18 Master Ch. 15: The Fucking Dress

I don't know which I hated more, the dress or the Master. Master Donald. Master Asshole, though I'd never say that unless I wanted to sleep in my cage for a week. Which I don't – it gets cramped in there.

The dress was designed to leave nothing to the imagination. Crass. Clingy on my legs and ass, except where the slit went, up the back until it almost reached my butt crack, then just a band of fabric held together by a zipper, leading up to the deep-cut back. Clingy over my hips and waist – it took one person to hold the pieces together and another to zip it around my ass and belly. At my bustline it did a halter thing and tied around my neck. It was flesh colored, like that dress Marilyn Monroe wore to sing happy birthday. As scandalous as that dress was, this was worse. My gown was totally sheer. Like pantyhose sheer. You could see my butt crack, even through the strategically-placed crystals. There were other crystals at my nipples and crotch, but the swirling patterns of the crystals accentuated my nakedness rather than hiding it. What was most damning, though, is the crystals couldn't really hide the tattoo just above my pubic bone, the one with the number 18 on it, and 18 links in a chain. You couldn't see the whole tattoo, but if you even glanced there you could tell there was something under the beads.

I also had a tiny evening bag covered with matching crystals. It was just big enough for a lipstick and powder and a note that he'd made me kiss and put in the purse. The note said, "You can fuck me on the terrace" and then had my red, red lipstick mark.

Did I mention I loathed the dress?

Don't get me wrong! I'm an exhibitionist! I love going dogging with Master Nick and baring everything. On his nights with me, we take his convertible to a secluded park in the woods. He likes to dress me in thrift-store chic and then slice the clothes off me with a sharp knife, while everyone is watching. He fucks me on the hood of the car while the doggers wank off. Sometimes he lets them grope me, or even put their fingers in my cunt and ass. He makes me drive home totally naked. He carries a cape that he can throw over my shoulders just in case, because he only wants to expose me in an environment where someone would expect it, not like the elevator.

Not like some big medical dinner where he wants me there as his +1. His essentially naked +1.

Master Michael loves corsets. He's bought me four so far, underbust, overbust, latex, lace. I love them. He makes me grab onto the gym machine in the workout room while he laces me in, tighter and tighter. I love how it pushes my tits out and makes my waist impossibly small. Then he tightens it even more. He likes to hit me with a riding crop on my ass and tits while they are plumped by the corset. He takes me to the movies in corsets with short skirts and gropes me the whole time. He takes me to bars and watches guys lose their shit as they stare at my freakishly compacted cleavage. I love my corsets!

I did not love this dress. At least, not this kink-fest of a dress at a mundane business event. Sometimes being a slave sucks. Lately it felt like the bad sucky times were catching up with the good sucky times. Hmm.

We did the whole limo thing, though Master Donald didn't fuck me in the limo like most of my Masters when they had the chance. He just stared at his phone the whole time. I don't know if he even liked fucking. When he used me, it was typically on his way home from the hospital after delivering a baby. He'd stop by the office or by the apartment if I was off work. He always took me from behind. Perfunctory. He didn't talk much, and if he did it was usually to tell me how disgusting I was. A real charmer. At least on his nights to stay with me he didn't try to sleep with me. He'd just fuck me at night and go sleep in one of the spare bunks, then fuck me in the morning before he left. So this had all the makings of a long night.

We were dropped at one of those big city hotels, the ones that all manage to look alike and like they could be anywhere in the world, and we swept upstairs to a ballroom that could be any ballroom set for any big dinner.

It was May and still rainy, so I had my evening cape on until we got to the coat check near the ballroom. Everyone else was dressed in tuxes and lovely evening dresses. Some even had daring evening dresses. I really did not want to part with my cape! I looked longingly at the terrace off the ballroom lobby, figuring it would give me a reason to stay covered.

I could hear a gasp when swung the cape off. I heard someone in the coat check line mutter. "Don't look, Ethel!" I wasn't sure if there really was an Ethel or it was a nod to that old novelty song about the streaker. I thought about that line from that Bridget Fonda movie, "I never did mind about the little things." I surrendered my cape and held my head up. Master Donald took my arm and marched me into the hotel ballroom like a man on a mission.

He definitely had an agenda as he worked the crowd. He sidled us up to everyone even remotely in his radius. I could see them struggling not to let their eyes drift south, all the way south. To some people he introduced me as "his girl", but to others he actually said, "I'd like you to meet my sex slave" and watch as their eyes bugged out. I've been instructed, if anyone asks, to confirm that yes, I was in a Dom/sub relationship and it was completely consensual, I could leave at any time. I'd only had to use that stock answer once or twice before, but that night I had to use it a few times, always when Master Donald was distracted enough that someone could gain my ear without him hearing. One guy wanted to drag me out of there and to a battered women's shelter. In the months since I started this wild adventure, I'd never even considered anything like that, not until this fucking dinner. But I didn't want to lose all the parts I loved; I just wanted to get out of this awful train wrecked night.

Eventually the raison d'etre became clear for my attendance, and my skankwear. After about 20 minutes of being paraded through the ballroom, a gorgeous blonde walked up to our group. Somehow everyone melted away right after that, though not far enough to be out of earshot.

"Well, Donald, I hear you've managed to find someone deluded enough to agree to your kinky games."

Master Donald is definitely north of 40. I got the feeling the blonde was, too, but fighting it every step of the way. Her eyes and forehead were tight. Her lips looked plumped. Her hair was teased to hide the thinning. Still, she was pretty and looked fit. And having a fit.

"Sheila, to you, leaving the lights on is too kinky to bear. I see they managed to thaw you out enough to come tonight. Alone? Where's Sparky?"

"PARKER is at the bar getting me a drink. Some men know how to be gentlemen."

She eyed my drink-less hands pointedly. She looked at me like I'd just peed on the rug, and smelled like it, too.

"I'd say you have nerve bringing your slut here, wearing that, but we already know you're nothing but nerve. You're trying to embarrass me, but you're just embarrassing yourself. And her. There's nothing you can do tonight that's going to rattle me."

"Challenge accepted!" He grinned. I kept my face neutral so I wouldn't look like I wanted to slug him.

"Donald, I must have a word with you before dinner."

"You've already had too many, Sheila."

"And you still haven't signed the agreement."

"Because I don't agree with it. You can go fuck yourself. Or Sparky. I really don't care."

She looked pissed enough to carve trenches in the Botox, but she was interrupted by a totally hot guy bearing two drinks. He handed one to Shelia and took a healthy swig from his own. She downed half of hers in one shot.

"Donald! So glad you could come!"

"Sparky." Donald nodded, returning the greeting much less enthusiastically.

"Shelia and I had a bet if you'd show your face here again, after what happened last year. Guess I win!" He winked at me. Now I had two men I wanted to slug.

"I have lots to show this year, just wait."

"Oh, I don't have to wait, I can see pretty much everything you want to show right now!"

This last remark was directed at me as Parker checked out everything he could see under my dress. Which was, as we've established, everything. There's no point undressing someone with your eyes when the dress already does that for you.

"Yes, well, she begged me for this dress, and begged to be able to wear it tonight. You know me! I'll do anything to make a woman happy!"

"Anything except drop dead from flesh eating bacteria," said Sheila sweetly. "But I keep hoping! Don't worry, sweetie," she said to me. "I know the dress was his idea and you'd probably like to rip his heart out and dance on it right now. That would be fine by me."

I kept my mouth neutral but tried to at least thank her with my eyes.

"What can I say, she's SUCH an exhibitionist, if I gave her the word, she'd strip naked and suck the cock of every guy in the room."

Parker had taken a drink and had to work to keep it from spewing everywhere.

"Well that would be a sight, wouldn't it?" Parker said as he managed to stop choking.

"I'm dead serious, Sparky," said Donald. "Would you like to see?"

I tried to look as blank as I could.

"For God's sake, Parker, don't encourage him. He'd do it so fast her head would spin. Let's go."

Shelia stormed off, and Parker followed close behind, but he turned and gave me one more visual rape as he left.

Master Donald leaned in close.

"He's going to fuck you tonight. Let him. Let anyone who tries. Let them touch you. Kiss you. Anything they want. Encourage anything with a cock. That's an order."

I was nervous at this. My Masters often shared me around, but it was always clear that there were boundaries. Usually my Masters made sure that everyone was tested or used condoms, and I had no idea what Master Donald had in mind for that tonight. He'd given me a direct order. Including an order to encourage them. I sooo did not want to act like the slut I was dressed as, but I felt trapped.

Master Donald whisked me off to our table which, of course, unfortunately, was right next to Shelia and Parker. I couldn't see them without turning my head, but I was certain Parker could see me. On my right was a portly older man, steel gray hair and mustache, with that droopy-jowled look. On his right was a right proper blue haired matron, the kind who probably spent half her life in a church basement and the other half in the beauty salon, the kind with the big dome hair dryers. She was eyeing me like I was Satan incarnate, which I guess I was tonight.

I signed inwardly and set to flirting with Jowly Man as much as I dared. It didn't take much. He was already staring pretty blatantly at my cleavage. After a smile or two in his direction, he put his hand on my thigh. When I didn't resist, he went right for my cunt, getting his fingers in as far as the stretchy fabric would allow. When he tired of that, he started pinching my thigh, hard, daring me to cry out. When the salad plates were taken away, he managed to lean over and brush my right tit with his arm. During the main course, he showed off his new Rolex to Master Donald and managed to brush against my left tit as he brought his arm back. He put his hand on my shoulder, letting his fingers fiddle with the strings holding up my halter top. During dessert, he insisted on having me take a bite of his chocolate cake and managed to spill some on my cleavage. I thought he might flat out lick it off, but he just brushed it with a napkin that hid the fingers he trailed across my breast. In the dim light during the speeches he played with the zipper holding my dress together. He also groped my ass hard enough that I might have bruises, at least partly from him pressing those crystal beads into my skin.

Mrs. Jowly looked furious, but resigned, like she'd get home and yell at him and he'd just blame it on my whorish ways and keep doing the same thing next time.

Parker seemed to be enjoying the "grope the slave" show more than the speeches. Sheila studiously ignored everything except the speeches.

After the final applause, Master Donald leaned over to speak in my ear.

"Get the note to Parker."

He called out to Sheila.

"Shelia, a word before you go!"

"Just one? That will be a first."

"Oh, you'll like this word, Shelia."

He pulled her aside and said something too low for me to hear, but he was obviously giving me the opening I needed with Parker. I pretended to drop my purse, giving Parker a real eyeful as I bent down to fumble with the clasp and get the note out. He bent down to help, and help him see more, and I slipped the note to him.

"Thank you. It's so HARD to bend over in a dress like this. It took two people to zip me into it!"

I could see the lust in his eyes as he read the note. I gave what I hoped was a vixen smile, something that he'd read as encouraging but not too obvious. His hand crumpled the note.

"And how many will it take to zip you out of it?"

"Just one, but guess I'll be stuck in the buff until I get a team to dress me again."

He glanced out towards the terrace, obviously trying to figure out how to get me out there, when Master Donald came back from his aside with Sheila.

"Parker, I'm finally agreeing to the settlement Sheila wants. I hope you'll excuse us a minute while I have her sign the paperwork. I've arranged for a notary to meet us at the front desk. Could I prevail on you to entertain my sl– , I mean my date while we finish up that boring business?"

I could tell Sheila was torn between getting what was obviously a long-denied settlement and leaving Parker in my company, but she went for the settlement.

Parker went for the terrace, pulling me along behind him. Fortunately, it was a covered terrace, and there were propane heaters to keep away the chill. On our long summer nights, it would be lovely, but tonight there were only a few chairs and one table, a few men smoking cigars, and an empty bar.

"About that note," he said, staring pointedly at my cleavage. "Why on earth would you give me that note?"

"Because Master Donald told me to?" I said, making it a question. Because it was a question.

"'Master' Donald, huh? Are you really in some sort of kinky relationship with him?" He went on before I could give the standard reply. "I can't imagine any woman being with him who didn't have to. Would you really have stripped and sucked cock in that dining room?"

I'd been asking myself the same question. The understanding that I was to follow orders without question was based on the assumption that they wouldn't give me insane orders, like something that would get me arrested. But I figured at least here on the terrace we had enough privacy that I could afford to score the thing Donald obviously wanted. I also figured I should work fast.

"Of course!" I said, looking him in the eye. "I'm in a submissive relationship and he's my Dom. To be more accurate, it's a Master/slave relationship, though a lot of people take that the wrong way."

"How should I take it?"

"Well, for starters, yes, I would strip and suck anyone he told me to. And he told me to strip and suck you."

I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Just him, Sugar Tits, or anyone?"

It was Jowly. Fortunately, without Blue Hair. I turned a bit and forced a smile at him, spinning my brain to figure out what to do next.

"Because I could swear I overheard him tell you to fuck anything with a cock who wanted you tonight. Am I right?"

I hoped my smile hid my gritted teeth.

"Well, I am a sex slave, and my Master does enjoy sharing me. But this gentleman was first in line for my favors."

"Oh, I think I staked a prior claim at the dinner table. Look, I think I see my handprint on your ass!"

He reached around me and tugged down the zipper with one hand, and pulled the halter tie with the other, leaving me totally nude in less than a second. In the next second he spun me around and bent me over the table. Before I knew it, he was pumping into my cunt. Good thing I lube quickly. And fortunately, he was done almost as quickly. He didn't have a lot of spunk in him, but he came around the table and presented his cock for me to lick clean.

"Well?" I looked at Parker suggestively.

"Flip over," he ordered. "I want to play with your tits while I fuck you.

I obliged and boosted my ass up on the table, bending my knees and spreading my thighs to welcome him. In yet another burst of good fortune, it was a good height for him to slide right in. I grabbed my ankles while he brutally grabbed my tits and fucked me like it had been a year.

My good fortune ran out when I saw Sheila there on the terrace watching us. Her face was so smooth and expressionless it looked like she'd had Botox in every muscle.

Parker came, grunting a bit.

Master Donald looked smug. Sheila turned and left without a word.

"You got your money, Sheila. I hope it was worth this!" Master Donald called as she left.

Hearing Sheila's name, Parker came out of the post-coital blinders to look around just in time to see Sheila's well-toned backside head through the door into the lobby.

"Shit. Sheila!" he called, zipping himself and running after her.

"I'd say don't bother, but you won't listen," said Master Donald, watching him go.

Master Donald turned to Jowly.

"Nice work! Perfect timing."

"Happy to help," he smiled. "Especially with the fringe benefits."

"Would you like some more?" he asked, like he was offering another glass of sherry.

"No, no, I have to go find Helen so she can yell at me. It will be worth it, though."

"You can come over and fuck her some other time if you like."

"Are you really his sex slave?" he asked me, a bit wistfully.

Master Donald jumped in.

"Yes, yes she is. She'll do anything or anyone."

"How about us?" piped up one of the cigar smokers.

"Why sure! She loves a good gang bang!"

Jowly had obviously been in on it from the beginning. I didn't know about these other guys. Before I could try to think of a way to ask, Master Donald grabbed my hair and bent me forward at the waist. I didn't even get a look at the guy who shoved his dick into my mouth or see the one who came around to fuck me from behind. I guess others joined in, and they traded around a bit, but they all blew their loads pretty quickly.

The guys fucking me stopped and turned. I couldn't really turn my head, but I heard someone clear his throat.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to have to ask you to...Ah. Um."

Master Donald jumped right in.

"We'll finish up and be right out of here. Unless you'd like a taste first?"

There was a pause.

"Let me fuck her ass and I won't say a word about this to anyone."

"She loves being fucked in the ass! Don't you, slut?"

I smiled. What else could I do? I bent over the table again. He plunged my cunt a few times to lube up, and then reamed me in the ass, pumping harder and faster than I expected. He groaned pretty loud when he came. I was fervently praying he wouldn't attract more bystanders, but he pulled out quickly and quietly and went to hustle us on our way off the terrace.

There was a bit of a conundrum about the dress. It really did take two people who knew what they were doing to get me into it. Master Donald picked it up and glared at it, then did the only thing all night that made me happy – he chucked it in the garbage can by the bar.

The ass fucker took off his suit coat and offered it to me, then escorted us across the ballroom lobby and down the stairs as quickly as he could without drawing more attention. Master Donald insisted he wait until the limo pulled up so he could give back the jacket; I could tell he was torn between not wanting anything else to do with us and not wanting to lose his nice jacket. Even though he worked at a swanky place, I'm sure it wouldn't be cheap to replace.