She's clearly meant to be table decoration.

'Come here, girl,' you beckon her closer, after studying the menu for a while, allowing the silence to drag on and her tension to rise, until you can see her rocking back and forth on her heels. Emma actually flinches at the sound of your voice, as it breaks through the thick silence between the two of you, but she does obey, drawing reluctantly closer.

Without saying so much as a word, you look the woman up and down, giving her body careful consideration before you reach out and hook your fingers into the waistband of her shorts. She almost moves to stop you, her hands twitching, before she forces herself to stop with a harsh exhalation of breath. In the end, she lets you drag her shorts down her legs until they drop to the floor under the simple **** of gravity.

'Come up here,' you pat the tabletop, picking up your menu again. 'Face me, legs spread. Don't think you get to close them.'

Making a small sound of despair and frustration, Emma climbs onto the table and positions herself in the center of it. She hangs her head, hair falling in a curtain about her face, and slowly parts her legs. Even with her obedience, you still have to push her further open, until you can see the discomfort glimmer even clearer in her eyes. Her pussy is now on display to you and you alone, pink and pale and open...

... And it stays there, as you go back to your menu.

The visual in front of you is entertaining, sure, but you aren't just doing this for something nice to look at; no, this is a show of power, a demonstration that you can do whatever you like to the young Miss Watson without even breaking stride, and she just has to go along with it. You intend to get some good quality time with her during this trip, it's good to make such a statement early on.

Besides, it's an entertaining menu: there's a specific "**** menu" low on the last page, featuring dog food, real food dressed with the kitchen staff's cum, and the ever-present option to have any of it served in a dog bowl on the floor.

You order from the approaching waiter, pointedly ignoring Emma to the point of not even ordering for her. The waiter, in turn, sets the table for one, studiously operating around Emma's body without paying her undue attention, and it's here that you notice something different about the accouterments on this table:

Beside the cutlery, the waiter lays a small silver bullet vibrator, stamped along the side with the Starliner logo. He even winks to you as he leaves, and you grin; you think you're going to like it aboard this ship.