Mistress Dewitt opened her mouth in a large yawn. She shook her head, blinking in the late morning light that filled the breakfast room. Needless to say, the young woman hadn’t gotten to bed until very late last night, and after everything she’d understandably gotten very little sleep once in bed.
“Slave! Coffee!” Dewitt shouted, in a voice that promised agonizing punishment if she wasn’t propitiated with caffeine within the next couple of minutes. She slumped back in the wooden chair with a groan. After they had returned to the party, Dewitt and the real Mistress Oberon had been bent over the refreshments tables, their legs spread, on display for the entire party, while they’re treacherous slaves encouraged the guests take advantage of their helplessness.
She groaned, still somewhat sore from the large rubber phallus which spent the rest of the evening lodged inside her backside. With that hole blocked, more than a few of the Masters had made use of their other holes…which wasn’t all bad, come to think of it. Dewitt managed a smile. “It seems the stories the rumors the slaves tell about Lord Filvea were true. Too bad he only beds slaves. And I have to admit, Lord Moresby never fucked me like that back when he was courting me before I became Mistress Dewitt…”
Unfortunately, after that, Mistress Toulouse had stepped in, having fetched her piercing kit. With a soft groan of pain, Dewitt raised a hand. Gingerly, she cupped one breast. Luckily, with winter coming, she could hide behind thick sweaters for the next couple months, but when summer rolled around, she’d have some awkward moments the next time she attended someone’s pool party… “And I got off relatively easy…” Dewitt thought. “Poor Oberon. I wonder how she’s doing…” Silently, Dewitt vowed to find some way to get back at Toulouse for that…
A rattle of chains announced the arrival of the coffee. Dewitt turned as the door opened and Sally shuffled into view.
“Mmmppphhh…” Sally groaned. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale, save for the shadows over her eyes. Needless to say, after she’d finally gotten around to unchaining her Mistress, she’d gotten even less sleep then Dewitt had. Nor would she any time soon, as far as the Mistress was concerned.
Slowly, the slave girl shuffled over to the table, carrying a tray with Dewitt’s coffee and the morning paper on it. Not in her hands, though. A small tray was balanced against her belly, the back side contoured so it fit snug against the slave’s body. Two leather straps circled around and was buckled behind her back. On the front of the tray, a pair of chains, keeping the tray level. The other ends were attached to a pair of nipple clamps, pinching the naked slave’s pert breasts.
“Have to get those pierced and ringed soon…” Dewitt thought, watching Sally shuffled forward, as quickly as the straps binding both her feet and her ankles allowed, struggling to keep the tray level. It wasn’t helped by the two, very large plugs, currently lodged between her legs. “…discretely, before someone wonders why she isn’t sporting jewelry there.” She grinned, savoring the prospect of paying her slave back for some of last night’s indignity.
Sally reached the table. Her hands were locked behind her back with tight metal handcuffs. The chain connecting them was just long enough to permit her use of one hand at a time. She awkwardly picked up the contents of the tray and set them before her mistress.
“aaahhh-eee, ssss-ttrrssss…” Sally grunted. A thick leather panel gag covered the lower half of the girl’s face. The thick leather straps ran around her jaws, and across her forehead. Behind the panel, the girl’s cheeks bulged. Dewitt had dug deep through the laundry hamper searching for the three pairs of panties stuffed in her mouth.
“You brought this on yourself, you know.” Dewitt chastised her slave. “I hope you enjoyed yourself last night, because you’re going to be paying for it for a long time yet.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, I can’t send you to the Society’s dungeons, or use any of the really hard punishments. I’d have to tell them why I wanted you punished and if word got out about last night, my reputation would be ruined! I might even be forced out of the Society!” Or possibly even enslaved. Dewitt mentally added, afraid to even mention the possibility out loud.
“So you just think about how lucky you are.” Dewitt said, giving Sally a hard slap across her naked, ass, still a faint red from the night before, as the slave turned to return to the kitchen. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, slave, not to try anything like that again…” she grinned, watching Sally shuffled away. “At least not until next year…” Dewitt thought to herself. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time…”