Serving

After your shower, Emma informs you that you and her are scheduled to be servers at a function John is having. Mentally preparing yourself, and making sure you can still stand properly, you follow her to the kitchen. Inside, your hands are bound behind your back and a silver tray is attached to your midriff with the other side held up by a chain that hooks to your collar. The way the tray is set up effectively sets your breasts on display along with whatever you’re carrying, which right now is several champagne glasses.

You enter the living space where a group of about thirty well-dressed men and women of about middle-age or older are mingling. Walking between them are a few of your fellow naked staff. They pay you no mind mostly aside from a stray hand or two grabbing your ass or tits, and the next hour goes by without an issue. As the night goes on however, the hands start to linger on you more and more. In one corner you can already see Emma on her knees, **** on the cock of a man old enough to be her dad. To your surprise it turns you on a bit more than you expected.

At that moment however, a hand grabs onto your waist from behind and you nearly lose your balance. Recovering, you turn to face the person who did it.

You’re greeted by a couple in their early forties, although at first glance they could pass for early thirties. The man wears a tuxedo while the woman sports an elegant white dress. They look you up and down with hungry eyes that at the same time hold recognition in them.

“My my, Sarah. Is that really you? You really have grown!”

It takes you a second before clicking for you: this couple was friends of your parents, and your family had often sat next to them at fundraisers and galas. They never had any children you knew of but always seemed to be friendly with you and other people your age. You blush with embarrassment and want to cover yourself, but the device binding your arms behind your back and the tray full of drinks and finger food make it impossible.