"You know, I just don't get it," Stan grumbled to his friend Mike over a beer, "why can't women take 'no' for an answer?"

Mike, ever the player, leaned back in his chair and smirked. "What's the problem, buddy? Melissa's been throwing herself at you for weeks, and you're still playing hard to get?"

"It's not about that," Stan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... I like my life the way it is. No strings, no drama."

"Ah, come on," Mike said, slapping him on the back. "You're missing out. She's a MILF with a capital 'M'. You should see the way she looks at you when you're not around. Like you're a juicy steak and she's a starving lioness."

Stan took a long pull on his beer, considering. Melissa had indeed been making it clear she was interested in more than just friendship. Her outfits had become increasingly revealing, and her flirting was bordering on the desperate. But he was a man of his word, and a commitment was not in the cards. Or so he thought.

One evening, Melissa showed up at his doorstep looking particularly... motivated. She was wearing a dress that barely covered her, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. The top was cut so low that her areolae were peeking out like shy little mushroom caps. Stan felt his resolve wavering.

"Look, Melissa," he began, "I know you're into me, but I just don't do the whole relationship thing."

Her eyes flashed with something that could have been anger, but she took a deep breath and composed herself. "Fine," she said, her voice low and seductive. "But if you won't be my boyfriend, maybe you'll be my... special project?"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Special project?"

Melissa stepped closer, her breath hot on his neck. "I'll make it worth your while," she murmured. "I'll do anything you want, wear anything you want. Just... give me a chance."

He could feel his pulse quicken. "Anything?"

"Anything," she promised.

A devilish grin spread across Stan's face. He had an idea that might just satisfy both of them. "Alright," he said. "But only if you agree to some rules."

Melissa nodded eagerly, and Stan outlined his terms. 1. Thigh-length wrap dresses, 2, a 4-inch butt plug at all times, and 3, a vibrator in her pants if she wore them. He knew it was a bit much, but he figured if she was serious, she'd go along with it. Plus, it'd keep things interesting.

The following week, Melissa arrived at Stan's place dressed to kill. The dress was just as he had specified, leaving her long legs bare and her breasts heaving with every breath she took. The fabric barely contained her ample cleavage, and the hint of a plug peeking out from under the hem of her skirt had Stan's imagination running wild.

"Ready for your first assignment?" he asked, his voice thick with anticipation.

Melissa looked at him with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I... I am," she stuttered.

He led her to the living room, where he had set up a camera on a tripod. "We're going to make a little home movie," he said, his eyes gleaming. "You're going to walk around, do some housework, just... be yourself. But remember the rules."

The vibrations from the device in her ass had her squirming from the moment she plugged it in. Stan could see the effect it was having on her, the way she bit her lip and her eyes glazed over slightly. He knew she was desperate for release, and that was just the beginning.

As they moved through the house, Melissa's movements grew more erratic, her hips swaying as she tried to ignore the relentless buzz between her legs. Stan watched, his own arousal growing, as she bent over to pick up a book, giving him a clear view of the plug's base nestled between her cheeks.

When she couldn't take it anymore, she turned to him, panting. "Please," she begged. "Please let me come."

He looked at her, his expression unyielding. "Not yet,"

Stan said, enjoying the power he had over her. "First, we have to get some... footage." He picked up the remote control for the vibrator, turning the intensity up a notch. Melissa gasped, her knees threatening to buckle.

Her eyes widened as she tried to focus on the task at hand, which was to make dinner. She stumbled into the kitchen, her legs wobbly with each pulse of pleasure. Stan followed her, the camera rolling, capturing every moment of her struggle to keep her composure. She chopped vegetables with a shaky hand, her breasts threatening to spill out of her bra with every jerk of her body.

The scent of the food cooking filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of arousal that clung to Melissa. Stan could see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, feel the tension in the air. It was clear she was reaching her breaking point.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Stan couldn't resist anymore. He set the camera aside and approached her, sliding his hands around her waist. "Alright," he murmured, "you've earned it."

With one swift motion, he untied the knot of her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Melissa's body was flushed, her nipples standing at attention. He could see the plug, glistening with her desire, as it moved in time with the vibrations.

He leaned in, kissing her neck, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he whispered, "You can come now."

The second he said it, Melissa let out a low moan, her body spasming as she reached climax. Stan felt the vibrations intensify against his own growing erection, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Pulling out the plug, he slammed her against the counter, his hand fumbling with his belt. She was already trembling with anticipation, her legs spreading to allow him access. He didn't bother with foreplay; they both knew what they wanted.

As he pushed into her, Melissa's eyes rolled back in her head, and she gripped the counter for support. The vibrator was still buzzing away in her panties, and Stan could feel the added pressure against his cock. It was a sensation he'd never experienced before, and it was driving him wild.

They moved together in a frantic dance, the sound of their bodies slapping together punctuated by Melissa's cries of pleasure. Stan felt himself getting closer, the heat in his balls building.

And just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, Melissa reached down and turned the vibrator up to full power, sending them both over the edge. They came together, their bodies shaking with the force of it, the kitchen echoing with their moans.

Panting, they collapsed against each other, both of them grinning like fools. Stan had to admit, this was one arrangement he could get used to.

The next day, Melissa went to work with the butt plug still firmly in place, her body still buzzing from the intense orgasm she'd had the night before. She wore her wrap-around dress with a sense of rebellious pride, the fabric fluttering around her legs as she walked. She knew the rules, and she was going to stick to them, no matter how much it made her squirm.

In court, she couldn't help but feel the plug shift with every step she took, a constant reminder of her new... arrangement with Stan. She tried to focus on her clients, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night. The way he had looked at her, the way he had taken control, it was all she could think about. Her pussy was so wet she was worried she'd leave a trail on the courtroom floor.

As the day dragged on, the vibrations grew more persistent, and Melissa had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her body begging for release. The other lawyers and even the judge couldn't help but notice the change in her demeanor, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in short gasps.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She excused herself from the courtroom, her legs unsteady as she made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and leaned against the cold porcelain sink. With trembling hands, she reached under her dress and turned the vibrator off, her body quivering with the sudden absence of sensation.

For a moment, she just stood there, catching her breath and trying to compose herself. Then, with a smirk, she turned it back on. This was going to be one hell of a day.

Melissa returned to the courtroom, her posture straightened and her eyes gleaming with mischief. She knew that every step she took was sending little waves of pleasure through her, and she loved the secret she was keeping. It was like a naughty little game, and she was winning.

Stan watched her from the back of the room, his eyes never leaving her. He could see the way she moved, the way she carried herself, and he knew exactly what was happening underneath that dress. His cock twitched in his pants, and he had to force himself to focus on the case at hand.

The tension grew thicker by the minute, and Melissa could feel the eyes of the courtroom on her. She knew she had to get home, to Stan, before she lost control completely. The thought of his hands on her body, of him taking her again, had her soaking wet.

As soon as the day was over, she practically sprinted out of the courthouse. She was desperate to get back to Stan's place and let him have his way with her. Little did she know, he had a few more rules to add to the list.

"Welcome back, my eager little slut," Stan greeted her with a wolfish smile when she walked in the door. He was sitting on the couch, casually sipping a beer and scrolling through his phone. Melissa's heart skipped a beat at his words, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

"I have a surprise for you," he said, standing up and walking towards her. He handed her a small, velvet-covered box. Inside was a pair of crotchless panties with a small, delicate chain attached. "These are for you to wear at all times," he instructed, his voice firm but not unkind. "And when we're in public, this little chain will be attached to your plug, so I can remind you who's in charge with a little tug."

Melissa's eyes widened, but she didn't protest. Instead, she stepped out of her ruined panties and slipped on the new ones, feeling the cool metal of the chain against her skin. She could feel the plug moving with every step she took, and it was a constant reminder of her submission to him.

"Good girl," Stan praised, his eyes lingering on her exposed pussy. He reached down and gave the chain a gentle pull, sending a thrill of pleasure up her spine. "Now, let's go out. I want to show you off."

The night out was a whirlwind of sensation. Melissa felt like a live wire, every touch and whisper sending jolts of electricity through her body. Stan would tug on the chain at random moments, making her gasp and squirm in the middle of a crowded bar or while they were crossing the street. People stared, but she didn't care. All she could think about was the promise of what was to come when they got back home.

But Melissa was determined to prove herself to Stan, to show him she was more than just a desperate woman looking for a good time. So she wore the panties and the plug, the chain a silent declaration of her willingness to submit to his every whim.

Stan took her to a fancy restaurant, a place where she'd never dare to wear something so risque. She felt every eye on her as they walked in, and she knew that she was the center of attention. The dress she wore was a deep red, clinging to her curves and leaving nothing to the imagination. The thigh-high slit showed off her smooth, bare legs and the chain that trailed down to the plug was a secret that made her heart race.

Throughout dinner, Stan would lean in close and whisper more rules in her ear, each one making her more and more turned on. "Whenever I touch your thigh, you're to spread your legs wider," he murmured, his hand brushing against her bare skin. She complied, her heart pounding as the cool air of the restaurant brushed against her exposed pussy.

"And when the waiter refills your wine, you're going to slip your hand between your legs and play with yourself," he instructed, his voice a low growl. Melissa's cheeks burned, but she did as she was told, her hand slipping under the tablecloth to stroke her clit as the young waiter poured her wine. She could feel the eyes on her, could see the flickers of interest and shock, but all she cared about was the way Stan's gaze never left hers.

As the meal went on, Stan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, innocuous-looking device. "Let's add a little something extra to the fun," he said, holding up a pair of nipple clamps. They were shaped like tiny mushrooms, but Melissa knew that looks could be deceiving.

With trembling hands, she took the clamps from him and attached them to her sensitive peaks. The sharp teeth bit into her flesh, and she had to bite back a whimper. Stan watched with a smug smile, enjoying the sight of her pain.

"These are going to stay on all night," he said, leaning back in his chair. "And every time I squeeze your thigh, you're going to pinch your nipples until they're as hard as diamonds."

Melissa nodded, her breath shallow and her pussy pulsing with excitement. The clamps were already sending waves of pain-laced pleasure through her body, making every little movement feel like a miniature climax.

The rest of dinner was a blur of stolen glances and subtle touches, each one pushing Melissa closer to the edge. When they finally left the restaurant, she was a wreck, her body begging for release.

In the car, Stan turned to her, his eyes dark with desire. "You've been a good girl," he said, reaching over to give her thigh a squeeze.

Melissa yelped, her hand shooting up to pinch her clamped nipples. The pain was exquisite, and she could feel her pussy clench around the plug. "Please," she begged, "I need you to fuck me."

Stan chuckled, his hand moving to the bulge in his pants. "Not yet," he said, his voice teasing. "We've got one more stop to make."

They drove to a secluded park, the car bouncing over the gravel as they found a spot hidden from view. Stan turned to her, his hand on the door handle. "Out," he said.

Melissa complied, the cool night air hitting her like a slap in the face. She was acutely aware of the plug in her ass and the clamps on her nipples as she stumbled out of the car. Stan led her to a picnic table, the moon casting eerie shadows across the scene.

"Bend over," he ordered. She did, the wood cool against her skin. He pulled down her panties, exposing her red, swollen pussy. "I want you to count to fifty, and if you can hold out that long, I'll give you what you want."

Melissa nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she began to count. Stan's hand rested on her hip, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered more filthy commands. She could feel the anticipation building, her body tightening with every number.

But just as she reached fifty, he pushed her down onto the table, his cock sliding into her wetness with a groan. She felt the chain pull taut as he pounded into her, the clamps biting down harder with every thrust.

The world narrowed to the sensation of him filling her, the pain in her nipples, and the relentless vibrations from the plug in her ass. It was too much, and she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado.

As they lay there, panting and spent, Melissa realized that she didn't just want Stan for his body. She craved his dominance, his ability to make her feel like she was the only woman in the world. And she knew she'd do anything to keep this arrangement going.