A humiliating dinner

Lucas is a 33-year-old man, brunette, slightly overweight, who has found in domination a passion he exercises with almost artistic precision. I’m Emmeline, 29 years old, with curly blonde hair, a small belly, and generous thighs that give me a look that’s both soft and sensual. We met online, and for the past seven months, Lucas has been my master. He’s guided me through various experiences of pain and humiliation in the intimacy of our relationship, helping me progress significantly.

During one domination session, I was tied to the bedposts, naked, with nipple clamps. Lucas was playing with the clamps with one hand while teasing my pussy with the other, exploring the limits of my submission.

“Listen, Emmeline, I think it’s time for you to discover a new facet of your submission. I want to expose you to public humiliation,” he said, his voice soft but firm, twisting the clamps slightly to heighten the sensation.

Though hesitant, I felt a part of myself intrigued by the idea, but fear outweighed it.

“I’m not sure, Lucas. In front of other people… it’s different,” I replied, my voice trembling as I tried to focus despite the pain.

Seeing my hesitation, Lucas suggested, “Imagine a party with your friends. A game where you’ll have to prove your submission, not just to me but in front of them too. It’d be a game of neither yes nor no. You won’t be able to say those words, and every time you do, you’ll have to remove a piece of clothing.”

I shook my head, clearly uncomfortable. “No, Lucas, that’s too much. I can’t. It’s already hard enough in private.”

“Listen to me,” he continued. “It’d be a way to show how devoted you are, to free yourself from some inhibitions. You could choose who’s there, control the environment. And think about it—it’s just a game. I’m sure you can keep some clothes on; you’re smart, you’ll find ways to dodge the questions.”

After a long discussion where Lucas argued about the benefits of this experience for our relationship and my personal growth in humiliation, I finally gave in, swayed by his enthusiasm and promises of support.

“Okay, I’ll try. I get to pick the guests?” I asked.

“Yes, any ideas who to invite?” Lucas replied, pleased with this victory.

“Caroline, first. She knows about us. And then… Mélisande. We haven’t known each other long, but she might understand.”

The next day, Lucas pressed the issue, ordering me to organize the party. He explained the rules of the game: “You’ll serve like a good little maid. And remember, the game starts as soon as the last guest walks through the door. If you manage to keep at least one piece of clothing, there’ll be no penalty. But if you’re naked… let’s just say there’ll be some fun consequences.”

He deliberately left out the details of the penalties, implying they’d be unlikely if I was careful.

Though already embarrassed by the prospect, I agreed, driven by my desire to please Lucas. I called Caroline first.

“Hey, Caro, would you like to come over for dinner at our place Friday night?”

“Oh, Emmeline, it’s been forever! Yes, of course, I’m super excited!”

“Great! See you Friday then,” I said, not yet revealing the game.

Then I called Mélisande: “Mélisande, I’m hosting a little get-together at home on Friday. Would you like to come?”

“That sounds nice, Emmeline. But, uh, I’d like to bring Didier—you know, we’re together now.”

Not wanting to seem rude, I agreed, though inwardly I wasn’t thrilled.

“Shit, Didier… I barely know him, and now he’s going to see all this?” I thought, but I replied with a forced smile, “Sure, bring him along—the more, the merrier!”

The big day arrived, and I was busy in the kitchen, completely naked as Lucas had demanded for his pleasure. I was preparing a sophisticated dinner, every dish needing to be perfect. I started chopping vegetables for a salad, my movements precise despite my nudity. Lucas, noticing my stress, didn’t miss a chance to tease me—pinching my butt, giving me light spanks, and whispering mocking encouragements.

“Careful not to burn the sauce, my little slave,” he said, smacking my ass. “Maybe you should add some of your own juices to make it… tastier.”

Blushing from shame and concentration, I worked hard to prepare everything without mistakes, feeling Lucas’s gaze on me with every move. I was nervous, not just because of the upcoming game but because the kitchen, usually a place of comfort, had become a stage for humiliation.

Next, I handled the meat, carefully preparing it into skewers, every gesture under Lucas’s critical and amused eye.

“Do it right!” he said, pinching a nipple to throw me off.

I let out a small whimper of pain but stayed focused.

Forty-five minutes before the guests arrived, with the cooking finally done, Lucas allowed me to get dressed. I discovered the outfit he’d chosen: white panties and a bra, a white floral dress, and a pair of sandals. The selection was minimal, and I quickly realized I’d need to be extremely careful not to end up naked early in the game.

“He really wants to see me squirm…” I thought, looking at the clothes, “but I don’t have a choice. I need to be clever and make sure I never say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ It can’t be that hard.”

I slipped on the panties first, adjusting the white fabric against my skin, then the bra, feeling the light material against my breasts. I put on the floral dress, its soft fabric brushing my curves, hoping it’d be enough to shield me during the game. Finally, I stepped into the sandals, each step of dressing a reminder of what awaited me.

In front of the mirror, I looked at myself, adjusting my dress, hoping each piece of clothing would offer a layer of protection against the humiliations to come.

“If I can keep at least my panties or bra, I’ll avoid the penalties… That’s doable, right?” I asked myself, reassuring myself as best I could.

My stress kept rising, every tick of the clock sounding like a march toward the unknown. I was both excited and terrified about the evening ahead, aware that it would be a test of my submission like never before.