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.
