Writers Note: This is a work of fiction. Don't do this stuff in real life. Consent matters. That said, enjoy some fucked up fun.

This is the 10th chapter, chapter nine can be found here - https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1e3vusg/the_good_girl_chapter_9_m35f18nonconmfglory/

I also have an AO3 where the entire story to date can be found, for easier catching up. Link is in my profile.

Jessica rolled over in her bed, reaching for the warmth that had been there all night. The strangely comforting weight that had been draped around her hips while occasionally tweaking her bruised nipples or dipping a finger in her receptive sex. Beyond that, if she started crying, he had squeezed her gently until it had passed. She had cried so much that she didn't think she had anything left to pour out of her. Not that she felt empty. For the first time in a long time, she had felt safe, stupid as that sounded. However, her stomach twisted a bit when she realized he had left. She looked over to the bathroom, but he wasn't there either. It was only then she realized it was almost 7 am. No wonder he was gone. She sat up slowly as the room spun around her. She looked over at the vodka bottle and regretted the extra drinking she had done. She stumbled to the bathroom, shut the door, and threw up in the toilet. As she heaved, men stroked themselves while she voided herself of alcohol and cum. And piss. It hadn't been much, but she felt so dirty that it had even happened. She stood up and showered, ignoring the camera, neither showing off nor hiding from it. It was just a part of her life now, mostly forgotten about.

When she returned to her room, she saw that her phone had received a text. Her heart fluttered, and she ran over to see what it was. She knew Mr. Jenkins was far more likely to hurt her than be kind to her, but she couldn't help herself. Her eyes almost watered when he started by calling her "Jessie."

"Dear Jessie, last night was such a wonderful night. I truly mean that. I'm so glad I finally got to meet the real you. The one you hate. The one you bury away. That person, that Jessie, is lovely. I'd like to meet her more. I know we're closing tonight, so wear the clothes listed below to work, and maybe you'll spend the night at my house instead."

Jessica tried to suppress a squeal. Last night had been hard. She hadn't felt like that for a few years. It was a part of her that she had thought she had managed to bury away. Suppressed to never see the world again. But while it had shattered her emotionally to hear him call her that, to abuse her nipples until they felt like they were being torn off, it also felt good in a way that it had never felt before. She had felt like the room was more vivid, the colors were brighter, and the sex was so much more intense. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking. Part of her wanted to start drinking already. That scared her a bit, and she put away the bottle instead. She looked at his clothing list and blushed. She hadn't ever been dressed like he wanted her to be at work. But she would do it without hesitation if he wanted that as long as she got his smile or he held her as they slept again.

She pulled out the clothes he had requested for her. She hadn't worn anything like the undergarments before. She grabbed the white stockings first, pulling them on. They covered most of her legs, just stopping at her upper thigh. They were solid, showing off her muscles but none of her skin. The crotchless panties were next. She felt silly in them. There didn't seem to be a point beyond the clips that would keep her stockings from rolling down. She hooked them up and then stared at herself in the mirror. Jessica frowned at her flat ass but did somewhat enjoy the contrast of what was covered vs what was exposed. She idly touched her sex as she examined herself in the mirror, then stuck her fingertip in her mouth. She looked at the camera and smiled, giving it a spin, before finishing dressing.

The bra came next. It was one of the "special" bras. While most of them were push-up bras, this one was sheer and had a circle cut out where the nipples were. Jessica blushed at the idea of wearing them all day, then put it on. She had to adjust herself multiple times but finally got everything positioned. Her nipples were pushed out a bit by the fabric, making them seem larger and perkier than they truly were. She felt exposed, silly, and sexy all at once in them. Jessica closed her eyes and thought of Mr. Jenkins pinching her nipples again. They hurt so much, but she thought of last night and wanted that again. Jess shook, terrified by the thought. The history and memories of that came back easier than she liked, but she put them aside. Next was a skirt, black against her white stockings, going a bit above her knees. Nothing explicit or wicked, but the fabric was loose and quickly moved out of the way. The last was a blouse that was just a bit too small for her when buttoned up. That left her with a choice. Either wear it looser and show more cleavage, or button it tight and have her nipples show more. She decided to show more skin. The satin fabric slid along her nipples in a way she had rarely felt before when dressed "properly." She felt... sexy. Sexy had always been associated with bad things in her past, but now, it felt good. Good to be pretty for Mr. Jenkins. To be his good girl. Even if, deep down, she knew he was gonna treat her badly.

She watched herself in the mirror, then slowly hiked up her skirt. She touched herself again, smiling. She felt pretty. Wanted. She hoped he was watching her as she started fingering herself before walking to her bedside table and pulling her Hitachi out of it. She leaned back on the bed, spread her legs, pulled up her skirt, and thought of Mr. Jenkins. Of the men at the adult theater. Of the men before. Of the man before. She panted hard, pressing the head of the vibrator against her clit. She thought of them surrounding her. Looking down at her, jerking their cocks. She thought of how much all of them wanted her, and she felt beautiful, even as they began to do the most vile things to her in her mind. She twitched, jerking, as she had a mild orgasm, just a touch above frustrating but not nearly as intense as she would have liked. Her phone dinged as she picked it up off the table.

"Don't wash your cunt. Let everyone smell who you are," was all that his text said. She blushed, staring up at the camera with its blinking red light. The knowledge that he had watched her made her glow. She obeyed, straightening her skirt as she went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, put on her makeup, and fixed her hair. She frowned at her short hair, wondering if he liked it. She resolved to ask him about it later. She was going to his house. That felt serious to her. It was scary as well. A part of her mind screamed at her that it would only lead to disappointment. That last night hadn't changed what was going on. But she had felt loved as she was held last night, and she would chase that feeling more.

Once she got to work, she struggled to stop grinning like an idiot. She noticed that men were checking her out, mostly Mr. Jenkins. She blew him a secret kiss, ran back to clock in, and started her day. She felt so naughty, so exposed, and in a fucked up way, appreciated. She knew the men weren't looking at her with love, respect, or care. She knew that and didn't care. Then came dinner time. She was heading to the breakroom when Mr. Jenkins called her over to the compactor. She figured he had some work for her to do, but he surprised her. Her heart fluttered and pounded when he jerked her around and pressed her into the filthy space behind the machine. She flinched at a cobweb that clung to her face, but when he shoved her over, all but hidden, she froze and let him.

"Be fucking quiet," he told her as she felt her skirt being pushed over her hips. She gripped the greasy metal on the back of the compressor and bare concrete to her right as her hips were gripped. "You stink of need, Jessie," he told her before shoving inside her wet cunt. He wasn't gentle, slamming his cock in her again and again as he balled her short hair in his hand. Jessica shook with every pump, holding tight as every thrust jerked her forward. It was over almost as suddenly as it began, with his warmth filling her pussy as his thrusts slowed until he just kept the tip in her. Then he was gone, and she felt empty while he wiped his cock clean on the inside of her skirt. Thankfully, the black fabric hid the wet spot he left behind. He retreated, and Jessica backed slowly out from behind the machine. When she turned around, Mr. Jenkins was already halfway down the hall, heading to the breakroom. Instead of going there, Jessica waddled to the bathroom, where she sat for minutes letting cum drip in the toilet. Her prior elation was gone, and Jessica felt cheap and unwanted once again. She bit down a scream, then returned to work, having never eaten the dinner she'd brought from home.

She finished her shift a bit deflated. The looks felt different now, and she felt exposed and not naughty as the night went on. Finally, they were alone as they finished locking things up. He walked up to her, frowning.

"What's the matter? You look so sad," he said with a smile that implied that he enjoyed that look on her.

"I... I... I just don't know what to expect from you," she said, staring at the ground. Because of that, she didn't see the slap coming. She whimpered in pain, holding her cheek as she stared at him like a hurt puppy.

"Good. Now clock out, and let's go to my car. You don't need yours," he told her, and she did as he said. She followed him, and he pushed her head down when they were both in the car. Resigned, she unzipped his pants and started sucking on his cock while he rubbed her head. It felt comforting, and she relaxed somewhat, sucking gently. He didn't seem to want to cum, so she just kept him hard as he massaged her scalp. Eventually, the car stopped, and he pulled her head up. She was in some suburban neighborhood but had no idea where. He got out, opened the door, snapped his fingers, and she followed him. He led her inside, and when he told Jessica to remove her flats, she did.

"Now, I'm gonna explain some things. You will not argue about them. You will not complain about them. That would make me unhappy. You want to be a good girl and keep me happy, don't you, Jessie?" he said with a smile that wasn't one.

"Yes Sir," she said, as her stomach dropped. She felt so small and worthless all of a sudden. He kissed her lips softly, then her cheek, and finally, her forehead. He rubbed her belly softly, and she clung to him, a life preserver in her raging sea of emotions. He gripped the back of her neck firmly and started walking her down the hall. She expected to be led to the basement, to forever disappear. She expected to be led to a sex dungeon full of torture equipment. She expected to be led to a room full of a dozen men. What she didn't expect was a plain-looking office room with a large desk and a computer with 4 monitors, two on their sides on the left and right, and two more, one stacked on the other, in the middle.

"This is what I wanted to show you. You may not know it, but you're becoming pretty famous," Mr. Jenkins said. She was confused, staring at the black screens, then back at him.

"I... I... I don't understand," she stuttered. He laughed, then shook the mouse. The dark room turned bright as the monitors flickered to life. A life that Jessica felt leaving her body. On the screen was her. Her in the bathroom puking up cum. Showering. Using the toilet. Shaving. On another was Mr. Jenkins raping her ass that night he snuck in. Her riding him, telling him to call her Jessie. Her getting dressed this morning. On one of the vertical monitors were hundreds of messages. Men calling her a cunt, a whore, a trauma slut, broken. On the other were live feeds from every room in the apartment, except her roommate's bed and bathroom. Every moment of it, being watched, not only by Mr. Jenkins. Not only him but the whole world. As one feed ended of her past experiences, another started of her at the adult theater. Messages were asking how much she cost for the weekend. If she did animals. What her address was. She felt sick and started to walk back when he stopped her.

"No. Keep watching," Mr. Jenkins said. As she did, she felt him stripping off her clothes. As Jessica watched men fuck her throat raw, as men chatted about what raping her would be like, Mr. Jenkins pulled down her skirt and tossed it aside. While she saw her roommate smoking her bong in just a t-shirt and as Jessica masturbated on her bed on another screen, he unbuttoned her blouse and removed it. Jess cried softly as he started fondling her nipples. He mashed them between his fingertips until she sobbed, grinding his cock against her ass. "Jessie... only one person ever called you that. Am I right?" She nodded as he started jerking on her nipples, making her wince in pain. Her breathing grew erratic, and her heart thundered in her chest as his breathing warmed her neck.

"Y... y... y... y... yes Sir," she finally forced out as her stutter worsened.

"He's the one who made you like this. You hated it, but you loved him. Right?" he asked. Jessica's nipples felt like they were about to be torn off. The pain was unbearable, and her legs were shaking.

"Y... y... y... yes," she said. Jessica began to hyperventilate, feeling dizzy.

"I'm selling your videos, Jessie. Hundreds of strangers have seen you in the adult theater, sucking even more strangers cocks. Hundreds have watched me abuse your ass as you froze and bawled like a baby. Hundreds are begging to have access to you. And you know what, Jessie?" he said as he bent her over the desk and started fingering her cunt and ass with his middle finger and his thumb. "You are gonna thank me for this. You are gonna thank me, then I'm gonna piss down your throat. And then, I'm gonna hurt you in my bedroom. And you'll thank me for that, too. You know why?"

"W... w... w... w... why?" Jessica asked, her body shaking against the cold table as her holes were molested.

"Because after that, you're gonna beg me to hold you as you cry. You'll want to be held, spooned, and told you're a good girl. You're gonna do all that, or you can walk out of my apartment and be fucking alone like you feel you deserve. The choice is yours, Jessie."

Jessie fought back her tears. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go. She wanted to stand up for herself. Instead, she knelt before him and opened her lips. She tried not to think as the hot, salty rush filled her mouth. She focused on swallowing, but no matter how much she gulped, it wasn't enough. It filled her mouth, drenching every crevice of it. She looked up at him, her eyes red and wet, and saw him smiling. When she saw that, she swallowed faster, gripping his legs. With that smile, she knew she could, and would, do anything. Finally, the flow stopped, and she finished swallowing the bitter fluid as her stomach churned. She wiped her lips, trembling, almost in shock.

"What do we say?" he said, his thumb on her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"T... Thank you, Sir. Thank you."