Tracy sighed to herself. Another month had passed, and another month she was stuck here, doing this crummy job. She looked at her surroundings. In a fancy restaurant like this, a waitress should be making at least minimum wage. If not for the tips, she’d probably go under.
A couple of years into medical school, she had recently failed out after working a few late shifts too many and failing an important exam. Now she was stuck with a gigantic student loan bill. Just the thought of how long it would be before she could claw her way out of that debt was enough to bring her to tears sometimes.
She sighed again while wiping the spilled wine off of a table where one of her rich patrons had got drunk and spilled half the $200 bottle of wine all over himself and the floozy he had brought to dinner. Only a couple years older than Tracy, Paul Hayes ran his own company, and was rumored to soon be one of the world's youngest self-made billionaires.
Everyone knew about him, the way he loved to throw around money, the way he had to be in control. He insisted every time he came in that Tracy be his waitress, and why not? She was the smartest and most competent waitress in the whole restaurant, not to mention one of the prettiest. He had often hinted, sometimes quite strongly, that she could be one of his floozies if she wanted to be, but Tracy always smiled and easily managed to stop his advances. It’s not that she couldn’t do it, she thought to herself.
She had often looked at her body in the mirror and wondered how she continued to be blessed with such a fit physique even with her infrequent trips to the gym. She still had the tight legs she had had since high school, and though she had filled out a little, she was still quite pleased with how she looked. Her br**sts were a B cup but pushed together nicely to give her cl**vage when she wanted it, even though they were covered completely by her waitress outfit. Her ass was nice and round, filling out every pair of jeans or skirt that she wore, especially when she wore heels.
No, it wasn’t her body that made her hesitate. It’s that she had no idea what Mr. Hayes wanted. She knew that if she slept with him and didn’t give him exactly what he wanted, he would be done with her and probably this restaurant as well. He was a real good looking guy who kept himself in great shape, with broad shoulders and a nice chest, but he was also her biggest tipper and she couldn’t afford to trade the short term high life for the long-term tip dollars that he could offer. It was a pragmatic decision which sometimes disgusted her, but she knew that everyone works for someone else, and that she was no different than anyone else who made these types of decisions.
The thing he wanted had to be something that none of these girls would give him, since he was with a different girl almost every time he came in, but it was surely nothing that Tracy could offer him. She was prettier than average, sure, but nowhere near as hot as some of the girls he came in with. If she got a little more desperate for money, though, then perhaps...
She put the thought out of her mind, and finished closing down the restaurant. As she waved goodbye to her co-workers, she again lost herself in ideas about how to make money. Maybe she could start her own restaurant...
In a moment, her life changed forever. A drunk driver came around a corner and lost control, driving onto the sidewalk. Tracy jumped but her head hit the car’s windshield and she tumbled over the top of the car. She lost consciousness just after she hit the sidewalk, and the driver never even slowed down to see if she was okay.
***
Tracy awoke a few hours later. Her whole body ached and she was pretty much immobile from all the wires and the IV in her, but otherwise she felt like nothing was broken. A nurse was in the room with her, and soon a doctor came to visit her. A few scrapes, many bruises, and a few stitches in her forehead, but nothing major. The doctor said it was practically a miracle, that she seriously had a guardian angel watching out for her. Tracy might have believed that if she wasn’t already thinking about how much this was going to cost her without insurance. Just one more thing, she thought.
She returned home that very evening, refusing to spend a night in the hospital bed that would have just cost more money. She wondered how she would ever fall asleep with as much pain as she was in, but as the taxi dropped her off, she realized she could barely keep her eyes open. Must have been that pain medication they gave me, she thought. She managed to get inside and lock the door before stumbling to her bedroom and falling into bed. Instantly asleep, she dreamed strange dreams for a while, but eventually fell into a deep slumber.
***
Tracy called in sick, or rather injured, to work the next day, but she knew she couldn’t take much time off work. She agreed to come back in on Friday and Saturday night to make up for it, and knew she’d be doing that an awful lot over the next few months. Kiss my life goodbye, she thought to herself. Friday night she rousted herself out of bed, took some pain medication, and made it to her waitress job only fifteen minutes late.
The manager, while mostly an uncaring prick, let it slide this one time, making it clear he thought he was doing her a huge favor. A great way to start the night, she thought. She was mostly slow and stiff doing her job, but she could do it. The three days she had taken off ended up being a life saver. All of her bruises were gone, and the stitches had already dissolved, leaving a small scar that ran from the edge of her right eyebrow to the middle of her forehead. It wasn’t too noticeable, and in fact she thought it looked kind of cool. She had thrown a little blush on to mask it, but otherwise didn’t think it hurt her appearance whatsoever. She was a little slow serving each of her first customers, but soon she was back into the swing of things, with just a little creak of pain here and there.
At about eight, Mr. Hayes came in with a new young woman on his arm. She showed the two of them to their table, and his date quickly excused herself to go to the bathroom while Tracy went to take the rich man’s wine order.
“Tracy, when I heard what had happened to you, I hoped everything was okay. You look remarkably well healed,” Mr. Hayes said, actual concern in his voice.
“Oh I’m fine, sir. I must be made of steel,” she joked.
“You know, if any of your medical bills are going to be an issue, I have a friend or two at the Chamber of Commerce who might be able to help you out,” he said, very matter of factly.
“Really?” she said, maybe with a little too much hope in her voice.
“Yes, really. Why don’t you come back to my place with us tonight and we can talk it over?” he said. The tone of his voice betrayed exactly what they’d be “talking” about if she went home with him.
Tracy’s hope instantly deflated. It's not that she didn't want to have sex with him, but she knew that if she went home with him tonight, she'd just be used up and thrown away in the morning. He might not even have the connections he claimed to have, but there’s no doubt that he’d pressure her into sleeping with him if she went home with him. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get home early tonight, doctor’s orders. Maybe another night?” she said, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.
He sounded honestly a little deflated himself by her answer. “Yes, of course. Another time.” He looked down at his menu, then his eyes slowly crept up Tracy’s body, as if taking a panoramic snapshot. Tracy let it happen of course. After all, he was probably going to be her biggest tipper of the night, but it still felt demeaning.
She expected him to stop at her tits, but he kept going, and they locked eyes. Suddenly, Tracy felt a blinding flash from behind her eyes, and nearly lost her balance. She closed her eyes until the sensation went away, and opened them again when she heard the rich man’s voice.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the real concern back in his voice.
“Yeah, just a little headache,” she said, unsure of what had just happened.
“Well, you make sure to take care of yourself, and think over my offer,” he said. His date returned from the bathroom, and the rest of the night went pretty smoothly. The way the young bimbo looked at him, she could tell that she was going to sleep with him that night. Knowing him, he’d probably be dumping her in the morning. Tracy left a little after Mr. Hayes did, feeling too sleepy to close down the restaurant for the night due to the pain medication she had taken, and went straight back home and went to bed.
Her dreams started fitfully, making no real sense. She remembered flying through space, a bunch of plus signs coming out of nowhere, some swirls of light, and then:
All of a sudden her dream became crystal clear. She was in a room, and the lights were dim. She looked down but only saw floor. I guess I’m just a disembodied set of eyes, she thought to herself. She looked around and saw a king-sized bed. Focusing closer on the bed, she saw the Mr. Hayes on it, nak*d. His details were fuzzier than the rest of the dream world, but she could still see his six-pack abs and huge pectorals.
A woman sauntered out of the bathroom, dressed in black lingerie. Tracy looked closer and saw that the girl was her! Well, maybe not quite, but at least a close representation of her. Her hair was much darker, and her stare was much more intense than anything she could pull off. Other than that, it was her face and body. She came out and walked right to the foot of the bed. His eyes were fixated on her, and other than the bed, the rest of the room lost focus and sort of faded away. Tracy watched with fascination as “she” looked at him up and down.
“You disgust me,” she said, her voice deeper and huskier than Tracy's was in real life.
“But I just want to please you,” he said.
“You'll never please me,” she replied.
“But...”
“Get back down,” she barked at him, and suddenly a pair of wraps materialized and tied his hands to the head of the bed.
He seemed to lie there, paralyzed, as she crawled up on the foot of the bed. She moved her way up slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He was visually getting anxious, shifting back and forth a little as she slowly made her way up to his cock. All of a sudden Mr. Hayes' body came into focus, and his c*ck was rock hard. “Tracy” grabbed it, and held it. She seemed to squeeze it, and for a moment Tracy thought she might break it in half. Instead, with eyes still locked on Mr. Hayes' eyes, she asked him a question.
“What do you want?” The question seemed to echo in a thousand different voices, as if a thousand different girls had asked him the question before. Complete silence for a moment as the two of them continued to lock eyes.
Mr. Hayes answer came in the same form. A thousand different quiet voices, all his own this time, came back with answers like “Let me do it,” and “I'll take it from here,” and “If you want something done right...” But as these answers rang out, a single voice, sharper, clearer, rang out. It was pleading, hopeful with some statements but full of despair in others. “Please, do this,” and “I need your help with this,” and “I'm counting on you.” Eventually, the voice began repeating the same phrase over and over.
“I want you to take control.”
“Tracy” started to move on top of him, while still holding his c*ck in her hand. The panties of her lingerie seemed to dissolve, while the rest of her lingerie stayed on. It was hard to make out details, but it was clear that she was very close to lowering herself onto him.