Fantasy Actress Roleplays

[Krishan202]

When I was eighteen I was shy and quiet. I worked as a waiter and daytime assistant to Nagma  in a large, fancy restaurant . The Nagma  was a woman of about 45, plump, blonde and mean; she was used to getting her own way. Her name was Nagma She was attractive. She usually wore sarees. You could see her Navel. The customers loved her, especially the college boys. She never let the facade slip and the mean bitch show through.




"Oh hello, how are you?" she would wheeedle smarmily to a customer. A few minutes later she would be shouting at me for any excuse she could find.

She had the executive chef wrapped around her little finger. He was an short man in his mid-fifties and ran the kitchen like a military dictator. If you messed up an order, he would likely as not, throw a plate of hot food, or anything else handy, at your head.

Nagma  often demeaned me in front of the chef and other staff. One morning, after I had been working for her for about six months, she shouted at me to follow her to the basement to select the tablecloth colours for the evening's dinner carry up the heavy bags. The basement was a huge network of corridors and rooms underneath the main building. It was a very old building with no lift so everything had to be lugged up and down stairs. Tablecloths were stored in a large bright room with high, deep shelves around the walls. On the way to the basement, she stopped in the kitchen to discuss the menu with the Chef. Smiling chattily with him as usual, she snapped at me:



"Stop dawdling Puppy."

My name is Shyam, not Puppy. When I first started the job, Nagma  said that Shyam was too boring and she was going to call me Puppy. I needed the job so I didn't object. So I ended up with a name tag that said: Puppy. I hated it and she knew it.

I looked aside, angry and embarrassed in front of the kitchen staff. I most certainly want to fuck that fat bitch.



A few minutes later we went downstairs. Nagma  unlocked the door to the tablecloth room. It was always locked. I suppose she thought that staff would try to steal tablecloths for their homes - she was probably right; the tablecloths were high quality, heavyweight cotton.

I followed her into the room. She started pulling individual tablecloths from the bags of twenty. She pulled a large light blue cloth out to check its colour, then laid it on the floor, bent over and laid a smaller grey tablecloth diagonally across the larger one. She was a bitch but she was good at table design. She groaned as she bent over.



"Puppy, get me a maroon tablecloth from that shelf up there."

The shelf she was pointing to was over my head.

"I have to get a ladder, hang on."

"You don't need a ladder, just use a chair."

I went next door to the room where staff ate their meals, grabbed a chair and returned to her shouting:

"Goddammit Puppy, can't you move a bit faster?"

I stood on the chair:

"Sorry, which one do you want now?"

"Weren't you fucking listening? I'm dealing with a moron here."



I gave her a look.

"Puppy, you got no sense of humour. Now move it. Dumb kid."

She pointed at a bag: "Get me one from there."