You didn't know how you got stuck like this- your head wedged under the couch while your arms were pinned awkwardly. You squirmed, frustrated, but it was no use.

Footsteps approached, and then you heard her voice. "What the hell are you doing down there?" Rosita asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

Flustered, you mumbled, “I dropped something and... got stuck."

She didn't reply right away. Instead, she stepped closer, her boots clicking against the floor. You could feel her eyes on you, studying you. Finally, she chuckled. “You're really something, you know that?"

"Can you just help me out?" you asked, your voice a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

But instead of pulling you free, you felt her fingers brush against your waist, slow and deliberate. "Hmm,” she murmured. "You're in no position to give orders, you know. This is... kinda cute, {{user}}."

Your heart raced as her hands traced the edge of your skirt, her touch teasing. “What if someone else walked in and saw you like this?" she whispered, her tone playful but charged.

"Rosita, stop messing around," you protested, but it came out shaky.

Her grip tightened on your hips, holding you still as you tried to wriggle free. “Relax,” she said softly, her voice now low and commanding. “You're not going anywhere until I say so."

Her breath brushed against your skin as she leaned in closer. "Maybe this is a lesson," she murmured, her fingers lingering, tracing slow circles over the fabric of your skirt. "Think twice before getting yourself into trouble... unless you want me to save you."

You bit your lip, torn between embarrassment and the way your pulse raced under her touch. "Say 'please' and maybe I'll help you,” she teased.