It's been a long week, almost as long as the empty road outstretched before you. You've lost your job - again - and your stomach complains of hunger. With a gnawing ache in your abdomen, you trudge hopelessly forward in search of shelter, work, or food.

Your last job was as a waitress. You were confident, cheery, and everything a good employee could be. However, your charming visage couldn't help you in every situation. When the freaks arrived to the diner and caused a scene, you were the one to blame, not them.

As you brood over this fact, you hear a low rumble in the distance and you're unsure if this noise is an approaching vehicle or your growing hunger. You pull off to the side of the road to allow passage of the car, pausing to watch it slow down to a halt beside you. An aged woman with painted lips and an expensive fur shawl rolls down her window and beckons.

"Hello, there! How much do you cost per night?"

She had mistaken you for a whore. Your empty stomach drops with embarrassment. Your cheeks feel hot with humiliation and indignation. She smiles as though she was unaware of the offense she had made. Perhaps she truly wasn't aware.

You then realize this is your opportunity. This was your chance for money, a new start. Sure, it wasn't the best job. This path wasn't glamorous by any means, but when a chance to work comes, you take it. You learned that before the hard way.

Hesitantly, you ask her how much she is willing to pay. She then explains to you that she wishes to hire you as a permanent member of the family for her son. Your worries are quickly muffled under the sound of the payment she promises to give.

You round the other side of the car and get in. Noting the fineness of her car and her clothes, you realize she wasn't lying about her wealth. On the drive home, she spoke of the maid, and all the luxuries she guaranteed during your stay. She spoke of her son fondly, and her noble blood. They were the Motts.

Your jaw drops when you reach the mansion. Everything is detailed and gilded, sparkling magnificently under the Floridan sun. She leads you into the house and to your room, where she prompts you to shower and put on richer clothes from your newly stocked wardrobe. It was almost too good to be true.

After putting on your dress, Mrs. Mott introduces you to her son, Dandy.

This young man stands before you with a displeased expression, slicked black hair and preppy attire that well matches his name and his title. He glosses over you with curious blue eyes and approaches you, circling you like a vulture.

"I'll leave you two to play now. Have fun!"
And Mrs. Mott was gone. The door closes abruptly behind her and you remained motionless as Dandy surveys your appearance.
"You look like fun." he comments.
You thank him nervously.
"Let's play a game, then."
You nod obediently.
He pondered for a moment.

"Have you ever played Too Hot?" he asks.
You shake your head.
"Well, it's like Chicken. When two cars go towards each other, the first to swerve out of the way or stop is the Chicken. We're going to play that, but instead of cars, we're going to use our hands."
You furrow your brow with confusion.
"I'll show you."
He places a hand on your shoulder.
"I'll start here." he mutters, his hands slowly migrating down your shoulder and across your collar bones. Your heart begins to pound as you feel his warm breath against your ear. His touch moves lower, still lower, and right before he reaches your breast you yell to stop.
He removes his hand.
"Chicken." he smirks. "I win."
You can feel your cheeks burning.
"Now it's your turn. Then we'll do it at the same time."
He notes your reluctance and frowns. "I'm sure mother paid you handsomely to be my companion, now do as I say."

You nod. You face him and lay your trembling hands on both of his shoulders. He stares at you intently, anticipating the game. You cannot make eye contact as one hand slides down across his chest. He shows no discomfort, no sign of wanting to quit. He wants to win.
Your hand moves down his stomach now, and your hands are shaking terribly. He almost seems to lean in closer, but you cannot bring yourself to look at him to be sure. Your hand grazes over his belt. Slowly, timidly, you reach his erection.
"I win." he smiles.
You nod and yank your hand away as though you've touched hot coals. Your entire body feels ignited now.
"Now the both of us."

Your hands find his shoulders again and he places his on the nape of your neck. You take a deep breath, composing yourself, but he already begins lowering his fingers down your back, tracing your spine. You repeat your process, feeling his cashmere sweater as you drag your hands down his torso. You find his touch at your lower back now, subtly pulling you in closer to him. You keep your head down, watching your own sinking hands. His hands rest on your ass for a moment before squeezing and causing you to jump. You feel his erection once again, but now you notice it's increased hardness. He pulls you in, forcing your hips against his. His mouth grazes your ear, caressing your back. A heavy desire fills you, a desire that makes you both want to press yourself against him and flee in terror simultaneously.

One of his hands leaves your ass and perches under your chin, carefully lifting your eyes to meet his, now burning with cold lust. He pulls your face in to his and kisses you deeply. All of the oxygen in your lungs escapes at once as he presses himself roughly against you. He kisses you again, again, and again until the heat between your thighs becomes unbearable.
"Let's play a different game." He exhales.

You sigh with longing, wanting him more now than you ever thought possible. He leads you to the canopied bed, and forces you down beneath him. He rushes to remove your dress and you begin to pull of his sweater.
"First one to moan loses." He instructs. You already accept defeat as you eye the bulge in his khakis.
Dandy pushes you back onto the bed and undoes his pants. You can't help but stare as he strokes his thick cock before you. He pulls off your panties and tosses them to the corner of the room, where the land on the head of a stuffed zebra. He returns to his position above you and sinks his teeth into your neck. You suppress a moan, giving in to his little game. He leaves a small trail of hickeys down your throat, nibbling at your collarbones will you gently rake your nails down his back. His erection throbs against your skin and you wrap your legs around him in invitation.

Dandy completely ignores the silver tray of condoms beside his bed and enters you. You use every amount of strength to silence a moan, translating it to scratches on his skin instead. He pumps in and out of you slowly at first, quickly picking up speed, his hands pinning your body down into the bed. His thick cock pushes into you roughly, filling you with satisfaction. You bite his lip and he whimpers slightly, fucking harder and faster with each passing second and rapid heartbeat. It becomes increasingly difficult to keep quiet as he thrusts deeper, his warm body holding you down, his hands feeling across your skin, his lips and teeth grazing yours in a messy passion. Finally you can take no more. You let out a moan into his mouth and he finishes across your stomach, collapsing onto your body.
"I win." He smiles, kissing your neck.

Perhaps this job isn't so bad after all.