1.
The mirror told the story; the question was how it had come to this point.
His face was half covered by the dark hood he wore, with black mesh to see through, and his body was covered only by the gunmetal gray leather corset that ended below his chest. His nipples were cupped above it, accented with the rose colored lip gloss. His cock was kept hard with the cock ring strap, and the loop of the decorative tassel. The tassel glittered in the candlelight, with its red and gold metallic fibers and the ball of fabric, a ridiculous ornament like part of a classical drapery, dangling between his legs and tapping his thighs as he walked. Only his left hand was free, with its leather cuff clipped to the silver tray he held; his right wrist was cuffed but clipped to the metal loop of the corset behind his back. The low heeled shoes she had given him lifted his hips and made him walk carefully.
He turned away from the tall gold-framed mirror, careful to hold the tray and its four tall flutes of Champagne level. He walked slowly across the Oriental rug, down the hall to where he heard their voices. The room was glowing with soft light, and the sky outside the French doors was a deep evening blue beyond the dark trees. The older woman, with short dark hair, looked up and watched with a small smile as he came over to the sofa and chairs. Her fashionable slim silk wrap dress and pearls clearly fit this elegant room, and she re-crossed her legs and watched him watch her.
The three younger women were laughing and talking all at once, in the middle of a story about their day. All three of them were dressed in the fashion of that summer, with short skirts and long bare legs, clinging tops and colorful clunky jewelry. Before they turned to him, his eyes automatically went to their legs and the shortness of their skirts and the shape of their breasts and his cock hardened a bit more. They turned as he stepped closer, and reached to take their glasses from the tray he balanced in one hand. They looked to each other and laughed, at him this time, and sipped the drinks.
"You took your time getting this, Five, I thought you were better trained then that." It was the sharp-eyed blond with smooth short hair, wearing the low cut knit dress that barely came to her thighs. He turned to offer the last glass to the older woman on the sofa, and the young brunette behind him slapped his bare ass sharply, making him almost tip the tray.
"You are very slow today, are you distracted?" she laughed.
He had to bend forward to offer the tray across the low table, with his eyes on the woman in silk. She lifted the glass, sipped from it, then reached forward and poured a bit of the Champagne down the cleavage of his corset as he leaned toward her. The fizzing wine buzzed on his skin, and as he stood up he felt it run down to his belly, held in by the leather he wore.
"Five, here I am trying to show these young women the power they have, and you're not meeting the standards I trained you to. That is disrespectful to all of them. Take your position, and make your apology."
His face was red and hot at being reprimanded, as he put the empty tray on the low table and knelt in the center of the room. The leather corset pressed his breasts upward as he knelt, balancing with one hand still behind him, and his hard cock jutting out with the swinging tassel.
"Please excuse my poor performance and failure to show proper training, I beg your apology Ladies." His voice sounded scratchy, he had not expected to have to speak at all. The third young woman stepped forward, to take the silver tray from the table and place it on the carpet in front of him, where she poured her glass of wine onto the tray.
"Drink the wine, Five, and pay more attention." His eyes flicked up at her, hidden behind the mesh, and he spread his knees to awkwardly bend forward, with his cock against the floor, to put his face to the silver tray and lap up the wine with his tongue.
The women had stopped chatting, and were chuckling now to watch him, a much older man, face down and ass up, licking the silver tray with his belly wrapped in the corset. One of them was behind him, and he felt the pointed toe of her shoe between his thighs, pushing them wider apart and reaching under him to tap his balls sharply. His cock hardened more, and they saw the effect.
"Get up on the platform Five; I can see we need to remind you once again what you are now." The older woman put down her glass and stood up, and he automatically watched the slit of the silk dress show her thigh.
He got awkwardly to his feet, and moved over to a low leather bench by the windows, where he knelt on it with legs wide and his back held straight by the corset. The woman walked to him, bringing her empty glass.
"Melissa and Heather, I need your help here please." She handed the glass to one girl, and then leaned closer to him. "Put your hand out, Five."
He arched his back and held out his palm, and held still as she spat into it, feeling her warm spit run over his fingers. He looked, down, from behind the hood, and used his left hand to awkwardly stroke his hard cock. Not being able to use his right hand, as he had so many times over the years, made the effort feel odd and out of balance as he worked to make himself harder. The woman stepped to one side, and handed the empty wine glass to the younger blonde.
"Heather, hold this and be ready, and Melissa give him some encouragement please, he is older and not one of those young boys of yours." The brunette with cropped hair stood alongside the other girl and looked into his face as she lifted her short skirt for him and smiled.
He was flushed with embarrassment but excited to see her exposed this way, the small thong under her skirt and the scent of her own excitement. He struggled to pump, with more friction now, rubbing the spit over his hard cock and spreading his legs. The tassel swung as he worked and he felt his body respond and go down the slope and then he was pumping and dribbling and his heart was pounding.
The girl held the glass to his cock, catching the thick fluid and he watched it roll down inside the glass. His body was still rocking as he felt the hard slap of a leather paddle on his exposed ass, again and again as he convulsed. The woman in the dress was spanking him hard, as the other girl dropped her skirt and laughed. They watched as he brought his left hand to his lips and licked it clean. The woman with the glass tilted it to his lips, and they kept laughing as he waited for the thick syrup and swallowed it, licking the glass clean. His cock sagged, still half hard with the cock ring.
"There you have it Five- no pleasure for you anymore, every time you cum you will have more pain then release, and you will be the one drinking it all. No more of your dreams of that cock between a woman's lips, or buried in her, and you being in charge. You gave all that up, and here you are. Tell me what you became, Five."
"I am a slut and your servant Mistress, you own my body and my mind now."
She used her hand to cup his chin, and softly stroke the hood that covered his almost-bald head. She unfastened the wrist behind his back, and led him into a hallway where she clipped both wrists to a hook high on the wall, leaving him standing in the half dark. She pulled the edge of the hood up to double it over his eyes, so that he was blindfolded, and he heard the tap of her heels as she walked away.
For the rest of the evening, he heard the murmur of their conversation, and their laughter and good humor, as he stood in the hall out of sight. Several times, as one of the women passed by, he felt hands on him, peeling the corset lower to roll his nipples in their fingertips, or patting his belly in the smooth leather, or going between his legs to touch or slap him, or to tug on the swaying tassel, but he said nothing and never knew who had done what. He understood the point- he now had no privacy or control, and he was nothing to them but the big-bellied slave in the corner, in corset and a tassel.
2
When it had begun a long time ago, he had his own much different self-image, an executive at the top of his business career, sophisticated, well-traveled, now single after the divorce and a long marriage. He was spending a lot of evenings in restaurants, enjoying good food and sometimes chatting with the servers as he joked lightly and signed the checks. Balding, yes, a bit heavy, ok maybe very heavy, but in his view a very presentable senior person.
He was at the new Northern Italian restaurant one evening, with a nice glass of Barolo red, when he saw a woman alone a few tables away, ordering the same wine with her meal. She looked up and their eyes met, and he smiled and raised his glass in a half toast to good wine. He sent an espresso to her after the meal, and she smiled when he went over to chat. She was a research professor, in a field unlike his own, and they chatted about food and films and the city. She laughed and refused to exchange names and biographies, but she wrote a phone number on the restaurant card. A week later, they were at dinner together.
He was trying his best to be charming, but she had a different edge to her conversation that night, and he found himself slightly off balance. She said she knew this place well, and ordered food and wine for both of them. During the meal, she insisted he try her entrΓ©e, and leaned across the corner of the table to put a forkful into his lips. She was leading the conversation and he was bringing in what he knew, when the conversation drifted into erotic films and books, and she watched his eyes.
She turned to him as she was speaking, and surprised him by extending her hand to dip a finger into her wine glass, then reached out and put it to his lips. Without even thinking, he leaned forward and opened them, to take her finger into his lips and taste the wine. Her eyes were cool and steady, and he felt his defenses drop away.