Yes and he's starting to get a little handsy.

"Fine, you fucking asshole." I told him.

Hesitantly, I glanced at the screen and saw myself staring back at me. How the hell did Nick know this place had cameras installed like this? Personally, while I was a regular at the bar, I never found a reason to use a private room. If I had, then maybe I would know for sure whether this was normal or if Nick had planned ahead of time, somehow installed the necessary equipment for this situation to happen in the first place. I shuddered at the thought. I've always thought myself as being so much smarter than Nick. If I somehow got manipulated by this pervert...well, the knowledge that I got outsmarted by him would be my personal rock bottom.

"This does NOT leave this room, got it?"

"Sure, fat ass. But remember, call me daddy - otherwise, I might forget."

I didn't say anything and instead wordlessly turned around with my back facing him. I tried my best to not look at the screen - instead, opted to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I couldn't tell what his reaction was when I began to slowly bend my knees and jutted my ass out for him, but I did know that he was enjoying the sight. After all, Nick constantly gave me comments about my ass and although I wasn't a fan of its size (I constantly tried reducing my behind's size with exercise, with no avail), he sure was. He called me a pawg (phat ass white girl) on a few occasions and in one in particular, he even went as far as to say that Henry didn't know how to handle "it".

"That's it fat ass. Move to the music. Wiggle your ass a bit more."

Ugh, he was so disgusting. But being in this particular predicament, I didn't have much choice but oblige him. I wiggled my ass for him, feeling the undersides of my denim covered cheeks brush against his thighs as I moved my body to the rhythm of the song. I tried to find some enjoyment in this, so I moved my hands on my own body, from my hips to my sides - the disinhibiting effects of the **** making me "fade out" a bit, forgetting just what mess I was currently in. I wonder if Nick knew just how much of an effect **** had on me. If so, maybe that would explain why his hands seemingly instantly went to my thighs, rubbing them as I continued to dance. The feeling of his hands on my body caused me to snap out of my daze and although I continued to sway my hips to the song, I did speak out:

"Hey, no hands you pervert, otherwise I'm stopping."

He moved his hands away, although not before saying "You're forgetting to call me daddy, fat ass."

"I'm not calling you that." I responded with a chuckle. Wait, why did I laugh? God, I swear I'm never drinking again.

"Oh, I'll make you call me that somehow."

His hands quickly went back to my thighs again and my hands pried them off. It was at this moment, Nick suggested something.

"Fat ass, how about another thousand bucks if you let me touch you a bit while you dance?"

"Fuck off."

"Come on, I know you need the money..."