I go to a lot of trouble to put myself and my sub, Butler, in social situations to remind him of his status as my slave. Our yearly winter vacation in Florida with my girlfriend Heather and her sub, Suzie, is perfect because no one knows he is my long term partner. During our stay, Butler is not allowed sexual or social contact with me because this time is set aside for Heather. If he serves well, I allow him a weekly teasing wank with my assistance. The three women live in main house while he lives in the garage apt and plays the part of our handyman and gardener. Butler is never seen with me in public.

My local friends have no idea he is my love interest at home. To them, he’s simply the older guy who takes care of our yard, pool, and cars. Social distance can be a vast gulf. Our neighbors and my friends in Florida look through him as if he didn’t exist. He finds this all incredibly humbling, which is why we do it.

Besides acting as our handyman, Butler also works as a waiter at my tennis club and occasionally for a local caterer on the weekends. With both jobs he works about 30 hours a week. I like to keep him busy. We don’t really need his extra income but I enjoy taking his small checks and spending them on little luxuries for Heather and me. Service workers are paid so little that it barely covers our spa treatments and weekend dining.

Last night, Butler was working in his role as an employee of a local caterer. I carefully arranged it so that the company he works for was serving cocktails and food at the last party Heather and I would attend before leaving Florida. The man I have occasionally dated here owns a ridiculously large boat. I call this man Deep Pockets. I don’t have any real interest in him. He’s rich but not very interesting. He’s a little younger than Butler but he is not in particularly good shape. However, I knew he intimidated Butler because of his wealth.

At the party, Deep Pockets was flirting his ass off with me. I had finagled hard to make sure it was Butler who served drinks on the deck. As my date plied me with alcohol, Butler could do nothing but helplessly watch in his caterer’s uniform while holding a tray. It was just the kind of situation that really turns my crank. No one at the party except Heather knew that the older waiter was having his heart torn in two. I could feel his eyes on me as I flirted back with my date. I love the intrigue and tension it creates between Butler and me. I love the heat I feel from him when I arrange something like this.

Late in the party, Heather and I found ourselves sitting alone in the stern of the boat drinking our fourth (?) cocktail. She asked me how it was going. I admitted to her that I was trying but I couldn’t think of a way to sting Butler any more, on this last social occasion, other than screwing our host in front of him. (which, I had no interest in doing.) She listened for a minute and smiled.

About ten minutes later, Butler was coming down the steps from the pilot house with a loaded tray. I saw Heather sneak her foot out to trip him. Butler and about dozen drinks flew through the air and landed in a crash on the deck. Of course, Heather acted as if she was furious. I would never talk badly to a server but she does not have the same natural bridle on her tongue as I do. Somehow, other people don’t expect her to act much better. It’s like the rules that everyone else accepts don’t apply to her. Consequently, she gets away with being a bitch better than I ever could. (My girlfriend is a gangster!).

After a few well chosen snips at Butler’s clumsiness, she banished Butler to the galley. Next, she marched downstairs and told the caterer to fire Butler or make him apologize for his stupidity loud enough for Butler to uncomfortably listen. Oh boy, can she lay it on. Butler knew he couldn’t get fired or he would have to face real punishment from me so he had no choice but to humbly apologize to Mr Deep Pockets, the boat owner.

I watched this scenario unfold with growing interest. Of course, it was all completely unfair. Butler knew that Heather had purposefully tripped him but he could never admit to this. I moved closer and positioned myself so I could see and hear the conversation. Butler had no choice. I drank in Butler’s embarrassing and humbling apology to my date, while sipping my drink and getting more and more turned on.

Oh, it was exciting to see a man I knew to be successful and proud reduced to begging and groveling for his service job so he could please me. Butler had been betrayed, demoted, and humiliated. He was acutely aware it was all part of our devious plan. He saw the trouble we had gone through to set him up. The more complicated our schemes the more he feels loved and connected to me. I knew that this moment would create a deep submission in him. And, with that thought foremost in my mind, I realized that I was on fire! Driving Butler into sub space works overtime for me.

I didn’t know who to kiss first. Before the party ended, I kissed both Heather and the boat owner. Later at home, I allowed Butler to kiss my toes through my opened toed pumps while I reprimanded him for being so awkward at the party. I sat in a chair in the garden with him at my feet while I touched myself in front of him. He was placed purposefully very close to what he most craved but was still unreachable. Sexual contact for Butler is not allowed during the two months we are in Florida and he knew it. He seemed to want to kiss my feet for a long time. He’s sweet like that. Graciously, I allowed it.

His public social demotion is the most intense and exciting thing we have ever attempted. We never could have tried it years ago but this lifestyle has a tendency to pull a couple forward to richer and deeper experiences. I admit that I’m occasionally tempted to retire here and make his social demotion permanent. Teasingly, I tell him that more often than I really feel it Of course, he believes me. But, what can he do? Like me, he’s in too deep.