Camren G!p Smut

Little one

The whole thing is pretty much a storyline but if you don't want to read all that just skip until you see red emojis

***********
Lauren back at it again with BDSM Lauren g!p
**********

My name is Camila. I'm a girl who lives in a small town up in the mountains in the countryside. Being our town is primarily populated by people of german and austrian descent everybody here is really tall, except me. My folks were albanian and italian descent, normal people, not even that tall. Happened that I was born to be barely 1.55 meters (5"1')tall at sixteen years old and I'm pretty sure I'm not getting any taller... In a place like this town it draws attention, earning me the nickname of Little Camila or simply "The Little One".

Ok, I don't come to eye just because of it. I have my own particularities, like having silky brown hair in a place full of blondes or the way people say I'm pretty. Nothing I consider special, I'm not shallow enough to think that's something else, but enough to make people notice me. I hate to use that, but I know a lot of help I had was due to that. My mother became an invalid from multiple sclerosis when I was just fourteen years old and my father died even before I even was born. People around us were touched and helped us since then but I never liked depending on others, so I started working at fifteen. At sixteen I had two jobs, both of them lacking any kind of contract or documentation, as I was underage. Anything to avoid sending my mother to any medical facility and having some child welfare official trying to send me to other families.

Ms. Jauregui was a top director brought from abroad, some kind of genius that arrived in our incredibly forgotten town to explore some crazy dream about extracting an absurd quantity of gas and oil from our soil. She was always very well-treated everywhere she went, very respected, but everybody used to talk about her with some fear in their voices. They had a really bad image of her, like some rumor had been shared since she came from her country and made everybody think that, inside, she had something weird, something dark. But as I was really misunderstood my whole life, I wasn't able to judge her.

For me she was, for a long time, only the woman who was always reading a book on the porch of her office on the third floor of the building while I was lunching alone on a bench at the parking lot of the basement. Time or other I saw her looking down, checking on me, so disinterested as I usually am while looking up. The only thing that always intrigued me was her passion for books, after all three months working there and lunching there, after everybody had eaten, and she was always reading, with her feet crossed on the glass porch. But something had changed, as she called me to her office.

It was right before afternoon, when my shift was already over and I was getting prepared to assume my second job, as a waitress at the local cafe. I entered the room quietly, feeling that incredibly cold air conditioning, and positioning myself right before her desk.

"Can you close the door please?" She asked me.

Her voice was soft but somewhat husky.
I turned around and closed it. "What a weird request" I thought. Why might she want to talk privately to a servant? Then I went back to her desk and waited while looking directly at her for the first time. She was a mid sized woman with theses amazing emerald eyes, wearing social clothes, stylish glasses and messy black hair, her always tense and serious face demonstrating something near to curiosity for the first time.

"I must admit, you're way different when seen up close" she said as he had come to a conclusion "That's a compliment."
"Thanks mam." I answered looking at her while she was literally sizing me up. That was disturbing me, the woman sitting on her big chair with that critical look, evaluating me like I was some kind of product.
"I've noticed you watching me in your lunch time more than once. Is there some special cause for that?" She laid her elbows on the desk and enlaced her fingers in front of her face, like she was intrigued.
"Nothing particular. It's just hard not to notice someone reading every day at the same hour."
"So did you always looked at me because I was reading? Are you fond of books?" She asked with a serious tone in her voice.
"Yes mam." I answered.
"Do you read?"
"Every time I can."
"That's a curious thing. Everybody here looks so simple and you..." she stood and walked around the desk, then sat over it, right in front of me. "You have that elegant attitude. The way you talk, the way you don't talk. Its captivated everybody here. Mainly because they know where you are from, know the hard life you have, it's interesting."