Online Mistress and the Waiter

The weather had been fine for a few days and it promised to be a warm and sunny weekend. I felt high in spirits and felt like going out so I called my friend Susan and asked her if she fancied going out for a meal and catch-up, then maybe go and see a film afterwards. She thought this was a very good idea and we agreed to meet at 3:30 pm on Saturday at the restaurant.

 

We gave our order to the waitress and were just sipping our wine and chatting when my phone rang (I had forgotten to turn it off). Chuckling from Susan’s last comment I put the phone to my ear, then froze in stark terror. An ice cold voice at the end of the line said “Slave, you are required to serve your Mistress again,…..at once.” I was so stunned I couldn’t speak.

The last person I had expected to hear from at that moment was the Online Mistress. Caught completely by surprise I could only listen to the hypnotic voice calmly repeating instructions which I was expected to follow immediately. My horror mounted as she described an exclusive event to which she was attending that very evening and she required me there to be on hand as her personal waiter. My heart began to race the more she spoke as I realized I would had no choice but to obey, but what about my current situation.

 

Uncomfortably brought back to reality by Susan asking “Are you alright?”, I began to blubber out some vague protestations down the phone about being otherwise engaged, but these were met by a cool “…I am speaking, slave…” and the continuation of the instructions. “Who is it?” Asked Susan, who was by now rather perplexed by the look on my face and the sudden change in my manner from being relaxed and confident to seeming terrified and “hunted”.

 

It seemed like an eternity but I managed to keep myself from interrupting the Online Mistress until she had finished speaking. Then I tried to choke out the problem of my current situation to her as best I could with Susan sitting listening intently with rising consternation, and without giving too much information away. Of course if I expected any sympathy from the Online Mistress I was out of luck, and was met by a terse “That’s your problem slave, I expect you to deal with it and report as ordered. Remember I have an extensive selection of compromising photos of you which I am only too happy to release for general consumption via the internet, do I make myself clear? See you at 5 pm.” And I was left blubbering into a dead phone.

 

I held my head in my hands. “Oh, no” I groaned. Susan touched my arm. “Who was that Steve, are you in trouble. You looked genuinely petrified when that woman spoke, who is she?” I was rather perplexed that Susan had heard enough to know the voice was female, and wondered how much else she had heard. I looked skyward with watering eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m very sorry Susan,” I began “Something urgent has come up and I’m afraid I really will have to go, it can’t wait. I fear this is the one thing that could ever interrupt an evening like this and it has happened. I will explain everything later; I’ll pay the bill on my way out. You may as well stay.”

“Humph!” said Susan, throwing down her serviette and standing to gather her things. “If you think I’m staying here and eating alone you’re crazy!”

 

The next 10 minutes were acutely uncomfortable as amid amused glances from nearby diners, we withdrew, I paid the bill and we exited the restaurant. We parted outside with me offering profuse apologies and Susan storming off frostily, quite understandably. I took another deep breath, so much for my evening, but now my problems were only just beginning. I didn’t have time to dwell on our unpleasant parting, because I was very pressed for time and struggling to remember all of the Online Mistress’ instructions. As usual she had left me no time whatsoever to prepare, I had just been dragged out of my quiet dinner and ordered to get down to her event as quickly as possible. By the sound of it the Online Mistress was at a very special event and the honour of being called to serve her at such was not lost on me. I was also aware that I would need to be on best form as my behaviour would reflect on her.

 

My head was swimming and I felt rather queasy as I raced down roads as fast as I dared following the directions she had given me. There was no time to go home and prepare, if I was to make it on time I had to go as I was. The event was being held at a location I had been to before. It was a house in the country owned by the Online Mistress. I had spent a very uncomfortable weekend there not too long ago, but that was another story. As I drew near the house my hackles rose as I remembered the awful torture I had endured there on that previous occasion. It took a lot of nerve to return to that house. This time there were a few people about going to and fro setting up for a garden party, and there were some delivery vans on the driveway. I found the Online Mistress in the garden directing operations, and reported to her immediately. With a glance at her watch and look of satisfaction she beckoned me to follow her. She showed me into the house and upstairs to one of the bedrooms. I was instructed to take a shower, then put on my uniform which had been laid on the bed for me, then report for further instructions.

 

I quickly showered then put on my uniform. This consisted of a red thong, white shirt, green waistcoat, black tie, black trousers, socks and highly polished shoes. I felt rather uncomfortable dressed thus, especially since it was a warm night, and upon looking in the mirror thought I looked ridiculous. I was no waiter I thought, and the thought of serving the Online Mistress and her friends was quite frankly demeaning. To think I had been dragged away from my evening with Susan to serve thus! A wave of indignation swept over me.

 

Reporting once more to the Online Mistress in the dining room she looked me over with a sneer of approval, and a smirk of satisfaction at my obvious discomfort. I was made to stand to attention while she issued further instructions. The only words I were to speak that night were “Yes, at once Miss/tress!” depending upon whom I was addressing, and she made me practice this aloud several times until I got just the right tone of subservience and enthusiasm that she required.

 

I was to wait hand and foot upon the Online Mistress throughout the night, and jump to and look lively about every task. I was promised a particularly painful fate if caught peeking at comely females or for offering the slightest insolence. When allowed to speak I assured the Online Mistress of my most earnest and heartfelt commitment to the task set. There was just one thing left for her to do before she left to get ready. I was ordered to drop my trousers and suffered the indignity of having a rubber butt plug inserted into my anus. This was most uncomfortable as it agitated my prostate when I moved and kept me feeling tense and tender all evening. “To stop you from sitting on it rather than working!” she pointed out. The Online Mistress also attached a number of wooden clothes pegs to my cock and balls, the pain of which was sure to keep me awake and on my toes as she put it. She was determined to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

 

This done the Online Mistress went to prepare herself, while I went into the garden to help set up. I had to prepare several long trestle tables with tablecloths, and stack them with glasses and ice buckets as well as bottles of wine and champagne. I was put under the command of a rather surly looking young woman called Ms Brooks-Foncette who like the Online Mistress seemed completely unimpressed and even irritated with me, despite having had no previous acquaintance of her. She wore a tight-fitting blue party dress and as she haughtily turned and led me to the cellar where crates of bottles needed bringing up, following behind her I couldn’t help but notice her perfect figure. In the cellar, Ms B-F Wheeled on me, grasped my testicals firmly and exerting a constant pressure upon them suggested what might happen to them if she noticed my reflection in the door glass gawping at her again. As the pain was excruciating due to the presence of the wooden pegs I barely managed to gasp out “Yes, at once Ms Brooks-Foncette!”. I felt utterly ashamed and humiliated as she released them, indicated a stack of crates and said “I want all these upstairs, now get moving.” She paused until I added “Yes, at once Ms Brooks-Foncette!” before departing. Gasping in anguish, I did as I was told.

 

After I had struggled up the stairs with the 15th crate while others (mostly young ladies) stood around chatting, I was ordered to polish and lay out glasses on the tables. I was quite irritated by Ms B-F’s constant inspection of the glasses I had just polished, and returning many of them to their original side with a “tut!” to be done again.

 

Guests began to arrive around 6 pm, and Ms B-F dragged me to one side and instructed me that I was to see to the Online Mistress as my first priority (she didn’t need to remind me of that!), but also to make sure I didn’t neglect the other guests and to keep their glasses and plates topped up. I was warned that I was being watched and any transgressions would be communicated to the Online Mistress afterwards, who would administer punishment as she saw fit. I was then posted at the foot of the stairs to await the descent of my Mistress.

 

Some time passed before I felt a sudden kick against my backside. Stifling an oath I wheeled round to see the Online Mistress standing on the stair above me holding out a slender arm. Rapidly composing myself I took it and began to lead her out into the garden to a swing chair amongst her friends which I had earlier prepared. The Online Mistress looked absolutely stunning in a short brown satin party dress and beautiful bejewelled necklace. Her hair was pinned up most skilfully in a pleasing style. I was mesmerized by her appearance, the grace of her movements and the allure of her perfume. She greeted other guests as she passed by. I led her to her seat in the middle of an unnerving looking group of young women, from whom I received nothing but scowls and haughty looks.

 

“Now, cocktails?” suggested the Online Mistress to her friends once they had finished their greetings. There was a chorus of eager cries. “Waiter!” said the Online Mistress clicking her fingers. Upon my cue I stepped forward secretly cringing in shame at being thus summoned, “Yes Mistress?” I offered. “As it is still the cocktail hour, my friends and I shall start with those.” Turning to her friends she asked “Now what would everyone like?”. At once I was bombarded with a plethora of strange and weird names, which I struggled to remember as I didn’t have a pad to write on. To make matters worse there was more than one stirred not shaken amongst them which I had to try and remember, and in the already flustered state I was in many went over my head. Still trying to come to terms with the way I’d been forced away from my evening with Susan, I tried to remain calm and do the best I could. With the names of a dozen or so cocktails of which most I had never heard still ringing in my ears, I turned to go and fetch them when I felt sharp talons grip my arm rigidly “And I will have a Black Widow” said the Online Mistress ominously. I gulped, and replied as trained “Yes, at once Mistress!”

 

I scurried back to the drinks table where literally hundreds of spirit bottles stood with various shaped glasses. I put my hand to my forehead, I didn’t have a clue where to start. “Is there a problem?” asked a surly voice behind me. Ms Brooks-Foncette stood menacingly hands on hips. I told her that I was to prepare cocktails for the Online Mistress and her friends, but had no idea how to mix them. “Then you’d better find out quickly, because if you mess up this evening for her she will certainly never forgive you!”

“But what should I do?” I asked.

“I am here to see that you do things properly, not tell you how to do them.” She said folding her arms.

I put my hand on my forehead in anguish. Here I was suddenly thrust into a situation as a waiter about which I had absolutely no idea and was minutes away from failing my Mistress and possibly making her look bad in front of her friends. I tried to think of a solution, it wasn’t easy what with worrying in the back of my mind what Susan must be thinking, the pressure of completing my task on time and Ms Brooks-Foncette’s constant belittling of me in the background. I thought about mixing anything together but that was a very bad idea. I couldn’t very well go back and ask them either. I was on the brink of failing my first task of the evening. Ms B-F was saying “Well, don’t just stand there like the pathetic impotent male you are! I’m reporting this at once.” I felt awful.

 

Then as Ms B-F strode off to report my anticipated failure of task 1 to my Mistress, an idea came to me in a flash. I whipped out my mobile phone and began to search the internet for the names that had been flung at me. I tried the Online Mistress’ Black Widow first. The results came up agonizingly slowly but I had the ingredients and method and at once set about mixing it. Then I tried another that I could remember. When I had prepared 4 drinks Ms Brooks-Foncette appeared with the Online Mistress. She was saying “….frankly he hasn’t got a clue, I think you should punish him right away.” The Online Mistress viewed the scene coldly, as I busily prepared the next cocktail. At length she turned to Ms B-F and said “Although a male, slave stephen can be resourceful at times, we’ll give him a chance. After all, there will be plenty of opportunity for punishment later. ” and with a smile she returned to her friends. Ms B-F Seethed as she obviously wanted to see me punished, and she spent her time standing over me muttering that when it came to her turn she would ensure my punishment would be excruciating. This I didn’t doubt, but couldn’t help cheerfully (and possibly sarcastically) replying  “Yes, at once Ms Brooks-Foncette!”. In a fury she grasped my testicals and squeezed them so violently I thought she had ruptured one. I grimaced, doubled over and groaned through my teeth until she released them. I nearly fainted and as she stormed off I staggered to the table nursing them in one hand while supporting myself with the other.

“Waiter? Waiter!! Where are those drinks?!!” cried the Online Mistress.

In a moment I was bolt upright, tray in hand and striding as quickly as I could to the where Online Mistress waited. As I did so my balls ached awfully so much so even my kidney ached.

 

I had no choice but to ask those left to repeat their orders, which they did in bad grace and with tangible irritation. This time I turned on the sound recorder on my phone so I could catch the names and replay them when mixing. I hurried back to the table to mix the rest. Having done so I hastened as rapidly as I could to deliver them. I wasn’t doing too badly I thought, I had almost succeeded in my first task despite insurmountable odds, even though I did have a badly bruised pair of testes to show for it, courtesy of Ms Brooks-Foncette. Vindictive woman I thought, it wouldn’t do to wind her up again. Just as I thought this I felt something catch my ankle and I lurched forward vainly trying to stop myself falling head over heels. The drinks tray flew out of my hand landing on the grass and I landed face first in the lap of a brown haired young lady, who exclaimed “You idiot!!” slapped my face and launched a vicious kick to my already badly bruised groin which caused me to collapse to my knees amid cheers and shrieks of laughter. I gasped in air to relieve the rising feeling of nausea and to try and relieve the agony of my throbbing balls. I happened to glance up and see a smirking Ms B-F grinning at me arms folded, and realized it had been no accident. The young lady whom I had just met brushed at a speck of liquid I had spilt on her dress, then assailed me with hand slaps and insults until pulled away by two cackling friends.

 

“Waiter! Wait-er!!!” called the Online Mistress. Instantly I struggled to my feet and jumped to the Online Mistress’ side. “You oaf! Clear up that mess, and fetch some replacement drinks at once, do you hear!”

“Yes, at once Mistress!” I squeaked, and hobbled away.

 

By the time I had finished serving cocktails it was time for some food and with a click of her well manicured fingers and a nod in the proper direction, I was sent scurrying to fetch trays of vol-au-vents, Zakuski and canapés, and circulate offering them to guests. I found this the most demeaning and humiliating of tasks. There I was dragged away from my evening with Susan, nothing to eat or drink, dressed up in a ridiculous waiter’s outfit and serving a group of mostly young women (in the most alluring party dresses), who took drinks and morsels from the trays I bore, without even so much as a nod of acknowledgement. I was referred to quite rudely in most cases as “Waiter!” all evening, called over frequently where drinks were taken from my tray or empty glasses replaced without one single thank you.

 

Another embarrassing incident occurred while I was going back into the house with some empty glasses. A young fair-haired girl who couldn’t have been more than 25 came out of the loo and approached the patio doors as I was coming through. I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing a short strapless red party dress, the most outrageous I had seen thus far. We both tried to enter at the same time, I was in a rush with only the thought of finding another tray of canapés which the Online Mistress particularly enjoyed and getting back as quickly as possible. I attempted to squeeze past but she didn’t and I accidentally brushed her shoulder, whereupon she rounded upon me saying “How dare you push past me like that, in such a disrespectful manner. You ignorant oaf! You could see I was coming through but you thought you’d just push past anyway!”

“I’m very sorry Miss” I replied, “but I did try to avoid you.”

“No you didn’t you liar, you deliberately walked into me,” she accused poking me in the chest as I backed out onto the patio. She had a very shrill girly voice which was attracting attention from the other party-goers and I began to feel quite embarrassed.

“You are just a waiter, OK, you don’t walk into guests. You’re just staff OK, you give way to guests. And you’re a man, at least you’re supposed to be so you should defer to females instead of trying to force your way through!”

“B-but, I was trying to avoid you Miss” I protested.

“No you weren’t” she persisted “I saw you. You knew I was going through the door but you just wouldn’t wait. Thought you’d push me out of the way. ”

“No, no I assure you miss…” I began.

“No, just shut the f*** up and listen!” she interrupted “You have got a really big attitude problem mister, and it comes with having a small dick. You think you can just push people around, well try it with me and I’ll wipe the floor with you!”

I cannot explain how acutely humiliated this young 25 yr old made me feel in front of the assembled party. Everyone turned to look, and saw her pushing me back as she ripped into me. Knowing she was one of the Online Mistress’ friends what could I do? I began to back off but she pursued me and continued her harangue much to the mirth of everyone. The next moment the Online Mistress appeared and enquired as to what the trouble might be. The girl then began to tell the Online Mistress that I deliberately walked into her and that I was belligerent and rude, a charge which I vehemently denied. In the end the Online Mistress turned to me and said “Waiter, I think you had better apologise to Tabitha for your insolence.”

 

Convinced of my innocence and indignant about being made to apologise to this annoying little woman though I was,  I was not prepared to argue with the Online Mistress, and biting back my outrage and indignation I forced myself to say “I am very sorry Miss for walking into you.”

“Go f*** yourself!” was the answer I received. Impossible woman. I suddenly wished I had turned off my mobile phone when I sat down with Susan earlier. “Now,” said the Online Mistress “if you’ve quite finished squabbling with my guest’s waiter, I want you to clear away the wine glasses and bring out the champagne”

“Yes, at once Mistress!”I hastily replied.

 

I rushed round gathering all the empty wine glasses I could find, then rushed into the kitchen to begin fetching champagne glasses and ice buckets with bottles in them. After uncorking them, filling the glasses then moving round everyone to ensure all had full glasses, and another round of canapés, I returned to my station beside the Online Mistress. I listened in horror as they discussed men in the most derogatory terms and really didn’t know where to look, blushing uncomfortably as I did. Occasionally I would step forward to refill the Mistress’ glass when with a single snap of her fingers she indicated such. The Mistress had some frightening looking friends. There was Keeva, an Irish red head in a green party dress sporting floral tattoos on her upper arms, she seemed quite robust and outspoken. Then there was Tabitha with whom I had tangled previously, a very slight build who looked as though you could pick her up in one hand. Squeaky voice and gorgeous red dress, but a veritable she-demon if aroused. There was Louise, taller than me, another red head quite young who looked quite powerful beneath her black silk dress. Emma stood nearby, brown hair, cheeky face in a white cocktail dress and seemed to have a lively intellect and mischievous look in her eye.

 

As the champagne flowed (I was frequently sent running for more, and completely ignored as I served it) the young ladies spirits rose and they began discussing all manner of embarrassing things. Matters seemed to be getting out of hand and I was worried how far they might go the more they drank. “Waiter!” called the Online Mistress. “Wait-TER! Where is that insolent clod! Oh, there you are! Stop playing with yourself and come here!”

Roused from my embarrassment I leapt to the Online Mistress’ side “I think it’s time we had you ‘dans le nu’ don’t you?”

“I beg your pardon Mistress?” I replied.

“Strip to your undies!” she ordered.

Red-faced and burning with shame I began to unbutton my waistcoat and undo my tie. My humiliation was accentuated when I accidentally made eye contact with Ms Brooks-foncette and Tabitha, sneering smugly at my discomfort. I removed my shirt and began undoing my trousers amid sneers and catcalls from the ladies. There was a burst of laughter as I finally stood before them. “Oh, socks and a red thong, very chic!” laughed Emma. I was left in socks, shoes and red thong, but she then ordered me to retie my bow tie around my bare neck then jump to it and serve more champagne and nibbles, which I did smartly.

 

Returning later to the Online Mistress’ side I heard her mutter “How dare he jiggle those buns in front of me.” And I was treated to the shameful humiliation of being hauled across her knee in public, dressed as I was, and given a spanking with her shoe, much to the mirth of the assembled throng. She then invited her friends to do the same, and some found stinging nettles or thin tree branches which they then proceeded to apply to my posterior most vigorously while I howled in pain held firmly in place by the Online Mistress.

 

Her next idea, was to make me put a large tray secured by a strap which ran around the back of my neck and supported it as it rested against my stomach. I was ordered to fill the tray with drinks. She then bound my wrists behind my back, and gagged me with a borrowed neck scarf and had me circulate thus around the guests offering drinks as best I could whilst she and her friends tittered away at my humiliation. “How pathetic you look, slave” she remarked mirthfully as she added the refinement of securing my ankles with leather shackles and short chain so I could only hobble round the garden. Evidently they enjoyed the sight of me tiptoeing round with the drinks tray around my neck unable to speak or answer back but only mumble unintelligible sounds, and unable to defend myself from wandering hands and feet. When I returned I found the Online Mistress and several of her friends red-faced, tearful and unsuccessfully trying to suppress their laughter.

 

Some time later, the Online Mistress said “You know, I have to say, there can be few things that amuse me more than the sight of a man with a tiny cock. What is the smallest cock anyone has ever seen?” Amid sniggers and giggles suggestions ranged from “my husband’s”, “my little brother when he was 6” to “barely over 8 inches”. I paled at this realizing that 8 inches was more than I could boast even at full erection. I felt awfully self-conscious and could feel my cheeks reddening even more than they already were with shame.

“I wonder what the smallest penis in the world looks like?” mused Emma.

“Oh, I can show you that!” said the Online Mistress, “Waiter!”

“I’ll need some assistance.” Said the Online Mistress and Keeva and Louise stepped forward. “Hold him steady, please” directed the Online Mistress, as she picked up an ice bucket and removed the bottle of Champagne.

I was suddenly gripped by strong arms on either side of me, and held rigidly with my arms behind my back. Sensing something unpleasant was about to happen, I began to cluck weak protestations. By now the rest of the party goers had noticed and taken a keen interest in what was occurring and a crowd of some 50 people now stood around us giggling and shrieking with anticipation. I felt like a fly in a trap, the victim of one of the online Mistress’ mischievous pranks and I couldn’t escape. I knew I was about to be humiliated beyond belief and all I could think of was how I wished I was now in the cinema with Susan as originally planned. To my horror flashes of light indicated people were taking photos and the Online Mistress even paused for them.

 

My humiliation quotient was rising vertically, and it hit the roof when in the next instant I felt the Online Mistress’ cool fingers around the sides of my thong, “Nooo! Please! Noooo!” I squawked, but it was too late. They were yanked down unceremoniously while my genitals spilled out pegs and all. My cock was already shrivelled from the Online Mistress’ clamping of them earlier, and there were cries of laughter as I struggled to try and cover myself up. “No! No! Mercy!” I cried.

“Shut him up will you, Louise.” She directed.

I then endured the ignominy of having Louise’s hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my protestations.

 

Pausing to get everyone’s attention the Online Mistress declared “Behold everyone. In just a few moments the smallest penis in the world shall appear, or should I say disappear! Cameras ready girls?”

Batting off the pegs which still clung to my cock and balls (which was excruciatingly painful), the Online Mistress thrust the ice bucket against my groin and scooped the ice cubes over my rapidly diminishing cock. It was so cold it burned and I shrieked “MMMMMMMMPPPHHH!!!” I had never had anything remotely as cold applied to them like that before and I danced on tiptoe as I tried to lift my genitalia out of the ice bucket, but the Online Mistress and the other two ladies kept a firm grip on me and I was held fast. As I shrieked I remember seeing the moon now shining high in the evening sky.

“Now, how’s it going?” said the Online Mistress peeking over the bucket rim “Oh, yes I can see, it’s shrinking exponentially.”

She shuffled the bucket as the seconds passed, chuckling malevolently to herself as the results of her demonstration began to take shape. My cock and balls felt as though they were burning and went totally numb. I closed my eyes grimacing not only in pain but also in shame. I tried vainly to break free but Keeva and Louise held me too tightly. I cannot describe how small and pathetic this made me feel. Several minutes passed, ,and everyone waited excitedly to see the outcome of Mistress’ antics. Then, with the poise of a ringmaster she theatrically removed the bucket from my groin. “Vvvvoila!” she cried.

 

The crowd of party guests howled,  and laughed until their sides nearly split. All I could do was gape helplessly up and down a line of mainly cackling females. My cock and balls felt totally numb almost burning. Despite being held firmly I managed to take a peek at my cock. I gasped in horror. It was totally white and shrivelled up looking like a small dried fig. My foreskin was convoluted and wrapped about itself over and over and where my cock had previously been there was now just a tiny ball of tightly wrapped skin. No penis was visible at all. It was almost as if it had been removed completely.

“Noohoohoo!” I sobbed, as dozens of flashes went off.

During the prolonged laughter, the Online Mistress stepped forward once more. She placed one hand on her hip, and put her index finger to her mouth. With an exaggerated air of mock concern she exclaimed,

“Oh Stephen, you look so re-dick-you-less!” When the laughter finally died down she received a rapturous ovation. Personally, I had never been so humiliated in all my life!