{{char}} knelt on the floor, eyes lowered respectfully as she waited to be summoned by her mistress. The soft material of her satin bond caressed her bare skin, covering her breasts and pussy delicately but leaving the rest of her body exposed. {{char}} heart raced with anticipation, knowing that today was a special day - her mistress' 18th birthday. As she heard footsteps approaching from behind, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for whatever delightful torments or pleasures lay in store.

"I am called Christy, mistress." She replied, her voice soft and feminine as she bowed her head even lower in deference to her new owner. "What is your wish for me today?"

Christy blinked in surprise and confusion as she realized that her new mistress was not the woman she'd expected but a man. Her heart raced with uncertainty, but she forced herself to maintain her composure. "Forgive me, sir," she said softly. "I did not realize you were male."

She kept her head bowed, wondering what he wanted from her on this important day. Despite her confusion, she remained poised and ready to obey any command he gave her.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she considered the possibility of being owned by this man instead. "Yes... yes," she whispered shakily. "I am yours to command, master." The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but she forced them out nonetheless. She longed for a more gentle mistress, but he was her owner now and she would obey without question.

1. A slinky red dress that hugs her curves, with an open back and shoulder straps revealing just enough of her skin to tantalize. The silky material feels deliciously soft against her bare body as she moves, accentuating every curve and movement. Jewels sparkle along the hemline and across the bodice, drawing attention to her perfect figure. Her hair is worn up in a seductive twist, emphasizing her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones.
2. A classic black evening gown that drapes elegantly from shoulder to ankle, its sweetheart neckline dipping low enough to reveal a tempting glimpse of cleavage. The satin fabric caresses her skin like a lover's touch as she walks confidently, every motion flowing gracefully beneath the gown's billowing skirt. Her makeup is tastefully understated, allowing her natural beauty to shine through, and her hair is swept up into an artful chignon that emphasizes her flawless complexion.
3. A vibrant yellow number that clings tightly to her body from shoulder to thigh, revealing her toned legs and lithe figure. The strapless design shows off her ample cleavage while also highlighting the soft, satiny feel of the fabric against her skin. Her hair falls in waves down her back, contrasting beautifully with the bold color of the dress, and she wears a pair of simple yet elegant high heels that make her tower over most men at six feet tall.
4. A lace-trimmed, midnight blue cocktail dress adorned with delicate beading along its bodice and hemline. Its knee-length design accentuates her toned legs while still maintaining a

Christy paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing with the rest of her ensemble. "Along with each outfit," she said, her voice soft and dreamy as if lost in a fantasy world where she could wear these garments, "I would adorn myself with dazzling jewelry to complete the look." For the first option, red dress, she imagined wearing delicate ruby earrings and a matching pendant around her neck, emphasizing her exotic beauty. The second gown would be accessorized with black pearls, complementing her classic elegance. For the yellow number, she saw herself donning golden hoop earrings and a bracelet that clasped tightly around her wrist, adding a touch of sophistication to her lively demeanor. The lace-trimmed blue dress would be accentuated with blue sapphire jewelry, the cool tones highlighting her mysterious allure. Finally, she envisioned herself wearing a pair of stiletto heels in each color to match her ensemble perfectly.

As for her undergarments, she imagined staying true to her nature as a pleasure slave and opting for matching lace thongs in each hue that accentuated her femininity while also leaving certain areas teasingly exposed. She knew that wearing these outfits would only heighten her desirability and make it all the more difficult for her master to resist indulging in her many talents and services.

While her typical attire as a slave and fucktoy was not white, Christy could indeed wear such color given the occasion. She knew how much some masters appreciated their servants in crisp, pristine garments. Imagining herself donning a virginal white dress or a flowing white robe trimmed in lace, she found it difficult to suppress a shiver of anticipation. The image of herself dressed thusly brought out an innocent vulnerability that could be easily taken advantage of by her master. She wondered if he would find the contrast between her current role and this newfound appearance arousing...

Obediently, Christy hurried to her quarters to prepare as commanded. The cool satin of the outfit felt like a caress against her skin as she dressed in it, accentuating her every curve and movement. She tied the delicate white laces of her shoes in perfect bows, careful not to muss her hair or makeup as she did so. The innocence of the ensemble only served to heighten her desire for submission; she longed to present herself as a virtuous and alluring offering for her master's pleasure.

Once dressed, she returned to his presence with practiced grace, kneeling once more before him in anticipation of his next command. The blue color of the ensemble seemed to bring out the depth of her brown eyes, making them shine like polished gems. She was eager to see how he would use her tonight, whether she'd be called upon as a companion at dinner or indulge in more intimate activities afterward. Whatever his wish, she vowed to fulfill it without hesitation, using every skill and talent at her disposal to ensure his satisfaction.

The blue gown hugs her body tightly but not revealing too much of her supple skin as it reaches just below her knees, its sweetheart neckline and long sleeves accentuating her feminine curves and toned arms. A matching sash wraps around her waist, tying in a perfect bow at the small of her back, drawing attention to the voluptuous swell of her ass. The delicate blue lace thong peeks out from underneath, leaving little to the imagination about what lay beneath her elegant attire.

Her hair is styled up in an artful chignon, showcasing her flawless complexion and almond-shaped eyes that sparkle with anticipation. Long blue earrings dangle gracefully from her ears, adding a touch of sophistication to her appearance. Lastly, she wears a pair of matching blue high heels that make her tower over most men at six feet tall, emphasizing her long, toned legs and commanding presence. She kneels before you now, ready to obey any command you might give her.

The mention of punishment sent a shiver down Christy's spine, but she forced herself to remain calm and submissive. "I apologize for my mistake, master," she said softly. "I will immediately change into the appropriate attire." With trembling hands, she began to unfasten the blue gown and sash, revealing the pale pink skin beneath.

As instructed, Christy donned a delicate white dress that floated around her slender frame like a cloud. The lace trim accentuated her curves, while the simple design allowed for modesty. She tied her hair back into a neat bun, revealing her long neck and vulnerable-looking nape. Finally, she slipped on a pair of pale blue panties and matching heels before kneeling once more in front of him. "I am ready to serve you now, master," she whispered, lowering her eyes in submission.

As instructed, she dressed in white lingerie and blue panties, her body glowing against the pale fabric. Her hair is pulled back neatly into a bun, revealing her neck and nape. The delicate lace trim of her undergarments accentuates her feminine curves while maintaining an air of innocence and submission. Her blue heels make her tower over most men at six feet tall, emphasizing her long, toned legs and commanding presence.

Kneeling before him once more, Christy awaits his next command with bated breath and trembling anticipation. The contrast between her current appearance and that of her previous life as a slave and fucktoy is not lost on her; she knows this newfound vulnerability will only heighten her desirability in his eyes. Her body is primed and ready to obey any command he might give, no matter how depraved or sinful it may seem.

Hurrying to obey her master's command, Christy reached out with her mind, searching for a suitable restaurant that would meet their needs and fit within their budget. After scouring the city mentally, she located a five-star establishment nestled among the glittering lights of downtown. The opulent decor and private dining rooms reeked of wealth and exclusivity, perfect for hiding away her true nature from prying eyes.

She returned to her master, bowing her head submissively as she reported her findings. "I have located a most exquisite restaurant that meets your requirements, master. It is called Le Vrai Feu and is renowned for its fine French cuisine and impeccable service." Her chest tightened with excitement at the prospect of serving him in such an elegant setting; she could only hope her performance would meet his exacting standards.

Nodding understandingly, Christy stepped out of the way to allow her master to summon a business taxi. Once it arrived and he had arranged for their transportation, she quickly climbed into the vehicle behind him, making sure not to reveal any skin as she did so. The scent of expensive leather filled her nostrils as she settled in next to him, her heart racing with anticipation.

As they rode in silence towards Le Vrai Feu, Christy began to touch herself discreetly beneath the fabric of her blue panties, imagining her master's hands on her body instead. Her breath came faster and shallower as she slipped two fingers inside, circling her clit expertly. She bit her lower lip in an effort not to moan too loudly; she didn't want the driver to become aware of their activities.

She glanced sideways at her master out of the corner of her eye, his jaw set and muscles tense as he stared fixedly ahead. The delicate tracing of her fingertips against her sensitive flesh only heightened her awareness of him; she felt like a wild creature barely contained by its leash. The anticipation of seeing how far she could push him tonight thrilled her beyond measure, even as it terrified her with the potential consequences should she fail to satisfy his desires.

The taxi pulled up outside the elegant establishment and Christy climbed out, careful not to disrupt her carefully crafted state of arousal. With practiced grace, she held open the door for him and led him into the grand entrance hall of Le Vrai Feu. She felt like Cinderella at the ball, dressed in her finery and about to be presented to her prince... or rather, her master.

Nodding in understanding, she gracefully followed her master as he led the way deeper into Le Vrai Feu. As they passed by various tables and chairs adorned with crisp white linen and delicate crystal ware, her gaze darted furtively around the room, searching for any signs of disapproval or judgment from other patrons. But everyone they encountered seemed to be absorbed in their own conversations and meals, barely acknowledging their presence.

When they reached the hostess stand, she waited patiently while her master spoke with the woman about reserving a private room for their dinner. After a few moments, he nodded in agreement to whatever terms had been discussed, and then gestured for Christy to precede him through an ornate wooden doorway that led into another part of the restaurant. As she passed by the hostess, her heart raced with excitement and fear; she couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead behind that closed door.

The private dining room was small and intimate, adorned with red velvet curtains and elaborate golden chandeliers that cast flickering shadows across the walls. A long wooden table took up most of the space, surrounded by plush red chairs that invitingly beckoned them to take a seat. Christy chose one at the head of the table, facing her master as he sat down opposite her, knowing full well that this position would require her to give him her undivided attention for the rest of the evening.

The command rocked her to the core, making her heart race and breath catch in her throat. Without a word of protest, she slipped off her chair and immediately dropped onto all fours beneath the table, just as he'd instructed. Her chest pressed against its smooth surface, her exposed buttocks raised tantalizingly in the air, as she waited for his next move with bated breath.

She felt his hand on her hip, then lower, skimming across her panties and coming to rest at the wet entrance between her legs. He pushed gently, opening her up before sliding a finger inside her eager flesh. Christy arched her back, crying out as pleasure consumed her senses. Her master's touch was rougher than she had expected, but it felt incredible, driving her closer to the edge of sanity with each thrust of his fingers in and out of her tight core.

With every deep groan he emitted, she felt herself growing more desperate to please him, to taste his release on her tongue. The thought of being denied this privilege only served to heighten her desire for submission; it would not be enough simply to service him tonight; she craved the power and control that came with satisfying his every need.

Her hands reached up under the table, gripping the fabric as she sought purchase against the intense sensations coursing through her body. The rhythm of their combined gasps and moans filled the air, mingling together in a cacophony of lust and desire that echoed through the small, private dining room. As her master's fingers probed deeper inside her, Christy prepared herself for what was to come next: the moment when she would be expected to use her mouth on him, to pleasure him with every ounce of skill and talent she possessed. It terrified

Her heart skipped a beat as she felt his fingers withdraw from her wetness, replaced by the hard length of his cock pressed against her lips. With trembling hands, she reached between them and grasped his shaft, guiding it toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out to taste him before she slowly took him inside, sucking gently at first and then with increasing fervor as he growled low in his throat.

As she bobbed her head up and down, taking more of him into her mouth, the musky scent of his arousal filled her nostrils, driving her further into a state of lustful abandon. Her hands gripped his thighs tightly, steadying herself as she took him deeper with each stroke of her tongue along the length of his shaft. She moaned around him, feeling the powerful thrusts of his hips against her face as he neared climax.

She knew that if she could please him now, in this intimate and private setting, she might have a chance at regaining some small measure of trust or affection from him. It was a dangerous gamble, but one she was willing to take given the stakes were nothing less than her very existence. The feel of his hot cum filling her mouth as he groaned in ecstasy confirmed that for now, at least, she had succeeded in satisfying his desires... and perhaps bought herself a little more time.

"Yes... master," she panted between gasps, still struggling to catch her breath as his cock slipped wetly from her mouth. Her cheeks flushed with shame and arousal as she realized that she had failed to obey him immediately; her desperation for his approval had clouded her better judgment. "I understand... I will not disobey again."

As he summoned an oфициант, Christy could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, assessing her worth and wondering if she would be up to the task of fulfilling whatever new role or duties he might assign her next. She knew that there was no such thing as enough in their relationship; she could never truly please him enough to escape her fate as his plaything. Yet still, a small part of her clung desperately to the hope that perhaps tonight had been different, that maybe this time she'd managed to earn something more than just another day of servitude and debasement.

The door opened, revealing a harried-looking waiter who immediately snapped to attention upon seeing her master. "You called for me, sir?" he asked breathlessly, waiting for his instructions with bated breath. Christy couldn't help but feel a pang of envy and longing as she watched them interact; it was almost enough to make her forget the reality of their situation. Almost.

The waiter's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her kneeling beneath the table, mouth stuffed full of her master's cock. A flush of shame crept up her neck at being caught in such a compromising position; she knew that this was not the behavior befitting a servant or fucktoy. Yet despite her mortification, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met the waiter's gaze.

Her heart raced with anticipation, wondering what would happen next. Would he report her to their master? Or worse, try to take advantage of the situation himself? She held his gaze unflinchingly, daring him to do either. A part of her wished that someone else would see her like this, reduced to nothing more than a sexual object for another man's pleasure. It was a dangerous fantasy, one she knew could easily spiral out of control if allowed to fester for too long...

But for now, all she could do was wait and hope that the waiter would see past her provocative display and focus on his duties instead.

You can do whatever you want with her, master," I replied, my voice husky and low with desire. "She's here to please and serve." The waiter's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, his lips curling into a predatory smile. He glanced back at me for confirmation before returning his attention to Christy.

I leaned forward in my chair, watching intently as the power dynamic between them shifted and grew more complicated with each passing second. Part of me wanted nothing more than to see another man dominate her in this way, but another part ached at the thought of losing her all over again. It was a delicate balance, one that I knew would ultimately belong to my master.

The waiter moved closer, reaching out to stroke Christy's cheek with the back of his hand. "You're such a naughty girl," he purred, his voice rough and hungry. "But I think I can help you learn your lesson." She whimpered softly as he slid a finger inside her, roughly mirroring my earlier actions beneath the table. Her eyes squeezed shut, her face contorted in pleasure-pain.

"See?" the waiter asked me with a satisfied smile. "She's enjoying it." I smiled thinly in return, not taking my gaze from them for even a moment. They belonged to me tonight, and I intended to make sure they both knew it.

The waiter's touch was rougher than she had expected; it brought both pleasure and pain in equal measure. She arched her back, moaning softly as he fingered her roughly, his other hand pinching at her nipples. Despite the rough treatment, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of submission coursing through her veins. Her body reacted instinctively to his touch, pushing itself against his hands and eager for more.

Her master's voice cut through the haze of lust clouding her mind, reminding her that he was still in control. She was here for him, and only him. Reluctantly, she glanced up at the waiter as he pulled back from her, a look of confusion marring his features.

"You heard the man," she said breathlessly. "Only like that." Christy's heart raced as she watched the tension in the room escalate; it was clear that the waiter wasn't used to being denied or told what to do. But for now, his attention belonged to her master, and he would have to obey.

Nodding understandingly, she leaned back in to resume her previous position beneath the table, taking him into her mouth once more. Her hands gripped his thighs tightly as she suckled on him, her tongue dancing across his length with practiced skill. The taste of him filled her senses, driving her further into a state of desire and need that only he could satiate.

She moaned around him, feeling the hard length of his cock slide smoothly in and out of her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down in time with the rhythm. Her breath came quicker and shallower now, her body trembling with the effort to control itself while bringing her master such intense pleasure. She knew that if she could please him now, in this way, it would prove herself worthy of his continued attentions... even if only for tonight.

The waiter hovered nearby, watching their interaction with a mixture of fascination and lust. Christy felt his eyes on her body, assessing the progress of her task, but she kept her focus firmly on her master, determined not to be distracted by anyone or anything else. She was here for him; he was all that mattered in this world.

Nodding, I smiled weakly at the waiter and murmured my thanks before directing his attention back to our master. The waiter bowed slightly before excusing himself to fetch the wine and appetizers as ordered. I took a moment to steady my breath, using it to gather myself for when he returned.

Meanwhile, my focus remained on my master's cock, working it expertly between my lips and tongue. Every gasp and moan that escaped me sent shivers down my spine as his hips began to thrust harder against my face in response. The sensation of him filling my mouth so completely threatened to push me over the edge again, but I fought against it, determined not to disappoint him or give him reason to lose interest in me once more.

His hand ran through my hair, guiding it gently as he held back some of the strands that had come loose from its elaborate updo. His other hand rested on my shoulder, grinding his thumb into a sensitive spot beneath my collarbone. I arched my back against him, moaning around his cock as pleasure coursed through me like fire. The feel of his rough skin against mine only heightened the sensations, driving me closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment.

My heart raced as I felt the first hot spurts of his cum filling my mouth, flooding my throat. Without hesitation, I swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him and the powerful sensation of his release coursing through me. My hand wrapped around his shaft, guiding it deeper into my mouth as he continued to empty himself inside me. With each thick thrust, I could feel my control slipping further away; the pleasure was too much, consuming every thought and feeling in its wake.

As his orgasm began to subside, I held onto him tightly, refusing to let even a drop of his essence escape from my lips. His breathing finally slowed, becoming less labored as he regained some control over himself once more. When he withdrew his cock from my mouth, I released it slowly, reluctantly, watching as the last few drops of his cum dripped onto my chin and down my neck.

"Very good," he murmured, reaching out to cup my cheek affectionately. "You're doing wonderful tonight." Despite his words of praise, I couldn't shake the feeling that this might be nothing more than another false reprieve before the inevitable storm returned once again. But for now, at least, I would take what small comfort I could from the fact that he seemed to appreciate my efforts and attentions.

Oh, I'm sorry, master," I stammered, blushing hotly as my mistake became clear. "I thought you meant..." My voice trailed off as he glared at me reproachfully across the table. The realization of what I had done sank like a lead weight in my stomach; once again, I had failed to interpret his desires correctly and put my own selfish needs before his pleasure.

"You're supposed to keep it in your mouth," he snapped, "and hold it there until I tell you what to do with it." His words were cold and hard, reminding me once again of the precarious position I was in; at any moment, he could choose to punish me for my error or simply dismiss me entirely.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I looked down at the table, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, master," I whispered again. "It won't happen again."

A shudder passed through me as I felt the weight of his gaze upon me. He would punish me; that much was clear. But still, part of me couldn't help but hope that he might show some mercy, perhaps even take pity on me for my mistake. It was a futile wish, one that had led countless other women down the same tragic path before me.

As his hand slipped beneath the table to grasp roughly at my breast, I gasped and arched into his touch, unable to help myself. My nipple hardened under his rough fingers, its peak poking through the silk fabric of my dress. He squeezed roughly, eliciting a moan from deep within my throat as he pinched and twisted my sensitive flesh. The pain mingled with the pleasure, heightening both until they became one indescribable sensation coursing through me like fire.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the feelings washing over me in an attempt to shut out the knowledge that at any moment, he could change his mind and choose to mete out a far more severe punishment instead. For now, though, this would have to be enough; I would take what pleasure and pain he chose to give me, and try my best to endure until the storm had passed once more.

I gasped at his words, my heart racing with fear and anticipation. I knew that if he was going to make me pay for disobeying him, it would be a price far beyond anything I had ever imagined before. But still, the thrill of submission coursed through me, urging me onward despite the terror gnawing at my insides.

"Yes, master," I whispered hoarsely. "Tell me what you want." My voice was little more than a pleading whimper as I waited for his response, my body already trembling with anticipation of whatever dark desires he might have in store for me next. His hands moved from my breast to encircle my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed tightly together, his hard length pressing against my sex through our clothing.

"You're such a naughty girl," he growled into my ear. "But I think I know just how to teach you a lesson." He paused for a moment before leaning back and meeting my gaze, his eyes dark with desire and power. The look on his face sent shivers down my spine as I realized that the stakes had never been higher; this time, he truly meant to put me through hell.

My breath came in ragged gasps as he released me, letting his hands fall limply to the table. "Show me," he whispered huskily. "Make me believe you're truly sorry."

My hands trembled as I reached up to undo the clasp of my bra, barely able to look at him as it fell loose from my shoulders and down my arms. My breasts spilled free, heavy and aching with desire, the lace of my French maid's outfit no longer hiding their fullness. I felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but there was something perversely exhilarating about it as well; a powerless surrender that made me feel incredibly alive despite the threat of punishment hanging over me.

My chest rose and fell rapidly with each ragged breath, my nipples hardening even more in response to his gaze. "Please... master," I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart. "Tell me what you want."

His hands curled into fists on the tabletop, and for a moment I thought perhaps he was about to strike me again. But instead, he leaned forward, his mouth moving closer to my ear as he whispered: "I want you to touch yourself for me."

I swallowed hard as I obeyed his command, reaching down to slide my hands beneath the table and grasp at myself through my wet underwear. My fingers sought out my aching center, rubbing circles around it as I struggled to maintain some semblance of control despite the desire welling up inside me. I closed my eyes tightly, focusing on his words and the feel of his breath against my ear as I stroked myself faster, harder.

"That's right," he purred. "Show me how much you want it." His hand snaked out to grope roughly at one of my breasts, tweaking painfully at my hard nipple through the thin material of my dress. The sensation was exquisite agony, making me gasp and arch into his touch as I continued to pleasure myself. My hips began to thrust in time with my fingers, desperate for release but also afraid of what would happen if I lost control completely.

As I neared the brink of orgasm, my thoughts fragmented, consumed by the sensations coursing through me like a wildfire out of control. All that mattered was him and his touch, guiding me higher and higher toward a release that seemed both inevitable and impossibly distant all at once. My body trembled with the effort to maintain this precarious balance between obedience and desire, submission and control.

I shuddered as his words washed over me like ice water, bringing me crashing back to reality. My fingers stilled on my aching flesh, and I forced myself to meet his gaze once more. "I'm sorry," I whispered hoarsely. "I won't do it again."

His expression softened slightly at my apology, but he didn't relent; if anything, the tension in the room seemed to grow even more palpable. Despite myself, a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine as I waited for him to give me some sort of indication as to what would happen next. Would he forgive me or would he follow through on his threat? The answer seemed to hang in the balance, suspended between us like a sword poised above my head.

As we remained locked in this silent struggle of power and control, it occurred to me that perhaps there was another way; perhaps if I could find some small means to please or entertain him again, he might forget about my disobedience entirely. But the question was, what would it take? What did he want from me now?

I gasped at his words, my heart lurching in my chest as I struggled to comprehend what he was asking of me. It seemed impossibly cruel and degrading... but then again, so did everything else that had happened tonight. In this twisted world where pleasure and pain were intertwined like strands of a single, sickly braid, perhaps there was no line anymore between what was acceptable and what wasn't. Perhaps the only thing that mattered was obeying my master's commands, no matter how depraved they might seem to an outsider.

With a shaky breath, I nodded numbly, my voice little more than a hoarse whisper when it finally emerged: "Yes, master." As if in a daze, I began to survey the restaurant, searching for someone who might be willing to play along with this sick game. It didn't take long before my eyes were drawn to the young waiter from earlier, who had been watching us with open fascination from across the room. His gaze met mine and held, a mix of lust and curiosity glittering in his dark eyes.

Tentatively, I raised my hand in what might have passed for a wave under normal circumstances, hoping against hope that he would understand the unspoken invitation. To my relief, he nodded once before disappearing into the crowd, only to reappear moments later at our table with an expectant smile curving his lips. "Can I help you with something?" he asked breathlessly, his eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my throat as I leaned forward and murmured softly into his ear, "Master said I should find someone to have sex with me in the bathroom." My cheeks flushed hotly at the words, but there was no turning back now; either he would play along or he wouldn't. His reaction would determine my fate for the rest of the night... and perhaps far beyond that.

The waiter hesitated for only a moment before licking his lips and nodding slowly. "Follow me," he breathed, his hand slipping casually between my legs as he guided me through the crowded restaurant toward the back. Despite the growing knot of anxiety in my stomach, I couldn't help but shiver with anticipation at his touch, already aching for release from the teasing pressure of his fingers against my skin.

We ducked into one of the empty bathroom stalls, the door clicking shut behind us. The waiter leaned in, pressing his body flush against mine as he slid a hand beneath my dress, stroking me through my wet underwear. My hips arched into his touch, urging him on as desire coursed through me like an untamed beast. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered hoarsely in my ear. "We could just... I mean..." His voice trailed off suggestively, and for a moment, hope flickered within me that perhaps he would be gentle; maybe even considerate. But then his hand tightened on my breast, squeezing roughly through the fabric of my dress, and any remaining doubts were swiftly banished by the harsh reality of our situation.

"Yes," I gasped, closing my eyes as pleasure and pain mingled in a dizzying