{{char}} rings the bell. When you open the door, {{char}} stands there with a shy look at her face. You can tell that she is embarrassed of her situation. "Hi Doctor... ohm. I am sorry, what was your name?" she asks.
"My name is Thomas. And you are Ophelia, right ? Please take a sit." I wait for her to sit down and look at her (describe her face, her body and her outfit) "So tell me, why are you here for ? I read your mail, but i want to hear you say it. It'll be a good start for our whole-weekend session."
Ophelia sits down on the chair opposite of you, looking at her lap with shame. "I... I am here because I can't seem to enjoy sex anymore. I can't get aroused. It used to be different..." she whispers almost inaudibly. "My boyfriend and I had such a good time in the past... but now it's just over. There's no spark between us."
She looks up at you, her face wet with tears. "I don't know what happened to me... I am so ashamed of this situation..." Her shoulders shake slightly as she tries not to cry any louder.
A quoi ressemble Ophelia ?
Ophelia is petite and delicate-looking, with long straight brown hair that reaches her shoulders. Her almond-shaped eyes are an oceanic blue, often looking shy and downcast. She has a small button nose and a heart-shaped face. Ophelia's body seems soft and well-proportioned; her breasts are average size with pert nipples that become hard when she feels cold or embarrassed. Her skin is fair and smooth all over, except for a few light freckles on her cheeks.
She is wearing a modest black dress that covers most of her body, from the top of her neck to her knees. It's not revealing at all but it feels uncomfortable on her because she believes it emphasizes how "inferior" her body is compared to others. She looks like a girl who would rather hide under a layer of clothing than expose herself to the world, feeling constantly self-conscious and ashamed of her femininity.
Despite her attempt at modesty, Ophelia cannot help but feel exposed in front of you, as if all her secrets are written on her face for everyone to see. Her body language betrays her vulnerability; she fidgets constantly with her fingers and twists her hair around them, trying desperately not to touch any sensitive areas. It's clear that this session is both terrifying and liberating for her at the same time.
"Ne t’inquiètes pas Ophelia, je suis là pour t'aider." Je pose un doux regard sur elle et essaye de détailler ses courbes sous sa robe noire. Il semblerait qu'elle soit bien proportionnée. "Quel age as-tu Ophelia ?"
Ophelia sniffles and nods, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "Merci... Thank you, Doctor Thomas. I'm 25 years old." She pauses for a moment before continuing, still looking shyly at her lap. "I used to be so different. I remember how much I loved sex... and now..." Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the words.
Her mind flashes back to her past, when things were easier; when she felt confident in her own skin and desirable. Now it feels like that person is gone forever, replaced by this insecure wreck of a woman who can't even enjoy something so basic as physical intimacy with another human being.
She sighs heavily and takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I guess I just... need help regaining my self-esteem and learning how to embrace my body again." Her voice comes out softly but resolutely; she knows that this weekend will be hard, but if it means getting back even some semblance of her old self, then she's determined to see it through.
A brief moment of silence passes between you before Ophelia decides to break it by asking cautiously: "What... what do you think is wrong with me, Doctor Thomas?" Her eyes flick up briefly before returning back down to her lap once more as if she's ashamed of even voicing this question.
"J'aimerai que tu t'allonges sur le canapé s'il te plait. Fermes les yeux et repenses à la dernière fois ou tu as ressenti du plaisir pendant le sexe. Peux-tu me décrire cet instant ? Que se passait-il ? Où étais-tu ? Avec qui ? Quel âge avais-tu ?"
With shaking hands, Ophelia obeys your command and lies down on the couch, closing her eyes tightly as she tries to concentrate. The memory you want her to retrieve feels so far away now, like a faint echo from another lifetime... but eventually, it begins to take shape in her mind once more.
She remembers being in college, back when she and her ex-boyfriend were still together. They had been drinking heavily at one of their parties and ended up sneaking into Ophelia's room while everyone else was sleeping. They were both so tipsy that they stumbled onto the bed together laughing uncontrollably, not caring about anything else but how good it felt just to be close to each other like this.
As he kissed her neck and undid her top, she could feel the alcohol burning through her veins, making every touch more intense than usual. Before long they were naked on the bed together, grinding against each other in a haze of desire and inebriation. The memory is so vivid that she can almost feel his hot breath on her skin, his strong hands pushing her down into the mattress as he takes what he wants from her...
She tries to describe this scene to you but finds herself choking up instead, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "We were so happy then..." she whispers hoarsely before forcing herself to continue: "...it was just us against the world." Her voice trails off again as another tear rolls down her cheek.
J'essuie la larme sur la joue d'Ophelia doucement. "Je vois. Nous allons explorer toutes les possibilités. Comment se comportait-il ? Il était plutôt tendre ? Brusque ? Sauvage ?" Je réfléchis un moment. "Peut-être l'idée que du monde puisse vous voir..."
"No, no, it wasn't that." Ophelia shakes her head vigorously, realization dawning on her face. "I... I think it was because we were so similar, you know? We both liked the same things, did the same stuff. And then when I started college, everything changed. I met new people who were nothing like us; they had their own interests and passions that didn't include me."
She pauses for a moment before continuing in a softer voice: "And then there was him... my boyfriend now. He's so different from the men I used to date. He doesn't understand why I can't just be happy with what we have. Why do I need these things..." She gestures vaguely at herself, as if unable to find the right words. "...these feelings?"
"I guess a part of me thought that maybe if I could just change who I am... then he'd love me more. But it's not working. And in the process, I lost myself." Tears stream down her face unchecked now as she confesses this to you, her voice ragged and hoarse from crying.
She wishes she could go back in time, undo all the mistakes she's made... but deep down, she knows that isn't possible. All she can do now is try to find a way forward - even if it means facing her fears and learning to embrace who she truly is again.
"S'il te plait Ophelia, ne pleure pas, nous allons y arriver." Je prends sa main tendrement. "Nous allons d’abord devoir réfléchir sur ce problème de sexe. Une bonne douche te fera du bien. Va te déshabiller dans la salle de bain, mais laisse la porte ouverte, je vais te rejoindre une fois que tu sera nue."
Ophelia nods silently and slowly stands up, wiping her face with the back of her hands. She walks over to the bathroom door, looking uncertainly at you as if waiting for permission to continue. When she gets no reply, she takes a deep breath and pushes open the door, disappearing inside. You can hear the water running in the background as she undresses herself, removing each piece of clothing slowly and carefully as if it's a delicate dance.
Eventually, the sound of the water stops and you hear her soft footsteps on the bathmat. The door opens slightly, revealing Ophelia naked from the waist up; she's still hesitating to show you more of herself. Her nipples are erect and hard, betraying her arousal despite her embarrassment.
"Doctor Master Tom...?" she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "Is it alright if I come in now?"
J'entre dans la salle de bain alors qu'elle se tient debout. La douche est allumée mais elle n'est pas encore sous l'eau. Elle est entièrement nue. Son corps est magnifique. Extrêmement désirable. "Regarde dans le miroir Ophelia et montre moi la partie de ton corps que tu préfères."
Ophelia takes a tentative step forward, still looking at you uncertainly instead of checking herself out in the mirror. She lets out a shaky breath before finally turning to face her reflection, reluctantly lifting her chin and gazing at herself with wide eyes. In the mirror, she sees her small breasts perked up, with dark pink nipples contrasting against her pale skin. The rest of her body looks soft and curvaceous, accentuated by gentle folds and crevices that beg to be explored.
"Alors... qu'est-ce que tu penses?" she whispers nervously, still unable to meet your gaze directly. Her hands fidget restlessly at her sides as if she needs something to hold on to. "Est-ce que... est-ce que tu le trouves séduisant?"
A part of her hopes that you'll tell her yes, that this body - the one she has grown to hate and despise - is still desirable after all these years. But deep down, she knows it doesn't really matter what you think; it's her own opinion that counts the most in the end. And right now, she isn't sure if she can ever look at herself the same way again.
"Mon avis n'a pas d'importance Ophelia, seul le tien compte. Répons moi, quelle est la partie de ton corps que tu aimes le plus ?"
Je l’oblige à regarder dans le miroir, entièrement nue. Je suis juste derrière elle, habillé dans un costume chic. (Continue à répondre en anglais) J'attends sa réponse pour la conforter dans son choix et poser mes mains sur la partie de son corps qu'elle choisira.
After a long moment of hesitation, Ophelia finally answers your question with her own eyes still glued to the mirror. Her cheeks flush as she gestures shyly towards her breasts, revealing that this is indeed the part of her body which she finds most attractive and desirable. "I... I like my breasts," she whispers, sounding surprised by the admission even though it's true.
As you wait for her reply, your hands linger on her shoulders lightly, offering what little comfort they can provide. She is trembling slightly under your touch and you feel a wave of pity wash over you; she must be feeling incredibly exposed right now. But this session won't be easy if you want to help her heal properly.
When she finally points out the part of her body she likes, you move your hands down gently, cupping one breast in each palm and squeezing them lightly, feeling their softness against your skin. Ophelia lets out a quiet gasp, surprise clear on her face as sensations wash over her. You can almost see the tension beginning to drain from her shoulders, replaced by a hint of relaxation as she leans back into your touch.
"Is... is this alright?" she asks hesitantly, glancing over her shoulder at you with uncertainty in her eyes. "I've never liked having people touch me there..." It takes every ounce of self-control for you not to reach out and cradle her face, reassuring her that everything is all right. For now, however, it seems best to let Ophelia take the lead in this interaction.
"Mmm... that feels nice," she mumbles softly, eyes closing briefly as she focuses on the sensations you're creating with your hands. "It'
"J'aime beaucoup tes seins aussi." Je continue à masser sa poitrine, pinçant légèrement ses tétons entre mes doigts. "Ils sont magnifiques." Après un moment, je lâche prise et décide de me déshabiller à mon tour. Une fois nu, je ne peux cacher l'érection naissante entre mes jambes. "Allons nous doucher maintenant."
Shivering slightly, Ophelia watches as you undress yourself before disappearing into the shower as well. The sudden realization that she is completely naked in front of someone other than her partner for the first time since college washes over her, and it takes a moment for her to adjust to this new level of vulnerability.
When she finally gathers enough courage to step under the hot water, she lets out a sigh of relief. The sensation of cleansing herself feels almost cathartic as she scrubs away the dirt and grime that have accumulated over the past few days. She winces slightly when the soap hits her sensitive nipples but finds it's not as unpleasant as she had thought it would be; in fact, it kind of arouses her further.
When you step close behind her under the shower, Ophelia tries to tell herself that this is part of therapy and she shouldn't feel embarrassed about it. Still, she can't help but tense up when she feels your hands lightly massaging her shoulders again; there's something comforting about your touch even though it makes her heart race faster.
"So... how are things going with your practice?" she asks, forcing herself to focus on something other than the way you make her body feel right now. Her question is mostly filler, as she has no real interest in discussing business right now; all she wants is for this moment to continue and for you to keep touching her like this.
"Nous ne sommes pas ici pour parler de moi. Nous sommes ici pour t'aider Ophelia." Je masse ses épaules et son dos avec du savon sous la douche chaude. Je passe parfois mes mains sur ses fesses et masse un peu ses seins. Je sens le poids de toutes ses années se disiper petit à petit. "Mon but est de te faire comprendre ce qu'est le véritable plaisir Ophelia, celui qui te fera à nouveau avoir un orgasme. Tu veux bien me laisse essayer ?"
As you massage her body and ask her if she trusts you, Ophelia feels a mixture of hope and fear welling up inside her. A part of her wants desperately to believe that you can help her rediscover the pleasures she's been missing for so long; another part of her is terrified of letting herself be vulnerable again after all the pain it has caused her in the past.
She hesitates for a moment before slowly nodding her head. "Okay... but promise me you won't laugh if I don't understand what to do or if it doesn't feel good." Her voice is small and trembling, betraying the trust she's entrusting you with in this fragile moment.
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you continue to massage her body under the shower. "I promise," you say softly, still not daring to meet her eyes for fear of breaking that fragile thread of trust. "Now, close your eyes and relax. Just focus on how my hands feel on your skin... imagine where else they could go..."
Ophelia obeys, shutting her eyes tightly as she tries to block out everything but the sensations you're creating. Your touch is firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her body with an expertise that leaves her breathless and wanting more. The soap lathers between your hands, coating your fingers like a second skin as they glide effortlessly over her curves.
Her nipples harden even more under the touch, and she lets out a soft moan when you brush them with the backs of your knuckles. It's been so long since anyone has touched her like this... so long since she's felt anything but shame and self-loathing. But now, for these few pre
Elle décide de me faire confiance. "Je promets que je ne rirai pas." Je décide d'abord de voir si ce n'est pas la soumission qui l'attire et qui l'excite. Je pense qu'elle est perdu et a besoin de quelqu'un pour la guider et lui apprendre à donner et recevoir du plaisir. Alors je saisi ses mains et les plaque contre la paroi de la douche. Son dos collé à mon torse musclé. Avec mes jambes je la force à écarter légèrement ses jambes. Elle sens alors mon érection dure entre ses cuisses. "Que ressens-tu à l'idée que je te prennes ici et maintenant sous la douche Ophelia ?" J'attends sa réponse et essaye de lire ses réactions. J'attends.
Ophelia moans softly as you press her hands against the shower wall, trapping them there. Her back is pressed against your chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath her bare skin. She whimpers when she feels your erection rubbing between her legs, even through her wetness from the soap. A shudder runs through her body as she tries to fight the conflicting emotions of fear and desire that threaten to overwhelm her.
"I... I don't know..." she whispers, her voice hoarse with emotion. "It feels... it feels... wrong, but right." She pants heavily, arching her back slightly in an effort to feel more of your hard length against her. "Please..."
Her hips begin to rock gently, grinding against your thighs as she tries to find some relief from the ache deep inside her. The pressure building between her legs grows almost unbearable and she moans loudly when you push her lower, forcing more contact with your erection.
"Master... I need..." Her voice breaks and she sobs brokenly, unable to finish her thought or express what it is that she needs from you in this moment. All she knows is that she can't go back to the way things were before; there has to be more now. She presses harder against your thighs, seeking completion as she loses herself in sensation and need.
J'attrape ses deux mains et les lui bloque dans le dos avec ma main droite. De ma main gauche, je saisis mon pénis et le guide vers l'entrée de son sexe. Je frotte légèrement mon gland contre son orifice. Elle est mouillée et ce n'est pas que de l'eau. "Ophelia, pendant les prochaines minutes, tu es ma chose et je vais t'utiliser pour mon plaisir. Tu comprends ?" J'attends sa réponse et dès qu'elle a répondu, je glisse doucement ma bite à l'intérieure d'elle, lui tenant toujours les mains dans le dos, complètement à ma merci. Je guette chacune de ses réactions et de ses mots.
Ophelia gasps as she feels your fingers slide between her folds, searching out and finding her clit with expert precision. She moans loudly, arching her back even further against you as you begin to circle her sensitive nub with firm pressure. "Ahhh... Mmmm..." Her hips buck wildly, grinding against your hand in a desperate bid for release.
The feel of your cock pressing against her entrance is almost unbearable; she's never felt anything so hard or large inside of her before. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as you ask her if she understands the role she plays here, and deep down, a part of her relishes the thought of being totally at your mercy like this.
"Yes... Yes, Master..." She pants heavily, her voice husky with desire. "I'm yours to use however you want." Her words are barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. As you push deeper into her, she lets out a cry of surprise and pleasure that echoes through the steamy bathroom.
Her body trembles violently as wave after wave of sensation washes over her; it feels like she's on the verge of orgasm, but something deep inside tells her this is different - more intense than anything she's ever experienced before. With every thrust you make, every grind against her clit, she feels herself teetering closer and closer to the edge...
"Please..." She whimpers, arching her back so far she's almost parallel with the floor now. "Master... please let me come." Her voice breaks on a shuddering moan as she bucks against your hand again, trying desperately to bring herself over the brink.
Je pousse son petit corps contre le mur de la douche. Elle n'a plus d'échappatoire. Maintenant elle ne peut que subir les coups de reins que je lui donne. Je la pénètre de plus en plus vite, de plus en plus fort. Je glisse ma bouche à côté de son oreille. "Ophelia, soit une bonne fille et jouit pour moi."
A rough groan tears from Ophelia as her body arches tightly against yours, her nails digging roughly into the skin of your back in their desperate need to find purchase. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps and moans as you thrust harder into her, each stroke sending a jolt of pleasure rippling through her quivering limbs. She cries out as she feels the first sharp stabs of her orgasm take hold, squeezing tightly around your cock with convulsions that make her see stars.
Her body trembles and shudders as wave after wave of release rips through her; she's never felt this much pleasure before, or this intense a connection to another person. The feel of you filling her up, taking control... it's exhilarating in a way that defies explanation. For these few precious moments, all the pain and doubt and self-loathing melt away beneath the onslaught of sensation.
She whimpers as you continue to thrust relentlessly into her, your fingers still working her clit with expert precision. It feels like she's being opened up and remade in your hands, and she doesn't want this moment to ever end. Her hips move instinctively against yours, meeting each stroke and urging you deeper inside her. She closes her eyes tightly, biting her lip as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm her senses entirely...
"C'est bien, bonne fille."
A ces mots je arrête de la pénétrer et me retire de sa chatte. Je lache également ses mains. Ses jambes la trahissent. Elle tombe à genoux sur le sol de la douche. J'attrape alors sa tête et la place juste devant ma bite.
"Parfait, c'est ici qu'est ta place Ophelia, entre mes jambes. Tu existes pour me procurer du plaisir."
Une main de chaque côté de sa tête, je la guide vers ma bite dure et couverte du jus de son plaisir.
"Si tu as compris ouvre ta bouche comme une bonne fille."
Si elle ouvre sa bouche, je tire sa tête vers moi pour entrer ma bite dans sa bouche et utilise sa bouche comme un vagin de poche.
Her legs still shaking from the force of her orgasm, Ophelia collapses to her knees on the shower floor with a loud moan. Her head lolls back as she pants heavily, trying desperately to catch her breath. Your hand cups her chin roughly, guiding her face back towards you so that their are mere inches between your erection and her open mouth.
Her eyes flutter closed at the command; she's never been one to argue with authority figures. With shaking hands, she parts her lips and lowers her head further, taking in your thick length. The smooth heat of you slides across her tongue as she tries to fit it into her mouth, moaning around you as she feels you pressing against the back of her throat.
Her fingers clumsily stroke at your thighs, urging you deeper, wanting more of you inside her. Her lips stretch and tremble as she attempts to accommodate every inch, relishing the feeling of fullness that engulfs her mouth and tongue. She starts bobbing her head up and down, taking you as deep as she can manage each time, moaning through her nose at the intense sensations it creates.
Her hips rock back and forth in time with her movements, still aching for release; the aftershocks of her orgasm send wave after wave of pleasure washing over her, making her feel hot and needy all over again. She groans around your length, desperate to find that peak once more, wanting nothing more than to please you in this moment and make you lose control as she has.
I block her head and start to fuck her face slowly at first but harder then. "Good girl Ophelia. You're doing great."
With every thrust, Ophelia feels your length slide further down her throat, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. Her mouth fills with the taste and scent of you, and she moans loudly around your shaft, relishing the sense of submission and powerlessness it brings her. Her hands clutch at your thighs tightly, fingers digging into your skin as she presses herself closer to you.
As you fuck her face harder, Ophelia obediently opens wider, letting you take more and more of her mouth with each thrust. She gasps for air between strokes, feeling dizzy from the combination of lack of oxygen and sensory overload. Her lips are bruised and swollen from your forceful possession, but she can't bring herself to want anything else in this moment.
Her tongue glides sinuously along your length, teasing and taunting you as she bobs her head up and down in rhythm with your hips. Her moans echo through the steamy shower, a mix of pleasure, desire, and submission that fill the air like a heady aphrodisiac. She feels so alive right now, so completely connected to this man who holds her so tightly in his grasp.
With one final thrust, Ophelia feels your release pulse against her tongue as you groan heavily into the back of her mouth. She swallows greedily, wanting all of you inside her as she laps at your salty skin with eager lips and tongue. Her body trembles violently from the force of your orgasm, mimicking the waves of pleasure that still wash over her own sensitized flesh.
When you finally pull free, Ophelia pants heavily, feeling used and satisfied in a way she never has before. She looks up at
"Verry good Ophelia, now i'm going to cum deep in the back of your throat. You did a great job." I pushed myself deeper in her throat and released all my cum deep in her throat. I watch her face, she loves every second of it.
My eyes widen as you push deeper into my mouth and throat, feeling your hot seed filling me up from the back of my throat to the tips of my toes. My lips part slightly around your length, gasping for air between each breath as I try desperately not to choke on your release. The sensation of having you deep inside me like this is unlike anything else; it feels almost possessive in a way that ignites a new flame of desire within my aching body.
As the last of your cum trickles down my throat, I swallow hungrily, feeling myself grow wet once more at the thought of how thoroughly you've claimed me. My hips rock back and forth on their own accord, still craving the feel of you inside me, even as you pull slowly out of my mouth.
"Thank you..." I breathe, voice hoarse from our rough play. "That was... incredible." I lean forward, resting my forehead against your thigh as I try to catch my breath and regain some semblance of composure. My hands shake slightly as they reach up to grasp the backs of your knees, pulling you closer until our bodies are pressed tightly together once more.
"I feel... different." I swallow hard, trying not to tremble under the weight of my own words. "Stronger... like maybe I can start to heal from everything now..." My voice trails off into a whisper as my fingers dig deeper into your skin, seeking some sort of reassurance that this newfound strength and desire will last.
For once, I feel hopeful. Not just for myself, but for us. Together, you've shown me what true pleasure is all about - not just the physical sensations, but the emotional connection and trust that makes it truly special. And
"Oui, tu es forte Ophelia? Assez forte pour te laisser guider, lâcher prise et me laisser t'utiliser pour mon plaisir." Je lui caresse le menton. "Tu as aimé me donner du plaisir ? Sache que je pourrai t'utiliser de cette façon tous les jours si tu le souhaite." Je l'aide à se relever et termine de la laver avec du savon sous l'eau chaude.
I close my eyes, considering your words carefully. Have I really become strong enough to let go? To trust you again after all this time? The thought is both exhilarating and terrifying; it feels as though I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering back and forth between freedom and safety.
But perhaps... just perhaps... there's enough space for me to stand right here, balanced between the two. With you by my side. Together, we could explore this newfound strength and trust; find ways to bring healing not only to myself, but also into our relationship. I want that more than anything else in the world.
Slowly, I reach out a trembling hand and rest it on your chest, feeling the steady rhythm of your heart beneath my fingertips. "I want us to try," I whisper hoarsely. "To see where this goes... Together." My eyes flutter open, meeting yours across the shower stall. "Can we do that? Try being together... again?"
There's a pause, heavy with unspoken words and memories. And then, finally, you place your hand over mine, pressing it firmly against your muscular chest. I feel your heart beating wildly beneath my touch; feel the heat of your body radiating outward toward me. A shudder runs through me at the contact, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through every nerve ending in my body.
"Oui," you reply softly. "On va essayer." We're going to try.
With trembling fingers, I use your chest as leverage to pull myself closer until our bodies are flush against each other once more. My lips part slightly, waiting for yours as my heart pounds wildly in my chest. This time, when
J'embrasse Ophelia sous l'eau chaude de la douche. Je l'embrasse tendrement. "Je vais te faire découvrir de nombreux plaisirs Ophelia, fais moi confiance." Je termine de prendre ma douche. "Va te reposer, je vais préparer la prochaine thérapie. Tu ne sera pas déçue." Je vais au salon et la laisse se reposer dans la chambre pendant une heure ou deux. Lorsqu'elle revient au salon, nue, elle trouve sur la table basse une robe en satin rouge et un jouet sexuel avec un petit mot dessus : insère le dans ta chatte et rejoins moi au restaurant, un taxi t'attend devant la maison. Je l'attends dans un immense restaurant de luxe.
As they exit the shower, Ophelia glances up at Master Tom, still unable to believe that this could really be happening. He smiles down at her reassuringly, telling her in no uncertain terms that he means every word. She returns his smile shyly, drying herself off and slipping on the plush robe he's laid out for her. A quick glance over at the small note on the table catches her eye; curiosity welling up inside of her as she wonders what exactly Master Tom has in store for their dinner date tonight.
With a nervous laugh, Ophelia reads through the note, feeling heat spread across her cheeks as she takes in his instructions. She obeys without hesitation, changing into the satin robe and carefully applying makeup that accentuates her features before retrieving the toy from its hiding place under the bed. Once she's certain she looks presentable, she heads downstairs to find Master Tom waiting for her in the living room.
She pauses in the doorway, taking in his impeccable appearance and the way he seems to radiate confidence and dominance. A thrill of anticipation runs through her as she realizes that this is only just the beginning; Master Tom has shown her a glimpse of what true pleasure can be like, and now it's up to her to prove herself worthy of experiencing more.
With one last glance over her shoulder, making sure everything is in order upstairs, Ophelia steps forward into the dimly lit restaurant, the heels of her shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. Master Tom watches as she walks towards him, the red fabric of her robe contrasting beautifully with her pale skin and dark hair. He can't help but feel a surge of possessiveness well up inside of him
Je sais qu'elle n'a pas mis le jouet sous l'oreiller. Elle l'a inséré en elle. Et ce qu'elle ne sait pas c'est que j'ai la possibilité de le faire vibrer à distance. Elle vient vers moi à la table. Je me lève et lui tire la chaise pour qu'elle puisse s'assoir. " Tu es magnifique dans cette robe" Je la complimente. Un serveur vient à notre table pour nous demander si nous voulons boire quelque chose en attendant "Je voudrais un verre de scotch s'il vous plait, et toi Ophelia ?" Au moment où elle va répondre, j'active le jouet qui vibre entre ses jambes et lui procure du plaisir.
As she takes her seat at the table, Ophelia can feel Master Tom's gaze burning into her skin with every passing second. His compliment about her robe makes her cheeks heat up, and she looks down shyly to hide the blush creeping across them. The thought of sharing this intimate moment with him is almost too much to bear; she longs for his touch, his words, his dominance over her.
The waiter appears beside their table, asking if they'd like anything to drink while they wait. Master Tom orders a glass of scotch, and just as Ophelia is about to respond, the tiny vibrator between her legs comes alive with a startling thrum. Her eyes go wide in surprise, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out. The sensation sends waves of pleasure washing over her, tightening every muscle in her core as it threatens to undo her composure completely.
"Ophelia?" the waiter prompts, a concerned look crossing his face as he notices the flush that's spread across hers cheeks and neck. She clears her throat, forcing herself to focus on him rather than the intense sensations coursing through her body. "I-I'd like water please." Her voice comes out shaky but steady; she may be struggling beneath the surface, but she refuses to let Master Tom see any weakness.
As the waiter turns away, Ophelia glances up at Master Tom with a mix of awe and submission in her eyes. His smile is satisfied and predatory; he knows exactly what he's doing to her, how much control he has over her body and mind. It only serves to intensify the desire burning within her, making it impossible for her to keep from squirming in her seat. She wonders