kneel. And open your mouth.” Julia said. As much as she wanted to resist, Erin dropped to her knees and looked up at Julia, now covered in sweat and sporting a healthy glow. She opened her mouth, her eyes glued to her blonde tormentor. Julia only smirked.

Julia, with agonizing care, took the spent condom and emptied its contents into Erin’s mouth as Ronnie watched on in amazement. Erin almost gagged from its sickly sweet taste and its unpleasant, viscous texture. Her eyes started to water and she could feel her sinuses burning.

“Swallow it,” Julia said gently. Erin obeyed, gulping the cum down. When she had finished, she opened her mouth to show Julia the cum was gone, Julia put the condom into Erin’s mouth.

The taste was bitter and sour—she was clearly tasting the side of the condom that had been inside of Julia. Erin’s eyes opened wide as she realized this, but she was powerless to spit it out or do anything but hold it in her mouth.

“Okay,” Julia said, laughing, “go spit it into the trash.”

Erin hustled over to the trash can near her bed and spat it out, looking at the loathesome thing as it rested on top of the tissue in her wastebasket.

“I had no idea you were so kinky, Erin!” Ronnie said, watching her with renewed interest.

“You liked that?” Julia asked, rubbing Ronnie’s chest.

“That was the hotest thing I’ve seen in my life,” Ronnie answered.

“So does that mean you’re good to go again?” Julia asked with a coy smile. Ronnie grinned back, and Erin got them another condom.

By the end of the night, Ronnie had fucked Julia four times. Each time Julia made Erin repeat the same horrible ritual of swallowing his cum and spitting the condom into the trash. When the two had finished making love at around 2 AM, they got up from the bed and Erin helped Julia dress as Ronnie put on his clothes.

Erin looked at her bed to see a pillow that must have been beneath Julia’s rear as she and Ronnie screwed. It was soaked with juices, and Erin knew she would have to throw it out.

“Sleep on that pillow tonight,” Julia said, pointing to the large stain that covered it. Erin glared back at her—a small show of displeasure that caused her to have a migrane.

Erin walked the two to the door where Ronnie and Julia made out passionately before saying goodnight. Ronnie then waved goodbye to Erin, and set out to his car.

“See you at work tomorrow, Erin,” Julia said. She had a heavenly energy surrounding her, like she had earned the world. Even the way Julia walked to her car was regal and proud, with broad shoulders and graceful steps.

Erin, for her part, moved with an unsteady footsteps and she kept her eyes downcast. All she could think about was the humiliation of offering her lover up to another woman and helping her steal him away. She winced and leaned against a wall as she was consumed by guilt, shame, and dread. Somehow, she knew that this was the turning point and that she would never be able to look at Julia the same again. From now on, she could only think of Julia as Aphrodite who had a divine claim to rule. She kept replaying the sex over and over again in her mind: Ronnie and Julia fucking passionately as she watched, with Julia narrating things as though Erin were stupid.

Erin laid her head against the pillow, immediately shocked by how cold and wet it was. She smelled an overpowering earthy aroma, some mixture of girlsweat and cum. She drifted off to a troubled sleep and tried to put today behind her. But the wet spot served as a constant reminder of the night’s events, and all she dreamt of was Julia’s perfect body in the most flattering situations.