Hardman Hill
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Hard To ChewChapter 2 free porn video
Mary Tober noticed his stare first. Every time she looked up from a chore Jenkins was looking right at her. Sometimes the night janitor's eyes would be locked on her hips, or her breasts, or maybe even an ankle showing beneath the hem of her skirt as she bent to dust or mop. Being five and a half feet tall, Mary's waist was slim, her hips and breasts round and shapely. Unlike some of the girls in the orphanage, she was particular about her toilet. She bathed daily and brushed her long auburn hair one hundred strokes each night. During the day she kept her hair pinned rather than loose, enjoying the image in the mirror of her creamy skin and long lashed, green-brown eyes framed by a softly bound coiffure. She did not like the way Jenkins showed his enjoyment of her physical attributes. She knew he was looking because when he looked up and noticed she'd caught him again, his face would turn red and he would act as if he were entirely busy at some task all of a sudden.
Mary was sure she did not want to know what he was thinking at those times. Even without knowing she got shivers all over. Jenkins' mouth would hang slack and his breath came quick. It was enough to know that he was thinking thoughts that were most definitely base.
Jenkins weighed much more than his five foot tall frame should have to carry. His huge stomach hung over the waist of his pants. Without suspenders his pants would have fallen, they slung so low beneath his round bulge of belly. The buttons of his shirt strained to stay closed and failed, showing his stained undershirt where it pushed through the gap. His nose and cheeks were red with small veins of even brighter color running right below the surface of the skin.
For the past week the man had begun making ever more obvious advances. She would be darning socks and he would bring in a step ladder and pretend to work on the coal oil lamps. If she put down her work and went to find some other chore to complete, in moments he was in that room. His eyes never left her. His unwanted attention became so uncomfortable that Mary finally resorted to ducking into corners and unused rooms of the old mansion that Widow Worthington had willed to the orphans of Los Angeles.
Then last week Jenkins had gotten braver. Mary came out of the kitchen, her arms laden with dirty kitchen linens, and he walked right into her. The collision was nothing less than an excuse to paw her shamefully. When she bent to gather up the dropped towels, his hands found her legs and worked their way up so quickly she barely had time to jump back to avoid his actually touching her thighs. In the process of rising, Jenkins still reached out and brushed her very breasts. She gasped alarm, then gave him her most withering glare. Mary wasn't fooled when he acted as though it was only a misunderstanding. He blustered that he was only trying to help her regain her balance. But she knew. She could tell. He had taken liberties that no man should take from a maiden of seventeen.
Three days later Jenkins caught Mary in the small broom closet on the second floor. With her back to the hall, as she reached for the broom, Jenkins pressed himself against her from behind. In alarm, she jumped. Jenkins pushed against her more firmly. She was sure that if she hadn't found her voice and called out, there was no telling what he would have tried next. Mary used both her hands to push against the wall of the closet and force the overweight janitor to release her from the confines of the small walk-in, calling loudly for Miss Hamish. Then hands on her hips, she faced Jenkins with the heat of anger rising from her. His face turned an even brighter shade than its usual veined red and he backed out right quick, leaving Mary leaning against the now closed closet door, her breath coming in long, slow attempts to regain her composure.
That same night, finished with a long day's worth of chores, Mary had gone to the girl's bathing room to prepare for bed. Jenkins was normally in his small room in the basement at that time. She didn't even think about him. She was taking only a sponge bath, using a wash rag and a bowl of warm water rather than filling the claw footed porcelain tub. She had unbuttoned the top of her flannel nightgown and lowered it to her waist. Just as she rinsed the wash rag clean and squeezed it of excess water to wipe off the film of soap remaining on her chest and arms, she heard the door behind her squeek.
"Lord, look at that, would ya," Jenkins spoke from behind her.
"Get out of here," she hissed. "You're not supposed to be in here. Get out. Get out now, before I raise everyone in the house and everyone knows how shameful you have been to me. Get out, now." Mary turned her head, looking over her shoulder and keeping her back turned from him to maintain as much dignity as possible. His sudden appearance didn't give her time to even get her gown back over her shoulders. She stood with her hands wrapped in the wash cloth, her elbows pressed against her sides, trying as best she could to shield the sight of her breasts from his lecherous stare.
"Don't get so high and mighty with me missy. I know you want it. It's written all over you." The man began moving slowly across the floor toward her.
"If you don't get out of here I'll scream," Mary warned.
"Go ahead. I'll just tell 'em you asked me to come up here. I'll tell 'em you're just trying to make trouble." The man took another step.
Mary bit at her lip. She knew it was indeed possible that the head mistress would believe him. Miss Hamish was never one to coddle the orphans. She was a cold woman, as apt to believe Jenkins as not. As he reached out to touch her shoulder, Mary moved. Quick as she could, she ducked under his outstretched hand and ran. She was much too quick for his heavy footed stride. Before he could turn around she was out the door, pulling her gown up over her shoulders and running the length of the hall.
An orphanage was no one's ideal place to grow up, but constantly having to watch every move she made just to prevent that toad of a man from pulling her down under him was simply too much to take. Mary decided it was time to talk to the head mistress.
"Miss Hamish. May I speak with you a moment?" Mary knocked first, but immediately entered the office. The thin spinster looked up over reading glasses perched on a long sharp nose. Her gray hair sparkled with strands of silver, all neatly pulled into a tight bun that seemed to strain at the skin on her temples and cheeks. The evening newspaper lay spread before her on her desk. She looked at the girl with obvious dislike, although Mary could not remember ever doing the lady a disfavor.
"What can I do for our star orphan this morning?" The lady's whole attitude made no sense to Mary. In the two years she had lived under this roof, she could not remember Miss Hamish offering her a smile. She never knew why. It was just so.
"I... I need to tell you what happened last night," Mary began.
"Well, what is it? Were the sheets wrinkled on your bed?" Sarcasm was thick in her voice.
"No mam. The night janitor, Jenkins. He... he tried to have his way with me. Cornered me in the bathing room. I only just managed to get away."
"I suppose you did nothing to encourage him?" She flipped over a page of her paper, sniffed at the air with a lift of her nose. "He does a good job around here. Do you know how hard it is to find good help? Lord knows we don't have enough money to pay them what they're worth."
With a huff, Miss Hamish set the paper down and pulled her glasses from their perch on the end of her nose. "Why don't you make the best of it. You might even find you like it. I've finished with this," she indicated the paper on her desk. "Take this down to Jenkins and see if you can make him happy." Where upon Miss Hamish folded up the paper and held it out to her. When Mary did not reach for the paper Miss Hamish impatiently wagged it. "Take it and go. I have no time for your trivial troubles."
Mary backed her way through the door of the small office. One thing the young girl knew for sure, she was not going to take that paper to Jenkins' small dingy room. Putting a hand to her breast, she leaned against Miss Hamish's closed door. She would run away before assenting to Jenkins' demands. How could Miss Hamish speak to her that way, even hint that she should accept the advances of that vile, dirty man? She ran to her room and threw herself across her bed. Pressing her face into the pillow she cried, great big sobs full of noisy tears.
"What's wrong Mary?" Jolene asked. The girl in the next bed was a skinny little thing, a couple of years younger than Mary. Her complexion was unfortunate, and isolated her from the other girls. Mary seemed the only one able to see past it. Jolene's whole face was one pimple after the other pressed against pockmarked skin. Mary had felt kindly towards the girl, regardless, and she and Jolene had become close friends since Mary's arrival two years ago.
"I hate her, Jolene. Almost as much as I hate Jenkins. Miss Hamish wants me to... to service that awful pig of a man. I can't believe she would even suggest such a thing. I can't believe anyone could say such awful things. I won't do it. And that's that!" Mary nuzzled into her pillow, kicking her feet against the bed to emphasize her point.
"Yeh, that isn't the first time I've heard tell of that. You remember Cora? Well when Cora left a couple of months ago, she said she could make out just fine selling herself. Old Jenkins taught her how real good. That's what she said." Jolene clambered off her own bed and moved over to Mary's, patting her on the back softly. "Old Jenkins must have gotten lonely after Cora left."
"You mean to tell me Miss Hamish knew about them?" Mary's eyes opened wide. "She knew that dirty old man was pawing Cora and didn't do anything to stop it?"
"She couldn't have helped but know about it," Jolene went on. "More likely, she set it up herself in the first place. She's got old Jenkins working for just about nothing. She puts the money she's supposed to be paying him in her own pocket. That's what I think. Then Jenkins gets to pick out one of the girls." Jolene's hand continued to stroke Mary's back, but she was looking at the bare boards of the floor. "Looks like you're picked."
"I'll not do it! Not now and not ever!" Mary's brows knit into a frown as she looked at her friend. Locks of hair had fallen loose to straggle around Mary's face, reflecting the disordered feelings inside her.
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"I don't know. Oh my Heavens, what will I do?' Mary wailed into her pillow once again.
Placing her hands in the pockets of her dingy, time worn smock, Jolene toyed with a loose thread she found there. "I remember when Sue Ellen, she got out of here before you came, well, Sue Ellen answered an advertisement in the paper. Got a job as a nanny for some rich people. They sent a livery for her and everything." Jolene's eyes sparkled with her memory.
Mary picked up her head and wiped the back of a hand across her cheek. This sounded like it was worth paying attention to. "In the paper? What kind of advertisement?" Mary scrambled to a sitting position at the side of the bed. Pulling the newspaper Miss Hamish had forced on her from her pocket, she began thumbing the pages apart.
Reaching over Mary's shoulder, Jolene pointed right under her nose. "In the classified section, right here."
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