Dinner and Dessert

Today was the day.

I looked at the clothing laid out on the bed in front me of and frowned. A heavy pit of dread settled towards the bottom of my stomach. The dress was much more demure than I was expecting, if a bit short. It was a beautiful burgundy red, with a scoop neck and cinched underneath the chest. The dress flared out from there and looked like it would end around my upper thigh. The skirt was quite voluminous and light so although it wouldn't be overly revealing if I was standing still, I'd risk exposing my crotch if I bent down or walked with long strides.

There was also a set of accessories laid out on the bed. A slim gold bracelet that he got me for our first anniversary. Then, a sparkling yet tasteful set of dangling diamond earrings I told him I wore when I wanted to feel fancy. I smiled at his thoughtfulness.

My smile immediately receded when I saw the hot pink dog collar. Whatever sense of dignity I might retain from the dress and accessories would be canceled out with this cheap looking symbol of my lower status to everyone else at dinner. I rubbed the collar between my fingers. It felt rough and itchy. I gritted my teeth in annoyance. Even the color of the burgundy dress and hot pink collar clashed together in a garish way.

Bastard.

Jeremy knew I liked to dress well and I had specifically mentioned to him how I'd make a point not to wear colors that clashed. I loved and hated how he could be so simultaneously sweet and mean.

What really had me fearful was the underwear and bra set. I use the terms "bra" and "underwear" very loosely here. The bra was black and made out of a stretchy material, lycra or spandex. Most importantly, the nipples were cut out. It was chilly in the apartment today and there was no doubt my nipples would be hard and poking out obscenely through the thin dress. The underwear was latex and looked like boy shorts. Of course, to match the bra, the crotch was cut out from front to back which would expose my vagina and asshole in all its glory. Jeremy had said he wanted me to serve all of the food and drink for the night. Every step or movement in that dress would potentially expose my pussy. God, what if I started getting wet. You'd probably be able to see it dripping down my legs; it's not as if there was any material to absorb it.

I shook my head. The thought of it was too embarrassing to handle.

Could I really do this?

To give you a little background, Jeremy and I had been together for almost two years now. It's the first submissive/dominant relationship I've been in. We were a pretty vanilla couple at the beginning. I built up the courage to divulge my fantasies to him after our first few months of dating. Before then, we had been having rough sex. Hair pulling, spanking, nipple pinching but nothing super exciting, at least to me. What truly turned me on was the humiliation of having to submit to someone else. To be coerced into doing degrading things. Made to suffer for another person's pleasure. I wanted him to exert complete control over me.

I told him this when we were laying in bed one night after having romantic, but boring sex. It was okay sex. I mean, I came and he came. But I knew I wanted more than that. Needed more than that.

Jeremy looked pensively ahead for some time after I explained this to him. I scrutinized his expression and held my breath. Did he want to dominate and control me like I wanted? Or did he think I was too perverted? I mentally cringed at the thought of expressing my deepest sexual desires to someone who found them disgusting. What if he couldn't handle it and he decided he was going to leave me? Already, I was regretting bringing it up...

Jeremy turned to face me and smiled warmly. The gleam in his eyes immediately comforted me.

"I want that too."

The next few months were a whirlwind. It felt so liberating to submit to him, as odd as that may sound. On some nights, I'd spend a half hour after work naked and kneeling by the door waiting for Jeremy to come home so I could beg to suck his cock. He'd occasionally deny me the pleasure and punish me spanking my ass until I begged for mercy, all the while chastising me for being such a greedy whore. I spent one weekend acting as his dog, not allowed to walk on two feet or sit on any furniture. Jeremy lead me on all fours throughout the house on a tight leash and forced me to eat from a dog bowl. We fucked on the grass in the backyard (doggy-style, of course), pulling hard on my leash as I came. The feeling of losing control was so exciting. And the orgasms, oh god, the orgasms. They were nothing compared to the ones I had when we first started dating, much less with any of my former boyfriends. I hadn't felt more energized and sexually satisfied in years.

Slowly, he and I had begun to attend munches together. For a long time, I had been hesitant to go to any sort of BDSM events. I imagined very serious people in head to toe bondage gear who all had 24/7 BDSM relationships. I assumed it would be too intense for me. But a month or so ago, we met another couple, Sophie, another submissive, and Charles, her dominant. They were around our age, late twenties, and seemed surprisingly, well... normal. And friendly. We had met up a few times privately, just to talk and hang out. Sophie and I bonded over our shared hatred of clover nipple clamps. Charles and Jeremy traded tips on affordable bondage gear. They gave us a lot of useful advice on S&M relationships. I was so grateful that we had met them.

When Jeremy informed me that we'd be playing together this Saturday, I was ecstatic. And also terrified. We all spoke in sordid detail about our experiences and hinted around having a session together. But I didn't think it'd actually happen. At least not so soon. I spent most of Friday night incredibly turned on and anxious about what could happen.

So, today was the day. And I wanted to back out now.

Sure, it was hot to fantasize about being submissive to other people. Jeremy had been dirty-talking it up for the past few months and I gleefully encouraged it, cumming to the idea of being naked and degraded in front of everyone we knew. But right now, in the stark reality of day, it seemed like too much. Even though I had a rapport with Sophie and Charles, I couldn't imagine being paraded around in front of them like this. We just had brunch the other day, for god's sakes. And now I had to serve them food while struggling not to flash them. Already I could feel my face turning hot and red. My eyes began to water. I sulked and buried my face in my hands.

Jeremy poked his head into the bedroom and could see that I looked upset.

"What's wrong my little submissive," he teased in a sing-songy voice.

I turned to face him. His expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

"So I guess you don't like the outfit."

"No. No, I don't. It's humiliating," I said, beginning to sniffle.

"But, I thought you liked being humiliated," he replied, smiling lightly.

I nodded and stared at my feet.

He stood in front me and held my head up to face him.

"If you really don't want to do this, you can safeword. We can just have a regular friendly dinner with them."

Again, I glanced down at the clothes laid out on the bed. How it would feel to be doting on them hand and foot. Being treated like a common servant. Exposing myself in front of everyone. I noticed that all too familiar pressure building up in my loins, urging me to move forward.

I knew if I backed out now, I'd regret it.

"I want to do this."

He nodded expectantly, as if he already knew how I would answer. He took the opportunity to slowly run his hands down my naked body. His warm hands caressing my breasts, the sides of my stomach, my hips, then my thighs. I shuddered at his touch.

"Get showered and dressed, then meet me downstairs. Don't be late." He emphasized the word "late" by twisting my nipples roughly. I yelped out loud in shock.

"Aah!"

"Now, what do you say when I hurt you," he asked.

"Thank you, Jerem--"

A flash of intense irritation appeared on his face. I had forgotten. I still addressed him as Jeremy when up until a few days ago. Although he liked to hear me say his name, he preferred something that would "always remind me of my place." I could vividly recall the arrogance in his voice when he told me.

"'Well, Sir' would be better but it's not quite right... What if you addressed me by last name--'Mr. Parsons?' I like the formality of it, but it still doesn't have that certain je nais se quoi..."

He paused to rub his chin with his thumb and forefinger. After a beat, I could see the lightbulb go off in his head.

"Okay. Call me 'Master.'"

It sounded so ridiculous to me, almost laughable. Master. It also infuriated me. I considered myself a strong-willed and independent person outside of the bedroom. He wanted me to acknowledge his superiority over me with every sentence. He knew this would piss me off.

I stared at him intently and said, "Thank you, Master," barely containing my disdain.

"Watch your attitude or you'll be punished later. And not by me."

I quietly whimpered at the thought. Master turned around and walked briskly out of room, leaving me alone again.

I sighed deeply.

Here goes nothing.

It was a quarter to seven. I was showered, dressed, and made up. I even matched my lipstick to my dress. I could at least attempt to look elegant for the time being.

Hesitantly, I walked down the stairs. The material of the dress was thinner than I thought. The skirt swished and swayed with a mind of its own. It offered me little warmth from the chilly air. I could feel my nipples hardening. The bra was a tight fit and it seemed like they made my nipples jut out even more. As I suspected, the dog collar felt itchy and uncomfortable against my neck. I certainly couldn't forget it was there. I also couldn't shake how truly naked I felt. The feeling of the cool air against my pussy was a keen reminder.

Was I just moist or was I wet already?

Master was sitting on the couch drinking a beer, looking content and cool as a cucumber. He looked dapper, wearing a casual blazer, slacks, and a button down shirt. I smiled when our eyes met.

"Kneel by the door, greet our guests, and take their coats off when they arrive," he barked. He wasn't going to take it easy on me tonight.

I answered, "Yes, Master," and despondently walked to the door and kneeled. The cold hardwood floors weren't exactly comfortable against my bare knees. I shifted back and forth, trying to balance the pressure. With each minute that passed I got more and more anxious. My stomach fluttered and I began to feel a little nauseous. I waited for what seemed like an eternity. My knees began to hurt more and more and I wished Sophie and Charles would just get here already...

There were two fast and hard knocks at the door.