Service. Lots and lots of service

"You will serve wine and a variety of cold hors d'oevres," Mr. Berridge explains, leading you to the kitchen. The caterer delivered the food earlier and you can find it in the fridge. Wine is the cooler here, and I have some red wine opened to breath on the table there. Make the rounds of the guests, alternating between wine and food on each trip. Understand?"

You nod, waiting for him to continue. "My guests may seem a touch eccentric, even a little odd. Perhaps they will seem extremely weird to you. That's none of your concern. Your job is to serve food and drink, be decorative, and be...very compliant." His smile makes you bite your lip and wriggle nervously.

"Compliant?"

"Yes. It's likely, actually it's probable, well to be honest it's certain that some of my guests may take liberties with your person. Liberties such as I took with you when you arrived a few minutes ago."

You blush deeply, your eyes widening as you imagine yourself being fingered and pawed by strangers. Your heart beats faster, and you're surprised to find that the idea excites you as much as it appalls you.

"You have my word, and the guarantee in the employment contract, that no permanent damage or injury will be done to you. My guests are sophisticated libertines, they are not wild animals. Do you understand?"

You look at him, blushing and biting your lip nervously. "Do you mean...they might...might..."

"They might finger you Lisa," he says with a smile, moving closer to you, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "They might kiss you, or fondle you or lick you, or spank you. Perhaps more than that. Perhaps much, much more."

You blush even deeper, wriggling a bit in your anxiety, looking down at your feet because you are unable to find the courage to meet his eyes, afraid that he will see your growing arousal in your face as well as your embarrassment. The thought of strange hands and mouths on your body makes you quiver slightly, thinking of being handled like a plaything exciting a primal part of you. His mention of spanking particularly thrills you. You've always loved being spanked, and when previous partners have play spanked you it has always set off a torrent of arousal in you that drives you mad.

"More?" you manage to ask, your voice quavering.

"Yes, more," he answers. "There is an excellent chance that you will be fucked. In fact, I'd say it's a certainty, because whether or not anyone else fucks you, I plan to."

"But..but..." you stammer.

"Of course, if you wish to quit, either now or before the party is over, you may. You may leave at any time. That will place you in violation of your employment contract, and eviction proceedings will commence. I have the order to vacate all ready for delivery to you, if that's the choice you wish to make."