The Waitress
None noted their entrance. It was the tail end of the lunch rush, still busy with the midday crowd. There was more to it than that, though, as few took notice of them at all that afternoon. The first response to their presence came when the man cleared his throat. “Excuse me, miss, we require service.”
Anita Holmes turned at the sound. Her gaze caught first the slight Asian woman. She had time only to determine that the woman was exotically beautiful, in a black bodysuit and white jacket, before her the man captured her attention. She recognized that he was tall because she had to look up to see his . . .
. . . eyes. For a time, she couldn’t see anything else. They peeled her layer by layer, exposing everything about her. At last, she realized that she was staring. “Wel . . . welcome to the Monaco,” she stammered. “A table for two?”
The man continued to examine her for a moment, causing Anita to shiver. “Is this the one you wanted, Yumi?” he finally asked his companion.
“Yes, master,” she replied, offering Anita a smile that felt somehow predatory.
“Very well. Yes, miss, we would like a table for two.”
She swallowed and nodded. “If you would follow me, sir.” She grabbed two menus, and then halted as he reached out to tap her shoulder with his silver-chased walking stick.
“Master. You will call me master.”
An isolated part of her mind raced, wondering if it was wrong that the title felt comfortable, but the rest of her responded. “Yes, master.” Yumi smiled again as Anita felt a warmth both in her face and elsewhere.
She hid her discomfort by turning away from them and finding an empty table. As she led them to it, she was inordinately conscious of her stride and whether her slacks made her ass look good. She stopped at an open table and found she was reluctant to face them again. She did so, trying to focus on the woman as she gestured for them to take their seats. Her jacket was a creamy silk with some sort of pattern worked into it with silver thread, and the bodysuit was tight in all of the . . . places. She settled on thinking of them as the places.
Then she looked into those eyes again. Blue. They were so very blue. Icy. Anita placed the menus on the table as they sat. “Can I get you something to drink, master?” she asked. The word slithered out of her mouth.
“I’ll have iced tea,” Yumi said.
“No.” The word was sharp. “No caffeine after noon. You need a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes, master,” she replied, looking at the table. Anita couldn’t tell if she was contrite or teasing.
“I will have coffee,” the man said, recapturing her gaze. “Black. I do not need to sleep. She will have orange juice. And I would like to speak to your manager.”
Anita nodded. “Yes, master.” Yumi licked her lips, and Anita felt almost queasy with anticipation. She told herself that she had no idea what she was expecting.
Her supervisor finished ringing up a group of customers as she approached. “John, the . . . customer at 63 wants to speak with you.” She stumbled avoiding that word. “They just got here,” she continued nervously. “I can’t have screwed anything up yet, can I?”
He looked at her quizzically. “Are you okay, Anita?”
“Yeah, I , uh, think so. I need to get their drinks.” She hurried away.
When she got to the table carrying a tray with a glass of juice, a mug and a pot of coffee, John had just arrived. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes,” the man replied. With the eyes turned on someone else, Anita took a look at the rest of him. He had thinning hair and thin shoulders and hands. He wore a dark gray suit, completely at home amidst elite patrons in the Monaco. “Anita will be serving myself and my companion. No one else. Shift the other wait staff to cover the rest of her tables. Take some of them yourself if you need to.” Anita stood there, letting his voice roll into her, letting it penetrate her and lift her. She couldn’t have described it, but it felt soothing and exciting at the same time. “No one is to disturb us, and no one is to disturb her. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Anita stifled a giggle watching her normally possessed and in charge boss almost bowing to this customer. Then she sobered as the man’s words registered. He wanted her enough to keep her from working other tables? For what?
John walked away, already rearranging the table assignments. Anita stepped forward, and put the beverages in front of the couple. “Do you need a moment to look over the menu?” she asked.
Those eyes focused on her again. “We have no intention of spending just a moment on anything. Especially you.” He took a sip of coffee. “Tell me about yourself. Only the important things, of course.”
She paused, her mind spinning. At last she began, “I’m single. My sex life has been boring and unsatisfying.” Anita had the sensation of watching herself, listening to herself talk about such intimate subjects. It was almost as if another person was speaking. “I want something mysterious. Something romantic.” The idea that she might stop, keeping some part of herself private, flitted through her mind and then vanished like a wisp of smoke. “I want to give myself to someone.”
“Stop,” he commanded and Anita fell silent. “First, you must adopt the proper posture. Stand up straight. Feet shoulder width apart or slightly more. And put your hands behind your head.” Anita complied quickly. The feeling that everyone in the restaurant was watching her was almost overwhelming. “Pull your elbows back, so they are pointing in opposite directions. That’s right. Thrust your breasts out, presenting them to me for my pleasure.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, feeling her nipples harden. She suddenly wanted him to use her, in any way he wanted. The humiliation of being treated this way sharpened the desire.
“Now. You were talking about giving yourself to someone.”
“Yes, Master.”
He reached out and placed his hand on the inside of her thigh. “You realize that once you give yourself to someone, you belong to them, correct?”
Anita was acutely conscious of the hand resting motionless against her leg. She fought against the urge to close her legs and squeeze them together. “I guess, Master. I had never really thought about it.”
“If you give yourself to me, you won’t ever get yourself back. I don’t relinquish the things that are mine.”
The eyes continued to trap her gaze. She could feel the hand touching her, but hadn’t looked down to see it. She swallowed, realizing that he expected some sort of answer. Another, “Yes, Master,” was all she could manage.
“Tell me,” he insisted. “Have you always wanted to be exposed like this? With an entire restaurant full of people watching you be claimed?”
The only response she considered was the truth. “I don’t know, Master.” Yes, that was true. She didn’t know what she had wanted. “If I did, I didn’t realize it.”
“Hmmn. Well, I’m going to have the oysters as an appetizer. Have you ever seen Spartacus, Anita? Not the new show, of course. The movie with Kirk Douglas and Laurence Olivier?”
“No, master.” She cringed at the mild look of disappointment in his face. “I mostly watch chick flicks.”
“Hmmph. I see that I will need to educate you.” She could hear his fingers tapping on the table, but couldn’t look. “I will then have the filet. Rare, of course. Extra rare if possible. Yumi will have the salmon, but without the garlic butter. Just lemon.” He turned to look at his companion again.
Anta almost staggered as the eyes released her. It was only then that she realized that the Asian woman was staring at her with an almost equal intensity, full of hunger. She turned away and fled the table, heading for the safety of the kitchen. She placed the order and took a deep breath, trying to gather herself. She became aware of her extreme state of arousal.
She left the kitchen to check on her other tables, and then remembered that she didn’t have any. Unsure what to do, she drifted back to the couple. They were in conversation, but the woman saw her approach and licked her lips. Slowly. She said something to her master, but Anita couldn’t make it out.
“Ah, very good. I am pleased that you realized you were to be with us when not fetching something for us.” He sat back, regarding her almost clinically. “Unbutton your blouse.”
Anita couldn’t help looking around at the city’s upper crust eating their dinner. He wanted her to expose herself in front of them. Her face colored.
“Stop,” he barked, reclaiming her focus. “I gave you an order. I expect obedience from my things.” His voice was harsh. “Unbutton. Your. Blouse.”
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons trying to undo them. At last her shirt hung open. She dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling dozens of eyes upon her. Thus she was startled when a small pair of scissors cut the straps of her bra. She looked up, seeing Yumi’s hand withdraw the scissors and put them back in her small purse. The scraps of fabric fell to the floor.
“May I, Master?” the small woman asked.
“Gently, girl.” He looked at Anita. She felt lightheaded as nothing happened for a moment. “Why aren’t you in your position?” he demanded. “Step up to the table.”
“Yes, master.” She laced her fingers behind her head and spread her legs, feeling the edge of the table against her thighs. For some reason, she seemed to smell cigar smoke and brandy, despite the city’s policy against smoking.
Yumi reached out again and Anita shuddered as she slid the front of the blouse aside. When the woman’s fingernails scraped softly across her nipples, she felt weak. She might have moaned, but she wasn’t sure.
The fingers brushed the underside of her breasts and then wandered slowly down her stomach, barely touching the skin. Anita closed her eyes as they found the waist of her slacks and started to unbutton them. Her arousal rose despite the humiliation of this public exposure. Or maybe it was because of the public exposure.
With the zipper down, Yumi eased the pants over Anita’s hips. They slipped down to her knees, where her spread legs prevented them from falling any farther. The fingers began teasing the inside of her thighs, occasionally grazing the fabric of her panties. Her eyes were still closed.
“Stop, Yumi.” The touching immediately ceased. “Look at me.”
Anita complied, falling into his eyes again.
“My appetizer is ready. Pull up your pants to get them, but they go right down when you get back.”
“Yes, master.” She pulled them fully on and started to button her shirt.
“Not the blouse. That stays as is.”
Her arms fell to her side, feeling a cool draft of air against her bare skin. “Yes, Master.” Her gaze remained fixed on his until he waved his hand to shoo her off.
Anita moved through the restaurant. None of the patrons seemed to take any note of her, but she could still feel their stares anyway. The cooks tried to flirt with her like normal when she picked up the oysters, but she couldn’t respond.
When she got back to the table, Anita set down the plate and then undid her trousers again, letting them fall to her knees. This time, she adopted the proper stance unbidden. Yumi took one of the shellfish and let it slide down her throat. A small trickle of juice rolled down to her chin. Anita watched mesmerized as she delicately used a finger to wipe it up, and then sucked it clean. She succeeded in making the act look obscene.
As they ate oysters, both the man and his girl caressed her skin. Thighs. Belly. Neck. Every piece of her between her lowered pants and her jaw felt their touch, except between her legs. They ate slowly and erotically, making small talk between themselves. If it weren’t for their hands, Anita would have concluded that they didn’t realize she was there.
When the last oyster was gone, her master looked at her once more. “Take off those pants. And the panties. I want you in nothing but blouse and shoes.”
Anita quickly complied. Her underwear stuck briefly to her from the moisture and then peeled free. She returned to her stance. She struggled to focus on anything other than her pussy and his voice, and failed. He smiled slightly. “You should get our food.”
She blushed again, the humiliation of her condition mixing with the embarrassment of failing him. She hurried back to the kitchen. Halfway, she remembered that she was walking naked through a crowd of the rich and famous. Shame nearly overwhelmed her again, which only fed the fire in her groin.
She almost dropped the tray as she carried it back to the table, but managed to serve them without mishap. Yumi started into her fish, but the man cleared the middle of the table, pushing everything to the side.
“Bend over and lay across the table,” he commanded. “I want everyone to be able to see all of you.”
She burned as she complied. Unsure which way to choose, at the last instant she opted to turn her head to look at him. She knew she was exposed to everyone. Many of these patrons were regulars, and she couldn’t imagine what they would think of her the next time she served them. She found herself hoping, oddly and desperately, that her pubic hair was properly groomed.
Her master ignored her at first, and she found herself desperately craving his attention. She whimpered in arousal and uncertainty. At last, he drew his finger through the juice from his steak and held it to her lips. They parted, and she let him penetrate her mouth. It played back and forth along her tongue. At first all she could taste was the meat, but when it was clean she tasted class. She couldn’t have described the taste, but that’s what it was.
She almost cried when he removed his finger. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Let everyone watch you play with your cunt. Do not make yourself orgasm. You are never to climax unless I give you permission. Understood?”
“Yes, Master,” she groaned. Anita slipped one hand between her legs and stroked her labia. She didn’t dare touch her clit for fear of disobeying him. All sense of time slipped away from her when she slipped two fingers inside herself. She lost all awareness of space and even the other diners. The only things that existed for her were his eyes and her pussy.
He snapped her reverie by ordering her to cease. “Give me your hand.” She twisted to comply without standing up. He gripped her wrist and examined her slick, glossy hand. Anita imagined that she could feel her wetness rolling down her leg. “Very messy. You are a very naughty girl, Anita.”
She felt a rush of pleasure at his description. “Thank you, Master. I want to be your naughty girl.”
He shifted, and she felt a stinging smack against her ass. “Presumptuous.” She thought that he was secretly happy with her, despite his admonishment. “I want you to watch Yumi clean your hand.”
“Yes, Master.” She turned her head and watched as the girl took her hand gingerly. Starting at the palm, Yumi licked moisture from Anita’s skin with long strokes of her tongue. She looked like a cat bathing itself, Anita decided. When she was finished, Anita’s hand tingled and her excitement became unbearable.
“I believe that Yumi would like some dessert,” he said behind her. She looked back to him in confusion. She started to stand up to get menus, but his voice cracked. “I didn’t tell you to move.”
Anita heard the Asian girl slide out of her chair. She moaned as she felt Yumi go to her knees behind her. “Yumi likes both oysters and snails,” her master informed her. “Had you a decent education in film, you’d know what I meant.” Yumi’s tongue made contact with the skin of her pussy, and Anita’s world shrank once more.
The kitten lapped at her, drawing wetness out of her. At last Yumi’s mouth fastened on to her clitoris. Anita began shaking. She cried at the sensation and then screamed as an orgasm flooded through her. As it did, his eyes penetrated her brain. It felt more intense and more intimate than if his cock had impaled her cunt. As the orgasm ebbed, he smiled at her and she felt as if she had cum again.
At last it was over. Anita lay across the table, breathing hard. Yumi sat back down. Very softly, the man said, “I think you should thank her for that experience. She deserves at least a kiss.”
Anita groaned and pulled herself almost erect. She leaned back down and put her lips against Yumi’s. She tasted herself as their mouths opened. Their tongues met and explored each other. At last, Yumi pulled away. Anita stood up, and assumed her pose. She remained sure that others were watching, but she was proud of her state now. She belonged to him and that meant she didn’t need to worry about what anyone else thought.
Her master pulled out his wallet and placed three $100 bills on the table. “The rest is your tip.” Anita felt a surge of dismay that she wouldn’t be allowed to pleasure him, but swallowed it. “Here are your instructions. You are to finish work tonight as you are. No pants, but button up your blouse. If any of your customers want to feel you up, you are to let them. No one will harm you, but your body is no longer yours to decide what to do with. Understood.?”
Anita nodded, feeling the humiliation crawl back inside her. “Yes, Master.” She tried to focus not on what patrons might do to her, but rather that she would be following his orders. That made it feel better.
“Come back to work tomorrow and Thursday. And do the same. Let everyone look at you, and anyone touch you. Then on Friday night, you are to go to Hypnotique. Dress scandalously but with class. Spend whatever you need to in order to accomplish that. You don’t need to worry about money any longer. Bring friends if you would like. I am sure that I would like to meet them. While you are there, it will be obvious what you are supposed to do next.”
He rose to his feet as did Yumi. He fixed her with his eyes one more time, making her quake. “Under no circumstance are you to allow yourself to have an orgasm between now and then. Is that absolutely clear?”
Anita shuddered. “Yes, Master.” As the words left her mouth, she felt shackles embrace her. They were invisible. Intangible. But they locked her to him more securely than any steel. She watched as her Master and his girl walked out of the restaurant. One of his girls. Anita knew as surely as she knew anything that there were at least two.