ART 1: Preparation
She read the note Master had left for her taped to the mirror:
Tonight you will be known only as Hostess. Your attire for the evening has been laid out for you on the bed. You will prepare and present yourself to me at 6:00. You will receive and serve our guests. It is most important that you perform your duties well. You know what I expect. I know you won't disappoint.
'Hostess'. She whispered the title to try it on for size. In the past months she had worn so many names; Pet, 'S', slut, little one, fi-fi, slave, cunt, Susan, Diana, Princess, Darling, poopsy... she couldn't remember them all. She could scarcely recall her name from the time before she swore her eternal devotion to her Masters' pleasure and began her life as his indentured servant. Soon she would forget her past life completely, and what of it? Hostess's life was full now, forever full of the moment. Every moment of her life now had a purpose, something which commanded her attention. At this moment Hostess's attention was commanded to her grooming. She would have to attend to her toilet quickly so as to have enough time to dress.
It was therefore with haste that she showered, dried and applied talc to her entire naked body. She then ran the brush one hundred time through her long flowing hair which hung well past her shoulders. Afterwards she pulled it back tightly and tied it in a pony tail with a wide pink silk bow. At this point Hostess sat herself at the large vanity and took a deep breath. Though it was essential to proceed quickly, tonight was a formal occasion requiring exceptional application of make-up, and any errors would mandate starting over thus squandering precious time. Hostess methodically rendered her flesh to appear soft, warm and flawless, her eyes gleaming pools, her lashes dark and long, her lips and nipples bright crimson.
She now turned her attention to the items Master had laid out for her. She would of course dress from the inside out. This necessitated that she don the strap-on harness first. The harness consisted of a narrow leather belt and a triangular piece to which two dildos were attached and was held in place by flat chrome chains. The smaller, four-inch phallus was inserted into her pussy, while the larger, six-inch dong protruded outward at a slight angle. Two of the chains ran between her legs and up to the belt, parting the crack of her shapely ass. Thus while the harness filled her cunt it simultaneously rendered her asshole all the more available for use, and along with the fake cock jutting from her pelvis, she was equipped to service both men and women.
Next, the garter belt. Then the fishnet stockings. Hostess paused to straighten the seams before attaching the garters. She then pulled on the french-maids uniform. The neck line was cut deep and wide, her plush breasts framed in lace, pushed together, and exposed. The petticoats flared the skirt leaving her smooth round butt equally exposed.
As she donned each article she felt her flesh tingle where it touched her. Master had selected each item especially and where that which he had chosen touched her, it was as though his own flesh embraced her. Next she fastened the leather shackles on her wrists and ankles. Each one secured with a small brass lock. She lingered as she locked the matching leather collar to her neck.
Hostess inhaled and held her breath as she fastened the busk of the satin corset. The corset squished her waist and pushed up her chest. It forced her into good posture, throwing out both her tits and ass. Lastly, hostess stepped into the three-inch black leather spike heels. The fact that Master had chose only three-inch heels indicated that she would be on her feet all evening.
Hostess paused only briefly to check herself in the full-length mirrors that covered one wall before hurrying downstairs. Master was already waiting at the foot of the stairs. He wore a tailored suit but without a tie. He carried himself with an air of confidence, so handsome and commanding.
Hostess stopped three feet in front of him and then executed a well practice prostration. In three graceful moves she squatted, kneeled, and rocked forward. Her ass high in the air as her lips came just to his toes which she quickly kissed and then lovingly licked with only the very tip of her tongue.
"Arise Hostess" he commanded. She quickly obeyed and stood at attention. He looked her over with a critical eye, circling her with slow sure steps. He made some minor adjustments and then pronounced "You are on time and look fine. I am pleased." Hostess permitted herself only the beefiest hint of a smile to play across her lips. Inwardly her heart soared for she lived to please Master and knew no greater pleasure than his approval.
"Turn Around" he said in a casual voice. She obeyed and he busied himself with the laces of her corset, pulling them tight, starting at the top and working his way down, till he reached the narrowest part of her waist, then starting at the bottom and working his way up. When he had removed all the 'slack' he planted his foot in the small of her back and with the laces wrapped round each hand pulled them as tight as he could. Hostess was now very tightly bound and could scarcely breath. The laces were wrapped around her waist and tied in back.
"Just a couple of finishing touches" he announced. "Your duties tonight will be to serve our guests. You will therefore need a serving tray." He buckled a special tray around her waist. The tray was kidney shaped, about a foot wide, fitting perfectly the curve of her waist. It was held in place with a wide leather belt that buckled in back. The belt also had two D rings, one on each side. To these, he attached chrome chains, and the ends of the chains he attached to her wrist shackles. Thus, Hostess's hands could extend only as far from her hips as the edge of her tray.
"Turn around" he ordered. She complied. "One last touch" he said grabbing her nipple and pinching it rhythmically. He affixed tweezer clamps, connected with steal chain, to her erect nipples.
PART 2: Inception
"There" Master proclaimed, observing the glinting hyperbolic curve connecting her nipples.
"Fold your hands and rest them on your tray. Keep you eyes on your hands"
Hostess complied. Master again strode round her, circling her twice.
She was never more alive than she was at this moment. The corset and heels constantly constricted and contorted her, promoting the feminine curves of her body to the maximum extent. The french-maid uniform proclaimed her position as servant. Her exposed tits and ass, the fishnets, and the fake cock jutting out from her, were all starkly vulgar and touted her depravity. She found this humiliating, and the constant awareness of her revealed appearance kept her in an excited state.
The chains and shackles were manifestations of her enslavement. These literal restraints, which truly deprived her of freedom, were equally effective in their symbolic value. The collar most of all symbolized how completely she belonged to another. She loved to wear his collar, loved feeling it around her neck, and loved also to be seen in it. The was nothing that could express better, and nothing she wished to express more than, her complete and total devotion to her beloved Master.
The dull throb in her nipples and phallus filling her cunt, stimulated and distracted her to even greater heights. Stimulated to such an excited state, it took a surprising degree of self-control simply to stand still.
Hostess was also awash in joy. For nothing gave her greater pleasure than Masters' approval. And though she focused her gaze on her hands, she could hear in his footsteps and also in his breathing that he approved of her now.
"Perfect" he said "You look absolutely wonderful Hostess. For you first act of service tonight, fix me a scotch and soda and deliver it to me in the den."
"Yes Sir" she replied dropping a slight curtsy and walked to the small bar that had been set up in the foyer. His eyes followed her as she moved savoring the way her body was displayed and the hesitating stiffness that the heels and dildo which filled her pussy, imposed on her gate. Even so, her stride was well practiced and though it betrayed her bound and occupied condition, it did not want for grace.
Hostess arrived at the bar as Master headed off to the den. The tray and chains restricted her reach, requiring her to stand sideways to the bar. With one hand, she placed a glass on her tray. She mixed the drink and added ice, noting how she was forced to focus on each movement that she could ordinarily do without thinking. With the drink on her tray she headed off to the den where Master was waiting for her. She had to concentrate very hard as she walked, to keep from spilling the drink. With each step, the dildo inside her stirred her juices. She was so wet now that her ooze was beginning to seep out the sides of the harness and dribble down her legs.
Hostess entered the den. Master was seated in the overstuffed leather chair. Dvorak played softly on the stereo. She approached his chair from the side, clasped her hands behind her back and bent at the knees bringing her tray to rest on the arm of the chair.
"Scotch and soda Sir" she said. He picked the drink from her tray and casually took a sip. Hostess did not move or speak. She kept her eyes on her tray and waited for him to acknowledge her. A few seconds later he took another sip.
"Very good" he said simply. "Now return to the foyer and admit our guests as they arrive. Take their coats, fix them a drink, and show them in." As he spoke he lit a votive and set it on her tray.
"Yes Sir." She stood, turned and walked out.
She lost track of time. She had been at her post, alone with her thoughts, and for what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, when the doorbell startled her back. She went to answer the door, then stopped. She knew of course what was expected of her. But the imminent reality of presenting herself to the eyes of strangers without even Masters presence for comfort, was unexpectedly terrifying. She took a breath as deep as the corset allowed. Failing to perform this simple duty was unthinkable. It would mean punishment far worse than the embarrassment she now feared. Even more horrible, it would mean disappointing Master, and the thought of causing him displeasure was more that she could bear. She therefore steeled her resolve and opened the door.
A middle-aged, not unattractive, very well-dressed couple stood on the porch. Their eyes widened at the sight of her and they stood speechless. Hostess' face felt suddenly hot. The heat ran all the way down her body to her feet in a wave. She felt a rush of adrenaline and could actually hear her heart pounding in her chest.
"good evening" the words were barely audible it was all she could do to speak them at all. Her eyes were now fixed on their shoes. She took a couple of breaths and recommitted to her determination.
"Sir!" too loud, now she was nearly shouting. "Ma'am" better.
"Won't you come in?" she said stepping back and gesturing with a tethered arm. She closed the door behind them. "May I take your coats?" There was an awkward moment as held out her arms, but they just stared blankly. Eventually they removed their coat and wrap and laid them across her arms. They tuned to follow her with their eyes, as she walked out of the room and returned a few moments later
