The Serf

Again he stutters but quickly says he does. "serf, be a good whore and show him my pussy."

"Yes, my Queen," Joyce says. There's no reluctance or unhappiness in her voice, either. She rises as Zach's hand comes away from her breast. On her feet, she turns her bottom to Zach, putting it less than a foot from his face. She parts her feet wide and leans over, putting her back flat. And then she reaches around her thighs and pulls her lips wide apart to fully bare her pinkness, her hard little clit, her sopping wetness, and her tunnel to him. "Here is my Queen's pussy, Sir. Thank you for allowing this worthless peasant to display it for you, Sir. I apologize for its sloppy wetness, Sir."

Zach's eyes seem to pop out of his head. And lock on the pussy so shameless and close before his eyes. I'm fairly confident he's seen at least once before, probably just as up close and personal, but I doubt a woman who didn't have a clue who he was, has ever let him see hers. I doubt even his girlfriend(s) have so wantonly displayed theirs for him either.

Beside Zach, Andrea glances over at the pussy. "Oh, that is so skanky sloppy! What a whore!" But she says it with a grin. "You'll have your hands full with this serf, just to keep it from skanking up everywhere. And slutting around just any old gutter!" She points at Joyce's clit, the hard swollen little nub peeking it's tip up from the top of her wrinkled folds of purple. "See there, how this whore is so stiff? That tells you this whore is being such a slut right now! Just begging for her Queen to use that little skank pit!"

I'm sure Zach has used those same words to describe a pussy before. And a girl. But the look on his face tells me he's never heard them used openly in the presence of that girl! And never imagined a girl wouldn't be slapping someone how described her like that.

"Serf, be a good whore. She the other my pussy as well."

"Yes, my Queen." Joyce answers. She straightens up, moves to Andrea, next closest to her, and kneels. She humbly asks "may this filthy peasant whore please be allowed to show you my Queen's pussy, Ma'am?" Andrea allows her, and Joyce displays her pussy. After about a quarter minute, Andrea tells her she's seen enough of "that obscene skankiness," and Joyce moves over to the pilot. He helps himself to a much longer and more thorough inspection of her pussy before telling her she can move along.

So far Janelle has been rather reserved and watching her words to avoid anything that would definitely say one way or the other whether or not she plays herself. I assume that's because her companion doesn't know for sure, and she's making certain that he won't be able to confirm or rebut, any rumors about her. I'm a little, but only a little, surprised when she tells her companion, who has been showing a strong interest in Joyce's training, to "ask our hostess if you want to see, or touch, anything. I'm sure she's taught this disgusting tramp a few postures... if you have a favorite way to see a whore, that is."

He turns to me and asks "I wouldn't mind seeing it on all fours. I'll bet those breasts hang down..." I tell him to just tell it what he wants it to do. "Serf... on your hands and knees."

"As you say, my Lord," Joyce replies almost eagerly. She gets down on all fours, her side to him, her back flat, and her arms up and out so as not to hinder his view under her chest. She stays there, still and quiet, awaiting her next command.

He ogles her breasts for a long minute, seeing them hanging, but still, their rounded melons rising off her chest, and her hard nipples standing straight down. And very obvious from the side. Zach leans a little to get a better view of those breasts, but I see him checking out her rounded taut bottom as well.

When they've had their fill of seeing Joyce's body, I send her to fetch us all a fresh cup of coffee, which is also served humbly. As soon as Sophie has her cup, I tell Joyce to get back on her hands and knees, "I need a footstool." Joyce gets down quickly, kneeling in front of my recliner. She chooses to kneel facing Janelle's companion on the love seat. That gives him an excellent view of her dangling breasts from the front, under her shoulders. And it puts her bottom towards Zach, and that's clearly the part of her that most interests him. I lift my feet up and rest them on her back. She doesn't even show it, just kneels, looking forward, still and so patient.

We all talk for a while. I answer a bunch of questions from the men, all of them centered around how I got Joyce to behave so well, and if there are limits on what she'll do. "Of course not! I own it. It does whatever I wish it to. But it also knows that even though I couldn't care less what it likes and doesn't, I'd never injure it... Just use it to amuse myself."

Janelle's friend asks about finding "one like it" and asks how I go about it. Have I ever tried any of the online sites? I tell him that from what I've seen of those, they're limited to the truly desperate and I've never seen any quality there. I tell him that all of my toys have come to me through referrals from those I know who are into this lifestyle, or at least know that I am. Except for Joyce whom I just "tripped over in that club."

"If you're interested in exploring yourself, I'd suggest first borrowing a toy and trying a bunch of things until you know exactly what you like and don't. And learn, or invent your own, postures, and commands. That way, once you find something, you can teach it those and it will always know what you expect of it. It's very important that a slave always know exactly what's expected of it, and that you only expect what it's capable of giving. Sure, push the envelope all you want, but never ask for anything it can't deliver. And when it fails you, as these utterly worthless wastes of DNA inevitably do, discipline it firmly and swiftly. It has to know that obedience isn't an option in your kingdom. Oh, and it's up to you to teach it how you want things done...

"Here's an example. A blow job. I think we all know you men just love those. You might tell it to 'suck cock' the first time, which will let you see what it knows and doesn't. But after that, you teach it to suck it the way you best enjoy it. Don't worry about it, its comfort, if it gags. Who cares? Just make it do what you want, and discipline it when it falls even a hair short of it's very best.

"This serf couldn't suck worth a hoot when I found it. I mean it was so bad at it that it would have embarrassed me to let anyone see it's performance. They'd think I was a lousy queen to let my peasant whores be such prudish things. As if they were actual people. But I taught it how to be a real gutter whore. After all, that's where peasant serfs end up when they come to the big castle, isn't it? Tricking in the gutter for their bread!" I grin wide. "I'll show you how well I've taught it to suck. Would any of you care to volunteer a cock for the sucking?"

All three men look very surprised. All three are smiling, and look to be eager to volunteer. Andrea's pilot suggests "shall we allow Zach here the honor?" I think he's being polite. Zach has been very eagerly eyeing Joyce non-stop. Janelle's friend says nothing, but he doesn't speak up either. At least not in the second it takes Zach to say, "I will."

I lift my feet of Joyce's back. Despite having been there for around 45 minutes, she never moved. Just so obediently stayed put while I used her for furniture. If she keeps behaving so well, I'll have to reward her yet again tonight. And I'm getting a very nice idea of what her reward might be! "serf, go be a good whore and suck his cock."

"Yes, my Queen," Joyce says quickly with a hint of eagerness in her voice. Enough of a hint that I know she misses having a cock in her life. Then again, she's definitely heterosexual, so I think she'd be even happier serving a king, or a queen who used her as a whore, at least if she was well treated there. Then again, I'd never send her anywhere she wouldn't be treated at least as well as she is here.

Joyce gets up, turns, and kneels close before Zach. She looks him in the eyes and humbly asks "Sir, my queen wishes to give you the gift of a blow job. May this filthy gutter whore please be allowed to touch you and swallow your cock, Sir?"

Zach is left speechless. He just nods. Joyce unzips his pants and frees his cock. Everyone sees it spring to full attention, strutting it's 5 ¾" length proudly as it stands up. Joyce puts her hands behind her back. Then lowers her mouth to his cock. She plants a kiss on its tip, leaving her lips atop its deep-purple bulbous head. She slowly starts lowering her mouth, her lips stretching wide apart as the cock slides into her mouth.

Everyone watches with interest. Andrea and Janelle a more professional interest. Both know what I've taught Joyce and only look to see how well she's learned the technique. Especially since this is likely the first real cock I've allowed her to practice on. It's not like I have one that's not latex! The men also appear eager to see what she can do, but more with some curiosity to see if she can be sluttier, and thus better, than whatever they've known before. Surely cops and pilots get their fair share of blow jobs! Especially pilots; according to Andrea there's always one slut on every crew, or so it seems.

Joyce keeps going, the cock steadily inching its way into her mouth. Her head lowers slowly, unhurried, without ever hesitating as more and more of his shaft slides into her. And keeps going, even as the tip of his hardness presses against the tight entrance of her throat. She doesn't gag, at least not so anyone can notice it, just keeps slipping his shaft into her. Until every millimeter of his cock is inside and her lips are snug against his pubes and balls.

Joyce's performance catches everyone's eyes. Janelle and Andrea know I teach my toys to suck like this: leisurely and deep-throat. They know I use a "training cock," a strap-on dildo, that's larger and thicker than any real cock they're likely to encounter, so that whatever real one they service, it'll be smaller and easier, allowing them to focus more on what they're doing and less on the choking sensation in their throats. But the men don't know that. They watch with open disbelief and admiration. They are such men! It's written all over their faces that a blow job like this is a dream to them, one they never thought women really could, or at least weren't willing, to give. The domain of porn starlets and maybe outrageously-priced prostitutes. Their faces say they wish they hadn't been so accommodating and allowed Zach the pleasure of volunteering.

Joyce tunes out everything around her. She moves steadily, her casual strokes taking the entire shaft into her mouth each time, before reversing and rising up until only the top half of its swollen head is left between her lips. Sucking his entire length. Her hands stay behind her back. Nothing but her lips ever touches his cock.

Zach sits. But not still. It takes only about two of those strokes to get his butt squirming into the sofa. A few more and his hands are gripping the cushion and he groans shameless purrs of utter delight. And he watches, keeping his eyes open and down, taking in every bit of Joyce's ministrations. His squirms quickly intensify.

Like most men, especially those who've been without some "feminine attention" for a week or two (or much longer), he doesn't last long. Around three minutes, maybe four at the most. It says just how eager his cock was: Joyce was taught a leisurely technique so as to drag out the blow job to allow the man to enjoy the pleasure of the sucking for as long as possible. And she's performing well.

Zach cums without thrusting his hips, but they do wiggle crisply. He grunts a deep primal satisfaction, too. Then he purrs some very deep and happy moans as she keeps going, sucking every drop of cum from the shaft twitching sharply in her mouth. Zach stills as his cock runs dry and stops spurting. Joyce takes one last stroke, this time pressing her tongue firmly along the underside of his shaft and milking the very dregs of his cream from it.

She allows it to slip from her mouth. Joyce straightens to look up at Zach. She licks her lips. "Thank you so much, kind Sir, for allowing this disgusting peasant whore the privilege of swallowing such delicious cum, my Lord." Only then do her hands move to tuck his slowly softening shaft back into his pants and zip them back up for him.

"Don't be a lazy whore, serf." I say firmly, but not unkindly, "make your queen some money, whore. There are two more men here, perhaps if you beg they might allow you to service them."

"Yes, my Queen," Joyce says sweetly. She rises, steps sideways to the pilot next to Andrea, and kneels. She begs, shamelessly, stopping only when he agrees. With a wide smile on her face, she thanks him for allowing her to "serve her Queen as a proper peasant whore." Then she sucks his cock just as leisurely, and pleasurably, as Zach's. Once she's finished with him, Janelle's deputy friend, and his 6 ½" thick inches, gets its blow job, which leaves a wide grin on his face. And Janelle saying "And now I have a great locker room story!" He doesn't seem to mind that. Then again, knowing the way men think, he's probably glad to have a witness, especially a female witness, to a blow job he figures few other men will believe. Or rather believe the near-mythical skill level of as he boasts about it. And he will boast. Men are like that.

Once she's finished with all three, she kneels facing me and waits patiently for her instructions.

I send her to fetch the hors oeuvres Sophie has ready in the oven. And then I have her serve them to my guests. She serves each guest properly, kneeling, and holding out the platter while asking if she may make them a plate of something. Once a guest makes his or her selection, Joyce remains on her knees, setting the platter on the coffee table, uses a pair of tongs to make the plate exactly as requested, then offers the plate atop her palms. And then she moves along to the next guest. Then fetches a round of tea for everyone except herself. Serving wenches, especially filthy little serfs, never eat at the queen's table. Or even in Her presence.

As my guests sample Sophie's exquisite creations, I have Joyce parade around and basically flaunt her naked body for the amusement of my male guests, ensure each has a nice view of everything she has. It's not exactly dinner theater, but my realm it'll do. Besides, I think the male guests prefer the slutty show.

I ignore Joyce's show or rather pretend to. I keep a corner of an eye on her to make sure she's being absolutely immodest in entertaining my guests. But mostly we all chat away. The men have more questions, mostly about how I taught Joyce that wonderful skill. Andrea's pilot asks if I "give private lessons" to wives and girlfriends "on the topic." I almost laugh, hold that in and tell him I don't. I only teach those who worship and serve "their true Queen." I think he looks disappointed enough that I suspect he has a girlfriend, or probably a wife, somewhere he wishes would learn that skill.

Janelle asks what I intend to do with Joyce.

"I haven't decided yet," I answer honestly. "While I could certainly find some use for another cheap whore in the Queendom, it is just awfully skanky and worthless to keep hanging around here. I mean, seriously, I'd have to buy another cage just to keep it from roaming free and skanking up just everything! I thought about selling it, but who'd pay for anything so disgusting? I'd end up having to pay someone just to take it. And it's not like I can just kick it to the gutter -- I'd have to write myself a ticket for littering! We do have laws against leaving filth in the gutters."

Janelle smiles, knowing I'd said it that way for Joyce to hear. I'm sure she suspects that Joyce doesn't mind one iota about spending every second she's not serving me in a cage. Which she doesn't. She and Andrea understand that "sell" just means find her a new owner. No one really sells people anymore, at least not for like 150 years in this country. Her new owner might repay for the fair value of whatever items I send with her, but that would be all. "Kick her to the gutter," of course means send her packing, dump her, exile her from my realm. Between the lines, I've told them I have a few ideas of how I could benefit from keeping Joyce around. I doubt Joyce picked up on that, and I'm certain the male guests haven't. While I didn't plan it, I didn't even know who my friends would bring, all three of these guys are curious, and uninitiated in the ways of D/s. They haven't a clue about our "slang."

But Janelle does, and she loves to play along. "Yeah, I figured no one would want it. I mean, I did meet its last owner. What a creep! Talk about the bottom of the barrel, I doubt that guy could even get a date! And you should have seen his 'castle.' Put that in quotes. It was the quintessential trailer in the stereotypical trailer park. Which of course makes him trailer park trash! It would have been better off owned by some homeless guy in a tent."

I see Joyce smirk. She quickly turns her backside, ostensibly to flaunt her bottom, but really to hide the smirk. Clearly she agrees with Janelle. That serf really must have no self-respect to have gone with such a cretin.

As the evening winds down, around 10:00 pm, I decide on one final show for the boys. After all, Joyce does deserve her reward tonight. I'm sure these guys won't mind seeing her sluttiness. I send Sophie to fetch me a somewhat small vibrator, one that's about 6" long and a mere inch-thick. It's also one that's shaped like a bullet. Sophie fetches it for me with her typical sly grin. Sophie has been around long enough to guess what I'm thinking.

Sophie kneels and offers the toy to me. Instead of taking it, I ask the guests "would one of you care to assist me in preparing this whore for the final acts of its slut show?"

All three of the guys glance briefly at the toy, no more than the briefest of fleeting glances, then all smile and say they will. I send Sophie to Zach and tell her to give the toy to him. I figure he'll appreciate the chance the most. Sophie offers it to him, and without knowing what it's for, he takes it.

"Serf, I wish that toy stuffed up your dirty butt. Go beg."

"Yes, my Queen," Joyce answers, her voice still honeyed and not laced with any distaste for the idea. She kneels in front of Zach and begs him, shamelessly, and ceaselessly until he tells her to stop, to "please, my Lord, please shove that toy up this worthless peasant whore's filthy little butt." Zach listens, his eyes wide, as I imagine that he's not believing his ears. Finally he tells her "sure." And Joyce thanks him profusely for undertaking such a hideous task as to go near her disgusting butt.

I lean over and whisper to Zach what to do. That's the other reason I chose him, he's the one close enough for me to whisper to. Which means Joyce doesn't get to hear what I tell him. And doesn't hear me give him very detailed instructions so he does it the right way. I wouldn't want this inexperienced boy to hurt my serf.

"whore, show me your pussy," Zach tells her.

Joyce immediately stands and leans over with her bottom to him, spreading her lips wide. Even from where I am I can see that her pussy is nearly dripping it's so wet. She stands still as Zach eases the toy into her pussy. She purrs lightly and sweetly, too. One stroke of the toy in her pussy is all it takes for it to have a good coat of her slippery honey clinging to the top four or five inches of its length.

"now show me your butt, whore," Zach commands.

"Yes, my Lord." Joyce seems to have really taken to the medieval vernacular. As if it's not the first time she's addressed people so formally, so old-fashioned. She lets go of her lips and spreads her cheeks wide, stretching the small ring of her asshole out as she fully bares it. Then she waits patiently, standing still as if this doesn't bother her.