Get down to business

You begin to subtly unloop your belt from your pants, drawing it out under the table. You lick your lips in anticipation of taking the copper-haired girl's petite, squirming body, right there in front of her family.

You thread the now-free belt back through its buckle, creating a simple leather noose, and you stand, holding the belt casually behind your back in one hand. Your feet carry you over to the table.

"That's enough, Jess. And you too, Brad!" The father had a stern-but-weary tone, obviously worn down by his children's constant bickering.

With your other hand, you begin clearing the plates, stacking them on the far end of the table. The family's own distraction lasts only a moment before the mother's attention is on you.

"Excuse me," Her eyes flash in mild anger and surprise, "what are you doing? Do you work here? We were still eating that!"

"Oh," you try to make your voice casual, "I don't think you're going to be in much of a mood for eating, when you see what's going to happen to your daughter."

Moment of truth. Without further warning you slip your belt around Jess' slim neck and close it. She gasps and her hands flash to her captured neck, prying at your belt. You move just as quick, dragging her forward over the table, bending her over it in one move. You keep your hand close to the buckle and your elbow braced against the wooden tabletop.

She tries to lift her head, to claw at the belt. Struggling only makes the belt tighten, and she goes limp with a coughing, sucking breath.

The mother's mild anger turns to panic. Both mother and father stand up, the father's hand is holding a steak knife and the mother is grabbing at her purse, maybe trying to find a cell phone. Looking at the enraged father, you begin to panic a little yourself.

Your mind races... was this all a lie? But everything had seemed to fit, the casual topless women - suddenly an idea pops into your head, "I'm just going to **** her!" You blurt.

As if by magic, the knife drops from the angry father's hand. The mother's mouth works in quiet, unspoken protest, before she sits heavily in her chair. And the brother, Brad, just stares next to you, his eyes round as saucers.

You almost laugh in relief. Slowly, looking right at the mother, you bend over and lick the cute little ear of your prize, around the outside and moving in. Glancing down again you can see her big, scared eyes move back and forth between her parents. "P-please... no..." her quiet voice is choked with unshed tears, with fear, and with the belt that was tight around her neck.

You shiver in unsavory delight. **** this pretty, young girl is going to be a dream come true. Your dream, and her nightmare.