The Date Part 3

A drink was put in my hand, no one asked what I wanted, I was a mere male and therefore in this female dominated world brainless useful for only one thing.

 

The girls talked about girly things like rugby whilst I stood submissively by my date, her hand resting on my bottom showing her ownership of me.

 

After a while I spied and empty chair and suggested that I go and sit down. In my ultra high heels standing in one position with my feet close together was beginning to make my feet ache a little.

 

I sat down, smoothing my skirt beneath me as far as it would. It was quite short.

 

I sat submissively knees tightly together.

 

The women towered above me, my date absently draping her hand over my breast and almost absently caressed my nipple. Another exercise in ownership.

 

The bar was becoming more and more crowded, mainly with female customers.

The bar staff were being harassed all the time by the aggressive females.

One very pretty boy I knew had had his skirt tucked in his panties and was constantly being groped and pinched. I could clearly see his poor bottom covered in red marks and his stockings had been laddered.

Bar staff had to look perfect all the time and he would be disciplined by the bar manager for having laddered stockings. He would probably receive an over the knee spanking which would add to the pain that had already been inflicted on him.

At least I wasn’t working all I had to do was look pretty.

The evening wore on and my date and her friends became more and more merry.

There were six of them and they decided they would go back to my date’s house and continue the evening playing poker,

“Great.” I thought. “Even more boredom.

We piled in to the cars and drove off.

On the way my date slid his hand up my nylon clad thigh.

“You’ll look after the catering babe won’t you.”

“Of course I will honey.” I replied inwardly seething.

My one night off and I was going to become a waitress for a group of drunken women, no different to every other night of the week.

We arrived at her house and I busied myself pouring drinks for the women and preparing and serving little snacks.

The fact that they were there to serve made me realise that the way the evening had gone had been planned.

The women got rowdier and rowdier.

“I think our little waitress has got too many clothes on.” One of them said laughing.

The others all agreed and my date by now much the worse for wear whispered. “Get the dress off they only want a bit of fun.”