All Black Waitress Outfit Novels & Stories

he motioned towards the waitress, who was too busy to notice him staring at her. Anya squinted her eyes at the waitress and tried to remember although, he couldn't imagine how she could forget that firecracker of a woman. The woman possessed a rather exotic look. She had long, wavy hair that was as black as midnight. Her skin was caramel-colored that looked bronzed under the sunlight. She had brown eyes that were big and expressive. And best of all, she was tall and voluptuous. What was she doing working at a café when she could be out there modeling for Victoria's Secret or something.

“Thank my Lord. Just tell me when you need me. I'm better now, so for any extra shift I'm available. He looks at me with narrowed eyes, but doesn't say anything, just waves his hand and turns his back on me. I begin to walk to the employee area down a hallway that leads to a dressing room. I go into the bathroom and change quickly. I put on the uniform that I start to hate so much. There were days when we wore dresses well above the knees revealing more than what I am really interested in showing. Today is one of those days. The changing table is one”man, therefore, behind me must be the other waitress, Charlene. In case I was on time, otherwise I have plenty of time to put my eye pencil and

The room is perfect for being the cheapest room. I wonder what the most expensive room would look like. Okay, no time to wonder. I just have a few minutes to get ready. The event is about to start. I stripped off my clothes and walked towards the bathroom. I did my business and walked back to the room. I applied my lotion and body spray before wearing my underwear and then uniform. My uniform is just the typical waitress attire. Black and white. White shirt and black trousers and then a black apron around my waist. I packed my hair into a neat bun, fixed some tiny earrings and then lip gloss.

It’ll give her more reasons to tease me. “Hey, Mr. Sebastian!” Finally, a waitress in a very short black ruffled pinafore comes over to serve us. She leans down, showing off the tip of her cleavage through the top of her low-necked uniform. She runs her manicured finger over his shoulder, but he immediately catches her wrist. “Not tonight,” he says tersely. The waitress moves away, pouting in disappointment. “I’m serving you this evening. What would you like to get?”

There are only seven servers chosen in total for tonight's shift, and I have been assigned to work alongside a guy named Nikolai behind the massive bar, surrounded by bottle displays that just one of them costs more than my entire college tuition. The uniforms provided for us are revealing, yet elegant. The women are dressed in clinging black silk corsets and high-slitted skirts, while the men wear form-fitting trousers made of a material so impossibly soft and luxurious it feels like liquid against my skin. The matching semi transparent black shirts, made of silk, drapes loosely over the chest, far higher quality than anything I have ever owned in my life, making me wonder how on earth this

I have an interview for a proper career with healthcare and bonuses. Okay, Zoe, breathe, don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s an interview. You don’t have the job yet. I tossed Isaac’s laptop into my bag. I need to shower, brush my hair and find an interview outfit. Shit, I’m a waitress, my interview outfit consists of faded black jeans and a black t-shirt with a hole in the armpit. My feet hit the sidewalk running. There’s a charity shop on the route home. It never has much in my size but with a grand total of six dollars to my name, it’s my only option.

My slave had to wash the previous one and store it back in the box it came in. Before we retired, I picked out two outfits for Sunday. One was kind of a short, mid-thigh, black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. Without a bra, it would be very sexy. I'd be happy to take her out to dinner in it. The second one was a white leather mini-skirt with a semi-sheer white blouse. Her breasts wouldn't be as exposed as if she were topless, but her nipples and areolae would be visible through the translucent fabric. "Good night, my beautiful slave." "Good night, my wonderful Master."

“Alright. Positions are set. Go get your uniforms.” — The bus arrived at the hotel. After changing, we returned to the lobby and looked like completely different people. Black‑and‑white waiter uniforms: white shirt, black vest, black bow tie, black trousers, polished shoes. The women also had to tie their hair up. Yvonne and I both had decent figures. On us, the old‑fashioned uniform outlined curves. With the mask covering our faces, it added a mysterious vibe. Even dressed as ordinary servers, we couldn’t hide the aura.

Apart from the card game at each table and cigar, they were all wearing the same thing. “All the men are wearing black.” I mutter, sounding annoyed. “Didn’t you get a seat number?” I shot him a look, slipping into the next empty booth I saw. I couldn’t keep walking around the place aimlessly. Though William didn’t seem to mind doing just that, he followed me and sat on my opposite side. A waitress—I’ll just call her that—appears by the side of the booth. She has no top on and she sends me a sultry smile.

After having some moments of silent tears on her side, the waitress heard some footsteps drawing towards the kitchen and she quickly rose to her feet, pretending to be busy with arranging the glass cups on the cabinet in the kitchen on the tray. The person approaching peeked into the kitchen stealthily, trying to make sure no one took notice of her because she had now changed into a similar uniform to the waitresses in the mansion. A long-sleeved white shirt and a high-waist black skirt with long white socks then black flat shoes.