The Servant

This had been her favourite fantasy for years, and tonight it would finally become a reality. They had discussed the details last night and she had consented. Some of what was to happen, would remain a secret to her for now. She liked the unexpected, the passionate and the deviant. So instead of being concerned, she was quite enticed by the idea of not knowing what he had planned for her.

She loved serving him, being his submissive, pleasing him. He often asked her to do chores and cook for them. But tonight, she would not only serve him, she would serve him and his friends. The idea caused a pleasurable tingle all over her body and mind. She was standing in the hallway outside the dining room, her body exposed and naked, only her feet in black high heels. The silver collar that represented his power over her, and her submission to him, was tightly closed around her neck. She was holding a silver platter in her hands, with appetizers that she had prepared for the evening.

Her senses alert, she was waiting. She heard chatter and laughter coming from behind the door. The smell of vape clouds and heavy perfumes. Ding, ding, ding, ding. There it was, he was ringing the tiny bell he had bought for the occasion. She walked towards the door, opened it and stepped into the room. Her Sir and five of his friends were standing in the dining room, deep in conversation. Four men and two women. They all gave her a quick glance when she entered the room, but returned to their chatter. She walked up to the group and submissively held out the platter with the food. Several hands grabbed the small pieces of quiche. Once the food was devoured, people walked toward the dining table. She pulled out the chair for each of them, allowing them to sit comfortably.

She then poured white wine into the glasses standing in front of them. Her naked breasts accidentally brushed a shoulder here and there, her naked bottom almost next to someone’s face. They were all watching her, but also didn’t take much notice. She was now standing in the corner of the room, observing them drinking and talking. She didn’t move, she was nothing more than their tool for pleasure tonight.

The tiny bell rang again and she went into the kitchen to get the bowls of gazpacho she had prepared earlier. She carefully placed them on a cart and rolled them into the dining room. One by one, everyone got served their food. Placing the bowl in front of her Sir, the soup swayed from side to side and tiny drops of the red deliciousness were running down the white porcelain exterior. She froze. Maybe he didn’t notice. Nothing had spilled.

Back in her corner, she was watching them. She enjoyed not being paid attention to, her nudity didn’t entice them enough to see beyond her role for the evening: their servant. The humiliation and degradation made her nipples harden and a suspicious dampness spread between her legs. She was his toy, his servant. His. She was in bliss.

Every now and then, someone raised their hand and she walked over to refill their glass of wine. She felt the watchful eyes of her Sir, knowing that she had to perform and please him. Ding ding ding. Empty bowls of soup were replaced by plates with paella, fresh herbs sprinkled on top. She was proud of her cooking skills and pleased to see everyone digging in and seeming to enjoy her culinary creations. Seeing the pleasure she was giving them, while her body didn’t get their attention, aroused her even more. “I’m a good girl. Sir is going to reward me later.”. She smiled to herself.

Ding ding ding. Plates were switched to bowls of fruit and wine to whiskey. Vape clouds were now hovering above everyone’s heads, and the laughter and chatter got louder. Ding ding ding. She was confused. There were no more meals to be served. She looked at her Sir. He looked at her and waved her over to him. “Bend over the table”, he whispered into her ear. She froze. She knew he was going to punish her. For what? In front of everyone?

The group turned silent when her Sir raised a whip. She bent over, still wondering what she was being punished for. “You were almost perfect tonight, girl. But I saw the drops of soup on the bowl. You want me to push you towards perfection, don’t you, girl?” – “Yes, Sir.” – “Then you will take the five lashes gracefully?” – “Yes, Sir.”. She swallowed.

She tensed up when she heard the whip flying through the air and the sting on her naked bottom made her squeal. She opened her eyes and saw everyone watching her. She was ashamed but also strangely aroused by finally being noticed. Another lash, and another. Tears were running down her face now. The sting was almost unbearable. Another lash, and another. She was breathing heavily now but started to relax as she knew that her punishment was over.

“Now, you have been a good girl tonight, and I really appreciate you serving us. Good girl!”. She smiled. Her Sir’s words seemed to soothe the pain she was still experiencing from the lashes. “Hear, Hear!”, everyone else shouted. She blushed.

“Turn around and lay on your back. Time for your reward.”

She did as she was told and climbed up the table. The guests were now standing. Curious hands started exploring her naked breasts and belly. Pinching, pulling, teasing. Two fingers were circling her clit, discovering her swollen button, then rubbing it hard. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the five pairs of hand pleasuring her, playing with her. She felt her Sir’s hands on her knees, spreading her legs apart. Someone massaged her right breast, someone else pulled her left nipple. She moaned. He pushed inside her wetness and roughly started pounding her. She opened her eyes and saw everyone watching her, her pleasure, her reactions.

“Look at what a slut you are, girl. Enjoying how others watch you getting fucked. Dirty naughty slut!”, her Sir said. She grinned. Her cheeks flushed of embarrassment and arousal, she let go. She moaned and was breathing heavily. The pounding intensified and she felt her naked back being pushed back and forth on the dining table. The rubbing of her clit got faster and more intense. She started arching her back, welcoming the rough treatment and the hard cock pushing in and out of her. “I will count you to come!”, her Sir said when he realized how close to relief she was.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five. Come girl, come for me!”

She started twitching and spasming uncontrollably, moaning and gasping for air. She felt him releasing his hot seed inside of her, twitching in unison with her body. All eyes on her, she sat up and climbed down the table. Her Sir had pulled up his pants again. “Now go back to your corner. You have been a good girl.”. He kissed her on the forehead.

She was standing in the corner again, holding the bottle of whiskey. She smiled and blushed when thinking back to what had happened just minutes ago. His warm juices were running down her naked thighs. She knew she had been a good girl and she very much enjoyed the reward her Sir had given her.