Wednesday 20 February 2013

#ThursdayThrills - Dinner Theatre

Time for another Thrill. Head back to the Blog to read all the others.

"Wine," one of the men in black ordered. Jasmine yipped and jumped forward, nearly slopping from the decanter.
A hand landed on her bare bottom and she took the glass pitcher in both hands. "Fool, girl! How do you expect to be ready for tomorrow?"
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, feeling tears in her eyes.
"Give me that," another man said, grabbing her pitcher. "On your knees, slave."
Trembling, she knelt, opening her mouth. She was fairly certain she knew what would come next.
"What have we here?" a female voice said. Jasmine didn't take her eyes off the man's crotch before her. "Boys, you can do better than this." There was a snap of fingers and scurrying. "This is Emanuel. I think he compliments your girl, nicely."
The man in front of her stepped back. "Indeed. Let's see them together. Jasmine, turn around."
She didn't rise scuffing her knees as she turned to face a young man, also nude, his cock hanging limply against his thigh. Behind him was a shiny black skirt and deep red blouse on a woman no larger than Jasmine. She was obviously in charge, however.
"Hmm," the woman said, tapping her finger to her lips. "No, I don't think so. Evan, move those plates and glasses aside," she said to one of the men in black, pointing at one of the tables.
"Yes," he said, brushing silverware and flatware away onto a cushioned chair. "Jasmine, come here."
She rose obediently, her apron brushing her thighs, the only clothing she wore. She stood at the table looking toward the fireplace.
"Tomorrow, all eyes will be on you. You and Emanuel. Give us a taste of what our guests can enjoy," he said running a finger down her cheek.
"Y-yes, sir." She stammered only slightly. She wasn't afraid. She trusted Evan, more than the other men in black. His friends had never hurt her, but she always had the impression they wouldn't mind if they did. Evan knew exactly how to hurt her, how to make it burn in the way that had her pulse racing. She glanced up, breaking her submissive stance to peek into his eyes. A smile, full of warmth and love resided there, a smile she could trust.
Emanuel looked at his mistress the same way, and so neither felt the least afraid or even uncomfortable as they bent over the table. Jasmine's smiles and cries were genuine, Emanuel's thrusts and grunts honest and true.
"Breathtaking," the woman said.
"I don't know, just a couple people fucking," one of the men in black muttered.
"And that, John, is why you will never have a sub like Jasmine," her Master told him. "You don't see them clearly. That's my girl," he murmured and she was spurred on, encouraged to go deeper.
When she and Emanuel lay on the table, panting and exhausted, applause came behind them. Jasmine tried to turn and Emanuel shifted so they could both look behind them.
"Tomorrow is going to be perfect," the woman said.
Jasmine smiled and started resetting the table.