All You Can Eat, Sir
My kind and loving Master rewarded me with a special Holiday assignment. For my faithful, unwaivering service to his needs he allowed me to serve Thanksgiving Dinner to him and a group of his friends. I was to be in charge of every last detail of the meal… and the quality thereof. I couldn’t leave this to chance with catering so I decided to handle each and every detail myself and cook every last meal. My family thought I had gone insane, as I’ve been cooking since Last Sunday nonstop. I explained to my husband that a group of us Book Club Moms had decided to cook extra for Meals on Wheels this year. That seemed to satisfy his curiousity long enough.. he really just wanted to know whether or not I’d still be cooking Dinner for the family as well. Once he was reassured he wouldn’t be missing out on any goodies he left me alone.
And it’s a good thing, because I don’t know how I would otherwise have explained the erotic pastries my Master instructed me to bake and serve. I used to do alot of baking in college, as I had wanted to be a chef when I was younger. Somehow I settled for being a housewife and secret whore/painslut on the side. But I never lost my skills.
So when I presented my Master with a buffet of puddings and steamed asparagus and quiches and Goose Liver Pate and caviar and penis shaped sheetcakes and vagina-shaped white chocolate cupcakes… even my stoic Master was visibly impressed. This made me nearly wet my pants with relief and gratitude. i LOVE to please my Master more than anything. And his guests were impressed as well.
It shouldn’t have shocked me so that upon the arrival of the desert trays honored guests My Master then instructed me to strip naked and lay myself down on the table, face up, spread-eagled. I lay trembling with excitment but very still, as I was to be the centerpiece for the festivities. My Master casually yet carefully placed the pastries on my body. He lined cupcakes on my breasts and tummyand laid the penis cakes between my thighs, pointing towards my privates. Then he and a fellow Domme I recognized from play parties before laid out the rest of the hors-d’ouevres in a bouquet around my entire body on the table. After that I was instructed not to move or speak upon pain of punishment. The partygoers came to partake of the desserts, some of the men purposefully smearing icing over my body and licking it off… I wanted so badly to moan or cry out from the pleasure but I had to remain silent as I was commanded. By the time some of the men and women were helping themselves to the penis cakes between my legs there was a pool of my juices flowing steadily from my cunt. One of the doms noticed my excitement and inserted a whipped creamed finger inside of me, smeared it all over my clit and leaned down to lick it greedily from my hole. It was the hardest thing I ever did not to scream out or cry, but I succeeded.. much to my Master’s amazement. I didn’t move or flinch, except when the last of the food was gone and I flooded the table in a shuddering, silent orgasm.
Thank You Master!
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