The Waiter's Tale

A waiter/slave at a fashionable domina-only restaurant discovers an 
unusual and exotic "special" on the menu.

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The Waiter's Tale


	It had been nearly four years since my Mistress,
whom I shall call S., had opened her restaurant.  Located on
the outskirts of a large city in the Midwest, it was
well-known among the many dominas in the area, and had
begun to attract an international clientele.  Mistress S., who
was a small, trim, auburn-haired Italian woman in her early
forties, had spent nearly twenty years in Europe where she
had become both a gourmet chef and an exquisitely wicked
dominatrix.  Having inherited a beautiful piece of wooded
property, which included a fine three story, 15 room brick
house, she had decided to move back to America where she
would start a business combining her two great passions: 
cooking and the domination of men.  It was several weeks
after she had begun the renovation of the house when I
answered her ad.

	I was an artist/carpenter in my early thirties, still
wondering what I was going to do next.  Having worked a
succession of jobs (including waiting tables), and always
having been consumed by fantasies concerning dominant
women, I was intrigued by the ad which read :"WAITER,
ASSISTANT TO CHEF, in soon-to-be-opened gourmet
restaurant.  Must be willing to work for demanding female
owner, complete obedience expected and rewarded. 
Respond in writing with full length photo."  Within a few
days my letter was answered, and after a brief interview
during which I was ordered by Mistress S. to do various
menial tasks, she was satisfied with my attitude and
provisionally "hired" me.

	During the following weeks, I was trained personally
by Mistress S., not only in the kitchen skills I would need to
assist her, but in the art of serving her as her fully
submissive male slave.  On some levels, this process was
easy, as many years of fantasies were being fulfilled; 
however, I was subjected to intense psychological and
physical abuse to reach the point at which Mistress was
satisfied that my submission was complete, and that I was
worthy to add to her household.  Thus, I became an unpaid
(but not unrewarded, nor unpunished) worker, doing
carpentry and working in the restaurant.

	For the next three or four years, her household
consisted of myself and two to four other male slaves, with
the occasional dominant female friend of Mistress S. who
might be an extended guest.  As Mistress was a woman who
enjoyed her luxuries, but was not, to her regret,
independently wealthy, she worked (and worked her slaves)
extremely hard.  The restaurant, which was very expensive,
stayed open six days, for both lunch and dinner.  Set in
beautiful surroundings, it was completely private, and
catered only to dominant women who wished to enjoy fine
dining while indulging in various sado-masochistic and
fetish play.  From April to October, weather permitting, the
restaurant served its customers on a large outdoor patio,
overlooking a valley with a stream.  Kinky wealthy women
found Mistress S.'s restaurant delightful, and word quickly
spread throughout that segment.  We were never lacking
customers.

	It was a mild, sunny June afternoon when my life
would change forever.  Mistress had assigned me waiter
duty, the most coveted assignment among her slaves, since
it involved interaction with the clientele, and not merely
kitchen labor.  Often, guests would devise elaborate games
and were allowed to use (and abuse) us in any way, which
could be very exciting and satisfying.  If guests were not
satisfied with our performance, they were free to discipline
us themselves, or, inform Mistress S., whose wrath was
something to be avoided.

	As I was walking toward one of my tables to check
the settings and arrangements, I saw a black Rolls-Royce
pull into the parking area just outside the garden wall which
separated the dining patio from the rest of the grounds.  It
was not unusual for our clientele to arrive in luxury cars, but
even so a Rolls attracted my attention.  A young white male
in a "uniform" that appeared to be part chauffeur's and part
bondage gear got out and opened the rear door.  Emerging
from the rear seat was a stunning black woman who
appeared to be considerably over six feet tall, with piles of
elaborate braids arranged on top of her head.  Even from a
distance I could see her full red lips and white teeth in  her
wide mouth, and was aware of her extraordinary beauty. 
Mesmerized at my station, I watched her approach.  She
was wearing a tight satin-like shimmering gold skirt that
came only inches past her crotch, a black spaghetti strap top
that left her slightly rounded stomach (with a pierced navel
containing a large ruby) exposed, and open-toed heels.  Her
skin was nearly as dark as the black top, which could barely
contain her enormous breasts.  She was wearing some of the
most obviously valuable jewelry I had seen, gold bracelets,
rings and a necklace, with diamonds and emeralds
everywhere.
  
	As she came up to my table, I looked at her feet (as
we are trained to do), admiring her beautifully manicured
gold toenails. Standing in my waiter-slave uniform (a collar,
an apron just big enough to hold a pencil and order pad, and
nothing else), I softly asked "Would mistress wish to be
given a table?"
  
	"You may have permission to look at me," she said,
and I glanced up, transfixed by her deep, authoritative
voice.  "I would like a table, but I need to relieve myself
after a the ride here."

	Almost before she had finished speaking, I had
dropped to my knees in front of her, tilted my head back
and opened my mouth.  Raising her tiny skirt a couple of
inches, she began to pee, and I moved forward and expertly
caught her stream in my mouth, and swallowed her warm,
sweet urine.  Catching the last few drops, and awaiting her
instruction, I heard her say "You may clean me off now",
and I eagerly licked the few drops that had clung to her
thick tightly-curled pubic hair.  Her scent was so
intoxicating that I was almost unable to keep myself from
getting an erection (a cardinal sin, unless ordered).

	"Show me to my table, slave, I'm famished," she said
in a low growl.  "I've heard your owner has some unusual
specialties, and I love exotic dishes."  She gave me an evil
grin, smiling broadly.  I noticed her front teeth had gold
inlays designed to mimic teeth that had been filed to points. 
She ran her long pink tongue across her teeth while making
a soft smacking sound, and my cock started to throb into a
half-erect state.  I knew that she was watching its response,
which made it even more difficult to control.  

	As she took the menu from me with her right hand,
she simultaneously reached under my tiny "apron" with her
left and cupped my balls gently in her long fingers.  For
several moments she studied the menu, all the time fondling
my balls.  "I see your Mistress's specialty is an appetizer of
calf or lamb testicles, which certainly sounds good.  But I'm
in the mood for something a little more exotic today.  Ask
your owner to come here, I have some questions about the
menu."

	I hustled into the kitchen where Mistress was
supervising the cooking.  When I told her that a customer
wanted to see her, she gave me a look that meant certain
and severe punishment if there was a problem.  Following
behind her as she walked briskly to my table, I was hoping
that I wouldn't be punished by losing the chance to serve the
most beautiful client I had seen in months.  When we got to
her table, our guest ordered me to come to her chair, and
again cupped my balls in her hand.  "I have come a great
distance to enjoy your establishment Mistress S," she began,
"but I have some unusual tastes, and the means to indulge
them.  Would you be willing to put this slave's balls on your
menu for, say, ten thousand dollars?"  She paused.
"Apiece," she added, and gave Mistress S a wicked smile.

	Although Mistress S was clearly taken aback, only a
second passed before the thought of twenty thousand
dollars spoke.  "Why of course, Mademoiselle, I would be
delighted to serve you this slave's balls.  How would you
like them prepared?"

	"Actually, Mistress S., I would like to have the slave
serve me his balls himself.  I've found it adds immeasurably
to the experience of eating a man's balls to have the man
watch as I savor them.  Also, I shall want to castrate him
myself.  Nothing compares to the level of arousal or the
orgasms I have when I perform a castration.  I've castrated
well over a hundred men, and each time I am amazed by the
intensity of the feeling in my cunt.  I'd be happy to castrate
him right here, if you and your other customers would enjoy
watching,"  she purred.  She was lovingly kneading my balls
in her fingers, and I now had a full erection.  "See," she
continued, "he is aroused by the thought of my taking his
balls, aren't you my pet?"  She fixed me with her eyes, while
slowly licking her lips.

	"Yes Mistress," I stammered, "I am so honored to
be allowed to give my balls to you.  Please help me make
my castration one that will give you the greatest pleasure
you've ever had."  I could hardly believe what I was saying,
but I was in a state of total arousal, and would have done
anything to please her.  I had fallen to my hands and knees,
in a state of ecstasy, and was sucking her beautiful toes.

	Mistress S's curiosity was obviously piqued.  "When
did you develop your, um, interest, mademoiselle?" 

	"My family has owned a highly productive diamond
mine in Africa for nearly 80 years," she began, "and when I
was a girl my mother, from whom I inherited my dominant
personality, took over control of the mines from my father,
who was a weak and ineffectual man, and who disappeared
one day under circumstances that are a mystery, but I
suspect had to do with my mother.  One day, when I was
about 15, and by then fully developed physically, my mother
was disciplining one of the mineworkers for attempting to
steal a few rough diamonds.  She had called me into the
room, and told me to watch.  'When a man takes my jewels', 
mother said, 'I take his!'

	"She turned, and taking a gleaming, jeweled knife in
her hand, bent down in front of the terrified man who was
tied to restraints on the wall.  She made a short cutting
movement with the knife, and the man's balls fell into her
hand.  She whistled for our dog, and threw the balls to the
floor where they were eagerly lapped up in front of the
castrated worker. Watching this had caused my cunt to
explode with the an orgasm more intense than any I had
ever experienced.  I had found the "key", so to speak, to my
erotic existence.  It was virtually all I could think about.

	"A few years later, my mother died suddenly, and I
inherited the mines.  It was a great source of money and
men to support my little 'habit', but it wasn't until the fourth
man I castrated that the idea of having him serve me his
freshly cut balls, and watch while I ate them came to me. 
I'd always enjoyed lamb or calf balls, and it seemed ashamed
to throw a perfectly good set to the dog!  So I had them
prepared, and couldn't believe how much fun it was to
watch the slave watch me as I slowly devoured his balls.  I
had no idea how delicious they would be, and now, I can
tell by just the feel of a set of balls how they will taste.  It
took several years before I discovered that a white man's
balls are tastier than a black man's, since for a long time
black workers were all I had access to.  Plus," she laughed,
"the racial difference gives me greater excitement--I just
love doing white men!"

	"So, that's what brings you to America," said
Mistress S.

	"Yes.  By the way, I'd be happy to take him off your
hands and put him to work in the mine--for say another
twenty thousand?"

	"He's yours!"  Mistress S. joyfully replied, counting
the money in her head.

	"I like being surrounded by slaves whose balls I've
taken.  Just seeing them look at me knowing that I have
their balls turns me on."  Now she looked down at me.

	"Get up!" she barked.  "Let me hold my delicious
little treats.  You, my puppy, and in for a pleasant surprise,"
she said in a whisper as she cradled my balls.  "One of the
things I've discovered from having enjoyed so many men's
balls is that they always taste much better if the man has
been ejaculated right before I cut off his balls.  So you will
get to have the best orgasm you can imagine--the more I
can get you to squirt, the better these balls will taste!"  She
looked at me and again gave me a toothy smile.  "What
would help me give you the best come, my little pet? How
often does a slave get to tell the Mistress what he wants?"
she laughed.  "But nothing too long, because my pussy is
sooo wet at the thought of castrating you that the juices are
running down my thighs! And I'm hungry!"


`	I knew from the minute I had seen her what I
craved.  "Mistress, would you allow me to pleasure your ass
with my tongue?"

	"Fabulous!"  she said with a throaty voice.  "I love a
man's tongue in my asshole.  But I want to feel it go in deep
each time your cock squirts, got it?  In and out with the
rhythm of your ejaculation."  She paused, and considered. 
"That will be an excellent position to castrate you in--on
your back, tongue in my asshole, legs spread.  It should
make great viewing for the guests!"

	By now my mind had gone almost completely blank,
as I was in a state of such arousal and excitement that the
surroundings had faded from my senses.  I was vaguely
aware that the other women at the restaurant had gathered
close by, and were watching as a low padded bench was
carried over.  My new owner pointed one long, taloned
finger at me and motioned for me to lie on the bench.  As if
in a trance, I positioned myself on my back, my legs spread
with my cock and balls hanging just over one end of the
bench, my head under a pillow at the other.  She straddled
me, facing my feet, and slowly lowered her magnificent firm
round ass toward my face.  As she lowered herself, her tiny
skirt rode up and her cheeks parted slightly.  My cock
stiffened even more as I craned forward and tickled the rim
of her asshole with my tongue.  She groaned as my tongue
began to probe her ass, and I could feel the juice from her
cunt drip on my chin and neck.  Very lightly, her fingers
started to play with my cock.  My tongue was fully into her
ass when I heard her softly urge me on.  "It's time to come
baby, I want your balls now.  Give me the biggest spurt of
come you've ever had!"

	I exploded for what seemed like a minute, my
tongue pumping in an out of her delicious ass.  My chin and
neck were covered with cunt juices, and I felt a sharp but
not unpleasant tingling in my scrotum.  Her asshole began
contracting as she wailed with pleasure.  "There!  I've got
them!"  she cried triumphantly.  As she continued to come,
riding my face, I felt a numbness set in around where my
balls had been.  Finally, satisfied, she raised herself up as the
guests tittered excitedly, some applauding her, others
moaning orgasmically themselves.  

	"Now my newest little eunuch, let's get you fixed up
so you may serve me my treats."  She removed some items
from her handbag, and bent down to work on my incision. 
With practiced expertise, I was stitched and bandaged
quickly, and since she had  applied a topical anesthetic,  I
felt no pain.  "I will see you shortly when my appetizers are
ready," she laughed, waving me off toward the kitchen.

	Looking back, I can not remember going to the
kitchen, but I have clear memories of what happened next, a
scene which I have played over in mind with great pleasure
hundreds of times.  Standing at her table, I presented her
with a small silver covered platter, and meekly spoke. 
"Would Mistress allow me to serve her appetizer?"

	"What have you brought me slave?" she said with a
smile displaying her gold patterned teeth.

	"I have brought you my own balls, Mistress, which I
hope you will find acceptable," I said, uncovering the platter
and setting it on the table in front of her.

	"I hope so too," she replied, "or I will have to find
some other part of you to satisfy me!  You may watch while
I eat your balls--remain where you are so I may have the
pleasure of watching you."

	I remember it took a long time for her to slowly
savor each small bite.  After finishing the first ball, she had
me lick her cunt and asshole.  I had never felt so fulfilled. 
Later, when she had finished, I was led away to her car, and
have been serving her for the last three years.  Although she
has since castrated many more men, she tells me every time
I am summoned that no one's balls have ever tasted as good
as mine.  Since my tongue is always in her asshole when she
tells me, I am, unfortunately, unable to thank her directly.