Authors: Emma Valentines
Copyright 2015 by Emma Valentines - All rights reserved.
Cover graphic with usage: © dashek, depositphotos.com
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Using All Her Holes
Part 1
By: Emma Valentines
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I could never forget how that cute little teenage girl tasted like even though it happened 5 years ago. Yes, I was never short on bitch supply but none of them would ever come close to Ashley. It wasn’t only the softness of her skin, but also her soaked red cheeks, her torn little tank top, the whole situation and, of course, how Jake and I took turns on the cute helpless little girl. I wasn’t sure about her real name, but she looked like an Ashley and I sure knew she was enjoying it a lot.
It wasn’t exactly ideal that I got a job at the gas station next to my college after I graduated instead of getting a real job. It was only for a brief period of time, a low point in my life, when I put all my effort into saving up for my own business. If it hadn’t been for Jake, my best mate, I would have killed myself out of boredom. He was the night time manager so I easily got the job and he wasn’t so uptight with me the whole time we worked together.
Of course, it was nothing glamorous, but I got some decent time getting high in the back, eating junk food and drinking beer on rare occasions. That was only when I got to work with Jake, which was most of my night shift there.
The station was a bit far from the college, perfect for me, as I didn’t want the juniors witnessing my existence in this small, hopeless place. It was a bit away from downtown so it often got quite slow during the weekdays. Only a few drunk college kids or long commuters on their way homes late at night were usually our customers. So most of the time, Jake and I were left with barely anything to do. I would bring my future tattoo shop's collection sketchbook and my best man would be checking the stocks and shelving little this and that. He said being on his only helped the time go by quicker.
One Wednesday night, the quietest time of week, I was sketching the most awesome dragon tattoo at the register while Jake was fixing the broken light in the back. Then, a red minivan pulled up. A tiny little punk blonde walked in. I remembered her, she was in college and had always worn the tiniest skirts, the tank top that revealed too much and the cheap pink dyed hair she seemed to love so much. Ashley, as I named her, had too much make-up on her face, bright red lipstick and dark eye shadows that exaggerated her big round eyes, contrasting her aimless pale blue eyes. Her earrings were often too big for her face and the ring on her nostril, of course, fit her right into the cliché mallrat teen.
She went straight through the shelf, randomly tried on a hat and sunglasses, which didn’t match what she was wearing a tiny bit. I took the opportunity to study my bartering adversary more, her skirt came to just cover her crotch, she was slim, but it was difficult to tell more as her leather jacket top would give nothing away as to what lay beneath. Her hips moved deliciously as she headed toward the cheap necklace shelf with her round ass to my side. I focused more intently on her leggy thighs and started thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with what she would be buying. With all the surveillance mirrors on the wall and shelves, she had actually been watching me watching her.
I turned my attention back to the minivan parked outside. With the broken light, I could only tell that there were at least two kids waiting for her in the car. They had probably borrowed it from their mom. If only she had known they were driving carelessly at night like this, they would be grounded until graduation. By the time I shifted my attention back to the tiny punk, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I jumped up from my comfortable seat behind the counter and started pacing through the store.
As I got closer to the front of the store, I could get a better look at the punk boy in the car. His eyes went wide as though he saw a ghost and he frantically pressed his phone. I’ve been there and done that, I was up to their game, the little thief gang.
I turned the corner and found the cutie squatting down, struggling to stuff as many beer cans as she could in her pink backpack. Her tiny hands were shaking, probably out of fear of getting caught and from the alcohol she had already consumed earlier that night. It took her a couple of second to sense my anger just behind her. She jumped and fell on her little ass. Her feet were flat on the ground about her shoulder width apart and I could almost see where the material bunched into her crotch. It looked like she wasn’t wearing any panties.
She stared up at me, shaking, her jaw dropped and her eyes started welling with tears. A couple of seconds later, her phone rang, the screen flashing a boy name, which I didn’t remember. But from what I could gather, it must have been one of the punks in the car who was trying to warn her, but it was way too late for them and especially for her.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure your lovely friend over there was trying to warn you.”
She slowly reached for her phone that flew from her hands and laid next to my foot. I couldn’t really believe what I was seeing; the tiny little blonde girl’s tits were hanging free in that tiny white tank top under the heavy leather jacket.
The phone went off just the same time I heard the car exhaust pipe roar as her allies drove off, leaving the poor helpless girl.
Ashley burst into tears, knowing that no one was going to help her. I crossed my arms and stared at her sternly, pretending to be contemplating on her punishment. A tear fell down her cheeks, washing her heavy make-up along with it.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so very sorry. Please, please don’t call the cops or my parents. Please!” she became hysterical at the thought of getting caught. She begged and begged, screaming for my forgiveness.
I felt like a wolf when a little lamb walks into its trap. I could have done just about anything with this girl. For that very brief second, my heart pumped faster and I felt a flush of hot blood running up my face. The little helpless girl, shaking and cowering on the ground while pleading for mercy was strangely exciting.
“Put them back,” I finally spoke after five minutes of her sobbing and begging.
With no hesitation, she enthusiastically removed the can one at a time and neatly placed them back onto the bottom shelf.
I realized that I would have to store them on the top shelf later tonight, so I figured I might as well let the little thief get the work done for me instead.
“Not there, put them up there,” my fingers point to the second from the top shelf, which was almost out of her reach.
Ashley slowly picked herself up, still shaking, with tins in both hands. She was only around 5 feet 2, tiny frame probably under 100 pounds. She tiptoed and tried to reach for the tall shelf. As her arms flung up for the tall shelf, her little white tank top pulled up, exposing the undersides of her tits. They were much bigger than I had expected.
I didn’t waste the opportunity to abuse the little thief and save myself from a late night chore, I told her to reach one more shelf taller.
Again, with no hesitation, Ashley tried her best to plead me in hope of saving herself from this dilemma. She reached the top shelf with the tip of her toes. I couldn’t help noticing that her shirt had pulled up even more and was almost completely exposed up to the edge of her nipples.
I grabbed her backpack in one hand and her upper arm in the other, guiding her toward the door marked “Employees Only.”
“What are you doing?” she pulled back and squeaked, her voice causing Jake to peek from the stack of cardboard boxes. He was confused when he saw a squeaking little punk trying to get away from my strong grip.
”What do you think? I’m calling the cops! You just got caught stealing my beer!” I shook my head as I pushed her in the room. “Wait here.” I commanded before I slammed the door.
“Jake, I want to have a word with you.”
“What’s going on, man?” Jake sounded a little bit high or perhaps sleepy from the late night hangover. He briefly glanced through the small window to check out the unexpected visitor.
“She was stealing the beer.” I clarified.
He only shrugged and smiled a little.
“I’m going to call the cops.” I was getting annoyed with him being so laid back, leaving me on active surveillance on my own.
“Seriously? Come on, man” he objected my idea.
“She needs to be punished, I’m calling the cops.” I was stern and determined about my conclusion.
“I don’t think you should really call the cops.”
“What?” I had to interrupt him.
“Hey, I haven’t finished yet. Hey, man, listen, if you call the cops, they will just come and take her. We could take it into our own hands instead.” a sly smile crossed his face. “Didn’t you see her? She’s so fucking cute. We could have some fun with her. Let her think that we will call the cops, make her feel desperate enough to do ANYTHING to get away with it.” Jake laughed and his eyes sparkled.
“I’m not sure about that, man. We could get in trouble for that.” I couldn’t believe what he'd said.
“Don’t worry about that. If you don’t say, I don’t say, who else is going to know? All the cameras are broken, and I haven’t replaced them yet. No one gives a fuck, Mark.” he padded me on my shoulder and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“You think so?” I was immediately convinced since I really liked what I'd seen earlier.
He exasperatedly rolled his eyes.
“You go back in there and get her to do whatever the fuck you want! Or you want me to take this? Then you just sit here and wait then, I’m the store manager anyway.”
I weighed my options and thought I shouldn’t let this pass me. I nodded at him, straightened my face and walked back to the room. She was sitting at the table with her head down in her hands when I walked in. She shot up and I could tell from her running make-up and red, puffy cheeks that she’d been crying the entire time.
"Did you call the police?" her voice was shaking.
I asked for her name but couldn’t recall what exactly her answer was. Then I reached for her backpack, going through it briefly and found her ID card stating that she was, to my surprise, exactly 18 years of age. My eyes glazed up to meet her wide worried eyes that glared at me in fright.
“How old are you?” knowing the answer already didn’t stop me from asking the question. I just wanted to check if she was willing to tell me the truth after she had confessed to me.
"E-e-eighteen," She stuttered and said softly, almost in a whisper.
“Eighteen!” I repeated with a sigh, “and you couldn’t wait until 21?” I had now started to enjoy my role of authority over the shaky little girl. I strolled around the room, slowly and calmly, with my eyes fixated on her quivering frame, like a lion playing with his pray.
“So, you came in my shop.” It wasn’t exactly mine, like I said, the power was far too sweet to deny.
"Y-yes!" She stuttered.
"Yes sir!" I corrected, crossing my arms and stopping myself right in front of her.
"Yes sir!” she repeated obediently,” I’m sorry! I'll never do it again,” she sobbed, looked down to the space between her hands laying flat on the table, “I swear!"
"Save it!" I snapped. “You’re a bad little girl, aren’t you?”
She groaned and buried her face again; I bet she was trying to figure her way out of the situation.
"I'm sorry! God! I'm so stupid!" I sat back, letting her cry it out for a little bit.
Finally, the sobbing subsided and she stared up at me, her eyes bloodshot, her make-up smeared, but just as cute as ever.
“Well, apologizing is unfortunately not enough. Now what should we do with you if we aren’t going to call the cops?” I decided to play with her a little, glazing through the window and I saw Jake smile from ear to ear.
“Who was that in the car?” I asked and poor Ashley kept silent. Like a good thief, she tried to take defense for her team, but I guess that the team wasn’t ready to do the same for her.
“WHO WAS THAT?” my voice went louder and firmer, causing her to shiver even more, but managed to crack open her sealed lips.
“That was Mike, my boyfriend, and his friend.”
“They fled and you’re the one who’s going to take the fall for this, understand?”
She kept her eyes on the same spot; she bit her lower lips in pain from being betrayed. I looked up at Jake who looked extremely amused at the scene. This must have reminded him of one of the CSI investigation teams.
“Understand?” I shouted at her again when she eventually nodded. A tear dripped on the table and she looked up at me.
“Please don’t call the cops or my parents, I’ll do anything, ANYTHING. Please. If my mom finds out about this, I’m screwed. Please!” she begged as her tiny hands reached for mine.
Before I could say anything, the door swung open and Jake unexpectedly walked in.
“You say anything, huh?” Jake repeated. He wasn’t hiding his agenda and went straightforward.
“I’ll do anything. Please. I’ll clean, shelf, wash, anything. Please.”
Now it was Jake’s turn to play the scene, he continued, “ We don’t need any cleaning up around here, and you’re obviously too short for shelving. Let me see, stand up!” he commanded, amused and enjoyed being in power.
Ashley slowly got up. She was a petite girl, definitely no more than 5 feet 2 in height and, judging from her fragile frame, she was about 90 pounds or less. Jake slowly circled her and the look on his face was nothing but pure lust to take over this little girl. He knew that she’d do whatever we asked her to.