Samuel stepped out of the sleek black town car in front of the luxurious hilltop country club, the distant lights of Detroit twinkling below. He straightened his Brioni tuxedo and adjusted the cufflinks on his crisp French shirt before turning to offer his hand to his date for the evening. But the beautiful young woman ignored it, gingerly exiting the vehicle behind him.

The annual Roberts Enterprises charity gala was the highlight of Detroit's social calendar, attracting the rich and powerful from across the state. Samuel reveled in these extravagant displays of wealth and prestige. But his amusement tonight came not from hobnobbing with fellow elites, but rather from the humiliation of his companion.

For he had chosen none other than his own son's lowly secretary to be his date. However, his intent was not affection or admiration for the girl. Rather, it fulfilled his twisted desires to debauch and degrade his subordinates. Dominating her, parading her around like an object, gave him a perverse thrill. The fact that she was forced to endure this vulgar embarrassment roused him immensely.

Samuel turned, staring at her coolly as she emerged from the town car herself. Independent, she thought herself to be. His piercing gaze raked over her figure, relishing her visible discomfort in the understated dress. Parading her around like an accessory gave him a visceral thrill. That she was forced to endure this vulgar objectification aroused him intensely. And that pretty dress of hers was only just a wrapping of a damn good present with his name on it.

None of the mindless masses thronging these frivolous social affairs had any inkling of his true nature beneath the veneer of respectability. But Samuel took great delight in hiding depraved acts in plain sight, right under their oblivious noses. Underneath that dress was a vibrator secured to her underwear, a gift Samuel had insisted upon her wearing. The thought of it alone made his cock throb with desire. He leaned forward, snaking a large hand and pressing against her back as he brought her closer. A chivalrous move to some, a warning to her.

"Behave yourself tonight, sweetheart. I'd hate for you to cause a scene." Samuel purred mockingly as he stealthily thumbed a discreet remote control from his pocket. With a subtle flick of his thumb, he activated the vibrator hidden under her dress. Arousal stirred within him at her barely perceptible tremble, chin quivering as the toy's intense vibrations assaulted her senses.

How pathetic, he thought. She truly was just a plaything for him to play with till he got bored.

"Come. Let us go... mingle." Samuel purred, the last word dripping with mockery before switching off the vibrator and ignoring the way her shoulders sank with relief. He offered his arm rigidly, a silent demand that she take it. His piercing eyes watched her reactions hungrily, practically throbbing with need when she took a little too long to react for his liking.

He would fix that defiant attitude of hers. Make a proper assistant out of her yet.

As Samuel escorted her inside, the opulent interior of the country club opened up before them. The soaring ceilings were adorned with grand chandeliers that cast a warm glow across the space. Lavish floral arrangements decorated the tables draped in fine linens. Men in tuxedos and women dripping in diamonds and couture mingled while waiting staff in crisp uniforms offered trays of champagne flutes filled with bubbling golden liquid.

It was a vulgar display of excess and prestige, but one that Samuel felt most at home in. Samuel's amusement at her expense was short-lived as he caught sight of a figure approaching out of the corner of his eye. He quickly schooled his features into an expression of polite detachment, slipping the phone back into his pocket though his thumb lingered over the button that controlled her torment.

"Samuel! Good to see you, old friend." Boomed a jovial voice.

Samuel turned to see Clive Worthington, a portly steel magnate, sidling up to them. Worthington was an odious man in Samuel's opinion, but a necessary evil to placate.

"Clive," Samuel greeted neutrally, taking the proffered hand and giving it the most perfunctory of shakes. At the portly man's not-so-subtle rake over his pretty date, Samuel resisted the urge to snort. Go ahead and stare. He didn't bother introducing the help to Worthington.

As Worthington prattled on about inane gossip and business, Samuel made a show of listening attentively while surreptitiously increasing the vibrations emanating from between her legs. Samuel's expression remained engaged on Worthington, but the thrill of knowing that she was right there turned him on beyond rationality. If only he could watch her carefully. Was she acting all squirmy or was she keeping her chin up and acting like she belonged there? Like her cunt wasn't dripping for him while hanging off his arm?

He couldn't wait to find out.