by Sky Corgan
“Are the same people from the munch going to be there?” I inquired
“Yes, and probably a few people you haven't met yet. I figured it was a good time to step your exposure to the lifestyle up a notch.”
“And you want me to serve and entertain?” If he wanted to step it up a notch, I would have rather done it at someone else's house. By the way that Damien made it sound, I would be the center of attention.
“Yes.”
“What do you mean by serve and entertain?”
“I'll give you a run-through tomorrow. I want you here promptly at four o'clock, bathed and shaved. The guests won't arrive until six, but there is a lot of setup to attend to, and I'd really like to get you in the right mindset before everything gets underway. I want you at the top of your game. This party is as much about showing you off as it is about socializing.”
His words sent a proud blush to my cheeks. If Damien was asking this of me, then it meant he thought I was ready for it. That filled me with confidence. Maybe I was doing a better job as a submissive than I had thought.
“Are you ready to go over your vocabulary words?” he asked.
I nodded, taking the Teach position on the bed, even though it was completely unnecessary.
“Your first term is golden showers.”
Something you'll never do to me. A strict hard limit. “A golden shower is when urine is used for pleasure. The term specifically describes being peed on or peeing on someone else for humiliation or pleasure.”
“Very good. Your next term is handkerchief codes.”
“Handkerchief codes are used at play parties and other BDSM events where you might not know everyone around. Handkerchiefs of various colors are worn to silently signify what you're into.”
“You're thinking of handkerchief codes as they apply to gay leather clubs.” Damien smirked. “Handkerchief codes are far less extravagant at BDSM events. You can wear a handkerchief of any color of your choosing. Wearing the handkerchief on the left side of your body indicates you're a top. Wearing it on the right side of the body means you're a bottom.”
“Punishment?” I flinched away from the word.
“Yes, punishment, but not until we're done. Your last word is harem.”
“A harem is when one Dom has multiple submissives.”
“Multiple submissives serving one or more Doms,” he corrected me.
Damn, a half-right. Why was I so bad about getting those?
Damien continued with a sigh, “You've earned fifteen minutes of punishment for not studying. I would add onto it for your continued insistence not to call me Sir, but we both know how effective that would be. I'm really not sure what I can do to make you say it all the time, at this point.”
“You could just be satisfied that I say it some of the time, Sir,” I suggested, though I knew it probably sounded smart.
Thankfully, Damien just grinned at me. “I suppose. It's better than nothing.
“For tonight's punishment, I want you to stand on one leg for fifteen minutes. Any time you lose your balance and have to set a foot down, the count starts over.”
I groaned internally but nodded before standing to begin my punishment. By the grace of God, my balance was superb, and I made it the entire fifteen minutes without falling over, though the foot I had been standing on felt half-crippled by the time I was able to take my weight off of it.
With my punishment complete, I thanked Damien, recited why I had been punished, turned in my journal and definitions from the previous week, received my new set of vocabulary words, and headed home. The entire drive was consumed with so many thoughts, mostly about the party. What exactly would he expect me to do? Would the blonde woman be there? I supposed I'd have to wait until the following day for the answers to those questions.
SERVING
It was hard to keep my nervousness at bay with Damien's words echoing in my mind, “This party is as much about showing you off as it is about socializing.” Every move I made would be a reflection of his training skills as a Dominant. I knew it was important for me to be perfect.
Not only did I want to do well for Damien's sake, but I wanted to show the blonde woman that Damien and I were in sync. He belonged to me now. Our relationship was seamless, and he had no need for her in his life. I wasn't sure how she had been as a submissive, but I wanted to be better, or at least fake that I was.
When I wasn't busy cleaning the house or doing homework, I would practice my submissive positions, go over my vocabulary words, and try to anticipate the things that would be expected of me at the party. The rules of social interaction played over in my head like a broken record. Damien is the most important person in the room. Serve Damien first. Don't speak without permission. Treat everyone with respect. Ask before entering the room. Always call Damien Sir. Use proper titles for the other Doms and Dommes.
For all of my practicing though, by the time I got to Damien's doorstep that afternoon, I was no less nervous. Part of me thought I wasn't ready for this, but it was too late to turn back now. This afternoon would be a true test of everything I had learned about being a submissive. I was certain that if I screwed it up, my punishment would be severe.
Damien opened the door looking no different than normal. As silly as it was, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see him in leather. He had changed my perspective about the BDSM lifestyle on a lot of fronts. What I had imagined in my mind was far from the reality of things.
“Are you nervous?” he asked as he led me into the classroom.
“A bit, Sir,” I admitted, taking a seat on the bed.
“Don't be. I'm sure you'll do fine.”
“You really think so?”
“I wouldn't have planned this if I didn't think so.”
“What if I screw up though?” I cringed at the thought.
“You won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we're going to do a lot of practicing. By the time everyone gets here, your actions and reactions should come natural.”
His words did help to ease my nerves a little.
“So, what do we do first?” I asked.
“First, I want you to take off all of your clothing except for your underwear and your . . .” He looked down at my black ballerina flats. “Those won't do. Let me see your underwear.”
I blushed at his request, though I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like Damien hadn't seen me in my panties dozens of times already. Obediently, I pulled down my skirt, revealing the black lace panties beneath. They were a mix of practical and sexy, with a solid front but a see-through backside accented with a cute little bow.
Damien nodded approvingly. “Finish getting undressed. Everything but your underwear. I'll be right back.”
He exited the room, leaving me wondering if we were going to have a kink session before the guests arrived. While the idea made me all hot and bothered, I really felt like I needed all the time to practice I could get. Regardless, the choice wasn't mine. It was Damien's rules, and we'd do whatever he wanted.
While I waited for him to return, I finished undressing and folded my clothes to place them on the chest of drawers. If I'd improved on anything since being Damien's submissive in training, it was definitely learning how to fold dress clothes. They didn't always come out perfectly, but he rarely complained or punished me for it anymore.
After several moments, Damien returned with a shoebox. He opened it up, revealing a pair of shiny black six-inch stilettos. I grunted at them, realizing I'd probably be wearing them for the entire party. Hopefully, I'd get a foot massage as a reward if I did well for the afternoon. It looked like I would be needing one.
“Are they the right size?” I asked, silently praying they weren't.
“You're a nine and a half, right?”
Damn. “Yes.”
“Put them on.”
I did as I was told, setting the box aside as I slipped into the shoes. They were, not surprisingly, uncomfortable. New shoes usually were.
�
��How long is this party going to be, Sir?”
“However long people feel like staying,” Damien replied, assessing my attire one final time before turning to the chest of drawers to open it.
I didn't like that answer. It was so inconclusive. However long could be anything from one hour to all night.
Chains rattled in the drawer as Damien rummaged through it. When he turned back to me, he had several sets of restraints in his hands as well as a thick leather collar.
“Take your training collar off,” he told me. “You're going to be wearing this tonight.”
Damien handed me the new collar and then knelt to place cuffs on my ankles. I watched him with apprehension, now completely confused about what was going on.
“Is this our kink session, Sir?” I asked.
“No. This is what you'll be required to wear to serve our guests.”
My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. He couldn't possibly be serious. There was maybe only half a foot of chain between the two ankle cuffs. Taking normal steps would be impossible. I'd have to waddle around like a penguin. Not to mention I was naked. Did he really expect me to show my body to an entire room of people I didn't know?
“Aren't you worried I'll trip and embarrass you, Sir?”
“No,” he replied plainly.
The new collar was thick leather, wider and heavier than my collar of consideration but with a soft lambskin lining to protect my neck from irritation. Damien attached a lightweight chain to the O ring. It hung loosely between my breasts, splitting off just below my navel to turn into wrist restraints, which Damien fastened in place. I had about a foot of space between them. With both sets of fetters on, serving anyone was going to be a real chore.
When Damien was done securing my bonds, he took a step back to admire his handiwork. “How does that feel?”
“Restrictive,” I dragged out the word, doing a poor job at hiding my discontent.
“No one said this was going to be easy.” Damien smirked at me.
“It never is with you, Sir.”
“Oh, come now, I make some things easy.” He bent forward, roughly groping one of my breasts and flicking his tongue across the nipple. My breath hitched as all the pleasure sensors in my body turned on at once. Then he sucked it into his mouth, moaning softly against my skin as his tongue swirled and danced until the nub was peaked from stimulation. I felt completely subdued, wanting to tangle my fingers in his hair but knowing I had to keep my carnal desires at bay.
“You're evil,” I grumbled when he finally came up for air.
Damien stepped dangerously close to me, sliding a hand between my legs. His finger skillfully slipped between my pussy lips, and I felt my legs involuntarily trying to spread for it, though it was pointless with the restraints.
“And you're wet,” he whispered into my ear. “That was easy.”
Hate you. So much. Right now.
Playfully, I nipped at his collarbone, hoping he'd give in and take me. He wouldn't even have to undo my restraints. Damien was such a sexual Houdini that he could probably fuck me fifty different ways around them. Oh how I wanted him to try.
But instead, he stepped away, retreating to his chair and leaving me sexually frustrated. I penguin-walked forward, sitting myself on his lap and grabbing at the front of his jeans. It must have looked rather humorous because he was grinning the entire time he was slapping my hands away.
“You're not behaving,” he warned.
“You started it,” I complained, knowing I wouldn't win. Stubborn stubborn man, he was.
As a consolation prize, Damien leaned forward to give me a peck on the lips. It wasn't near what I wanted, but I knew I would have to settle. There was a lot yet to be done before the guests arrived, and for as horny as I was, I did need to get some practice in.
“If not fucking, then what do we do now?” I asked.
“Now we go over what's expected of you,” Damien replied, wrapping his arms loosely around my waist.
“What's expected of me?”
“When the guests begin to arrive, I want you to answer the door. You will greet all Doms as Sir and all Dommes as Miss. If someone requests that you call them by a different title, honor their request. You will take all coats and place them in the coat closet, then you will lead the guests into the living room and offer refreshments. There is tea, soda, juice, and water in the kitchen. Pretend you're a waitress. Everyone's glass should be filled before they even have to ask for a refill.
“When you're not serving, you will be parked in a corner of the room. I'll show you where when we get into the living room. While you're parked, you're not to make a sound. I want you to be as still as a statue. Keep your eyes to the floor and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone.
“You will not need to request permission to leave or enter the living room if you are going to refill someone's glass. However, you will have to request permission to leave and enter the living room for any other reason. That includes using the restroom.
“When all the guests have arrived, we will retreat to the dining room for dinner. At that time, you will serve me first, then the rest of the table in a clockwise rotation. When the first course has been served, you will park yourself in the corner until someone needs a drink refill. I've hired a chef to prepare a three-course meal for the evening. When the guests are finished with the first course, you will pick up all the plates and take them to the kitchen, then serve the next course.
“While you are under my protection, you should know the guests are allowed to touch you. You may be spanked or have your breasts groped, but no one is allowed to touch your cunt.”
Even though the idea of being spanked sent happy shivers to my groin, the thought of being touched by strangers made me uncomfortable. Sharing my body wasn't something I had signed up for. In fact, I distinctly remembered it being on my list of hard limits.
“I thought we agreed I wouldn't be shared,” I said meekly.
Damien gave me a quizzical look. “You're not being shared.”
“You just said the guests are allowed to touch me.”
“Touching you isn't the same as sharing you,” he paused. “Does the idea make you uncomfortable?”
“A little.”
“If anything, I thought you'd be excited about it. You enjoy being spanked, if I recall, and there are quite a few attendees who enjoy spanking as well. They will respect your safety words, so if at any time you feel too uncomfortable, you can use them, and they'll back off or release you.”
That did make me feel a little better. It wasn't like he was just going to throw me to the wolves. Maybe it would be alright after all. I was long overdue for a good spanking, and the thought of being stimulated while I served wasn't exactly horrible.
“Alright,” I agreed.
“Once everyone has finished with dessert, you'll refill their glasses before we return to the living room. You'll be given fifteen minutes to clear the table, after which you'll be expected to join us. You will check everyone's beverages a final time, and then you will perform for our entertainment.”
“Perform?” The word caught me off guard. Damien had mentioned I would be required to entertain his guests, but he had never mentioned how I would go about doing it. I was almost afraid to ask.
“It's basically a demonstration of obedience,” he told me.
I could only imagine that meant I'd be expected to demonstrate my knowledge of the position commands. Hopefully, Damien would be pleased in my performance, since I had spent a large portion of the day practicing them, so I wouldn't screw up.
Damien continued, “When it's time for our guests to leave, you will promptly retrieve their belongings from the coat closet and thank them for coming as you walk them to the door. That's pretty much it.”
“It doesn't sound too difficult. The hardest part is going to be walking and moving in all of this.” I held up my wrist restraints with a scowl.
“No.” He shook his head. “I think th
e hardest part for you is going to be remembering to call me Sir. Please remember to do it in front of them. It means a lot to me, and as a reward, I'll never punish you for forgetting to say it in private again, though I might still verbally chastise you from time to time.”
“I thought we had already agreed you weren't going to punish me for forgetting to say it.”
“I never promised that. I've just been lenient lately because I feel like you spend more time being punished than the time we spend together, and though it may not have seemed like it since your training began, I do rather enjoy spending time with you.”
My heart flooded with warmth at his words. These rare moments when Damien expressed his enjoyment of my company were precious to me. It made me want to try even harder to please him.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied with a happy sigh, “I promise not to let you down.”
“That's my girl.” He kissed me tenderly on the lips before giving my ass a gentle slap. “Now, up with you. We should probably do a bit of role-play before the guests arrive so you'll be ready.”
“Yes, Sir.” I nodded enthusiastically, then carefully lifted myself off his lap.
The next hour and a half was spent role-playing. First, Damien played the part of a guest. I greeted him, took his coat, led him inside, served him real tea in the living room and an imaginary plate of food in the dining room. He showed me where to park myself in both rooms, the position that he wanted me to stand in, and made me practice the serving rotation in the dining room several times. With the ankle cuffs allowing me only limited mobility, it made me feel like I was moving at a snail's pace.
My performance was far from flawless, but instead of punishing me for my mistakes, Damien simply corrected me and gave me guidance. He seemed especially patient tonight, perhaps knowing that pressuring me would only make me more nervous and likely to screw up.
By the time the first guests arrived, I felt pretty confident in my abilities and was well into submissive mode. Oddly, I was more worried about being seen topless than I was about making a mistake.
I opened the door with a smile. The first guests to arrive were an older Dom and his female submissive. They were both dressed casually, and it made me wonder if BDSM people actually wore fetish gear at all. Playing my role, I took their coats, placed them in the coat closet, and led them into the living room where Damien took over the greetings, and I immediately went to retrieve their requested beverages.