On a beautiful summer's evening, my mind wondered as I stared out the kitchen window onto the expanse of woodland out of the back of the house. The sun had set behind the trees, and the final feint glow of light was only just still weaving its way around the bottom of the trunks, darting in and out, making its way through the forest. The window over the kitchen sink framed the scenery beyond perfectly like a masterpiece in an art gallery. I could stare at the view every day and it would still bring me a childish sense of awe. I had to stop myself from getting too distracted; I finished filling the glass in my hand and picked up the champagne flute to take them both through to the dining room.
I work most days as a waiter at my local restaurant, it's a fancy, yet cosy, establishment in the local village. Ran by a famous French chef Emmanuel, whose restaurant shares his name, it attracts the wealthy city-dwellers who come to the countryside in the summer. I've worked at the restaurant for a year, finding the job soon after moving to the area. My job mostly involves providing a smartly dressed pretty face to serve the fancy clientele their lunch. I only ever work lunch shifts, in the evening I'm waitering for a more important table - my Master's.
My training as a waiter is put to good use at home. As I'm carrying through the two drinks, I take care to check my posture as I walk into sight in the dining room. I'm wearing a different uniform to that at work. The heels are the same; black with covered toes and moderately tall heels, but that's where the similarities end. My black skirt is incredibly short, only covering the top half of my ass, and leaving my naked pussy uncovered. My white shirt fakes the appearance of a normal working shirt, but instead is unbuttoned down to my breasts, which are held on display by a push-up bra. Lastly, I'm wearing a thin black collar tight around my neck, and my shoulder-length black hair is tide back tight into a ponytail. This strict, sexualised uniform is set by my Master's wife, a stunning hot blonde woman a couple of years older than myself, and of similar age to my Master. Although she plays the role of his wife, she is still subordinate to Master, fulfilling his desires and coordinating us other submissives. She has an intimate understanding of Master's pleasures and desires, and thus sets the roles, tasks, and uniforms of all the subs in the house. She explained to me when she set out my uniform that the short skirt and open shirt fed a basic male appetite for ass and breasts, but the heels and collar were more personal.
"Our Master is turned on by the sight of a woman in a good pair of heels, and the choker shows off the neck while acting as a symbol of submission." She carefully explained.
When I asked her what his definition of a 'good pair' of heels were, she gave a lengthy and difficult to remember description of the good features and bad features, but at the end reassured me that the heels I wear at work will do fine, and she'd acquire any other pairs I'd need. Our Master gave her a monthly budget with which to buy lingerie, heels, and any other forms of appealing clothing for herself and the other girls in the house.
But tonight, I was just in my standard sexy uniform for serving Master and his wife their evening meal.
My Master had finished his dinner after coming home from work, and I was just taking through his and the wife's drinks as they continued their conversation. He was still wearing his dark blue suit, his tie removed, and top button undone. His wife was wearing a pleasant red and white floral dress she had been wearing for the day.
"Thank you, Lana." my Master said as I placed his drink on the table in front of him. As I go to put down his wife's champagne flute, she turns her head to face me. "Yes, thank you Lana," she said with a polite smile, "why don't you tend to your duties under the table now?"
"Yes miss" I respectfully respond. She was referring to one of my many 'sexual duties'. I carefully get down on my hands and knees and get into position under the table. The dining room is the second largest room in the house, and contains a large oak table centred in the middle, big enough for every member of the house to sit at at once. For most meals the Master sits at the head of the table, but as he is having a more intimate meal with just his wife, he sat at one side of the end of the table, opposite her. His position at the table is not only an important symbol of status, but also a practical choice. The table surface overhangs at either end by a few feet, making it easy for anyone to get underneath without having to get around table legs. As he was still sat at the end of the table, he could still sit opposite his wife and it would still be easy for me to position myself at his feet underneath the table.
Once I had got into my position, kneeling between his legs, I undid his belt, and slid his trousers down slightly. I gently started running my hand up and down his cock through his underwear, teasing it until it grew harder. I had built up a bit of a routine when it came to pleasuring my Master under the table. I keep teasing him in his underwear until I can start to feel the pants getting wet from the precum - it gave me a strange satisfaction to know I ruined his underwear, even it would come out in the wash. I then proceed to pull down his underwear, taking care to not catch his now quite solid cock, and pull it out of the way with my left hand while slowly wrapping the fingers of my right hand around his firm shaft. Now I've got everything out of the way, I slowly rub his own precum down from the tip to his shaft, using it as a natural lubricant as I slowly start a handjob. By now he is fully erect, and I can get the most pleasure out of him. I tilt his cock towards his abs, grip his thigh with my other hand for support, and move in closer to suck on his balls. I take on one at a time at first, until moving on to both at once. I take care in sucking with a good consistent strength, while maintaining a good rhythm with the handjob - this took a lot of practice to master at first!
All the while, he is continuing his conversation with his wife. I could not see above his waistline, so other than his firm cock - which was clearly enjoying the attention - I had no way of telling how much he was enjoying my service. I was disappointed that while I was giving it my all down here, he was still able to hold a normal conversation. I was hoping for a bigger reaction, perhaps a little increase in his breathing rate or at least some sign of struggle, not being able to hold a seemingly normal conversation! I clearly had to up the ante. I tilted his cock as towards me as it would comfortably go and teased the head with the tip of my tongue. His cock throbbed and tensed in reaction - clearly that did the trick. I wrapped my lips around the tip and started sucking, slowly going from gentle to rough. As that wasn't getting as much of a reaction, I started working my way up and down the shaft, giving a nice wet and sloppy blowjob. I had to be careful, I mustn't get to ahead of myself and make too much noise, after all I'm only meant to be here to serve and pleasure my master now, not distract from the evening with his wife. Even so, it frustrated me that I couldn't get a bit more of a reaction out of him. I knew that he was enjoying himself, and if I carried on as I was, I'd get plenty of praise, but I had one last trick up my sleeve. I wouldn't dare try to take his cock balls deep, as I knew I couldn't without making too much noise. Instead, I took it as deep as I dared take it, and grabbed his balls in my free hand, squeezing them as much as I thought I could get away with. I felt his legs widen as he tensed his cock, and finally I got the reaction I wanted. I had got too distracted to keep track of what they were talking about, but they had definitely stopped talking for a second. With a sense of pride, I released his balls, loosened the grip with my lips, and eased back to a gentle blowjob. I was taken over by an overwhelming feeling of fulfilment; although I knew my duty was to pleasure my Master without distracting him from what he was doing, I couldn't help but seek some sort of reaction from him.
However proud of myself I may have been, the joy was short lived, as it was suddenly replaced by a sense of shock. I felt the bottom of his wife's shoe press against the back of my head. She was pushing me further down his shaft, making me take him deeper. At first, I went with it, but soon had to push back against her to make sure I didn't make a noise by gagging, and I caught my breath. Almost immediately she was pushing my head back down with her foot again. I was flustered and had been caught completely off guard. On the one hand, I was trying desperately not to make a noise and wanted to push back when his cock was too deep down my throat, but on the other I didn't want to appear defiant. Although she is subservient to our Master, the wife is the highest in the hierarchy of 'subs' -- the 'Alpha sub'. She can instruct and punish me as she sees fit, provided it is in the Master's taste and does not contradict any of his orders. But I've learnt that she can have a dominant streak, and that was on show today. She pushed my head down harder this time, and pushing back was clearly not an option; she wanted me to push back, so that she could punish me for being disobedient. So, I tried to go with it. Master was clearly enjoying this, his cock was rock hard, and was rubbing up against the back of my throat. All of a sudden, I felt his wife's other foot lifting what little there was of my skirt and resting the toe on my ass. She then pushed down with the heel of her foot, rubbing the long, thin heel against my bare pussy. It wasn't pleasurable, it was uncomfortable and threatening, knowing that she could push her sharp, dirty heel into my pussy at any time. I was completely at her mercy. She kept one foot on my ass as she held my head down with the other until I could take it no more, I couldn't hold my breath any longer, and instinctively slammed my head back, hitting it against the bottom of the table in the process. The wife stood up and walked towards the door to the kitchen, "can I speak to you in the kitchen please Lana?" I get up from underneath the table and take a second to brush myself down and compose myself, "yes Miss" I reply.
In the kitchen, the wife confronts me about what happened.
"You seemed to be struggling with your duties today, didn't you?" she says judgmentally. I bite my tongue fighting back the urge to snap back at her, telling her that it's her fault.
