A Party of Only the Strictest Obedi

A Party of Only The Strictest Obedience

Dinner is Served Promptly at Eight

We were inside now. I had enjoyed the sunset, kneeling at my Master's feet outside, and everyone had then filed in, as it got dark. My hands and knees were cleaned in the mud-room as guests were sat at the dining room table. When Master judged me as presentable, I was led in. Those shiny hard wood floors really made me appreciate the money Master had spent on these special kneepads.

I kept my eyes to the floor like a good little bitch as Master walked me into the dining room. Conversation stopped again as I felt everyone's eyes on me. I couldn't see much of course, but I'd helped set the long table for over twenty places earlier, before Master arrived to collar and leash me. So I knew that most everyone was seated around it now. I heard some murmuring as Master led me around the table and past it to the side of the room. They were wondering where I was going to sit. Well, I certainly knew the answer to that question as I was led onto a padded gray kitchen floor mat.

"Stop", my Master commanded, and I stopped with my hands and knees on the mat, facing the wall, back by the kitchen door. I heard Carole's voice as she came out from the kitchen.

"We found these old mats that we don't use anymore. I thought they would give her knees some relief?"

"They're perfect, Carole. Thank you" my Master said.

"Do you think we need an extra sheet or towel down there? In case of mess?" Carole asked.

"There will be no mess" my Master replied. "My bitch knows the better than that."

"Oh-hhh" exclaimed Carole, sounding a little turned on now. "I would almost like to see a little mess now."

Meaning that kinky Carole wanted to see me punished. "Well, no matter then. I've got her bowls. I'll bring them out."

I heard the clatter of Carole's shoes as she went back into the kitchen and came out again. She bent down and placed a black double dog bowl in front of me.

"I trust this will be ok? I had to borrow it from a neighbor, but I cleaned it thoroughly."

"It'll do just fine", answered my Master. "Thank you for accommodating her special needs. It wouldn't do for her to think she can eat from a plate at the table."

"Oh, I should say not", Carole replied.

They were right, of course. I heard Carole wander back into the kitchen as my Master gave me my last commands before dinner.

"Stay. No drooling."

With that, he unclipped my leash and left me there on my hands and knees staring down at the double-dog bowl beneath me. The mat made it easier. I stayed there in position, listening to all the ambient sounds of conversation as everyone prepared for dinner, while in deep concentration. Ball-gags are funny things. It takes a supreme amount of effort not to drool when one fills your mouth, especially with your face looking down at the floor. But I hadn't gone through training for a solid year for nothing. I knew that my Master would inspect the dog dish beneath me before I was allowed to eat dinner. And if he found just the tiniest bit of drool in it, I would be punished. So I concentrated very hard on controlling my saliva.

As I knelt there, staring at that dog bowl and sort of listening to the sounds around me, my mind wandered. I thought back through that year of training:

...Of being trained to crawl on a leash to my Master's specifications. Back and forth, back and forth...Crawl, heel, stop...Crawl, heel, stop...

...To the shock collar I was obliged to wear during my probation period.

...To all the sex. I love being an eager fuck-pig for my Master. I dream of being fucked by him, and never want him to get tired of using my holes.

...To the seemingly endless rounds of punishment for even the slightest of infractions. It might just be a quick corrective slap to the face, or maybe a long session with the strap, cane, flogger or belt to teach me a real lesson. He favored the strap. It gave him the sound and feel of leather against flesh, along with a nice healthy thwack. The belt was my favorite. The sound of it going through the belt loops of his pants as he pulled it out did something indescribable to me.

...And to all those orgasms I missed. I am allowed to cum on Friday nights if I have behaved myself during the week. I missed so many of those during our first months together, until it finally clicked in for me on how to be his slave. But I still miss the occasional week, and it is an excruciating feeling when I do. After all, if I've misbehaved enough to lose my orgasm, than that means I also need to be punished, and that just turns me on even more. It's a vicious circle that my Master is happy to take full advantage of. Believe me, I am motivated like no other to be his good little bitch.

As I was musing on all this while keeping myself from drooling, the sounds of dinner coming closer swirled around me. Footsteps in and out of the kitchen, the clatter of serving trays, bowls, plates and cutlery, the flow of easy conversation as more drinks were poured...

Then felt a shadow over me, and Carole bent down with a plate of food in her hand.

"Like this?" I heard her ask. Then I heard my Master say "yes" from the table.

The plate was artfully arranged with tender beef medallions all cut up into bite-sized portions, potatoes au gratin and asparagus. It looked like a picture from a gourmet magazine. Carol then used a knife to push it all down into my food bowl, smushing it all together. Then she filled the other bowl up with water.

I still had my gag in.

I stared down at that smushed-together food while the sounds of everyone tucking into their meals reverberated around me. It looked downright ugly compared to how it had been on the plate...but I still wanted it. I was hungry. Very, very hungry.

My universe contracted into something very small during these moments. It was just the food in the dish below me, and the drool in my mouth I fought so hard to control. This was a supreme test that my Master liked to inflict upon me. One little drop, and that food would be taken away. I would go hungry for the night.

I felt like I knew how a dog felt.

The intense concentration made my hearing exceptionally acute during these episodes of torture. I swear I could pick out my Master putting his knife and fork down on his plate and pushing his chair back through the sound of everyone talking and eating. Sure enough, those footsteps I thought I heard came around the table towards me. Then he was kneeling beside me. He inspected my food and water first, looking for the glistening sign of saliva.

There was none.

Then he ran his palm over my ball-gag and inspected that. Nice and dry, because no drool had escaped my lips. I don't want to sound conceited or anything, but I had been damn good tonight.

"Good pet", my Master said as he patted my head. Then he unstrapped my ball-gag, and pulled it out of my mouth. This was the single hardest part of the ordeal. I had to really work to keep from letting a mess of saliva drop out with that ball-gag. It was difficult, but I'd had a lot of practice over the past year, and I prided myself on my ability here.

Master then stood up. All I could see were his Oxfords next to my bowl. I waited like a good little bitch for my command.

"Eat."

With that, Master headed back to the table as I was finally able to get at that food. I'd just taken my first bite when I heard another familiar voice address my Master.

"Could I possibly be of assistance?" There was that unmistakable British accent again.

"I'm sorry, what...?", my Master replied.

"Help her, I want to help her."

"Oh. Well, that's very kind of you, but she doesn't really need any help. She's very well trained."

"Oh, I can see that, and I can see that you've done a superb job..."

Boy, was this saucy Brit laying it on thick.

"...But I just want to get down there, and have a little fun. Surely, that would be ok?"

I heard the silence of my Master weighing the options of this very strange request.

"Well, I don't see how that could do any..."

"Oh, thank you!" The Brit didn't even let my Master finish his sentence. I could hear her practically leaping out of her seat, and the next moment she was kneeling down by me.

"My, my", she said. "What a good little slave you are. Nibbling your supper like such a proper little lady. I just love someone who knows her manners, don't you? But here, let's make it a little more comfortable for you."

Saucy Brit held me in place a bit, and then undid my hair clasp. My hair fell about, but then she scooped it up and held it bunched up gently in her hand. Then I went back to eating. In truth, it was more comfortable. It was nice to let my hair loose a bit.

As I ate, she lovingly stroked my back with her other hand, giving me little compliments as well. I was really loving this. It was just so...pleasant. It made me feel like I really was a good little bitch for my Master, and was deserving of this attention.

I liked this strange little woman from the UK. I mean, who wouldn't?

But then that hand stroking my back started wandering down.

And down.

And down.

I felt her fingers feel down to the crack of my ass. She lingered there for a bit, just inside my panty line, probably testing the waters. I could here her breathing getting a little heavier. So was mine. I felt like I could feel her looking around to make sure nobody was watching her. Then she pulled her fingers back, and slowly went down over my panties. She felt down the crack of my ass to my butt-plug. I could feel her playfully push on it a bit. Then she went just that bit lower.

She was cupping both the butt-plug and my cunt now, and she was...

...Fondling me! Squeezing and caressing, and...Oh God. I was already wet enough down there. She was going to take me over the edge if she wasn't careful. And I didn't know if she even cared about being careful.

I tried to keep my mind on my task, which was eating my food at a

careful, deliberate pace. My Master had put a lot of work into slowing down my eating over the past year, so that I didn't eat too fast. It was healthier that way, better for the digestion. Also, better for actually enjoying the meal. As I tried my best to concentrate, she leaned down to practically whisper in my ear...

"I want what you have so bad, but my bloody Master's in the UK! After you're done with your meal, I'm going to ask to clean you up, and then lock myself in the toilet and edge myself until they break down the door."

She gave me an extra hard squeeze down there as she said that. I wondered if this woman was absolutely certifiable, or just another greedy cunt like me, as I concentrated like mad on just eating my dinner, like a good little bitch.

Yet still the rubbing continued. I could tell when my Master was looking over, because that hand would suddenly disappear. I could just imagine that overly sweetened innocent smile the Saucy Brit must have been flashing at my Master. And then her hand would be right back down there, fondling away.

God, I wanted to cum so bad! Ooooooohhhhhhh....! And she knew it too! But that clearly was not an option in a crowded dining room...and on a Saturday, to boot! My orgasm night had happened the night before. No matter how well I behaved tonight, I wouldn't be allowed to cum for almost an entire week. So I just did my best to concentrate on those beef medallions. At least they were delicious. The asparagus was good too, but trying to chomp asparagus with just your mouth was quite the challenge.

Despite the distraction, I eventually finished my meal. Most everyone was still at the table, enjoying conversation as the last of the slow-chewers finished up. If the company is good and the wine is flowing, then people are rarely in a hurry to get up from their seats, and that was the case tonight. I knew my training well. After licking my bowl clean and dipping my face in my water to rinse it off a bit and take a last sip, I rose back up onto my hands and knees and waited. When my Master was ready for me, he would come for me.

My face wasn't entirely clean, of course. It was wet from the water and there were still bits of food on it. I always did my best, but that was the reality of dining out of a dog bowl. I hoped I wouldn't be punished too much.

My Saucy Brit friend finally granted me some relief by removing her hand, and then re-tied my ponytail. Then she rose off her knees to crouch down on her feet. So she was still at the same basic level, but her crotch was almost visible to me. I swear I could feel her looking around carefully again. Because then her hand went into her dress, and she started rubbing her panties into her cunt. She really got into it, and even reached back to rub it hard all along her ass as well. My body was between her and the table, so it's likely anyone glancing over wouldn't see this.

She then used both hands to slip her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. I wasn't sure if I should be impressed by her grace and subterfuge or wary of what might come next. Because of course, something always comes next.

She gripped my hair with one hand to steady me, and wiped my face with her now soiled panties!

"There, there, my dear. Always good to do a little tidying up after dinner, right?"

She did indeed wipe up all the food and water from my face, but she was basically doing it by rubbing her cunt and ass over it. I could smell it already. I was looking up by now, and did indeed catch her looking around carefully. Then she pushed her dirty, soiled panties right up against my mouth.

"Open up, luv."

Before I could even realize what I was doing, I opened my mouth just a bit...and she shoved them in.

EWWWWWWW!

My mouth was suddenly assaulted by the combined taste of the food, water & sweat she'd wiped off my body, and her cunt and ass. I don't know that anyone has ever had occasion to taste this precise combination of tastes at the same time. What I can say, is that I wouldn't recommend it. As she clamped my mouth shut to keep it in, the Saucy Brit leaned down to talk quietly in my ear again.

"Now, I am going to go over to the loo a bit, lock myself in, and play with myself while I think about being in your place. It's going to be some fantastic edging, and I may even disobey orders and go over the edge. You just stay here in place like a good little slave and keep my panties moist. I'll be back in time to retrieve them before we move on to the living room, and this will just be our little secret."

And that is just what she did. Within moments, she was in the bathroom no doubt edging herself away. She was apparently unconcerned with the ethical quandary she'd left me with. I did not have permission to have her panties in my mouth. I wasn't sure how thrilled Harlan & Carole would be with this mad British harlot masturbating in their bathroom either. Yet, I felt I needed to keep her confidence and go along with this, for some reason. I guess we were sisters in slavery?

I spent some tense minutes keeping my position on my hands and knees there. From the table, I'm sure I looked fine, but I was really starting to sweat. I kept sneaking looks at the bathroom and the table. Timing was everything here. If the party broke up at the table before the Saucy Brit was back, then my Master would find the panties in my mouth, and I would have a lot of explaining to do. No matter how I spun it, that was going to mean some punishment.

The minutes ticked by. I couldn't see a clock, but I could sure feel them. Ten or fifteen minutes must have passed. Ooooooooohhhh, that wanton little...!

"Thanks for keeping these moist for me, luv."

Her fingers were suddenly in my mouth, pulling her panties out. I hadn't even heard the Saucy Brit approach me! I must have gotten so wrapped up in my mounting panic, that I just plain didn't hear her.

As she crouched down beside me, she squeezed them and winked at me. She looked quite flush from her activities in the bathroom. Then she dropped the panties in her handbag. Well, they certainly couldn't go back on her in that state!

"Such a good pet", she said as she patted my head. "I must tell that to your Master tonight."

And with that she rose and melded back in the crowd just as they were getting up from the dining table now. I could make out the footsteps of my Master approaching.

I had done it! Everything had gone just right, and I had narrowly avoided a sticky situation that would have ended in punishment. I could not remember the last time I felt so relieved.

But my mouth still tasted of British cunt and ass.

After-Dinner Aperitifs, and...

Dinner was over, and I was still on my hands and knees, where I belonged.

Once the migration from the dining room to the living room had begun, my Master had led me to the bathroom, so that he could relieve himself in my mouth. I was a good toilet for my Master, and swallowed it all. I was then allowed to relieve myself on an actual toilet (yay!).

We were all now spread out around the living room. My Master was in one of the chairs facing the couch. I knew he would never have opted for the couch, since he of course preferred to sit higher than the rest. He had his masterly quirks, after all. I knelt beside him on a cushion with my hands behind my back. I was grateful for the plush pillow.

I felt relieved. You may think a mouth full of piss is just disgusting, but I now knew it was preferable to the taste of my dinner mixed with panties rubbed in cunt & ass. I had never been so grateful for our shared watersports kink in my life. I was just starting to relax when...

"You know, you should put your feet up, old man", Harlan said to my Master mischievously. "Let me get you a..."

"That's ok, I have my own", said my Master. I knew what that meant as my Master raised his legs and snapped his fingers. My brief break was over, and it was human furniture time. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled in front of my Master so that he could use me as a footstool. That's ok, I was used to this. This was how we generally relaxed after a severe punishment or good fucking at each other's homes. At least he scooted the cushion over so I could still use it. My knee-pads were quite effective, but with all this time on my knees, every extra little bit of padding helped. I appreciated it.

As usual, my mind started to drift as the conversation went on around me with my Master's feet comfortably on top of me.. These mindless duties that required no actual activity would usually cause me to zone out. I thought about the choice we had made to live apart. My Master wanted total subservience when he was with me, and this required a commitment of energy and concentration between us. It could get intense at times. We both agreed that trying to keep that up 24/7 while co-existing domestically was virtually impossible. I loved my Master, and I certainly felt, or hoped, he loved me. But I just wasn't looking for a normal relationship at the moment. I'd done them, and found them rewarding in some ways, and wanting in others. It didn't help that I seemed to have an unerring ability to pick vanilla previously. Now that I finally had a chance, I wanted to try this total obedience thing. It might not last forever. We were both ok with that. Or, it might morph into something else. One thing I did know was that we were exclusive to each other. If we were to ever play with others, it would only be with each other present, and agreed upon ahead of time. So far, this night with me in conspicuous slavery was the most that we'd ever opened up our dynamic outside of just the two of us.

I'm not sure how long I was allowed to prop my Master's feet up while my mind wandered, when I suddenly heard his fingers snap. He knew me well, and knew I could be a million miles away, but that would always bring me back into the room.