Episode 7: Dinner Party

Copyright© 2003 by Robin Neal

Sex Story: Episode 7: Dinner Party - Young, gorgeous and angry, Pet finds herself under lock and key at the House, a fabulous all-female institution that's part girls' school, part prison, part corporation and part brothel. Includes synopsis. In Episode 10, Pet isn't allowed much time to recover from her secret liaison with her mystery lover. Her Lady arrives to take her pleasure, and she isn't in a gentle mood.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Romantic   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Lesbian   BDSM   DomSub   Spanking   Light Bond   Humiliation   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Exhibitionism   Slow  

I was lying on my bed reading a few minutes later when Vivian came in. "Good afternoon, Miss Pet," she said tentatively as she headed for the bathroom. I had been nastier to her, if anything, than I had been to Lucy. She was understandably wary of me. I had actually tried to hit her once during a tantrum over a bath I didn't want to take. The punishment Cissy gave me for that one had lasted all night. I didn't want to think about it.

"Hi, Vivian," I said lazily. I was still wiped out from my experience in the bathroom. I hoped I hadn't left any evidence. My jumper and other clothes were in the hamper, and I had washed up and even wiped the sticky toilet seat. Now I had on a silk night dress, the first thing I had found in the nearest drawer, and no panties, although Vivian couldn't see that and would probably have said something if she knew.

Our maids, always ridiculously proper, seemed to have kind of a thing about panties. I mean, I used to go without them all the time, and it didn't seem like such a big deal to me. But if Lucy or Vivian ever found me without any, even just in my room, they would get this pained look like I was being just terribly naughty and get out a pair and hand them to me, and then stand there expectantly. Sometimes that would trigger one of my fits and I'd start really acting up, but I'd usually just bitch and whine and go ahead and put them on. At least I had some say in the kind of panties I wore. I'd never had the thong kind before coming to the House, but now that I had tried them I liked them. One reason was that they just seemed more comfortable, but mainly I had gotten used to them because I was punished so often and one of the House's most common punishments was spanking or switching. When you have a serious set of fresh welts across your bottom, backless underwear is definitely a plus.

Some of my outfits, though, weren't designed to be worn with panties, and in that case my maids seemed to see nothing wrong with it at all, which I found irritating. Why was it arbitrarily okay SOMETIMES? Finally, with Cissy backing them, they had mostly worn me down, since it seemed so damned crucial to everyone. But occasionally I still liked to invent sneaky ways of going without, just to be perverse.

Vivian finished whatever she was doing in the bathroom and came out and started to straighten up. The first thing she did was close the drawer I had left open and pick up my uniform pumps from where they had landed. She looked at them critically and set them aside to be polished. Oops. Oh well.

I was starting to get hungry and I sat up, my legs dangling over the edge of my bed, and put down my book. "How are you this afternoon, Vivian?" I offered.

She looked like she thought it was a trick question. "Very well, Miss Pet," she said. She looked at me curiously, keeping her distance. "Did you enjoy the pool?"

"Yeah, it was kind of fun. Did you talk to Lucy?"

"Yes, Miss, she said you were feeling well today. She seemed very happy for you."

"I guess I am feeling well, Vivian. When's dinner?"

"Dinner is at six, Miss," she replied. "You..." A little hesitation. "... will be joining Mademoiselle and two guests in Mademoiselle's suite." She paused, waiting for me to start kicking up a fuss.

"Really?" This was kind of interesting. "Not in the Dining Hall? What guests?"

"Mademoiselle Shannon and one of her girls, I believe, Miss. Mademoiselle Cissy sent an invitation this afternoon."


"That sounds neat, Vivian! Is it time to get ready yet?" I was actually getting excited. Vivian eyed me suspiciously.

"I think you can start any time, Miss Pet," she said slowly. "I should do Miss Janice's room, then I could come back and help you if you would like to shower now." I almost laughed. Poor Vivian, she was probably wondering if I was an impostor. There had been times when my first reaction to being told to dress for dinner would be to look for an object to throw. Preferably a breakable object, and preferably at Vivian. She was a soft, rounded blonde with bangs and ruddy cheeks, and she was very professional but lacked Lucy's perfect control. I felt sorry for mistreating her, but couldn't resist the wickedness of teasing her either. She was just so... teasable!

"Okay, thanks, Vivian," I said sweetly. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Very good, Miss Pet." Vivian curtsied in a distracted way and turned toward the door.

"Oh, Vivian?" I stopped her at the door and she turned back, spooked. She almost ducked.

"Yes, Miss Pet?"

"You look very nice this afternoon."

She stared at me for about five seconds while I beamed at her like a cherub, then closed her mouth and said, "Thank you, Miss Pet," in a totally confused tone, curtsied again and turned and went on about her business with her head cocked at an odd angle. I thought she was going to walk into the wall. I was messing with her SO seriously. Oh, Pet, how can you be so bad? I got the giggles, bouncing up and down on my bed, then caught myself and jumped in the shower. Dinner with Cissy and Nicole and her Lady. Hmmm! I wondered what we were having. Just days ago, I had hated every minute of my life at the House. Weird. Very weird.

I got out of the shower, brushed my teeth ( again! ) and dried myself and did my own lotion. Vivian still wasn't back. I felt between my legs critically. Uh-oh. I got out the baby oil and the slim little razor. I was tempted to do it myself, but it was really hard for me and I didn't want to do a bad job. I compromised by shaving the rest of me and waiting for help with the delicate part. When Vivian showed up, she took over in a totally professional way. I could tell she was still amazed by how cooperative I was, but I had never given her any trouble during this particular ritual. There's something about having someone hold a razor blade against your clitoris that makes you want to cooperate with them. I stood in the shower and bent over, facing away from her, legs wide. When she was about halfway done, I couldn't resist. I whispered "Vivian!" and looked at her upside-down, between my boobs, and winked. She gasped, then when she realized she was being teased she went back to her task with a pained expression. She was done in a jiffy, and rinsed and toweled me dry.

"Thanks, Vivian," I said cheerfully, straightening up and stepping out of the shower. "I can powder myself. What do you think I should wear?"

"You're welcome, Miss. Actually, Mademoiselle sent something." She hesitated. "Ah... would you like to see it?" She was really careful, even though I was behaving so well. I had once grabbed a dinner dress and ripped it, and she hadn't forgotten.

"Sure!" I said. I stopped at the closet, wrapped in a big fluffy towel, and stepped into a pair of casual cork-soled mules that I sometimes wore. I slid the closet door open all the way and looked in. "Where is it?"

"Here, Miss Pet." It was on a hanger behind my door. I sat on my bed and she pulled off the plastic and held it up for me to see. It was a long, simple-looking sweep of sheer white silk with spaghetti straps, but it sparkled somehow. It was hard to tell more than that on the hanger, but it looked very expensive. Vivian showed me that it had matching shoes, cutaway dress pumps with slim straps and a very severe arch.

"Beautiful!" I said. "Wow, look at those heels. I hope dinner's not a buffet!"

Vivian put the dress back behind the door. "I trust not, Miss," she said, perfectly serious. I couldn't help snickering, but then I smiled at her fondly.

"Come on, Vivian, this is fun! How should we do my hair? Cissy must want this to be a special occasion. I wish we could ask Lucy."

For the first time, Vivian visibly brightened. "Would you like to, Miss Pet? I believe she's still in the maids' lounge. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Cool!" I enthused. "Go ask her, quick! Um, Vivian?" as she turned to go. "Tell her I said please?"

Vivian curtsied and left, totally bemused. That poor girl was going to need therapy if I kept it up.

For the next hour and a half, Lucy and Vivian and I experimented and giggled like schoolgirls. Vivian was much more relaxed when Lucy was with us. It was without a doubt the happiest I had been since I'd come to the House, and when we were done I stepped in front of my full-length mirror.

Oh. My. God.

It had looked simple on the hanger. On me it was right out of a dream. A wet dream. The dress clung like a lover, tight in all the right places. It held my boobs up and together, creating huge cleavage. It scooped down almost to the areolae. It showed slightly outrageous nipple outline. It plunged in the back almost too far, but not quite. It tucked up tight right under my butt, then swept down to the floor, the hem slightly scalloped. A drastic slit showed my right leg to the hip when I moved. It was creamy white with little flecks of dark gold all through it, and it sparkled even if I just stood there and breathed. Underwear was NOT an option.

I had simply never seen anything like it, and I said "Oh..." to the mirror in a very faint and dreamy voice. I thought I might cry. Lucy and Vivian stood behind me, arms around each other, and looked ready to cry with me.

It was a good thing I didn't start bawling, because I would have wrecked a classic makeup job. Both Vivian and Lucy would easily have qualified for just about any salon in the world. All our maids were like that. Lucy, though, had a special touch. She had taken the fresh blush of my day in the sun and accented it perfectly. Huge, luminous emerald eyes, ripe-peach lips and nails, and angel skin hypnotized me when I looked in the mirror. My shiny copper hair was up in a natural but elegant sweep, with a little relaxed curl artistically bothering one cheek. I stepped up close to the mirror, dropped my lashes coquettishly, and practically fell in love with myself, half drunk on my own musky perfume.

I turned around and looked at my new friends. I had no idea what to say, and they knew it. I think my face said enough, at least I hope so. I would never, ever forget this moment, even if it was just a dinner party. At last, I knew what to do. I put one foot behind the other and dropped them a deep curtsy, my eyes on the floor in honest humility. Vivian lost it. She gasped and buried her face against Lucy's shoulder. Lucy kept her proud smile, a sisterly arm around Vivian, but her eyes were sparkling with tears.

A knock on the door broke the mood, fortunately. Vivian answered it, wiping her eyes, as Lucy bustled around cleaning up and I started putting things in my little bag. It was one of the duty Trainers, a darkly tan Oriental beauty with china doll hair and boots. She asked Vivian formally if I was in, and then as I came to attention she presented Mademoiselle Cissy's compliments and told me I was expected for dinner. Was it my imagination, or did she pause a second when she saw me? If so, she hid it well, her lovely face imperiously serene. I thanked Vivian and Lucy again and stepped out into the hall. The Lady offered me her arm, and I took it. I was on my way.

Cissy's apartment was directly below my room. The residence wings of the House were organized that way, each Lady living in a suite on either the ground floor or the third floor. The second floor ( mine ) and the fourth floor were divided into individual rooms for the girls. Each Trainer had rooms for three girls, although not all of them had three girls assigned at a given time. Cissy had one other girl, my neighbor Janice. She was a pretty ( of course ) blonde, slim and willowy, a year or so older than me. I saw her sometimes, on the way to class or something, and she seemed nice although she was as wary of my moods as everyone else was. We could never talk about Cissy, it wasn't allowed. Cissy never mentioned her name in my presence. I took it that this was customary, and presumed that Cissy spent as much time with Janice as with me, but I really had no idea.

I managed to get down the big curving staircase in one piece, and in the east foyer we turned down the hall toward Cissy's. I had been this way many times. Now I was trying to be really graceful and poised, but I could remember nights when I had been literally dragged along this hall by two Trainers, cruelly restrained and on my way to be punished. My memories of those times were dark and confused, and I pushed them away with a promise to myself that I would do better starting now. It wasn't that hard, all I really had to do was WANT to be a part of the House and everything made sense. Unfair? Maybe, but was life fair in the outside world?

I was still trying to deal with some very confused feelings about Cissy, though. I definitely felt different about her since the incident in my room a few days earlier and especially since my night out. I was beginning to realize that I hadn't really understood her or how she felt about me. I still wasn't sure I understood. Just because I was changing didn't mean she was going to. Would she still be mean and demanding and unsympathetic toward me all the time? I really couldn't imagine her suddenly starting to act sweet and friendly, she just wasn't that kind of person. And it was her job to train me. But couldn't she at least be fair? So much of my life was about Cissy. If we could just reach some kind of understanding, maybe the House could actually be bearable. Maybe it could be even nicer than bearable?

We stopped at Cissy's door. Her name was on a shining brass plate with a little 9 next to it, representing her years as a Lady of the House. My escort knocked, and Cissy's personal maid opened the door. I was introduced and released, and stepped inside, remembering to say, "Thank you, Mademoiselle" to the Lady as she left. She nodded.

I stood at attention, my purse in both hands behind my bottom, inside the door of Cissy's parlor as her maid went to get her. I stole a quick look in the wall mirror to my left, desperate to look as good as possible. Fortunately nothing had come undone. Cissy's suite was decorated in a Continental style with understated taste, beiges and pastels with black and gold accents. I could smell dinner. Yummy, I was starving by now.

Cissy came in, a vision of a Russian Tsarina as always, aristocratic and cool. She wore burgundy and black, her tall, elegant body enhanced rather than revealed by her tight knee-length skirt, dark stockings and Bolero jacket. A single ruby shone in a bunch of lace at her throat. Her deep brown eyes were serene, faintly amused. She showed absolutely none of the effects from my appearance that the others had. She crossed the room to me and looked me up and down calmly.

"You look very nice, Pet. Please come into the dining room," she said in her musical contralto. Every time she talked, you always thought she had a European accent until she finished and you realized she didn't.

"Thank you, Cissy," I answered and followed her. I was trying to be graceful and sexy and grateful and charming and dutiful and God knew what else, and I had no idea if I was succeeding. Cissy did this to me every time. How could she be SO in control of everything when she hardly ever DID anything? To me, she seemed magical even at the times I hated her most.

Mademoiselle Shannon had already arrived, and I had been right about her bringing Nicole. They both looked great. Shannon was a rather small but well-proportioned redhead with piercing gray eyes and a look of authority, dressed in white silk slacks and a black leather single-breasted jacket. Her movements were quick, energetic and efficient. Everything about her said "No nonsense!" and she had an unusual bracelet, a plain ring of stainless steel polished so bright it almost hurt the eyes. It was far too tight to slip over her hand, and I realized that it must have been welded on. Ouch! Nicole was dressed in an openly erotic style, a painted-on pair of calf-length sheer white tights that laced at the sides and allowed no underwear and no pubic hair, white pumps, and a very sheer gauzy sleeveless white top that tied and left her darkly tanned midriff bare. She looked like anyone could strip her nude in about one second with one hand. Her big nipple rings were obvious under her top. There was a pearl in her navel.

Cissy introduced me, and Shannon's reaction was gratifying. Her eyes said "Wow!" at the same time that her lips said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pet." And this was a Lady! I tried hard to remain demure. Nicole and I exchanged smiles but did not speak, since neither of us had been asked a question. Cissy's maid handed me a slim glass with a little champagne in it and I sipped. As dinner was being set by the personal maid and the night maid, Cissy and Shannon chatted on the other side of the room. The sun was low over the garden outside the French windows. Nicole and I stood at the elbows of our respective Ladies and looked attentive. The conversation was no big deal, at least the part of it I understood. It had to do with acquisitions and programs or something. When dinner was served, I was totally ready.

Cissy seated me and Shannon seated Nicole, across from each other at the round dining table. We said our Thank You's and sat with our hands in our laps. Cissy waited until her guest was settled, then pivoted elegantly into her chair and asked her maid to serve appetizers and pour wine. I got about half an inch of white wine, but it was good.

There were a lot of forks and glasses and stuff to manage, and one did NOT want to make a mistake at Cissy's table, but Nicole and I kept it together okay. All those hours with Mademoiselle Celine in Etiquette Class were paying off. During dinner, Cissy and Shannon continued to chat, except they occasionally asked one of us a question. None of the questions made any difference, they were just to allow us to be part of the conversation, and to make sure we were paying attention. The topics ranged from the groundskeeping at the House to the upcoming Olympics, and I got the impression that Cissy and Shannon were actually friends, not just acquaintances. They were very at ease with one another. It made the atmosphere more comfortable and I enjoyed dinner a lot. For one thing, it was delicious, although the portions I got, as always, were disappointingly small. Cissy had chosen them in advance with my weight in mind. I wound up getting enough, but Nicole looked wistfully after the maids when the last course was cleared. I had learned a trick that I promised myself I would share with her when we had a real chance to talk. I drank a lot of water with dinner, since I could have all I wanted without asking. As soon as the level in my goblet went down, the maid filled it up. I made sure I drank often and got full faster, and it also gave me something to do.

While dessert was being prepared, some tiny, delightful thing that was served flaming, the conversation turned to classes, and Shannon brought up the incident in Cosmetics that afternoon. She didn't know I had been there, and asked Cissy if she had heard any more about it. It seemed that Mademoiselle Kelly was more upset than she had let on, and there were going to be repercussions of some sort.

Cissy turned to me. "Pet was there, weren't you, Pet?"

I dropped my eyes. "Yes, Cissy."

"Did Mademoiselle Kelly say anything about further punishment for the girl?"

"No, Cissy. She was still there when we were dismissed."

Shannon said, "That was so strange. Do you know if they found her book?"

"Yes, Celeste found it," Cissy answered. She hesitated, and I couldn't resist.

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