Veil

Pet?

Yes, Mistress?

We're having company over for afternoon tea - a couple of folks from church. Go get dressed properly, then wait for me to come inspect you.

Yes, Mistress, I murmur, getting to my feet and giving her a respectful bow. Once inside my bedroom, I quickly check my outfit in the mirror. My usual grey daily wear dress is so plain it's almost ostentatious in its modesty, gathered at my waist with a simple white sash, matched to the white cloth covering my hair. I flash myself a smile, dust a tiny smudge off the mirror with one gloved hand, and move to stand facing the wall by my bed, with my head resting against the wall on my crossed forearms. Mistress has me assume this position each morning, either when we're washing together or after my morning prayers, and hold it until she dismisses me.

After a couple of silent, peaceful minutes, I hear her footsteps approaching my bedroom. She enters, shuts the door behind her, and slowly circles me, assessing.

Very good, pet, she purrs. Always so obedient for me. I feel a gentle flicker of heat at her words, but I'm well-trained enough that I don't show it. Instead, I simply reply: Yes, Mistress.

She stands beside me, so close that I can feel the humming energy of her body inches from mine; my mouth goes dry with anticipation, and I find myself tensing slightly. Her fingertips make the smallest contact with the back of my neck and I flinch, but resume my position right away. She hooks two fingers underneath my collar, then leans closer and presses her lips to the back of my neck, right above the leather band.

God, Pet, she breathes. You're so fucking hot, I just want to...

Her sentence tails off, and I feel her other hand gently tugging my dress upwards. She slides her fingers slowly up the inside of one of my thighs, still leaning so close that I can hear her breathing quickening, and I roll my hips slightly, squirming with my own need. The hand on my collar curls into a tighter grip and she presses me into the wall, holding me firmly in place and underlining just how powerless I am to resist this - not that I want to, in any case. Her fingertips trail up my thigh and between my legs to cup my pussy, and I can almost hear her smirking as she says:

Still wet for me?

I would nod if I could. Always, Mistress, I say, voice low, almost a whisper. It's true, too - during each morning inspection, Mistress makes a point of depositing an amount of lubricant deep inside me, so that it will gradually seep out throughout the day, keeping my body permanently ready for her to use whether or not I want it. She pushes two fingers roughly inside me, and I bite off my own quiet moan. No sooner has she taken me fully than she withdraws, leaving me panting with desire.

Fun though it'd be to take you right here and now, pet, we do actually have guests coming over. Clean my fingers, then I'll get you prepared.

She presses two fingers to my lips, and I do as I was told. She wipes them dry on my dress (a thing of hers: she likes when my clothing is marked, even if slightly, with evidence of her using me), then I hear her rummaging in the cupboard. I wait, nervous about what she's about to do; normally when we have guests she requires that I wear a plug, but those are all kept in the bathroom when not in use, so she must be looking for something else.

Lean your head back slightly, pet. Keep your arms where they are. Once I do so, a thick band of black cloth is slipped over my face - a heavy blindfold, completely blocking all light. She ties it firmly behind my head. The sudden loss of my eyesight used to be disorienting, but Mistress spent months acclimatizing me to it, and now it feels familiar, even cozy. However -

Am I to wait here while you have guests, Mistress? Perhaps she's going to restrain me further and simply leave me here to wait in the dark and the quiet without her.

No, pet, she says. Open your mouth. I do so, and an object (my usual ball gag, I think) is pulled between my teeth. Mistress buckles it behind my head, taking away my words as well as my eyesight. She strokes the side of my neck with the backs of two fingers, pressing another gentle kiss just above the line of my collar, then I hear a faint rustling of fabric and feel her touching around the edge of my hair covering.

It takes her a minute to affix my veil properly, during which I stand there, silently waiting. Once she's done, she steps back away from me. Turn and face me, she says. I do so, and I feel her lift my veil away from my face. Perfect, she says, and leans close to me and pulls the neckline of my dress down to press yet another kiss to the hollow of my throat. My beautiful girl.

I squirm slightly, bowing my head. I can't thank her, gagged like this, but the way she speaks to me never fails to make me blush.

Now, here's what will happen next, pet. As I said, I've invited a couple of nice folks from church over for afternoon tea. You're going to serve us, of course, because being good hosts is important. I'll do all the talking for us, but you will sit with me on the couch while we're doing so. Do you understand?

I nod that I do, wondering if this is what Mistress had in mind when she first began teaching me to navigate the house and do simple tasks while blindfolded. These days I'm well capable of making her tea or preparing and serving a meal without the use of my eyesight, but I've never really... done it in the presence of others before. My heavy veil will conceal the fact that I'm blindfolded from our visitors, and I can hardly beg their pardon for the extra difficulty my Mistress has imposed on me, so I'll just have to work hard and be even more diligent than usual about doing a good job. Mistress must be able to tell that I'm nervous about it, because she pulls me into a warm and loving hug.

You'll be just fine, pet, she says. If it's really too much for you, you can come back into your room any time you'd like and I'll see our guests off. Do you understand?

I nod again, relieved. Mistress pushes me - hard, sometimes - to move beyond what is comfortable and into the sometimes-painful places where growth happens, but she always reminds me that I'm safe with her in the doing. Love for her wells up in my heart, and I give her an affectionate squeeze as I steady myself. I can do this. I will do this, and I will make Mistress proud.

Good girl, she murmurs, and I blush again, invisibly. She takes me by the collar, then gently guides me back against the wall, pressing my face into the wood. She pulls my dress up once again, and I feel a brief cold pressure, then the wonderful sensation of being filled as she slides my plug into me. I squeeze my thighs together, and she chuckles. I didn't forget, pet. I was just leaving your favorite until last. I nod, and she pulls me away from the wall. I feel her smoothing my dress back down, then I hear my bedroom door open. They'll be here in a few minutes. Start some water for tea, and lay out some biscuits.

I know the kitchen and living room as well as I know my own body, and can move around them gracefully even without my eyes. I find my way by feel to the kettle, fill it with water and turn it on, then find the snack drawer and extract three different boxes of biscuits. A plate, a minute of hopefully artful arranging, and voila. I carry the plate over to the living room and set it down on the coffee table; even though I know where I am, letting go of the plate is still too much of an act of faith for me, so I touch the table to make sure it's still where it usually is. After that, I go to wait in the kitchen, so that I can start whichever tea our guests request.

After some time waiting, simply standing in the kitchen in darkness and listening to myself breathe, I hear a knock at the front door. Mistress answers and welcomes our guests into our home - I don't catch any names, but I make our two voices, one male and one female. My mind tries to match the voices to anyone I know, but I draw a blank. It doesn't matter really though. Mistress asked me to serve, and serve I shall. I hear Mistress and our two guests move into the living room, and after a moment, Mistress calls out:

Sweetheart? Could we have a chamomile tea and a peppermint, please? And a decaf black tea for me.

My default reply is stifled by the gag; I have no way to signal that I've heard her, so I simply gather a trio of mugs, pull teabags from their boxes by memory and feel, and pour hot water over them. I can't use a timer, so I stand over the mugs, counting out the correct steeping times so I can remove the teabags. Once all three are gone, I carefully pick up the three mugs and walk into the living room, trying as best I can not to look like someone who's deathly afraid of bumping into obstacles.

Ah, thank you. It's Mistress, and the sound of her voice guides me both to the table, where I set all three mugs down with their coasters, and onto the couch by her side. As I sink into the couch, my sitting position puts a slight pressure on the base of my plug, sending a secret thrill through me; I firmly prevent myself from giving the slightest external sign. Mistress puts an arm around me, pulling me a bit closer to her, and introduces me.

I'm sure you've noticed her veils many times before, Mistress explains. She wears them whenever she's out in public. Not usually at home, but since it's her first time meeting you two... well, you know. She's also currently under a vow of silence, so I doubt she'll be too talkative, but she did want you to know she very much appreciates you visiting us. I nod, as I can tell I am expected to.

Well, pleasure to meet you, the male voice says - a low, slightly gravelly tenor with a broad country accent. I'm Jeremiah, and this here is my wife Marie. I incline my head towards him, as though I could see him and was giving him a greeting nod. With the introductions made, the conversation drifts back to local topics - hay prices and animal health, weather and road conditions - and I do my best to listen attentively, even though I'm not expected to participate. Mistress keeps an arm draped loosely around my shoulder, fingernails drawing slow circles on the sleeve of my dress, and the closeness to her and repetitive motion lulls me into a sense of cozy intimacy.

Gradually, Mistress' fingertips work their way across my shoulder to my collarbone, then come to rest lightly against my collar itself. It must look fairly subtle, I think - we have guests, after all - but even this very soft touch has my complete attention. I hear a soft squeak from the other couch, as of someone getting up, and then Mistress takes my collar in hand and I feel the warmth of her breath by my ear.

Legs apart, pet, she whispers, barely audible. I freeze - in front of the guests? Surely she doesn't mean - but no, Mistress gave an order. I part my knees, feeling the heavy material of my dress brushing across my legs.

I hear someone padding across the carpet, then a moment later feel someone on the floor between my legs. Alarmed, I start to turn towards Mistress, wishing desperately that I could see, but she simply holds my collar in a firm grip. Relax, pet. It's alright.

I whimper, now a little bit afraid, but I do as Mistress says and try to stay still. I hear Jeremiah murmuring something, then I feel my dress being tugged up over my knees, then up my thighs... I can feel myself flush in shame as Mistress bares my naked pussy before our guests, then an even hotter wave of humiliation as she gently nudges my legs still further apart, exposing the base of the plug for all to see. I shake my head, mortified, but Mistress leans close and says: There's nothing to be afraid of, pet. These are our people.

I don't have time to figure out what she means by that before I'm surprised by the sensation of warm skin on my inner thighs - warm skin, fabric, and hair. Whoever it is finds their way to my pussy, and I feel a warm, soft tongue starting to draw gentle strokes between my labia. I squirm, moaning into my gag, and Mistress tugs on my collar. Hands behind your head, pet, and keep still. She can't see either, so don't make it difficult for her.

I nod, doing my best to obey, and I hear Jeremiah speaking in soft tones from somewhere between my legs. That's a good girl, he says. Tastes good, doesn't she? I hear an enthusiastic "m-hm" from the girl serving me, who I suppose must be his wife Marie. Whoever she is, she finds her way to my clit and I can't keep my hips from moving in small circles in time with her tongue. Each circle shifts the plug inside me, and the heady mix of humiliation, pleasure, and being filled rapidly stokes the fire of my arousal. Before long I'm panting for breath, starting to lose myself in enjoyment -

And the playful tongue on my clit abruptly stops. I don't think she can take much more, Mistress says, laughing. It does seem like your girl is quite talented, though.

Ohhh yes, Jeremiah replies; it sounds like he's back on the opposite couch. You c'n borrow her some time, if you'd like.

I think my girl might like that, Mistress muses. Perhaps we can set up a playdate for them?

I think we could arrange that, he replies. So long as we're both there to supervise, of course.

Mistress giggles. Of course. And I think... we should have them both blindfolded again in future, as well. It's quite hot, I think, having them play together when they can't see each other.

Jeremiah grunts his agreement. She's blindfolded under there? By way of response, Mistress lifts my veil, revealing both my blindfold and my gag. It's Jeremiah's turn to laugh. Vow of silence indeed. I like that.

I feel Mistress' fingers trailing down between my still-spread legs, and then her warm hand cupping my aching pussy. Well, she says. It seems like my girl's quite ready for something a little bigger. I think I might bid you two farewell for now and go see to her, but perhaps in future... well, she's never actually been with a man before.

Is that so, Jeremiah says thoughtfully. Well, I might know one who'd be willing to step up.

We'll discuss some more, Mistress says. Looks like Marie might be pretty eager to get home as well.

Both doms laugh at that, and then I hear movement around me; when Mistress orders it, I stand and give a polite curtsy. After that, I hear the front door open and shut, and then Mistress letting out a long, shaky breath.

That, she says, was hot as fuck. Good work, pet. Go wait for me on your bed.

I can't speak, so I simply nod and make my way to my bedroom. Waiting on my bed means in the bedtime position: naked, on all fours, with my back straight. I strip my dress and veil off, leaving my hair covering in place, and get into the position, trembling with anticipation. I'm still blindfolded and gagged, since Mistress didn't tell me to remove either, and I can still feel the plug's firm, familiar pressure inside me. I shiver as the cold air touches my skin, settling in to wait if I need to.

Luckily, Mistress turns out to be just as eager as I am. I hear her come into my bedroom, and within seconds she has my hair in a vice grip, forcing my face down into my pillow as she presses the tip of her strapon against my waiting pussy, and then -

End.