His Indecent Training 4 (4 page)

When I got to the kitchen, I lingered there for a while, trying to
recompose myself.
Why do you let this woman have such of an effect
on you? She's the past. You're the now. Nothing is going on between
them.

The pervert cook stared at me, licking his lips as if I was more
delicious than the food.
Why doesn't Damien look at me like that?
I want him to look at me like that. Not her.

It couldn't be helped though. Whatever went on between them tonight,
whatever looks that they gave each other, whatever subtle touches she
tried to get away with, I would have to endure it—
endure it
for him, because this is what he wants. This is what will make our
relationship stronger. And this will show her that I am better for
him than she ever was.

I took a deep breath, straightened myself, and strode out of the
kitchen . . . well, waddled out of the kitchen, with as much
confidence as I could muster. Danica had integrated herself with the
group, talking and laughing. Thankfully, guests had already filled up
the seats closest to Damien, so she was a safe distance away. That
made me feel a little better.

After handing Danica the bottle of water she had requested, I did my
best to ignore her until the other guests arrived. Thankfully, she
was a slow drinker, so I didn't have to attend to her.

It wasn't much longer before everyone showed up. There were twelve
people, including Damien, which was easy enough to keep up with. I
spent a good amount of time parked, which allowed me to listen in on
the conversation. One of the Doms said he was having a large dungeon
built on his property and would be holding a play party when it was
finished. Damien told him we would attend, which gave me something
else to both look forward to and dread.

Finally, Damien called everyone into the dining room for dinner. I
did my duty filling up glasses before going to retrieve the salads.
The serving was slow, since I wasn't a practiced waitress and could
only carry two bowls at a time. If I had full use of my arms, I might
have been able to manage more, but I didn't want to chance it.

I shuffled along, serving Damien first and then making the clockwise
rotation, clanking as I went. Oddly, this was when everyone started
to feel the need to touch me. One of the Domme's poked at me when I
placed her salad in front of her. It was strange to be touched in
such a way, and I honestly didn't know how to react, so I just
finished what I was doing and continued on as if nothing was
happening to me at all.

By the time the first course was served, the people who had initially
received their salads were already finishing. Apparently, it wasn't
proper etiquette in the BDSM circle to wait until everyone had been
served before they started eating. Bored with waiting, one of the
Dom's called me over. I thought he wanted a different beverage, but
as soon as I flanked his side, he pulled his chair out, grabbed me by
the wrist manacles and yanked me down over his lap.

My gasping was met with a round of light laughter from the rest of
the party. Nervously, I glanced over at Damien, who looked back at me
with a deadpan expression before continuing his conversation with the
Dom to his left. Others whispered their amusement about how I was in
trouble.

I turned to look at the man who had captured me right before I felt
the first smack across my ass. He rubbed my cheeks between slaps,
alternating them. The pressure was light but pleasurable, and I felt
myself becoming aroused, enjoying the spanking, wishing he would do
it harder.

A hand tangled into my hair, gripping me harshly and drawing my head
forward. That's when I realized who the hand belonged to. Danica
stared down at me with dominant eyes. I wanted to be angry at her for
touching me, but the forcefulness of it coupled with the spanking
only worked to arouse me more.

Oh God, what's wrong with me? I shouldn't be liking this. This
woman is my enemy, but. . .

“
You're such a cute little
thing,” she said. “You like having that ass spanked,
don't you?”

I nodded, tensing up as I felt my underwear being pulled down. My
backside was full of heat, my body quickly flooding with lust. In
that moment, they could have done anything they wanted to me. I was a
slave to my desire.

Despite my anticipation, everything was over almost as soon as it had
begun. Danica released my hair, and the gentleman whose lap I had
been leaning over pushed me back up, practically forcing me to stand.
I wasn't sure what to do, and it took a moment of staring blankly
before my legs began to work again. Instinctively, I reached down to
pull up my underwear, but one of the Domme's called to me not to
touch them, so I let them fall, further impeding my movement as they
caught on my ankle cuffs.

Before long, I was in the grasp of another Domme. This one thought it
would be fun to claw her nails across my ass. The pressure she used
was far from pleasant, and it made me remember scratching down
Damien's back, how I had made him bleed. If it felt anything like
this, then I couldn't imagine him enjoying it. Then again, he was
also distracted by sex at the time. I had nothing to distract me from
what was being done. That was, until the Dom I was facing began
fondling my breasts.

This was attention I had expected to receive in the living room, not
in the dining room where everyone was hungry and waiting on food.
Apparently, their hunger extended beyond food, and touching my flesh
was more important. It was a flattering thought, though I still
didn't know what to make of everything that was going on. I had never
imagined I would allow so many strange people to touch me like
this—that I'd actually enjoy it.

I was breathing heavily by the time the Domme was finished with me.
She had clawed and spanked my ass until it burned something fierce.
While I didn't dare to take the time to look over my shoulder, I
could only imagine that my ass was a mess of pink welts and hand
prints.

Throughout the entire serving experience, I was subjected to
spankings, breast groping, and nipple pinching. By the time the
dinner was over, there wasn't a person in the room who hadn't touched
me . . . except for Damien. He kept his hands to himself, watching me
move around the room as if what was going on wasn't phasing him at
all.

When the guests retired to the living room, I cleared the table and
then hung out in the kitchen for a while to reflect on everything.
The chef was washing the dishes, but he still ogled me between
plates, making it hard for me to focus.

The blonde woman touched me. She touched me and I liked it.
The thought absolutely repulsed me. Though I considered myself
bi-sexual, and I did find Danica attractive, I couldn't picture her
as anyone but the enemy.

I had liked a lot of the other things that had gone on too though,
the groping and the spankings. What did that say about me? I wasn't
sure, but it was making me confused and a bit emotional.

Don't analyze this now. If you spend too much time thinking about
it, you'll never get through the night. All that's left is your
performance. You can do this.

I took a deep breath and headed back into the lion's den, filling up
cups and trying to psych myself out for what was to come by going
over all the positions in my head. This was the last part I needed to
get right. Then the party would be over, and I could sort out my
feelings.

As soon as all the beverages were refreshed, Damien announced it was
time for my demonstration. I noticed that Danica had managed to worm
her way closer to him, which filled me with discontent, though there
was nothing that I could do about it. Obediently, I took center stage
in the middle of the living room and waited for my first command
while the party goers watched me intently.

“
Come,” Damien said, and
I waddled over to him.

To my relief, he extracted a set of keys from his pocket and released
me from my bondage. Of course, it made sense, because I couldn't
perform most of the positions without full mobility. When he
unfastened my ankle cuffs, he took my underwear with them, leaving me
naked except for the high heels. Then he sent me back to the center
of the room to await his next command.

“
Pleasure yourself,” he
told me.

That wasn't a position I remembered. In fact, it wasn't a position at
all. For a moment, I was confused, standing there dumbstruck. The
rest of the party watched me in anticipation, whispering to one
another. Damien's gaze was steel, never breaking, looking on
expectantly.

He wants me to obey. This is what he meant by demonstrating my
obedience. It had nothing to do with positions.

My chest felt tight, and I was suddenly afraid. There were so many
eyes on me, crawling all over me, soaking in every centimeter of my
flesh. What he was asking of me was to share something very personal
with the entire room. I didn't think I could go through with it.

“
It's alright, sweetie,”
one of the Doms tried to comfort me. “We're not going to bite.”

“
Let's see that cunt,”
another one said, his tone every bit as vulgar as his words.

I looked to Damien for protection, but he just nodded.

With a deep breath, I crouched down, bowing my legs and exposing
myself to the room for their viewing pleasure. Unpleasant emotions
raged through me. Fear, embarrassment, guilt, confusion. I tried my
hardest to pretend I was alone. Then again, if I was alone I wouldn't
be in such an awkward position.

It won't take long. Just get it over with, and they'll leave. If
you stop now, it's all over for you and Damien. If you embarrass him,
he'll disown you.

The thought spurred me on to slip a hand between my legs, rubbing my
fingers back and forth across my slit, though I derived no pleasure
from it. My mind was constantly vigilant of the eyes upon me.

“
At least pretend you're
enjoying it,” the vulgar man said.

“
Spread those pussy lips.
Let's see what's inside,” Danika told me.

I took her advice, scissoring my fingers to expose my inner workings,
though I couldn't force myself to look happy about it.

“
That's a good girl,”
Danica continued, “Now rub yourself and moan a bit.”

For as much as I hated the woman, I desperately needed the direction.
I did as I was told, rubbing and moaning and faking it.

“
Now rub those titties,”
someone else said, and I followed their command too, groping my
breasts.

Despite my nervousness, my body seemed to be responding well enough.
My nipples were perked, hard nubs beneath my fingertips. Each gently
pinching and rolling of them caused a shot of need to travel straight
to my cunt, and eventually I began relaxing and actually wanting to
touch myself. Having a wanton body has its advantages, I supposed.

Finally able to get into it, I put both hands on my breasts, kneading
them, pressing them together, pulling them apart, and then going back
to tease my nipples. My body seemed to be on sensitivity overdrive
under the watchful eyes of my voyeurs, and I found myself growing
greedy, wishing someone would come and take one of my nipples in
their mouth, or stuff their fingers into my wet cunt. Of course, my
first thought was of Damien. Oddly, the second person I fantasized
about was Danica. Then I went around the room, picturing all the
different faces there pleasuring me. When I tweaked one of my
nipples, it was someone else's hand touching me. When I rubbed tight
circles over my clit, I imagined it was one of the Dom's tongues.
Soon, the moans were genuine as I let myself fall further into sexual
oblivion, drowning out everyone around me, filling my head with
fantasy.

“
Now get on your hands and
knees and finger yourself,” the vulgar man said, drawing me
from my thoughts only long enough for me to switch positions.

Shamelessly, I turned my ass to the audience, resting my head on the
carpet and spreading my legs while I reached a hand around to tease
my hole. My index finger slipped inside with ease thanks to the
wetness that had amassed from earlier pleasure. I groaned as my inner
channel squeezed around it, massaging the intruder. For several
minutes, I fingered myself, varying the strokes. It wasn't enough
stimulation though, and soon I was pulling the finger out to rub
across my clit, bringing the waves of my orgasm to the surface.

“
Requesting permission to
come, Sir,” I said.

“
Permission denied,”
Damien replied.

My hand withdrew from my cunt, allowing my pleasure to subside while
I changed positions. I figured it was as good a time as any to
transition. Again and again, I brought myself close to orgasm,
stopping at Damien's command.

After a while, Damien left the room, returning with a thick red dildo
and a bottle of lube, which he handed to me. My cheeks grew warm as I
looked at the dildo. The thing was thicker than his cock, and longer
too. There was no question about what he wanted me to do with it.

I returned to my original crouching position, scanning the guests for
their reaction. Most of them looked on intently, awaiting my next
move. Some of the Dommes and submissives were less interested though,
chatting among themselves.

The vulgar man seemed the most interested, the one who had spanked me
while Danica held my hair. He was slightly younger than Damien, with
equally dark features, but not half as handsome. On his arm was a
young woman, probably his submissive, who seemed almost frightened of
him. She had avoided making eye contact with anyone the entire time
they had been at the party and barely spoke a peep. Neither of them
had been at the munch.