Valerie and the little voyeur at the anime convention.

⚠️ Content warning: This work is purely fictional and intended for adults over the age of 18. All characters depicted are of legal age. The story does not represent real events or promote illegal behavior.

The audiobook is at the end.👇🔈🎧📥

It was a beautiful day to go to an anime event. The warm breeze blew the banners on the stands, mixing the smell of hand rolls and soy sauce with that of the crowd. I, Valerie, felt right at home. My black crop top, long sleeves, buttoned up the front, open in a V-neck as far as good taste allowed. My light-colored jeans, the high-waisted kind that hug me where they should, tight at the waist, snug at the hips. A youthful look. Daring. Confident.

I walked, unhurried, from one booth to another. I noticed the stares, of course. The young guys, dressed up or not, followed me with their eyes. That... that boosted my ego. I felt a pleasant warmth in my lower abdomen. Knowing that I could still paralyze them with my curves, at forty-five, was frightening. I stopped in front of a stand displaying figurines, feigning interest in a statue of a character I didn't even know. And there, in the crooked reflection of the glass display case, I saw him.

A boy. Thin, wearing a dark anime sweatshirt. He had his phone in his hand, but he wasn't looking at the screen. He was holding it at just the right angle. And I noticed, in the glass, the movement of his arm following me as I walked away.

My butt. He was recording my butt.

How cheeky, I thought. And a slow smile began to form on my face. How cheeky and how... exciting.

I didn't turn around suddenly. No. I let him follow me a little longer. I headed for a less crowded area, near the portable toilets. I felt his presence a few feet away, the camera probably still on. I stopped, took out my own phone as if to check something, and at that moment, I turned around.

I caught him red-handed. The phone was at my waist, the screen clearly showing my butt in those light-colored jeans that today seemed to be painted on me.

His eyes, green and huge, opened wide. He turned pale. A choked sound, an “uh...,” escaped from his throat.

I approached him. Calmly. A predator's walk.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked, my voice low and honeyed. I stopped right in front of him. He was tall, but he shrank, seeming to want to disappear into his sweatshirt.

He swallowed. “I... no... it wasn't meant to...”

“For your personal archive, I know,” I cut in, smiling. I took another step. Our bodies were almost touching. I could see the panic on his face, the sweat on his temple. I raised a hand and pointed to his phone, still in his trembling hand. “You have a good eye, really. But, you know, recording without permission is pretty ugly. Don't you think?”

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll delete it, right away, I'll...”

“Ah, not so fast,” I said, and my smile widened. My gaze dropped to his phone, then back to his eyes. “That evidence... could be useful. Look at me.”

He reluctantly looked up. His pupils were dilated.

“There are security cameras here,” I lied, completely naturally. “And I know the organizers. Quite well. I could have them check the recordings, find your face... and my butt on your phone. It would be quite a scene, wouldn't it? The perverted guy kicked out of the expo.”

His breathing became short gasps. “Please...”

“‘Please’ won't do,” I said softly. I took another step, the index finger of my free hand resting lightly on his chest through the fabric of his sweatshirt. I felt him shudder. “I need something more convincing.”

“W-what?” he whispered.

“I need a servant,” I replied, as if asking for a glass of water. “For today. Someone to help me, to keep me company. Someone... obedient. If you agree, this video never happened. If not...” I left the threat floating in the hot air between us.

He blinked, bewildered. He looked around, as if searching for a way out. There wasn't one. He nodded, a sharp shake of his head. “Okay. Whatever.”

“Excellent,” I said, removing my finger. “First order: delete that video in front of me. Now.”

With hands that didn't quite obey him, he unlocked his phone, found the file, and deleted it. He did it slowly, as if saying goodbye to a treasure. I watched, arms crossed, which made the neckline of my crop top tighten a little more. I noticed that, even in his panic, his gaze drifted there for a split second.

“Good,” I nodded. “What's your name, servant?”

“Leo,” he said, almost without a voice.

“Valerie,” I introduced myself. “But you will call me ‘Lady Valerie’. Is that clear, Leo?”

“Yes... Lady Valerie.”

His shyness was... delicious. That vulnerability, that way of not knowing where to put his hands. It excited me. Pure truth.

“Well, Leo,” I said, relaxing my posture. “Now that the formalities are clear... I'm hot. And a little hungry. Do you like ice cream?”

He seemed taken aback by the turn. “Yes... yes, I like it.”

“Perfect,” I smiled, turning on my heels. “Treat me. It's your duty as a servant to pamper your Mistress. Come on, over there.”

I walked, and he trotted alongside me, keeping a respectful distance. I, on the other hand, slowed down so he could catch up.

“Don't walk like a beaten puppy.” I said, without looking at him. “Relax. After all, we're now... friends. Under peculiar circumstances.”

We ordered two cones. Chocolate for me, vanilla for him. While we waited, I leaned on the railing, turning my back to the crowd, and therefore to him. I could feel his gaze on me, on the bare waist exposed by my crop top, on the curve of my hips accentuated by my jeans. I let him look at me. Let him feast his eyes on my curves.

“What's your favorite anime, Leo?” I asked, taking a slow lick of my ice cream, capturing his attention again.

“Uh... ‘Attack on Titan,’” he said, hurriedly.

“Oops, already a classic,” I replied, looking at him over my shoulder. “I like things with romance better. Or seinen. Things with more... nuance. More depth.” I took another lick, this time letting a little ice cream slide down the edge of the cone. I wiped it off with my thumb, cynically slow. “Life isn't just action and titans, you know? Sometimes it's more about... subtleties.”

He nodded, eating his ice cream as if he were in a hurry. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Don't assume,” I said softly. “Learn. Look around you,” I gestured broadly. “People of all ages, enjoying the same thing. Passion has no expiration date, Leo. I've been watching anime since before you were born, probably.”

“Really?” he asked, and for the first time there was a hint of curiosity in his voice, above the fear.

“Seriously,” I confirmed, turning to face him. “Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball... when they aired on broadcast TV. That doesn't make me old, huh?” I said with a low laugh. “Just... experienced.”

He smiled shyly. “No, you don't seem old.”

“‘You seem,’” I repeated playfully. “And what do you seem, Leo?”

He choked on his ice cream. “You seem... youthful. Confident.”

I moved a little closer. The vanilla scent of his breath mingled with the chocolate of mine. “Youthful and confident,” I murmured. “I like how that sounds. Now, tell me, what were you thinking when you were filming me?”

The smile faded. “I shouldn't have done it, I know...”

“That's not what I'm asking,” I cut in, softly but firmly. “I'm asking what you were thinking. At the time. Admitting your curiosity won't make you any more guilty. You already are.”

He looked at the floor, then at his shoes. His ear was turning red. “I was thinking... that you had an amazing body. That... that those jeans...”

“Really?” I encouraged him, my voice a whisper. “What about the jeans?”

“They fit her perfectly,” he blurted out, as if it took physical effort to say it. “You looked... really good.”

A deep, satisfying warmth spread through my belly. “Thank you,” I said, and the gratitude sounded genuine. “That's nice to hear. Even if the methods were... questionable.” I took the last bite of my ice cream. He did the same, clearly relieved that the interrogation was over.

“Well, Servant Leo,” I said, discarding the paper. The Lady has a need. A physiological one. Come with me."

I walked toward the row of portable toilets, located in a semi-hidden corner behind a large video game stand. The loud music from the main stage helped cover the noise in the area. I stopped in front of the door to one of the stalls.

“Wait here,” I ordered. “Don't move. And... keep an eye out. Don't let anyone else try to do the same thing you're doing.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but just nodded. He leaned against the metal wall, crossing his arms, looking away forcefully.

I went inside. The space was narrow, clean. I looked at myself in the small, fogged-up mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright. The excitement, the tension, the control... it was an intoxicating combination. I adjusted my crop top, running my hands over my abdomen. Then I turned and looked at the door. Through the thin slit in the ventilation above, I could see a fragment of his sweatshirt. He was waiting. Obeying.

A slow, twisted idea began to form in my mind.

I opened the door just a crack. His figure tensed instantly.

“Leo,” I called, in a tone that was not a whisper, but not a full voice either. “I need something else.”

He approached cautiously. “What's wrong?”

“The thing is, these buttons on the front,” I said, pointing to my crop top, “I can't do them up. With my hands like this... I can't. Come here.”

I pulled him by the arm, harder than I expected, and pulled him into the portable bathroom with me. The door closed behind him with a dull click. The space suddenly felt intimate. Cramped. We could hear our breathing, the faint hum of the light.

He was petrified, pressed against the door, his eyes scanning the tiny cubicle as if looking for a place where he couldn't see me.

“Relax,” I said, and my voice sounded different here, deeper, closer. “I just need you to help me with this. See?”

I showed him the buttons on the front of the crop top. My fingers brushed the first one. “They're small. My nails...” I didn't finish the sentence. I just looked at him.

He looked at the buttons, then at my face, then back at the buttons. His throat moved. He reached out a trembling hand, and his cold fingers brushed my skin as he searched for the first button.

The air inside the cabin thickened. The sound of metal expanding in the heat was the only thing breaking the silence, apart from our breathing. He undid the first button. Then the second. With each little click, the V-shaped opening of the neckline widened, revealing more skin, more of the curve of my breasts contained by the black lace bra I wore underneath.

His breathing became more audible. A slight, trapped, restless gasp.

Leo froze. His eyes fixed on the opening of my crop top where the black fabric gave way, revealing the lace of my bra and the fleshy swell of my breasts. His mouth, half open. His breathing, a short, irregular hiss that filled the heavy air of the bathroom. I could feel his gaze like a physical, warm weight on my skin.

A restlessness, alive and electric, began to rise inside me. It wasn't nervousness, no. It was the anticipatory tingle of a game that only I knew the rules to. Let him look, I thought. Let him see what he never thought he would touch.

I moved slowly, feigning discomfort. I adjusted my bra over the fabric of my crop top, a false, clumsy gesture. My fingers got tangled in the lace, pulling on a strap that wasn't bothering me at all.

“Do you like what you see there, Leo?” I asked, my voice sounding rough, a little mocking. Don't play dumb. I can see it on your face. And in... other places."

He blinked, shaken. “I... wasn't...”

“No,” I cut him off, softly. “Don't apologize. Your nervousness, your desperation, is cute. But don't apologize.”

Instead of asking him to look away, I turned around. In the narrow space of the bathroom, it was a calculated move. My back was facing him, and then, with calculated slowness, I leaned back slightly. The dense, rounded volume of my buttocks, trapped by my light-colored high-waisted jeans, made firm contact against his crotch.

The result was instantaneous. A hard, thick bulge pressed against the curve of my butt through our clothes. I felt it all. The shape, the tension. Leo let out a muffled sound, a moan caught in his throat. His body stiffened, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't. He was trapped between my body and the metal door.

Just the way I like it.

I started the game. A slight movement of my hips, just a sway. Rubbing my butt against the erection bulging in his pants. A slow, sideways rub that made the fabric of his jeans stretch even tighter.

“Ma'am...” he whispered, his voice broken, a plea with no destination.

“Yes, servant?” I replied, without turning around. I continued the movement, this time pressing back a little more firmly. I crushed his hard cock against me, using the full weight of my hips. I felt it give way a little, molding itself against the cleft between my buttocks, even with the layers of fabric in between. You're liking this, aren't you? Tight little thing. Hidden away."

He didn't answer. Just a wet pant near my ear. His hot breath reached my neck. His hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides, closed into weak fists.

I changed the angle. I leaned forward slightly, resting my hands on the wall in front of me. This position arched my back and pushed my buttocks even further back toward him. Then, with a circular, suggestive movement, I rotated my hips. I rubbed the center of his erection with the fleshiest, softest part of my butt. Again and again. A slow, crushing massage through his clothes.

“Leo,” I said, in a conversational tone, as if we were discussing the weather. “Tell me. What do you like most about me? Of everything you've seen today.”

He hesitated. He swallowed. “Your... your buttocks, Mrs. Valerie.”

A deep, satisfied warmth spread through my belly. Of course. “Really?” I pressed, rotating again. “And what do you like about them? Describe it. In your own words.”

“They're... big,” he said. “Round. They look... impressive in those jeans.”

“Impressive,” I repeated, savoring the word. “That's a good adjective. And tell me, shy boy. What do you want to do with these impressive buttocks?”

The silence was thick with something embarrassing and exciting at the same time. I felt his cock throbbing against me, a quick, hard pulse.

“Everything,” he finally managed to say in a whisper. “Touch them... squeeze them...”

“And?” I insisted, stopping the movement, maintaining the static pressure. I had him pinned, literally. “Don't hold back. We crossed that line a while ago. What else?”

He took a deep breath, as if diving underwater. “I'd like to... put my face between them. And...”

“And?”

“And put... my dick there,” he blurted out, and the confession seemed to empty him of air. “In between. In her... ass.”

Aha. There it was. The rawness, dragged out of his shyness. I loved it.

I turned around slowly, in the tiny space. Now we were face to face, our bodies pressed together. My bare stomach brushed against his sweatshirt. My breasts, half exposed by my unbuttoned crop top, were inches from his chest. His hard cock, clearly visible, stood between our lower abdomens.

I looked him straight in the eyes, green and filled with excited panic. My smile was small, intimate, knowing.

“Do you want to stick your cock in my ass, Leo?” I asked, clearly, without embellishment. “In this big lady ass?”

He nodded, a convulsive shake of his head. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mistress Valerie.”

“Very good,” I said, reaching out to caress his cheek. It was burning. “That's a very specific desire. And very... dirty. I like it.” I withdrew my hand. My tone changed, becoming practical, and I said suddenly, “But not like this and not here.”

His expression filled with confusion and instant, almost painful disappointment.

“It's uncomfortable here, it's dirty, and we don't have any lube,” I explained, like a teacher. “To do that right, so that I enjoy it and you don't hurt me... we need a bottle of lube. And a more comfortable place. Private.”

He kept looking at me, processing. Hope lit up in his eyes again.

“So... are we going to...?”

“Are we going to buy lubricant and find a better place for you to give me what you want so badly?” I finished the question for him. "Yes, Leo. That's exactly what we're going to do. Is that okay with you?"

“Yes,” he said quickly, fervently. “Everything. Yes.”

“Perfect,” I nodded. “Then let's get ready. I... I'm already presentable,” I said, gesturing vaguely toward my unbuttoned crop top. I didn't button it up. I left it open, showing my bra. Let him die a little more of desire. I adjusted my jeans, a slap on each buttock that made a fleshy sound and caused him to blink rapidly. “You... try to hide that,” I said, pointing with my eyes to his crotch. “We don't want any scandals before it's time.”

We got ready in silence. With confident movements, I buttoned up my crop top, adjusting each button with delicate precision, hiding my bra but without losing an ounce of the sensuality that emanated from my figure. He clumsily tried to tuck his erection into his pants without much success, his trembling hands struggling to maintain composure. Finally, I opened the door, letting the cool outside air mix with the palpable tension that remained in that small space.

The daylight was a shock. The sounds of the expo—the music, the laughter, the announcements—came back all at once. I went out first, stretching like a cat, getting used to the idea of normality. Leo came out behind me, hunched over, his face red.

Right in front of the door, a small line had formed. And at the front, a girl dressed in an impeccable Anya Forger cosplay from Spy x Family. She looked at me with huge eyes, then looked at Leo coming out behind me from the single-person bathroom. Her eyes widened even more as she processed the image: a voluptuous adult woman coming out of a portable bathroom with a tall, visibly nervous young man.

The girl froze, her mouth half open.

I didn't flinch. I held her gaze and smiled at her. A broad, knowing smile. Then I put my index finger to my lips in the universal “shhh” gesture, but I did it theatrically, exaggeratedly, as if we were accomplices in a prank. I covered my mouth with my hand, feigning hilarious guilt, and my eyes sparkled with pure amusement.

Anya, bewildered, smiled hesitantly.

Without wasting a second, I grabbed Leo's hand. His fingers were cold and clammy. I intertwined them with mine, firmly.

“Let's go,” I said, quietly but clearly. “The convenience store is on the other side of the park. They sell everything there.”

And I pulled him away from the bathroom line, away from the girl with her look of amazement, back into the colorful and noisy stream of the convention. I walked quickly, determined, pulling him along. His hand in mine was a pact. A promise. A preview of everything that was to come.

Valerieexpo A.mp3

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Valerieexpo B.mp3

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