Her Coffee Slave

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Erin and her friends are enslaved by the people they despise.
8.3k words
4.31
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/18/2016
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themanred
themanred
284 Followers

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.

themanred
themanred
284 Followers