The New Waitress
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2015 by Memory Heap

Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - She wanted to be a waitress at the Roadhouse. The catch was what the waitresses go through on every shift. She had to prove she could handle it, and that meant a trial by fire.

Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Reluctant   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Exhibitionism  

She was young, as they all tended to be, blonde and quite cute—blue eyes, up-tilted nose and what looked like fairly large tits and decent legs. She came in through the men's side, and was wearing a t-shirt and jeans whose ass was worn smooth and fit tightly around her curvy rear. She asked to see the manager, and introduced herself as Julie. I showed her into the office and to a chair in front of my desk.

"So, you want to work at the Roadhouse?"

"Yes. I've waited tables at a few other places, but I've heard that this is a fun place to work and that the tips are good."

"What else have you heard about it?"

"Well ... I've heard that it can get a little wild sometimes, and that you have to be able to move pretty quick sometimes or you're likely to get groped by the customers. I've heard a few other stories, but I didn't believe them."

"Does getting groped bother you? Have you ever worked in a strip bar or a topless joint?"

"No, I've never worked in those places. There was one place where the owner wanted to make us work topless, but we all refused. Would I have to work topless here?"

"No, you wouldn't have to work topless, but you haven't answered the question. Would being groped bother you?"

She didn't answer for a second. "Well, I don't like getting groped, but I suppose I could put up with it if it wasn't done too rough."

"What if you were being groped by a woman? Would that make a difference?"

Her eyes widened as she looked at me. "What ... what do you mean? Would one of the other waitresses..."

"They might or might not. That kind of depends on you. But, no, I'm talking about the customers. We get a lot of women in here."

"In here?"

I raised one eyebrow. "Is there something you don't like about the décor?"

"Well, it certainly seems a little rough for the kind of place a lot of women would go to. Are there really that many women who come here?"

"We're quite a popular spot. Some nights we're practically turning them away at the doors."

"Oh ... okay ... I'm just a little surprised..."

"So tell me ... you said you had heard other stories about us, but didn't believe them. What kind of stories."

"Well ... I don't know if I should say..."

"It's all right. If they're true, I'll tell you. If they're not, I'll tell you the real story. Then you can decide whether you want to stay. Fair enough?"

"Okay. That seems fair. Here goes ... the first story I heard was that you have to work nude sometimes."

"No, no one ever has to work nude. We do have the occasional party night, and the girls can choose to do something extra, like dance nude, but it's never mandatory. We have stages, even including stripper poles, so if you want to do a strip dance you can, and you get to keep all the tips."

She swallowed hard as she listened, and I got the impression that doing a strip wasn't that far out for her; maybe it was a secret fantasy that she had, and I had just told her how to make it come true.

"So, what's your next story?"

"I heard that if you want to work here, you have to sleep with the boss."

"I'm the boss. I own this place. No one is ever forced to sleep with me, but that doesn't mean that I'll turn down offers." That response stopped her for a second, but she surprised me when she didn't stand up and leave.

"So I don't have to get down on my knees and eat you?"

"Not unless you want to. You're cute and I never say no to a good pussy-licking. You look like you'd be tasty ... you've got kind of a corn-fed Midwest cheerleader vibe to you. Are you offering to let me wrap my thighs around your ears? I really like a good sixty-nine, so just say the word."

"I'm not saying no ... I've actually played with a girl a few times, but let's deal with the interview first, okay?"

"Hmmm, my estimation of you just went up a few points, but whether or not I get to feel your tongue on my clit has no bearing on whether or not you get a job here. Next?"

"I've heard a couple of wild stories about parties getting out of hand and girls getting screwed by bikers right out in the bar."

"We do get a number of bikers and rednecks in here, and yes, they can get pretty rowdy when they're in the mood to party. But they also respect that there's a line they can't cross when it comes to my girls, or they have to deal with me. I've had to bust a couple of heads on occasion, and it didn't bother me at all. They know that they can grope the girls, and that occasionally one of them will put on a dance show, but they're not allowed to just bend one of them over and fuck them. The last guy who tried that is doing three years for assault, and he can't breathe as well as he used to because I smashed his nose up pretty good."

She blanched a little as I told the story, and looked at me a little strangely. "You took on a bar full of bikers and rednecks?"

"I'm ex-military ... special forces. Busting heads with bikers is no worse than doing hand-to-hand unarmed combat training. It's actually way easier, because they don't really know how to fight, unlike my training instructors."

After a moment's silence, I asked, "Anything else you'd like to know?"

She paused again, then quietly said, "I heard there's some kind of initiation..."

I smiled. "So now we're really getting down to what worries you. Yes, there is an initiation. Well, it's not really an initiation ... it's more of a trial by fire. Do you want to know about it?" She nodded. "Come on with me."

I took her out into the women's part of the Roadhouse, empty now because we weren't open for business yet. A few of the girls were cleaning things up a little. I saw one who was in uniform, and called her over.

The waitresses in the Roadhouse wear a short leather vest that clips together in front, but shows a lot of cleavage between their breasts. They can't wear a bra with it, so their breasts move around while they walk. The vest is just long enough that the bottom curves of their breasts don't show, but anyone at the right angle can get a good view when they bend over, either looking down the top, or up from the bottom.

The girls also wear a leather miniskirt. The skirt is short enough to cover their butt, and maybe a couple of inches more. The skirts ride low on the hips, just at the hipbones; there isn't a lot of leather in the skirt. Some of the skirts have a slit that goes all the way from the hem to the hip, so the skirt is held together by a leather belt at the top edge. Wearing a slit skirt is up to the individual girl; she can earn a lot more in tips, but the gropers feel like they've got an open invitation. Underwear with the skirt is optional, most of the time. The girls don't usually wear very expensive underwear, because they can lose it on occasion, and I won't reimburse them for all of it. Again, girls can earn more in tips if they don't wear underwear, but they do run the risk of getting fingers inserted into places that they might want kept private.

All of the girls at the Roadhouse have been known to get groped quite a bit; some of them like it a lot, some don't. It's not unusual for a girl to get played with quite a bit, and I've even had girls taking breaks so that they could go in the back and have an orgasm to relieve the tension. On occasion, customers provide the tension relief, working a girl until she comes. Surprisingly, it's not usually the bikers who do this.

I waved an arm around the room, and said, "What you see here is only half of the place." I pointed to my left. "The rest of the place is on the other side of that wall. As you can see, the bar runs the entire length of the place, so the bartenders behind the bar can move from one end to the other, but the customers have to stay on one side or the other."

In the middle of the wall is a set of saloon-style swinging doors. I continued, "Men have to stay on the other side of those doors. We'll go there in a sec, although that's the side you came in through. Women own this side. Men are not permitted to come in here, but there's a double standard—women can go on either side. So if a woman doesn't want to be bothered by a man, she can come here, although she might be hit on by another woman. If a straight woman is with a date, she'll typically stay on the men's side. The biker chicks quite typically work both sides, since a lot of them swing both ways.

I had her follow me through the swinging doors, and showed her the men's side of the club. The main difference was that here the tables didn't look as good, and there were fewer booths. There were, however, a few pool tables on one side of the room. The small stage with its stripper pole was the same size as on the women's side; it actually got used more, as the bikers often made one of their own women dance for the enjoyment of the crowd. Similar things happened on the women's side, but not as often. After we looked around, I took Julie back to the women's side, and had her pull up a stool at the bar.

"Now that you've seen the place, I can tell you about the so-called initiation. As I said, it's more of a trial by fire. I started the trial because too often I'd hire a new waitress, and after getting groped a few times, she'd quit—just walk out and not come back. Or, one of the women would hit on her, sometimes with hands involved, and the same thing would happen. I got tired of always being shorthanded, or of trying to chase some girl down to pay her the wages she was owed, so I came up with the idea.

"This is how it works: before you get hired on a regular basis, you have to work one full Friday shift. The shift starts at six in the evening, and goes until we close at 3:00 AM. For the shift, the uniform you have to wear is our smallest vest, and our shortest skirt, which also has a full slit. Underwear is not optional; you are not allowed to wear any at all. In addition, you have to wear a big yellow happy face button on your vest—everyone knows that it means you're the new girl on trial. During your shift, you alternate every half-hour as to which side of the place you work on. So, you do half an hour in here, then half an hour on the men's side, and you keep swapping back and forth all night.

"You don't get paid for that shift—you're free labour, however, you can keep all the tips you earn. You could easily make several hundred in tips for the one night. Fridays are usually the busiest night in here, but that also means that it can be pretty rowdy. You will get groped, you will have comments made about you, and you will get called names. You're pretty, you've got what seem to be good tits and legs, so you can bet that everyone will want to feel them.

"Basically, you follow the normal bar rules—be nice to the customers, even if they're playing with your pussy or calling you a skank. Do not offer to blow anyone, eat anyone, or fuck anyone. Deal with the drink orders correctly and quickly, and keep moving. If you want to do a performance on one or both of the stages, you're more than welcome to, and I can guarantee that you'll probably double your take in tips. Any of that is completely optional, and no one will push you into it, or even suggest it. If you can survive the night without ending up in my office in tears, or storming out the front door, then you've probably got what it takes to work here. Make it through the night, and we can talk about a job."

She thought for a moment, then asked, "How small is the uniform? Does it at least cover all the necessities?"

"Yes, it does, but I'll be honest. The top shows most of the inner parts of your boobs and if you turn too fast, one of your nipples may flash someone. The vest is short enough that the bottom curve of your tits may be visible, depending on how much they sag when you take your bra off. Obviously, it's more of a problem for girls with big tits. The skirt comes down to about the lower crease of your ass, so your ass and pussy are covered, but if you bend over at all you'll be flashing your ass, and no one has to reach far to touch your pussy. By the way, if you've got much pubic hair, I'd advise you to trim it right down, or shave it off. A lot of the gropers like to pull on the hair, and that can hurt. If you want, I can get one of the girls to get the new girl uniform from the dressing room, and you can try it on to see if it's more than you can handle."

Surprisingly, she just kept nodding as I was talking, and didn't ask to see the uniform. "Okay, I think I can handle all of that. I don't need to see the uniform, since it won't matter—I'll have to wear it one way or another, so seeing it won't make any difference."

"That's true. Any other questions?"

"At the end of the trial, do I have to do anyone to finish it up?"

"One or two of the girls may want to see you naked to see what kind of competition you represent, but even that may not happen."

"What about you? Do I need to do you when it's over?"

"Darlin' if you want to eat my puss, you're welcome to it at any time. I'll sit down and spread my legs and you can have at it, but like I said earlier, I'll never tell you to do it—it will always be your choice."

She surprised me when she stood up and came close, then leaned in and kissed me. "Thanks for being straight with me, and telling me everything I need to do to work here. What time on Friday should I be here?"

I put an arm around her, and patted her on the tight ass of her jeans. "Come in about five, so we can get the uniform adjusted. Wear a pair of really comfortable shoes. You'll look best if you're wearing boots of some kind, but if you haven't got those then almost anything else is good."

"All right. Seeya on Friday." She kissed me quickly again, then spun out of my arms and headed for the door.

One of the girls wandered over. "Think she'll be back?"

"Yeah, I think she actually will go through with it, and something tells me she'll end up working here."

"I hope so. We could use another pair of hands in this place, and some fresh meat will give the rest of us a break from some of the rougher hands. I swear I'm getting calluses on my pussy."

I laughed and gave her a swat on her ass. "I can check that for you..."

"That's okay. One of these lesbians will probably be checking it in another few hours."

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