"Good morning, Mr. Bennett!"
Bennett had just gotten out of his car when the bank employees stopped in their tracks in the parking lot, greeting him with smiles warr than the morning sun.
Bennett would smile back and greet them. It took so getting used to because back at the bank branch, people didn’t bother with such flattering, sunny greetings for a small fry like him.
But everything changed after coming here.
After locking the car door, he turned and greeted the person who had called out to him, "Good morning, Mr. ...."
The gentleman whose na was replaced by dots seed instantly satisfied, his steps becoming a bit lighter.
In such an atmosphere, he greeted others along the way until he entered his office.
If he encountered a few more people, he felt his mouth would go numb. Recently, he noticed an interesting phenonon: he had rembered most of the bank staff’s nas.
It had to be said; this was a magical little social trick—just greeting them made others rember their nas. Sotis Bennett had to marvel at how the office environnt here was far more complex than at the branch.
He had just sat down for less than a minute when his personal secretary walked in with a tea tray, which included a pot of steaming coffee and so small pastries.
His secretary was a girl of about twenty-three or twenty-four, with long blond hair and a very nice figure.
Perhaps because the bank’s heating was too high, the face of the secretary in the wool sweater appeared flushed and hot. She walked to the desk and placed the tray down.
"Mr. Bennett, your coffee. These are so little pastries I made last night. I hope you’ll try them!" The girl was a bit nervous; a cookie-like little pastry fell to the floor, and she quickly apologized, bending down to pick it up.
Watching the girl bend over, her skirt tightly wrapping around her hips, Bennett’s breath beca slightly rapid. He picked up the coffee without minding its still-hot temperature and took a sip.
The hot coffee in his stomach didn’t solve his restlessness or dry mouth; instead, it made his blood boil even more.
"Need my help?" he asked kindly, anwhile placing his hand on the girl’s skirt, seemingly genuinely offering help.
He could feel the girl’s body quiver slightly, which made him feel a bit presumptuous. He quickly withdrew his hand and apologized for his forwardness, "Sorry, I didn’t notice that was..."
The girl, blushing with embarrassnt, hurriedly stood up, apologized, and quickly left.
He looked at the closed door, then focused on the coffee cup in front of him, seemingly seeing sothing in the ripples on the surface of the coffee.
The warm, soft sensation from earlier seed to linger in his heart. He sighed softly; youth was a good thing.
Bennett was only forty this year, but he maintained himself well, making him appear thirty-six or thirty-seven.
He was married, though his wife was not a result of romantic love but rather a transaction.
His wife’s father was a mid-level manager at the bank. Through his connections, Bennett successfully joined the bank. However, he was disappointed that his wife’s father didn’t provide much help afterward, as he suddenly collapsed during a social event. Although he was rushed to the hospital in ti, he lost the ability to work.
Since then, Bennett had to struggle alone within the bank. He wasn’t too driven by monetary pursuits; on one hand, his wife’s family was wealthy, and he had been working at the bank for many years. Whether the inco was legitimate or not, it was considerable.
He was well aware that focusing on money now would only bring pocket change. He couldn’t risk his future for money that wasn’t significant to him.
Once his position was promoted in the future, all aspects of his inco would increase. From a long-term perspective, self-discipline could help him go further.
He indulged in no other vices and didn’t gamble either.
Perhaps because his marriage stemd from a transaction, he maintained an oddly respectful attitude towards his wife at ho, even sowhat... submissive.
His wife often mocked him for the purpose and implentation of their marriage, which made it difficult for him to hold his head high at ho, especially after his wife’s father was paralyzed. His wife beca even more relentless.
This led Bennett to a peculiar hobby. He liked visiting strip clubs whenever he had enough personal ti, interacting intimately with the strippers.
Apart from that, he had no other bad habits, and even this hobby is legal.
Strip clubs didn’t provide sexual services according to Federation law. Only certain processes involving money exchange were considered solicitation and... but the dancers’ actions didn’t fall under Federation law’s control.
This was his only personal fetish, and it was legal.
He never ssed around with won in the office. Although he knew how dirty the banking system was—the lower the level, the dirtier—he didn’t participate, maintaining a clean reputation.
He didn’t wish for his future to be destroyed by small issues he created himself. He should have grand ideals and a future!
Missing his little unexpected delight earlier, he began to caution himself not to let desire control his mind and focused on work.
One docunt after another gradually engrossed him. He enjoyed this feeling; any docunt needed his signature to proceed. Nominally, he was Jogriman’s assistant, but everyone knew that once he got approval authority, Jogriman was already sidelined.
He was the supre ruler of this departnt; all he needed to do was patiently wait for Jogriman to finish his term at mid-year, at which point he would take over Jogriman’s position. Just the simple thought of it made him excited!
An entire day of work ended quickly; being busy made ti pass swiftly. He bid farewell to colleagues as he left the bank. Sitting in the car, he thought again of his secretary and her rounded hips.
A hint of wicked desire rose in his mind; he needed to relax.
He directly changed direction and drove to a nearby strip club with a good environnt. Due to work, his family hadn’t moved here yet, and they possibly didn’t want to. His wife had to care for her father and wasn’t willing to co to such a rural place slling of cow dung, though there were no cows or dung on the streets here.
This afforded Bennett much free ti to do what he wanted. He parked, pressed the brim of his rounded hat lower, and walked into the strip club.
Upon entering, he caught a unique scent, his face gaining so smiles.
He exchanged a box of loose change at the counter—in strip clubs, everyone needed loose change as a tool with great use.
He randomly chose a stage to sit down at and ordered so of his favorite drinks from the server.
Most strip clubs had a highly uniform decor. First, there were many stages inside, surrounded by bars. People could sit at the bar to drink and eat, but mostly threw loose change to make the dancers on stage perform more enthusiastically.
What made Bennett sowhat uncomfortable was the crowd today, many more people than before the major strike. Around the bar, every space was filled with people, regular citizens reeking of sour and booze, drunkenly demanding the girls on stage remove more.
The noisy environnt displeased Bennett; he was a classy person and didn’t want to sit among them.
Seeing handfuls of five-cent and ten-cent coins thrown on stage, the barely clothed girls danced more energetically, soon too hotly that they had to remove clothes to relieve their rising temperatures.
After watching for a while, Bennett took his box of money and stood up. He walked to the much quieter VIP area, showed his VIP card, and entered the lounge.
Here, the girls wore various clothes, so dressed as nuns, so in police uniforms, and so...
Here, as long as one had money, the girls could fulfill all of the guests’ desires.
Just as Bennett was about to choose a girl dressed as a nun, his attention was caught by a girl who had just co from backstage.
She was a young girl of about twenty, wearing a common school uniform. What prevented Bennett from looking away was her resemblance to his first love.
After a montary daze, he regained his composure, selected the girl, and went into an empty booth.
Soon, the girl in the school uniform, with a satchel slung over her shoulder, ca in. Her slightly immature face already bore so heart-wrenching maturity.
"Sir, before we begin, there are so settings..." After getting Bennett’s agreent, the girl started the ga, "Do you want to be a good girl or a bad girl?"
"Who am I to you?"
"How would you like to call you?"
Sitting on the sofa, Bennett suddenly felt a bit eager.
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