Olivia’s Journey: Chapter 4
Olivia stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror of their master bedroom. A box was placed in front of her house earlier this morning. Her hands trembling as she adjusted the skimpy outfit Rahman had demanded via text that morning: Put on what’s in the box. No bra, no panties. Be here by noon, slut. The white sheer crop top was basically a scrap of very thin fabric, stretched tight over her 36C tits, her pink nipples poking through like hard little bullets begging for attention. The black shorts were even worse—high-waisted but cut so short they rode way up her ass cheeks. More bikini than shorts. The crotch seam digging deep into her bald pussy lips, already damp from the low-level phantom teases Rahman had been sending all morning. Six-inch stilettos completed the …