Geordiesouth

I love this guys articles and this is one of my favourites.

The Restaurant
by geordiesouth

The restaurant had been booked for a private reception party. The manager had thought the requirements strange, but then the money that was changing hands more than made up for any suspicions he was having. Picture the scene. A room that could seat 80 comfortably. Three large tables in the centre, the more normal four seater tables surrounding these, with a collection of two (nobody wants to eat with me) at the edges.
She...sat on the edge. To say she was beautiful would have been insulting. She was eqcuisite. Long black hair pulled back in a pony tail reached to her lower back. Encased in the softest of mink coats. The only visible part of her anatomy were her legs, one crossed over the other. Long and slender. Sheer silk stockings. She sat sipping wine, watching everyone else in the room eat. Everyone else in the room being male. The waiters thought the evening peculiar. A set meal. Everyone eating the same three courses and no-one takeing any holy water. But why should they care, after all, the manager was paying them double time. All they had to do was serve the food in silence and after the last course had been laid, they were to leave the room. This they did.
I don�t think the chef would have been too pleased. It looked as if his clientele had not appreciated his culinary s*******s. Their appetites lost on other things maybe. She sat knowing how they all looked at her. She would occasionally look away so they could glance at her. She loved turning back quickly and staring at one unsuspecting specimen. The shock in his eyes for a moment as if caught with his hand in the till. His eyes dropping then closing.
But she was here for one reamister only. Directly opposite, on the other side of the room. Sat a man alone. He had attempted to eat his meal. He had wanted so much to be in control of what he knew was to follow. The tables were cleared by the waiters, they left and the lighting was dimmed. Silence.
An eternity. She stood, so gracefully the movement in itself was captivating. She walked towards the man sitting alone. Heads dropped and eyes lowered as she passed. She stood before the man that this evening was all about. Her coat fell to the floor and with a swift pull of a ribbon, her hair cascaded around her head. She wore a black rubber basque. Red piping accentuated her breasts. Her stockings held up by suspender straps, she wore no panties or knickers. He closed his eyes as if the vision of her would blind him. He felt her hands unzip him and release his manhood. He was fighting now. But not physically, no, this was a struggle internally. He wanted to cry but had sufficent strength to hold back the tears. He was excited, stiff, and the rubber went over him slowly. He opened his eyes and gazed at this most wonderful of creatures. Her smile, her smell. The sheer miracle of her was something he could never hope to comprehend. He gripped the chair legs as she slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing manhood. Her hands on his shoulders, she slowly, ever so slowly, moved up and down. The sensation rushed towards him as never before, he felt as if he would blackout. The room full of men looked on in silence. Some were visibly sweating. Shaking. Some wanted so much to touch themselves. She was laughing now, she could feel him shrink inside her. She stood and lifted his face up so he could look into her eyes. A smile, so sweet, so wonderful, it would live with him forever. Her finger ran down his nose and she was walking away. Her fur coat trailing after her over her shoulder. The room was silent. He cried now, the tears of a defeated man.
His mistress had told him he would suffer. He was arrogant enough to have had upset her. She promised him that he would pay the ultimate price. He would have what he craved. He would be granted the ultimate reward given to any slave. But he must prove to his mistress his control. If he could not prove he had self control, then he would never be allowed to see or visit his mistress again. His tears burnt his cheeks. Never had he felt so alone. Even in this room full of slaves he was alone. No-one came to offer him comfort.
She was at home now. She stood naked and she stretched her arms in the air and smiled at her reflection in the full length mirror. Sitting on her throne, she opened her legs. The young girl kneeled between those legs. Blindfolded. "What a wonderful evening" she said. "I do so love it when things go the way they should." Slowly she pulled the young girl's head forward. A nice way to end an evening.
stevensmiles