God she was beautiful. I was so nervous, on my knee, at her feet, telling her how I felt. Yes, I went the whole nine yards. She just *had* to marry me. How could I believe she would go for *me*? Well, yes, we'd dated quite some time, but even *that* amazed me. She held the little case and looked at the ring. I went on and on: I'd do *anything* for her. Her silence seemed to spur me: I couldn't *read* her. She just stared at the ring. She looked up at me. "You'd do *anything* for me?" She looked so serious. "God, yes!" I answered. Still on one knee. I would have never believed I would come to this. She was absolutely beautiful. She didn't answer immediately, but looked thoughtful. The case in her hand, the ring still in it. "Come," she finally said, and stood. I was confused. She still held the case, now closed. She caught my eye again, and started out of the room. I quickly got up and followed her. She drove. Her red Corvette. I must have been crazy to think she'd go for me. But we *were* dating. I didn't know *where* she was taking me--this was so strange. We stood at the door. The car was behind us, standing in the driveway. Behind that were the grounds, which were huge. The door opened, a man dressed in a sort of servant's uniform appearing. We'd never knocked or rung. "Good evening Ms. Cannon," the man said to Rachel. Then: "Come." Rachel didn't hesitate, and I followed. The front hall was huge, with a giant curved stairway. He led us through a double-door to the side, to a relatively small room. He turned, seemingly signalling that we were all stopping, but then left, pulling the doors shut behind him. Rachel and I stood there in the room. "Rachel, what is this about?" I finally asked. "Shh. You said you'd do *anything*." Yes, but who would have guessed *this*? She made no move to sit, so I didn't either. The door opened, and the uniformed man stood to one side. A woman entered and he pulled the door shut again leaving the three of us. She didn't greet us or even much look at us and Rachel didn't say anything either. She sat in a chair in front of us, and as soon as she was situated, turned her attention to us. She was beautiful. I think she might have been 50, and in a way her face showed it, but she was still beautiful. She wore a black dress, and had long black hair. She looked at Rachel briefly, then turned her attention to me. She stared right at my face. Still, no one had said a word! Finally she spoke: "Well, well, Rachel: very good!" "Thank you ma'am," she replied. Then suddenly I felt Rachel's mouth at my ear as she whispered: "Do this for me!" Do what? The woman just looked at me, curiously. Then I realized that Rachel had slipped to the side of the room. I glanced over to see her pouring wine in two glasses. She carried them back and set them on a little table. Then she opened a fancy little container and lifted out what looked like a tiny spoon. It looked to be silver. She poured its contents into one of the glasses. I stared. She gave me that glass and took the other glass for herself. She lifted it to her lips briefly. "Drink," she said to me. I looked at the glass. What had she put in it? I looked at Rachel. What sort of game *was* this? She was so beautiful. She nodded to me. "Do you love me?" she whispered. And waited, watching me. I took a little sip. Something was off, but I couldn't work out any specific taste. She nodded again. We both sipped again. The woman giggled just a little. "OK, Rachel," she said. Rachel looked at her. "Switch glasses." Rachel looked confused. She didn't move. "Do it," said the woman. Rachel finally moved to take my glass and hand me hers. She stared into the glass I had drunk out of. She didn't want to drink it: that was written all over her face. She looked back up at the woman who was staring at her. The woman gave her a little nod. She drank. A sip. Another. I drank too. "OK," said the woman, smiling. Rachel put the glass back on the table, each of us having drunk just a couple of sips. We were standing there. What had we drunk? Rachel whispered "thanks" in my ear. We stood there. "OK, let's get on with it," said the woman. Rachel looked at me and I looked back at her. "Take off your clothes," she told me! I stared at her. "Please! For me!" It was a pleading voice. I glanced back at the woman and looked back at Rachel. This was getting weirder and weirder. Rachel. Why was she even *dating* me? "Come on, you said..." she added, her voice trailing off. My mind raced. I started unbuttoning my shirt. They watched patiently as I took it off. and then the rest. I stood there, naked in front of them. Rachel walked away, coming back with something in her hand. Leather straps with buckles. "Hold your wrists behind your back," she said. I looked at what she held: restraints of some kind. "Come on," she prodded. She put them around my wrists. Then something around my ankles: a chain to hobble me between two leather cuffs encircling my ankles. Then she had a gag of some sort, with part of it to push in my mouth. And she put a collar around my neck. And we were standing there, again. I was gagged and restrained. She attached a thin chain to my collar. It dangled from the ceiling. "*Very* good," said the woman. "Let's see." Rachel approached her and handed her the ring case. The woman opened it. She took out my ring and inspected it. She slipped it on one of her own fingers. All her fingers had rings: it was just one more ring. "Very nice," she said, again, and looked back at me. "Now, come here for your reward." Rachel approached the woman and laid herself face down across the woman's lap! Her rear was up in the air, her hips resting on the woman's thighs. The woman reached to the hem of Rachel's dress, which was ankle-length. She slipped a hand under the hem and up Rachel's dress, managing to do so without uncovering her legs even a little bit. They remained like that, the woman's hand under her dress. I started to hear Rachel's breathing. She breathed harder and harder. Soon she was gasping for breath, out of control. The woman still sat there, her hand inside Rachel's skirt. Finally Rachel seemed to spend herself, and lay there, recovering. The woman removed her hand. Then Rachel stood and came back, standing on the other side of me. "Very nice, Rachel," the woman said, "I'm *very very* pleased. Show me your tongue." Rachel opened her mouth wide, and stuck out her tongue, the tip down toward her chin. The woman just looked at her. "*Very* pleased. Next time, I'll allow you to pleasure me. Go." Rachel left. I stood there. There was nothing to do: I couldn't walk more than a few feet the way I was restrained. She looked at me again. "You'll do just fine," she said. "Now I'll have Max get you trained." I stood in uniform, holding the tray of food, serving the entre. There were about thirty people at the table, all impeccably dressed, Elizabeth at the head. That was her name: Elizabeth. The one I was serving, another woman, looked up at me. I knew her from previous such dinners: she was always dressed stylishly. "Take off your pants," she said. I didn't hesitate. Max had done his work on me: on the third day, when he said "suck", I was deep-throating him within five seconds. This woman seemed to "like" me. I knew she'd have me to her room again later that night. Her husband watching. I'd have no choice at all. She'd signaled another of the waiters to come over. I bent over at her order. And got to feel him thrust into my rear. The diners didn't pay much attention to us other than the woman. His cock jammed in and out of me. She reached out and felt my cock--it wasn't soft. She looked into my eyes. We were the only ones doing anything like this at the moment: the other waiters and waitresses just went about their business. Then I was back to serving, my pants in place again. I managed to steal a glance at Susan, one of the waitresses. I wondered what she thought of me, doing that, but we were all in the same boat. And I wouldn't mind at all if one of the guests had me do *her*. I glanced at Susan a lot, but she never appeared to notice. If she'd been interested, we'd have managed to get together sometime: we did have *that* much freedom. But she just went about her business. In the kitchen, afterwards, I was surprised to find Susan at my elbow. "In the store-room five minutes after cleanup," she said in a voice low enough that only I could hear. I couldn't believe my luck. I was there. She came in. She was *definitely* attractive. "You're going to help me escape," she said. "What?" "I've got it figured out, but I need your help." She went into a plan. I listened only partly. So this is what she wants: help escaping. "Got it?" she said. "I think so," I answered. "You have to *know* so," she said in a frustrated voice, and ran over the plan again. I listened more closely. It could work. We could get out. But I wasn't at all certain: you can't tell about Elizabeth. It was later and we'd finalize the plan. We slipped out of a window and started across the grounds. She'd figured out when the guards weren't around. Or so she'd thought... We stood in front of Elizabeth. Both restrained. Naked, our clothes on the floor around us. "Well, well, well," Elizabeth said, looking at us. She picked up a phone and made a call, speaking too low for us to hear. Then she just sat there, looking at us. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes at least. Finally a man entered the room. He looked at Elizabeth and at Susan. He walked up to Susan and put a hand on each side of her head, drawing her head close to his, and just held her like that for a little. Then he took off her gag and her hand-restraints. Then he kissed her on the lips. She stood there. He left her and poured two glasses of wine. He put them on the table, and opened the fancy container. And dumped powder into one of the glasses. He gave Susan the glass with the powder and took the other one himself. He looked at her. She just stared into his eyes. "Drink, Susan darling," he said. His voice was silky. He took a sip. She looked at her glass. He nodded at her when her eyes returned to him. He sipped again. She did too. They both drank. All of it. Her eyes never lft him the whole time. He smiled. He took her glass and put them both back on the table. Then he reattached her hands together, and her gag. She just stood there, letting him. "Thank you, Stephen," Elizabeth, said. "Now for your reward." She handed him a long, slender black cloth. He stood next to her and tied the cloth around his own eyes as a blindfold. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock! He started stroking it and getting it hard! "OK," said Elizabeth, and he stopped, removing his hand, leaving his cock sticking out, right in front of her. We just watched. It was sticking out straight. Suddenly I noticed another man standing behind Elizabeth. I hadn't seen him come in: he'd come in silently. The man reached around Elizabeth and took hold of Stephen's cock! He slowly stroked it. "You like that?" asked Elizabeth. "Yes!" hissed Stephen. She pulled the man's hand off, and then said: "OK." Stephen started stroking his cock again, faster, and came. The other man was gone. Stephen took off his blindfold. "Very good, Stephen," said Elizabeth. He zipped himself up, and left. She looked at us. "OK, Susan, now listen to me." She paused, looking at us. "You want to go. I'm going to let you go. "I'm going to have your restraints taken off, and you can get dressed and leave. I won't stop you or bother you. But I will give you another choice. Do you *feel* anything?" She paused. "I think you're beginning to *feel* something. Do you feel anything down *there* yet? A little feeling? An *itching*, inside you?" Again she paused. "It would feel awfully good to have a cock in you now, wouldn't it? This man here adores you and would *love* to fill you right now. And he's *good*, too: *very* good, I'd say. Would you like to feel his cock in you right now? A cock, and that feeling inside you? "I'm going to release you, and then you have two choices: get dressed and walk out, or... lean forward over the back of that chair and let this man take care of you--of that feeling. That's your choice, Susan. But if you take *him*, you stay." Being in Susan felt as good as I thought it would: heaven! When we were done, two men put her restraints and gag on again and led her away. As they were leaving, Elizabeth said: "I thought you were one of the few who would cooperate *without* the help of the powder, Susan. I must admit to being a bit disappointed." Then Susan was gone. I was left there, in front of Elizabeth. She eyed me. "Very nice," she said at last: "you will be quite useful." I didn't answer. "Quite useful: you're going to be something *special* for me! You want a reward?" She held out the black cloth to me and smiled at me. She was so beautiful. I shook my head no. But I looked at her and thought about it. I was thinking about what it would be like to *seem* like she were touching me. I actually thought about changing my answer. She giggled. I could tell: she knew exactly what I was thinking. "OK, but the offer stands. You will be *very* useful indeed. Now off with you: I believe one of my guests has requested your presence yet again." Once again, she had that sly smile. My mind raced. Had Stephen *known* what she was doing? "Don't worry," she continued: "you'll have *her* again." I started to dress. She didn't move. As I was leaving, she said: "Just a minute." I paused. "I'll do one thing for you: I'll tell you a secret," she said. I paused to look at her, but simply waited for her to continue. "The secret of the powder. You're not going to reveal this to *anyone*." She paused, briefly, then went on: "You know what's in it?" "No," I mumbled. She smiled and leaned closer, and said in a softer voice: "Absolutely nothing."