A female college graduate

My name is Zhang Yuqing. This time last year, I graduated from university. Four years of university life had brought me people I liked, rejected those I didn't, and made me accustomed to a dignified demeanor. It was time to face society. I carried bags of all sizes, certificates of honor, and expectations for the future. I left behind my classmates and friends, and broke up with my boyfriend of four years. I hoped to find a new life in a new city.
July, the scorching season, a crowded job market, low wages, loneliness and desolation—I felt the hardship of life. I majored in management and had excellent grades in school, but the only jobs I could find were clerical and sales positions. The wages were too low to cover living expenses. I could no longer ask my family for money; my parents ran a small shop with limited funds. So I decided to find a job first to earn some living expenses.
I found a job as a mobile phone sales clerk. On my first day, I wore a short, light blue service uniform. The short top and skirt made me look much taller, and the collarless top made my neck look longer. Men who came to handle business always had their eyes on my chest, while the women were always asking questions. Every night when I got home, looking at my service uniform, I felt a sense of inferiority, yet this inferiority also gave me a strange sense of excitement, and I masturbated several times. After masturbation, I felt lonely, empty, and guilty. My colleagues were all girls who had only graduated from junior high school. I didn't talk to them much. They were quite content with their lives; an income of 800 yuan a month wasn't low.
Two months passed, and I couldn't accept continuing like this. Some classmates told me that they did more sales and could earn commissions, which were quite lucrative. So I decided to go into sales, but many sales positions didn't want women, saying it was too tiring and I couldn't handle it. Finally, I found a job selling cosmetics. Every day, I carried cosmetics around the street to sell them, enduring the disdain of passersby. I lived in a shared dormitory, eight people to a room, sleeping on a shared bed. Luckily, they were all women; the oldest was me, 23 years old, and the youngest was only 15. Although the place is big, my performance is the worst. Here, everything is based on performance. The best performers become supervisors, then team leaders, and finally team members. Team members usually call their team leaders "Master." Everyone has a number; I'm number 16 because I was the 16th to arrive. The rules here are very strict; you have to stand at attention when you see a supervisor. There's training every morning and evening. My Master is a girl, 17 years old this year. She's been working for two years since graduating from junior high school. She used to work as a waitress, but quit because she was always being yelled at. She doesn't usually pay much attention to me. She only teaches me some techniques during morning group training, though she teaches the same few techniques every day. When I don't train well, she calls me stupid. I feel a little sad; a once-excellent college student is now being lectured by a junior high school graduate. And I can only lower my head and dare not talk back. During the day, I just follow her around the streets. After two months, my once fair skin has turned dark from the sun, and because of my poor performance, my hair was cut short as punishment. Gradually, I got used to it all. I got used to stopping people on the street to sell things, just like them. I got used to being rejected or even insulted without getting angry. I got used to bowing my head and studying diligently when my mentor scolded me. I got used to the crazy singing and dancing every night.
Tragically, I, who was once so noble, didn't try to change because of my current lowliness. Instead, I often felt sexually aroused because of it. Every time my mentor scolded me, I would feel wet down there, a kind of excitement. And I even wished she would hit me. How could I be so despicable? Sometimes I would deliberately make mistakes on the street, and my mentor would scold me. I would just lower my head. I think passersby must have found it ridiculous. My mentor was a little over 150cm tall, quite short, dark-skinned, and chubby. I'd forgotten who I was. I'm 165cm tall, with a C-cup, which looks quite large, and a perky butt. My waist isn't very slim, so I look a little chubby. My face is quite dignified, except my two front teeth protrude a bit. It's not very serious; you can't tell when I'm not smiling. So passersby inevitably stopped to stare at the scene. Once, because I ruined a deal that was almost closed, my boss scolded me, and seven or eight people gathered around to watch. I lowered my head, unable to suppress my excitement, and my juices probably flowed out again. My boss was furious and said, "You graduated from university, how can you be so useless? Raise your head!" I raised my head, surrounded by mocking glances, and my juices flowed even more freely. Fortunately, my boss was still somewhat lenient and asked if I would do it again. I said no, and that was the end of it.
I gradually grew to love this job because at least I had food to eat, and I could enjoy the thrill of being insulted in the street. I was scolded almost every day at the company. The worst performers had to jump 50 times while shouting slogans like "I want to be better." It was supposed to be motivational, but I took it as a kind of enjoyment of being belittled. The more my breasts bounced up and down, the stronger the pleasure. Because of my poor performance, I was looked down upon at the company. But I wouldn't be hit; that was company policy.
But one night, while sleeping, I couldn't control myself and started masturbating, imagining the scene of being humiliated. I slowly reached orgasm, and I couldn't help but make sounds, my whole body trembling. Because we were in a shared dormitory, everyone slept on the floor. There were many people, and the room was small, so we were very close together. During my orgasm, I lost control again and kicked too hard. I kicked the woman next to me. She screamed and kicked me, yelling, "What are you doing? Get up!" She tried to pull me up. Over the past two months, I'd become a little afraid of her, so I immediately got up. Everyone woke up, and those closest to the light turned it on. When the light came on, everyone was shocked. I was standing in the middle of them, my pants completely off on the bed, wearing only a bra, my thighs wet, my pubic hair sticking up. I lowered my head, not daring to look at them, my hands covering my genitals. Everyone started talking at once, calling me a whore. I finally cried. I was ashamed of my own depravity. I had no choice but to leave that very night. They only gave me a piece of clothing to wear and told me to go, nothing else.
I started looking for a new job, but I didn't know what kind. I thought about doing sales again. I saw a similar ad and went there. But they asked why I left before. I said I wanted to change places, but they said I was unstable. They also said my education was too high and I should be able to find a better job. I decided to look for other jobs and applied for a clerical position. But when they saw how dark I was and how old-fashioned I looked (because I was poor, I only had a cheap shirt that cost a few dollars), they said I no longer had the confidence to go into those nice, clean office buildings to look for work. For the past two months, the people I sold to were all migrant workers from the train station area, and the people I worked with were all rural girls. Suddenly walking into an office building made me feel scared. After being rejected once, I never dared to go again.
I picked up my junior high school diploma and started looking for work. I could only find jobs as a waiter, sales clerk, or internet cafe cashier. On my first day, I applied for a job as a sales clerk at a music store, but they rejected me because I had no experience. They also rejected me for a clothing sales clerk position because I had no experience. A cashier at an internet cafe rejected me because they said my education level was too low, given I only had a junior high school diploma. I could only smile bitterly (because I had lost my high school diploma). Later, I found a job as a waiter at a restaurant, earning 750 yuan a month plus meals. But on my first day, the owner kicked me out for spilling food on a customer, giving me only 20 yuan. My money dwindled. I found a job handing out flyers, walking the streets and alleys. I became a flyer distributor. I've come to accept it now; I consider myself a junior high school graduate. I've almost forgotten the wonderful days of university. I'm handing out flyers while looking for other jobs. Now, I just hope to find a sales clerk or waiter job so I don't have to run around so much.
That day, I went to a somewhat secluded spot to hand out flyers and saw a job advertisement for a female shampoo assistant. I thought getting my hair washed in a salon wouldn't be bad, so I went in. The place was simply furnished with some shampoo and a TV. There were two women inside, the older one probably close to 40, the younger one close to 30. They were dressed very provocatively, their breasts almost entirely exposed, though there wasn't much down there—both were wearing short skirts. I felt uneasy; they had already noticed me. The older one spoke first, asking if I was there to cause trouble. I said yes, and she told me to sit down and poured me a glass of water. She asked how old I was, and I said 23. She then asked how many years I'd worked. I said no, I used to be a waitress. I lied. They seemed dissatisfied because I had no experience. They asked where I was from, and I said **. She said, "Since you've never done this before, we'll have to teach you a lot. It's not good if you offend customers." I quickly said, "No, I'll learn." She said, "How about we start with 1500 a month, plus 30% commission? No room and board included." Hearing all this, I realized my highest salary since graduation was 800 yuan, earned as a sales clerk. I quickly agreed and asked when I could start. They said, "Come tomorrow." I asked about the working hours, and they said 10 am to 12 pm, ten hours a day. The pay was good, so I was happy. I went home happily. I
never imagined a shampoo girl's salary could be so high; I was so stupid to not know that before, and it was so easy to find a job. I took a shower and went to bed early, ready to start the next day. The next day, I got up around 6 am and arrived around 7 am. But it wasn't open yet. It was a very simple barbershop, and the building was quite dilapidated. But what did it matter? My wonderful life was about to begin. Around 10 am, someone finally arrived. She saw me and immediately greeted me, "So early, little sister!" I said yes. She opened the door, sat down, and told me to sit down too. She looked at me, seemingly a little dissatisfied, and asked, "What's your name?" I said, "My name is Zhang Yuqing." She said, "From now on, you can be called Xiao Mi." I was unhappy because ordinary people wouldn't use such a name. But I could only nod and smile, saying okay. She then said, "Why are you dressed like this to work? Change your clothes tomorrow, learn from us." I finally couldn't help but ask, "Why do I have to wear these clothes to work? Is it a rule?" She said, "If you don't wear these, who will want you? If no one wants you, we'll support you, really!"
I said, "I'm here to wash hair, aren't I?" She was getting a little angry, saying, "If you don't know what you're doing, what are you doing here?" I said I really didn't know, and she suddenly patiently explained to me, "It's just giving massages to customers, talking to them, nothing else." I started to feel conflicted, but thinking about having to hand out flyers outside, running around in the sun, and getting scorned, I felt conflicted. I thought I'd try it for one day first. I said to her, "Then you can teach me later." She seemed very happy and said okay. After a while, another woman arrived. The three of us sat in the small house by the roadside. They were all dressed extremely revealingly; one wore a red low-cut tank top, and the other wore a shirt with four buttons deliberately undone, exposing most of her breasts. I was wearing a black shirt and jeans. I looked completely out of place next to them. The morning passed without a single customer. They said they'd help me get dressed. We went inside, and I don't know where they found the clothes, but they made me change into a purple dress, clearly too small. Luckily, it didn't expose much of my chest, just a tiny bit. I changed my pants into the same short skirt as them. For some reason, wearing those clothes made me feel incredibly excited, and I couldn't stop getting wet. She touched my buttocks and said, "They're really big." In the afternoon, someone came in. Perhaps they were worried I wouldn't be comfortable on my first day, so they offered to serve me. There were sounds coming from inside, and I was genuinely a little scared. Could it be sex? I looked at the older woman with some suspicion.
Then, in the evening, pedestrians came and went, and men looked at us like we were merchandise. There were many shops like this around here. They were everywhere. We sat inside, seducing the passersby. On my first day, I wasn't used to it and sat there, afraid to look outside. I chatted with the older woman occasionally. Then another person came in. The older woman said, "Xiao Mi, you can come in." I nervously stood up and followed the customer inside. He was probably in his thirties, a migrant worker, dressed poorly and very unclean. They wanted me to massage someone like that, but I had no choice because of work, so I went in. He lay down on the bed, and I stood there, unsure what to do. He said, "Come get a massage." I sat on the edge of the bed and started massaging, just randomly pressing, my heart pounding. After about a minute, his hand started on my chest, and I quickly pulled it away. He jumped up from the bed angrily, saying, "I've been annoyed by your unwillingness ever since, what? You won't even touch me? Who do you think you are? Do you think I'm paying for this?" I quickly went out to call the older woman, who also scolded me, "How can you be so inconsiderate?" Then she grabbed the customer's hand and made him touch his chest a few times, saying, "A few touches won't hurt anything." I steeled myself, thinking, "Since I'm here, I might as well sit down, for the money." I went inside. The customer first touched my breasts, pulling all my clothes up and unhooking my bra. He was the first man to see my breasts. Even my ex-boyfriends hadn't seen them; I couldn't let him touch them, but now, a migrant worker was touching them so brazenly. I'd become a "leisure girl" serving migrant workers. Fate, why are you playing such cruel tricks on me? After touching my breasts, he touched my genitals. I didn't care anymore, I didn't dare to. And I even got aroused and wet; I was so shameless. After he finished, he wanted me to masturbate. I asked what that meant. He said it meant using my hand on him. I understood. I pulled down his pants and started moving his penis up and down. He ejaculated quickly, my hands were covered in it. I got dressed and went outside to wash up. The service was complete.
Having completed my first task, I actually felt relaxed. I felt this was the easiest job I'd ever had. It was so simple. And thinking about serving a migrant worker, I shamelessly got wet again. And so the first day passed. I went back and changed my underwear; it was covered in yellow stains, probably from my own discharge. I figured since I was in this line of work, I might as well enjoy it. So I decided to go all in and unleash my lewd and depraved nature.
That night, I went out and bought a red bodysuit. Back in my room, I started making it with scissors, doing whatever I wanted. I cut the bottom of the bodysuit short, just enough to cover my breasts a little, and I also cut open the neckline, leaving half of my breast exposed. I put it on, looked in the mirror, and because it was so tight, my breasts felt like they were about to burst out when I cut it open. Luckily, my nipples were still inside, but they would come out if I moved too much. I didn't wear a bra; it was going to be taken off anyway. I also cut my pants short, just enough to cover my buttocks, and the front only reached my upper thighs. I didn't wear underwear either; with so much discharge, it would be a hassle to wash them that night. I seemed to get used to this kind of work on the very first day. I think I was born with this kind of instinct. I was very satisfied, really.
A promiscuous young woman, a new life begins. The next day, I went to work wearing a carefully tailored outfit. Passersby cast scornful and lustful glances my way, which I thoroughly enjoyed, letting my lower body overflow with lustful fluids. When I arrived, the two older women looked at me, stunned, and said, "Oh my, our little Mi is so pretty, you've already figured it out after just one day at work." Then they came over and patted my breasts, saying, "These two are really big." I happily laughed and said, "Yours are very nice too, sisters." Sister Hong said, "Little Mi, you're not wearing a bra? Oh my, I can see your nipples, haha." I looked, and sure enough, my nipples were showing. Because there were mirrors all around, I looked very promiscuous in the mirror, with one nipple sticking out, and my pants so short that half of my buttocks were exposed. When I sat down, almost my entire buttocks were exposed. And I could already vaguely see my pubic hair.
Sister Hong and Sister Lan sat inside, constantly teasing me. I settled down, and they seemed happy too. Soon, a customer came in; he looked very young. The little guy took a liking to me immediately and let me in. I followed him in. He sat on the bed. I thought I should try to please the customer, so I grabbed a cushion and knelt beside the bed. Firstly, the customer liked being treated with respect, and secondly, I could get a humiliating pleasure from being subservient. I kissed him on the cheek and asked him how old he was. He said 18. He asked me how old I was, and I said 23. I asked him what he did for a living, and he said he was a decorator. I said decorating was good; he repaired houses during the day and came to "repair" us at night. I put his hand on my chest and let him touch it. His rough hand moved back and forth on it. He pulled down my clothes, and afraid of tearing them, I took them off myself so he could touch me. His eyes were wide open. I was the prettiest girl in college; so many people wanted to date me, but I never even glanced at them. But now I was naked, letting an 18-year-old construction worker touch me. His manhood hardened. I took off his pants and helped him masturbate. To enhance the pleasure, I took off my own pants and let him touch my vagina. It was the first time someone had touched my vagina, and I was so excited that I kept getting wet. He ejaculated after only a few strokes. He was probably too excited. But I wasn't satisfied yet. I asked him to touch me again. He put his fingers inside me and worked hard inside my vagina, and I moaned. He held me and worked on me, and my legs started to tremble again. I came, I came... I ejaculated, leaving a beautiful trail of semen at the opening of my vagina. I came. After I
got dressed, I came out, my whole body limp. Sister Hong and Sister Lan looked at me with smiles. They knew what I was like from their experience. They came over and asked me if I enjoyed it. I nodded shyly, "Yes, I enjoyed it." They then lectured me, saying that this is what doing this is like, you make money and enjoy yourself, I could do it for a lifetime and it wouldn't be enough, I'd want to do it for two lifetimes. They asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said no. They said they would introduce me to someone. I suddenly had an urge to have a boyfriend because I was so lonely at night. So I actually agreed. They asked me what my requirements were. I said, "As long as he's a good person."
Sure enough, on the third day, they brought a man. He wasn't tall, about my height, chubby, looked like a winter melon, with a mustache on his fleshy face. Sister Hong said his name was Ah San. He was a foreman, very capable. I thought, how could I be with someone like that? Back in school, my boyfriend was a famous handsome guy, so many people envied me. I blamed Sister Hong for finding me someone like this. But I couldn't say anything, so I just said, "I'll think about it." But Ah San said, "Okay, think about it, now give me a massage." I thought I wouldn't give such a scoundrel a chance, but he was a guest, so I had no choice. I had to go into the room with him. He immediately started touching my buttocks, squeezing them hard. Then he helped me take off my clothes. My pants were completely off too. He put his fingers inside me, and my body had already automatically cooperated. I closed my eyes and started wiggling my buttocks. He was very experienced; his fingers moved faster and faster, faster and faster, oh, oh, oh. I almost collapsed completely. I came again, oh my god, so good, I've never felt so good before. His hands were wet. He smiled at me. I lay on the bed, my body still convulsing. That feeling of ecstasy was so good. He sat outside chatting, and I got dressed and went out. He looked at me with disdain.
Then I said something I never expected: I actually told him, "I agree to let you be my boyfriend. I love you." I was completely intoxicated by the feeling just now. I realized I needed a man like this. He touched my breasts and said, "Okay, then come with me now." I said, "Come now? Where to?" He said, "Since you're my woman, of course you'll come home with me." I didn't expect it to be so soon. Sister Hong said, "Go ahead, he's sincere." He probably gave Sister Hong money.
I actually went with him like that. When we arrived at his so-called home, it was actually very dilapidated, a rented place. There was nothing inside, so where would he get any money? I asked him, "What will I do after I lose my job?" He said, "Don't worry, I'll give you something to do." I didn't know what he wanted me to do. That night, he had sex with me seven or eight times, and I felt great every time. I realized I couldn't live without him.

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A female college graduate

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