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I awoke the next morning at 6:30 sharp, rolling out of bed. Today was the day of the party. The day Miss Orwell was going to allow her guests to use me. Anxiety knotted in the pit of my stomach.

I read the card in the bathroom. It read:

– Shower, brush your teeth, etc.

– Put on the following outfit: A white thong, a powder blue button up dress, white no show socks, and a pair of powder blue flats.

– At 4:00 PM change into the following outfit: A white thong, a powder blue satin dress, white satin hand length gloves, and a pair of white heels.

– Curl your hair.

So this was what I was to wear to the party. I looked through my clothes, finding my first outfit of the day. I found the dress first–it was soft and sheer, seemingly made of the same material as my blouses had been. It had buttons going all the way down the front, as well as a button on either short sleeve.

I put on my outfit and checked myself in the mirror for any incongruities. My top button was unbuttoned–it would not be good to repeat that mistake. I fixed it.

Then, I walked down the stairs for breakfast, grateful that I wasn’t wearing the nipple clamps.

The day passed slowly, and my anticipation for the party grew. Harold was running around the house to get things ready for the party. I, on the other hand, had been ordered to stay by my Mistress’s side as she directed things. She touched my boobs intermittently for her own enjoyment.

When it was finally four, I excused myself to go prepare for the party. Up in my room, I looked at myself in the mirror. “You can do this,” I said, and with that, I started getting ready.

The dress was soft and, for once, opaque. It had big poofs of fabric at the shoulders, and the short skirt of the dress was quite poofy as well. I was amazed that it stayed up over my boobs, leaving a little bit of cleavage to spare (all the cleavage I had with my small breasts). The gloves were tight and soft as well, made of white satin. They fastened with a small button under my thumb. The heels were very high, and I had a lot of trouble walking in them, but with a bit of practice I mostly got the ankara escort hang of it.

After curling my hair I was ready for the party. I walked out the door to my room and descended the stairs carefully, using the banister for support. I could hear voices in the parlor, and the clink of glasses. The party had begun.

I made my way to the parlor and found Miss Orwell. She was engaged in conversation with a handsome man in a charcoal gray suit, so I hovered politely by her side. She wore an elegant navy blue gown with quite a bit of cleavage.

It didn’t take long for the man’s attention to turn to me. “Who’s this pretty little thing, Anya?” he asked. “You didn’t tell me you got a new servant.”

“Her name is Katie, she started the day before yesterday. I wanted her to be a surprise.” She retrieved a spoon from her pocket and tapped it on her wine glass. “Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my new servant, Katie.” The room’s eyes were on me. I smiled shyly. “You know the drill, use her however you like.”

The room was alive with chatter. They were talking about me. I felt my face flush.

The handsome man stepped closer to me and whispered in my ear. “I have plans for you, Katie. After I’ve had a few more drinks I’ll come find you.”

Well that was ominous. I managed a polite “Yes Sir,” and he resumed talking to my Mistress.

A butch woman approached me. Without a word, she reached out and caressed my left breast through my dress. She smiled at me, handed me a hundred dollar bill, turned and left.

A short, bald man came over and reached under my dress, petting my cock through my panties. I grew erect, and he gave my penis a few strokes through the lace before handing me a pair of hundred dollar bills. I had nowhere to put the money, so I held it in my hand.

I felt a hand on my waist, and I turned to see it was Miss Orwell. “You’re doing amazing,” she said. “You look so beautiful in that dress. Everyone’s talking about you, you know, they love you.” She took the money from my hand. “I’ll hold onto this for you, lovely. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back at the end of the ankara escort bayan night.”

And then she was gone again, off to mingle with a group of women in beautiful black evening gowns.

I stood there for a while as a procession of people came up and groped me, or took my hand and made me feel their crotch. Some made little comments about the size of my breasts and my cock, but most remained silent. By the time the man in the charcoal suit approached me again, I had well over two thousand dollars in Miss Orwell’s clutch.

“Hello Katie,” he said with a smile. “Come over to the couch with me.” I followed him across the room, my heart beating in my chest. What did he have planned for me?

He sat on the couch and unzipped his pants, pulling out the biggest cock I had ever seen. And It wasn’t even hard yet. “Suck,” he commanded simply.

“Yes Sir.” I knelt in front of him, my stomach in ropes. Tentatively, I put a gloved hand on his shaft and licked the head of his penis. It grew hard. Behind me I sensed a crowd forming. Everyone was watching.

I put my mouth around his head and bobbed up and down as far as I could fit it into my mouth. He grabbed me by the hair and moved my head up and down. I did my best not to gag. This continued for a couple of minutes, before he pulled my head up. My mouth was wet with his precum.

“Bend over the arm of the couch.” Numbly, I did as I was told, casting a glance around at the crowd. Miss Orwell, stood at the front, watching. She gave me a soft smile, and I returned it weakly. I was pretty sure I was about to have this man’s cock inside of me.

“Work her up to it, John,” she said. “I don’t think she’s ever had anyone inside her before.”

John nodded. My butt was up in the air, my cheeks visible to everyone in the room. He pulled down my panties. I heard a squirting sound behind me, and I felt something cool and wet touch my butthole. Lube, probably. He pressed his finger against my opening, and I did my best to relax.

The finger slid inside me and I found myself moaning. It was unlike anything I had felt before, strange but very pleasurable. escort ankara He pressed his finger against my prostate, and I moaned again, louder. Then, he drew his finger out again, replacing it with two. This strained my tight butt hole, but I took it obediently. He fingered me for a while, drawing his fingers in and out, eliciting small moans from me at each movement. Pleasure was already building in my stomach.

Then he took them out, and I felt his warm cock head press against my opening. This was it, it was happening. Part of me wanted to quit the job right there. I had already made enough money that night to pay rent for a good few months. But no, I needed to be ordered around by Miss Orwell. Nothing had turned me on so much in my life. And if this was what she ordered me to do, I was going to do it.

The cock pushed inside of me, deeper and deeper until the man’s entire shaft was within me. I moaned uncontrollably. I was full, as full as I could get without being in pain. Then he began moving it back and forth, and my prostate sang with pleasure. Within only moments I could feel that I was about to have the biggest orgasm of my life. Quickly, I remembered to ask permission. “Miss Orwell, may I cum?” I asked through my moans.

“Yes, dear, you may.”

The orgasm was like nothing I had felt before. Electric waves rippled through my body, ending in the tips of my toes and the crown of my head. Distantly, I heard myself scream with pleasure. I felt myself shoot clear cum all over my dress and stomach. I felt my anus clench around the cock inside of me, and I felt the man’s cum shoot into me, warm and wet.

Finally, when the orgasm was beginning to subside and my muscles relaxed, I felt him draw out his cock. “Harold, would you fetch me a washcloth?” he said.

I felt Miss Orwell’s hand on my back. “You did amazing, sweetie. Why don’t you go upstairs and change into your pajamas. The rest of your night will be free time, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Thank you, Miss.” I said weakly.

I went up to bed, carrying my shoes in my gloved hands. As I cleaned myself up, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. What had just happened to me didn’t seem real, nothing in the past few days did. But I found myself smiling–I had obeyed Miss Orwell to a tee, and I was sure that I was going to be rewarded greatly.

I went to bed, scrolling on my phone for a while before I fell asleep.

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