Hooter's Waitress Humiliation Ch. 02

They did not stay too long after that. They had gotten way more than what they came for, and I, like a ditz had played into the foolish trap set by my own pride. I had been so certain there was no way I would have to admit my true hair color. As they left the restaurant, I realized that soon they would be seeing the glaring proof with their own eyes. I was already so embarrassed, I couldn't imagine how I would soon feel when I had to, God-help-me, waitress for them in my birthday suit. The fact that they were making me wear my white socks and shoes only seemed, in my mind to accentuate how exposed the rest of me would really be.

I went home to my small apartment that had been such a luxurious upgrade from the dorm room and sat down on my futon. As I had said earlier, I came from a small town and had been the prettiest girl in my high school. I was also the bustiest. The fact that my development had sort of been explosive my junior year had led to a very typical self consciousness about my own body. Just working at Hooters had been a huge, and frankly, unbelievable step that had come about because of an almost pathological need to please and fit in and that had manifested in the person of Gena the sophomore that seemed to have all the answers and the world by the tail.

"Gena," I thought she will know what to do. I picked up the phone, but just as I was dialing, I realized that I wanted as few people to know about this as possible and I set the princess receiver back in the cradle. Absently I twisted the coiled phone line, thinking.

"Maybe, I could just do it and no one would ever know," I thought. I looked at the small coffee table and saw the overdue notice for the car payment. They were going to pay a thousand dollars, and they had said the guy the party was for was sick. Oddly the fact that it was for a sick friend was the most convincing part. I had always been especially susceptible to peer pressure and a group mentality, and some might even say gullible. More though, I had always been very emotionally sympathetic and if I could not be convinced by other methods, playing on the "Awwwww" factor had never failed with me. I sat there struggling. They had challenged me...and the guy was sick and could not go out anymore.

"But nude?" I thought, my tummy almost turning with a sort of sick cringing embarrassment. "Nude! In front of a bunch of middle aged guys, and not just a quick look either...waitressing."

I went through the potential of that. I thought of having the stares and the looks at areas that were bad enough when covered in orange satin or white cotton and how it would just kill me when there was nothing obstructing their view of every detail. I swallowed hard at the thought of these customers seeing my bare breasts and worse...my..."bush". Sitting there all alone in my apartment, I turned red at the thought. Based on their behavior at the restaurant, they would not exactly be gentlemanly. The truth was that they were a lot more like over-aged high-schoolers. I doubted they would do anything that would amount to an assault, but the comments, and how they would be grinning would be hard to take. I went into the bathroom, undressed, and turned on the shower. That helped. The warm water was like a steamy, cascading cocoon and for a bit I forgot that I had been prancing around the restaurant just an hour ago, sporting an aggravated camel toe and giving a near see through t shirt show of my boobs. I turned off the water and stepped out. The bathroom was steamy, but the mirror had not fogged up and as I dried off I saw my reflection. That body was soon going to be seen, just like that. I looked at my breasts and the moderately narrow rectangle of trimmed black hair over the really bare lips below and cringed again. In a microsecond all the nervous dread returned.

I went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of White Zinfandel and drank a glass quickly. I was not much of an alcohol drinker and being small it had a quick effect. I turned on the TV. I will never forget, there was a movie about a stripper on one of the cable channels. (The money I thought would keep rolling in from that job based on that first month had led me to overspend on a lot of stuff). I knew that like the car note, the cable bill was overdue. I watched about ten seconds of the show and switched the channel over to something else. I had a second glass and already pretty blotto, I went into the bedroom, pulled on my old soft high school t shirt and a pair of panties and climbed into bed.

"Maybe," I thought slightly drunkenly it won't be as bad as you think.

Ah, alcohol.

The next day was the day before the party. I awakened to the phone ringing. Even though I had not had a huge amount to drink, my head hurt a little and I looked around with a sort of desperate thought of "what time is it?" I looked at the clock. It was eight forty and I had a nine o'clock class. I jumped out of bed and ran to the living room of the apartment and picked up the phone. Despite my intense panic about class, the voice on the other end stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Hey sleepy head, did I wake you?" The voice was distinctly male and recognizable. Suddenly it all came flooding back. I had given them my number.

"Idiot!" I thought to myself.

"Uh, yeah. I was just getting up," I said.

"Yeah, guess it was a long night. We all had fun though. You are a great sport ," he said.

"Oh...uh...thanks," was all I could come back with.

"Yeah, hey listen. I had a chance to talk with our sick friend and he is really looking forward to this. This will really lift his spirits and I just wanted you to know we are all just going to have a really great time and you are great for honoring the bet."

He was smooth. In retrospect I have to give him that. Had he taken a different approach I might have backed out despite the money. But suddenly he was acting like such a nice guy, and it was a good cause for his sick friend. I was being played and did not even catch on.

"Yeah. He has really not been doing too well, but when we told him about the party and you, it was amazing. I think it is really sweet of you to help out like this. Really sweet."

"Oh.....uh...yeah...you're welcome," I said.

"Yeah? Don't forget now, just the white socks and the shoes ok?"

"Uh yeah, I remember," said

"That's super.

"Hey," I said, "look, I don't...I haven't done anything like this before...I want to make sure....none of you guys will tell anyone, right?"

Thinking back I realize I might as well have asked them if they loved me.

"Oh no," he said emphatically, "no way. This stays between us. I mean, God imagine if the word got out that you did this? You'd have every guy at Hooters trying to get you to do it at their party. No, Kim, we won't say anything. We like you. You seem like a nice decent girl. And I know this is a big deal for you. We just want to have some fun and help our sick friend feel better. You are doing that for him. We respect that. You're kind of like a nurse in way, if you think about it."

I should have hung up. I should have called bullshit. I should have seen that the word respect being directed my way as we talked about me waitressing stark naked in front of a bunch of guys that were old enough to be...well my older uncles anyway...was completely ridiculous. But I wanted to not feel like a bimbo. I wanted to be liked and I was a fool.

"Oh my God," I said, "I am almost late for class!"

"Oh yeah? You better go. We don't want to slow you from becoming the next big female executive. Business and Marketing major, right?"

"Uh huh," I said.

"Okay, well we will see you tomorrow at 6. Here is the address."

Quickly I scribbled it down and realized that it was in the ritzy section of big homes that overlooked the bay. I hung and ran into the bedroom and grabbing a pair of jeans and a bra and t shirt, I dressed quickly. There was no time for makeup and since I could not do anything with my hair, I pulled it up in a scrunchy. I slipped on my Nikes and ran out of the door. I looked like crap, I knew that. I got to class late and slunk into a chair as the professor handed out the last round of graded papers for the Market Analysis assignment. We were supposed to do an analysis of the local market for a restaurant chain. I had NOT wanted to do Hooters, but I had been pulling more shifts to make up for the customers and money that had dwindled and the manager had offered to give me the official analysis of the Clear Lake area. Pressed for time I had altered it so that the company identifiers were off as attributing and had submitted it. Unfortunately, I had done it while tired and I had not eliminated one line which indicated that it was a business estimate by the company. The graded papers were handed out. I noticed I did not receive one. Puzzled, I listened as the Professor talked about the shortcomings and successes of the other presentations. At the end of the class he said, Miss Keller (Not my name) can I see you for a moment?

I walked down to the podium and waited as people filed out. Dr. Renfro was a nice guy, but he looked really serious as he spoke. "Look, It's Kim, right?"

"Yes sir," I twanged. When I get nervous my very, very Southern accent becomes more pronounced.

"Kim," you did not do this work. I know. The company address and market contact is on here still. If you are going to plagiarize, do a much better job. I should report you. I should. It would mean a suspension and an F on your transcript and the honors violation would be added to your record for the duration."

"Dr. Renfro, I am so sorry. I am so embarrassed," I said bursting into tears." I work and go to school and I did not mean to cheat. I realize it was not my work. I...please...if there is anyway you can let me redo it."

The tears were legitimate. But they had an effect. Dr. Renfro looked uncomfortable and slightly sympathetic.

"Please don't cry," he said. "I will let you make it up...but I need a whole new...original paper by tomorrow afternoon. And even if it is perfect, which is impossible, the best I will give you is a C. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," I said, turning red and wanting to crawl under the linoleum floor.

"Okay, then so we are clear. Tomorrow by 5 pm, close of office hours. Or you fail."

"Yes sir."

I left. I had another class, but I would have to skip it. I had to work that afternoon until seven at the restaurant so I would have almost no time to work on the paper. That meant a severe all-nighter and skipping classes the next day. I raced back home, looking like hell. It had been a rough couple of days and things were not looking up

I had some notes on a concept for a floral distribution business and I started going through them. By the time I had to get ready for work, I was bleary-eyed. I changed, grabbed some makeup, and dropped it into a gym bag along with my uniform and ran out the door. I walked into the dressing room as Gena was pulling on her pantyhose. In just a short time the image of a woman naked from the wait down pulling on her hose with a Hooters t shirt on had become barely worth noticing. She looked at my, and even though I knew, the magnitude of how bad I looked did not hit until I saw her expression.

"I know. I know," I said. "I was up late and overslept." I looked at the mirror. My eyes were kind of puffy and I looked...not my best.

Gena came to my rescue. She dragged out the makeup case and went to work. It was going to be a matter of putting on more than I normally wore. I was not delighted with the look, but I had to admit it hid what it was supposed to.

I found that the heavier make up actually affected they way the male customers interacted with me. They seemed, maybe it was just me, a little more smart-alecky and a little freer with comments and flirtation. Given what I had endured and what I knew was coming up, it was not hugely affecting, but it was noted. Eventually I got through the shift and went home exhausted, facing a long, long night.

I made coffee and began writing. By midnight I had an outline, but could barely keep my eyes open. I pushed on and by noon of the next day, I had a near final draft. It was riddled with some typos and errors, but it was getting there. I was in the homestretch, but mentally I was not processing very well. I was feeling emotional like I would almost never make it. I was dying to get a nap and two hours later when I put the final cap on the text and headed across campus to drop it off I was like a zombie. I left the paper with Dr. Renfro's secretary who looked at me like a criminal and went home to catch a couple of hours before I had to get ready for the party.

I woke up to the sound of the alarm and dragged myself into the bathroom to shower. The water did a little to help wake me and the cold coffee that had been in pot in my bedroom added to getting my eyes open as I sipped it before climbing into the water. The fact that I would be completely exposed meant that I had to especially attend to certain matters of grooming. Trying not to think about that, I took my razor and edged the little black hair pattern and over my labia and even father back. I had a small hand mirror and after hesitating for a second, I mean who wants to look closely at that part of yourself, I lowered it to make sure I was doing a complete job. It meant that I had to contort in the shower, a ludicrous position...the undignified aspect of which was not lost on me... and I made sure that there were no strays that I had missed. I finished up and got out. Turning the water off, again I saw my reflection. As I have said, I am 5-2, I weighed 110 pounds and I had a slightly pendulous but perky bust with medium, slightly darker areola and thick nipples. I had a slightly curved tummy and downstairs the little landing strip of hair. I am naturally built with what many would call a slight bubble butt and every time I moved, my breasts would jiggle and sway slightly.

I dried my hair and looking at my face realized I looked so tired. I put on a minimal amount of makeup and fluffed out my blonde hair so that I looked like I normally did going in to Hooters. The fact that I was not going in to Hooters weighed heavily on my mind.

"It's for a sick guy....and a thousand dollars. Just get through it," I said to myself. I walked into the bedroom and slipped on a bra....then realizing that it was pretty stupid to be getting dressed up to go take everything off I reconsidered. I truly felt stupid.

"How did you get dressed to go somewhere and take off your clothes?" I thought. I was still so tired and was not thinking super clearly. I did not even know if I would have a place to change. "Best to not have as much to put back on so I could get out of there faster," I thought.

Taking off the bra, and foregoing panties, I put on the track suit. It felt weird wearing it without any underwear at all. I sat on the bed and pulled on the thick scrunch socks that were part of my "uniform" for the night. Then I slipped on my white tennis and tied them. I stood up taking one last look in the mirror I started out. That last look was a bad idea. My nipples were irritated by the inside of the track suit top and were standing out. Also when I walked, my breasts juggled and wobbled under the top in a massively evident way. I walked out to the car feeling like anyone who looked would know what a shameful thing I was about to do.

I had a slight drive of twenty minutes to get to the house. I passed the college, went beyond the lower class housing editions, and into the wealthy section. The houses were huge and luxurious. On one side were golf courses and the other beautifully manicured lawns descending to the water's edge. Behind some I could make out really nice boats and a few yachts. I knew these guys had money, but coming from my background and situation, it was intimidating. I looked at the address and pulled along Pompano drive into a cul-de-sac and saw the place.

It was Spanish style with a tiled roof and a huge palatial layout. I also saw that out front were 5 cars. There was a Mercedes, a Hummer a tricked out pick up, and a Jaguar. Pulling my Miata up, I got out. I could hear music coming from inside. The houses next door each sat on huge lots and so were not really close at all. I sighed and walked up to the front door.

I paused a second, thinking, "Are you sure about this?" and realizing nothing in my life had changed since the drive over I thought, "It is a sick guy...you are doing a nice thing for him," and knocked.

I had to knock twice and even rang the bell before I heard the music dim and the sound of male voices. Then a single set of footsteps came to the door.

The guy, Tim, opened the door and smiled like it was no big deal that I was there.

"Hey, Kim, great. Come on in."

I walked inside and the opulence of the place took my breath away. Tim owned some big company and there were pictures of him golfing with the mayor, and some celebrities on the walls. I also saw that he had really expensive if kind of eighties style furnishings.

He put a hand on the small of my back and guided me into the house. I thought at first we would be saying hello before I "changed", but instead he ushered me into the big workout room and office at the front of the house.

"You look great," he said, glancing me over very quickly. It was so fast I did not register offense. In fact he was so casual, so non-threatening, that I almost relaxed and forgot what I was there to do.

He stepped to the desk and indicated that I sit in a chair in front of it. I did and he opened a drawer and pulled out a huge stack of money. He counted out a thousand dollars. I had never seen a thousand dollars in cash. I must have betrayed that. It was pretty big wad of bills and I did not have a purse. He looked at me.

"I could keep it in here until you are done, if you like?"

Realizing I had just a small pocket in the track suit and that my driver's license was almost completely occupying it, I said, "Yeah sure. That would be fine, I guess."

That...the transaction... brought me back to what I was doing there. I kind of reddened, but Tim was smooth.

"Hey, would you like a glass of wine?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I would. Do you have any White Zinfandel?"

He looked at me like I had just fallen off the turnip truck, but smiled widely and said, "You bet, honey. Be right back Tell you what while I am gone, you can go ahead and get ready...change for the party...in here."

I looked at him kind of dumbly and nodded. He was smiling and I smiled back like everything was casual.

"Oh, uh...yeah...sure."

He left and I stood up and given what I had on...did not have much to do. I unzipped the top and slipped it off. Politely, I sat it on the edge of his desk. I pulled the pants down to my knees and sitting on the chair, removed them over my shoes. I set the pants next to the top. Just like that I was completely naked in a strange guy's office. I sat on the chair looking at the memorabilia on the office wall. Tim was an ex jock, it seemed, from the U of H. He apparently owned a car dealership and there were pictures of him with women and stylish friends on his boat and at dinner parties. There was an award from the city council and a big framed certificate. The more I looked around, the more I realized I was in foreign territory. I was still considering it when he walked back in with the glass of wine.

"Wow," he said looking at me, "Uh...I...uh had to hunt for it...not many drink this, some friends I guess. I like reds and whites. Here you go."

I took the wine and embarrassed at the way he was looking at the top of my LZ between my closely closed thighs, I downed it too fast.

"Oh hey, could I get you another?"

"Uh no," I said, "I don't think I should."