I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...
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You are seated on long black leather couch. Soft music plays to those selected to be in attendance at your very private salon. It's an invitation only party, the special ones only. Men and women mill about, cocktails in hand, chatter and the sound of beautiful music fills the back half of the room.
You are dressed in all white, made up fashion perfect. You are in a shoulder-less and backless evening gown, your breasts pushed up, cleavage highlighted. You wear gorgeous lace top stockings under it all, soft and delicate lace white panties, satin high heel shoes. I was privileged to be able to help you dress. You are gorgeous.
People smile, wink and nod. One even bends and puts his hands on you as you sit. He kisses your naked shoulder. He's your new found lover. He's a very handsome man, very masculine. He's new to your decadent parties but is learning fast.
At the back of the room there are a number of sissy types, some cross-dressed, two naked, all restrained. They are parked, left to wait, set aside by their owners. Some are in collars, cuffs, some are passable CD/TV girls. But this is not about them. This is about you and your wonderful salon and the show you offer up to your very select kinky guests.
The large room is dimly lit, one stark light only. It's a spotlight shining down on your little sissy princess. It shines down starkly on me.
I am stroking, humping frantically. I am struggling to cum. My rear end thrusts madly in the air. I am fucking a pillow. I am on a small two foot high platform stage for all in the room to see. A thin chain runs down from a bar above me, runs down from the ceiling. It runs up under the left leg opening of my ruffled panties. It disappears under and into the rear of them. The thin chain is connected to the permanent gold ring that keeps my tiny balls and penis surrounded tightly. The chain holds me so as to not allow full thrust of my small erect penis into the pillow on the table surface below me. The tight chain makes me struggle to fuck my pillow rather than just thrust heavily against it. I can only run the sensitive underside of my little erection, the hole of it, against the inside of my panties and across the surface of the silk pillow.
I try so hard to please. I try to make the underside of my penis connect with the pillow, work so hard, so very hard. I struggle furiously to get the friction, the contact needed to cum for you and your guests. And that is what this about, your guest's amusement, amused by my humiliating little show.
I am dressed as the sissy I am for you. My girly little high heel ankle boots flailing in the air, up on my knees with my chest and face to the table below me, my heavy breathing and moaning is almost lady-like. My delicate whimpering, butt thrusting and pumping as best it can, I am the show. I feel sweat on my inner cheeks up the crack of my rear end. A drop of it runs down over my balls inside my panties. I work so hard to cum. That is what I'm on display to do. Fuck my pillow and cum in my underpants. I feel your eyes on me. I feel your dissatisfaction that I am taking so long to do what you expect me to do. And then I feel a hand on me. A hand that breaks my concentration, I feel for the first time something other than the trickle of sweat running down my arched back. I feel a large masculine and strong hand cover my thrusting cheeks. Startled, frightened, I look up to my side so quickly. It's him. I see your lover, your new man, looking down at my rear. I feel him cup my cheeks, hear him say quietly, 'dirty little bitch'. Only I hear him, see him glare down at me.
He runs his hand over the ruffles of my panties and pets my rear end. He strokes me. I struggle, almost thrash to pump, pump so desperately looking for 'the feeling'. The inner feeling that starts just before I know I will cum. I am begging for THE FEELING. Begging, 'please, please, please', I think to myself, 'please let me cum, please'. I press my face to the table in front of me. I fuck my pillow crazily as he watches. I try to ignore him, his deep presence. He walks away and I close my eyes and concentrate, so hard, feel tears in my eyes. I know that you will lose patience with me soon. I have been doing this for almost thirty minutes. It feels like hours. I don't want to be scolded, whipped in front of your guests, sent away from you and your party, sent to my punishment cage..
And then it comes. And then I feel it.
I feel the 'feeling', the one that starts so slight inside, so subtle, the one I have to fight to control when my Mistress uses me only to make herself cum, not me. I push my little erection up against the inside of my panties, fight with my knees to hold the pillow up high between them. I move against it, straight up and down, on top of it, butt way up high. I whimper loudly, cry out slightly. People are paying attention now, watching intently, commenting to each other, some laughing.
Then it happens.
I feel the first soft spurt, the next, the one after. I feel the rhythmic drip into my panties. I feel the offering for my Mistress and her guests. You hear me whimper, moan, bury the side of my face into the table. I see you stare at me, slight smile on your face.