Year in the Life of a Slut Ch. 05: Apr

It had been another good weekend, although it felt very short to her. But then, it always did. No matter how much they crammed into a few days, the adrenaline of it kept her going until she got home and crashed.

This time they met in a southeastern coastal city where Spring had already sprung, staying in a hotel converted from an antebellum townhouse. He had flown in; she had driven -- her trip enlivened by the instructions he'd given her to wear a short skirt and her anal plug, and to stop and edge for him once every hour while she was enroute. Preferably at a truck stop.

She'd managed to find two. Walking through the parking lot in her short, clingy skirt and heels had been... interesting. Wearing that plug made her walk differently, she knew. Somehow her hips rolled more, was more inviting. She could feel eyes on her. It didn't take her long at those stops to edge.

As always, having an orgasm was strictly forbidden without permission. And although she'd texted him pics and begged for that permission, she would have been surprised if he'd granted it.

She thought about their dynamic during the drive. She'd grown used to his control. She nestled into it like a kitten in a blanket. It felt like a safe base from which to make those explorations into the world of dominance and submission. A starting point. And look how far she'd already come, she thought with a kind of amazement.

There had been no hiccups this month, no punishments needed for straying from his rules. Which isn't to say that he didn't push her boundaries. Wearing her plug to work, edging herself in public places, doing her housework while wearing nipple clamps, going shopping with a cock gag in her mouth hidden by a mask... it had all been an exhilarating ride that was only enhanced when she had to tell him about it afterwards, answering his humiliating questions at length, affirming what a little slut she was. His slut. Something that aroused her with desperate ferocity.

Those tasks he'd given her had a basis in the list she'd prepared for him when they were last together. But so far, he had only played around the outline of the things she had included on it. She'd had a sense that was about to change.

And she was right. As soon as she'd arrived and undressed for his inspection, he'd put her in her cuffs and the heavy collar he kept for her. Those tokens that somehow quieted the random noise and questions in her mind. He told her that she'd be spending a lot of time on her knees, serving him, over the weekend. Pulling her against him, he growled in her ear. "How wet does that make you, my needy little whore?"

She gave him an impish look, something she never would have done a few months ago. Sliding her eyes down, she replied demurely, "You know I'm dripping, Sir. You already checked."

That earned her a rough pinch on each nipple. He held onto them, and the steadily increasing pressure of his fingers made her move forward involuntarily. She took advantage of her proximity by rubbing herself shamelessly against his cock until he swore lightly under his breath, released her nipples, then roughly kissed her, bruising her soft lips.

He made good on his promise almost immediately. She found herself on her knees, his hard cock thrust down her throat. She felt the thrill of his possession when he pulled out and came on her face, ordering her to leave it there. Marking her as his. She must have moaned her delight, because when she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with that slight grin that didn't quite match the intensity in his eyes. "Someone's a little horny," he said. "Did you enjoy following your instructions? Edging for me in truck stops like the slut you are?"

She nodded, sinking into that feeling of submissiveness he was so good at teasing out of her. Especially when she was on her knees in front of him with his come dripping down her face and onto her chest. "Yes, Sir. Your slut enjoyed it."

"Good girl. And I enjoyed your begging and the photos of your desperate, dripping pussy." He paused for a moment, threading one hand through her hair and tugging on it. Then he said, "You're still wearing your plug, I see. Are you hoping I'll fuck you long and hard there, use you like the toy you are?"

She blushed; she couldn't help it. Waves of arousal shot through her with every word he said. "Please, Sir...," she said, knowing it was too soon to start begging but unable to stop herself. "Please. I'm so... desperate. I haven't come since... since Sunday, Sir."

He chuckled. "Tell me, little one. Tell me just how desperate you are. Tell me how you twist and turn in bed at night when you're edging yourself, dripping on your sheets, grinding your needy pussy on your pillow. How you have to stop, panting, before you take it too far. Because you're an obedient little slut. Aren't you?"

She whimpered slightly and nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'm your obedient little slut."

"If you're that close all the time, maybe I should deny you permission even to touch."

At her desperate moan, he chuckled again, then he studied her for a moment. As if making a decision, he nodded and reached down to loop his finger through the ring on her collar, forcing her to hands and knees as she followed closely beside him. He guided her toward the small loveseat in the window alcove of the room. Drawing aside the sheer curtain that afforded the room some privacy, he sat down, tugging her in front of him then releasing his hold on her.

She trembled slightly; she had a good idea where this was headed. It was an item from the list she'd written out for him: to be made to play with herself at a window where others could see her while he watched and directed her. He noted her dawning understanding with pleasure. Her reactions, when doing something like this -- something she wanted but found too humiliating to admit it -- were one of the things he enjoyed most about her. He loved watching her slip from embarrassment into sheer mindless arousal.

Her eyes were on his, pleading silently, as he said, "You were just begging me to let you touch yourself, pet. I've decided to grant your request. Now crawl up close to the window and face it. Closer. I want you almost touching the glass. Then lift up on your knees, as tall as you can." He waited while she positioned herself.

"That's it," he said. "You may edge for me. Rub yourself. Open those pussy lips and tease your needy clit. If anyone should look up, make sure they can see what a little whore you are -- unable to keep your hands off yourself."

She made a little sound of acknowledgement, her eyes darting quickly out the window and down. Just one glance, then she closed her eyes, not wanting to see more. Hoping no one would notice the slut in the window. She put her hands between her legs and spread herself wide, feeling her pussy twitch and become wetter even before she started to play with herself.

It was only mid-afternoon and still light outside, so he knew the chances of anyone being able to see anything more than her outline were slim. But she didn't need to know that. She was already lost in it, in the idea of being his possession, being under his control, obeying his commands. His lips curved in pleasure at the slight sway and arch of her body. He could tell when she'd stopped thinking about being seen and was focused only on her own need, her fingers slick with it.

He remained silent, watching her. In another couple of minutes she whimpered and said in a breathy voice, "Sir, I'm at the edge. May I... may I have permission to come?"

As if I wasn't keenly aware of her every twitch and movement, he said, "Oh, you're there already? Poor fucktoy, you really must be hard up." He paused, deliberately ignoring her request until he could see her hips slowly start to move on her fingers again. Then he stood and crossed the small space to stand behind her. Gripping the window frame with one hand, he used his knee to push her forward so that her body was pressed against the glass.

"Rub your pussy against the glass, pet," he murmured. "Let everyone see your slutty arousal spread on the glass."

She made a helpless little moan at his words, but she still hesitated for a moment. He pressed harder with his knee and watched her sink into submission, following his command. Wanting to drive her further, he reached down and toyed with the plug she still wore, pushing it farther inside her.

Her body tensed and froze. Desperately she cried out, "Sir... I can't stand it. I'm going to... please, let me come!"

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her quickly to her feet. "No. You will not come. Not without permission. Hold it back, slut. Obey me."

She struggled mightily, fighting down the almost irresistible urge to tumble off the edge and come. Her eyes tightly closed, nails digging into her palms, she shuddered. After a long moment the overpowering feeling retreated, and she relaxed. But only slightly. Her breathing still rasped out of her. A single touch anywhere might still break her resolve.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there. At some point his hands on her shoulders changed from a commanding grasp to a light, reassuring kneading. Finally she opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at her and released her slowly, his hands sliding down her arms, his fingers uncurling her fists and running over the deep indentations her nails had left in her palms.

He pulled her closer. His voice growled low against her ear. "Tell me. How did it feel, grinding your pussy against the window? Tell me what you are."

Her whole body shook with need. "Sir... you know I love being your filthy whore. Your needy little slut. And the thought of someone seeing me made me frantic. Please... I need to come so badly."

His hands stroked down her back, kneaded her ass. Then he released her, once again ignoring her request. "Let's go take a shower. I have something planned for us this evening. Something you'll enjoy."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, not sure how to read him. Did he have a further humiliation in mind, or did he really have something enjoyable planned for them? It would be pointless to ask him for details. She'd find out in due course.

Later, she smiled in amazed delight as he led her into the small performance hall. They'd eaten a casual dinner on the terrace of a restaurant facing the ocean, catching up with each other. After, he'd reached for her arm and guided her along the narrow streets until they reached this place. He'd tendered their tickets, and they were directed to enter.

The space had been transformed into a room from an Eastern palace, with a low dais draped in oriental carpets and pillows. Sweet-smelling garlands of flowers decorated the corners. Folding chairs were set up on three sides. In front of the chairs was another scattering of pillows for seating. They were invited to remove their shoes and find a place to sit. He nudged her toward the front, and she knew what he had in mind. Trying not to look self-conscious, she followed him down the short aisle and then sat on a cushion, folding her legs under her, while he sat on a chair just behind.

He leaned over and explained that tonight's event was a concert of Hindustani music, including some renowned artists. Music was an interest they both shared, and she had only recently become interested in Indian music. Her eyes shone up at him in appreciation. "This is wonderful. Thank you, Sir," she breathed.

His hand casually circled her neck as he leaned closer. "I'm glad you like it, little one. I'll expect you to keep your composure and enjoy the music... no matter what else is happening."

She felt a little quiver pass through her at the unmistakable erotic threat. Her mind pictured how, after their shower earlier, he had leaned her over the bathroom counter and inserted a new toy in her ass. One with a remote-controlled vibrator. He hadn't used it during dinner, giving her a break and affording them a chance to talk. But she suspected that her temporary respite was over.

She squirmed slightly, feeling the rope she wore around her waist and between her legs. He'd told her to wear it as well, wanting to keep her teased and never too far from that edge. Wrapped in his control.

"Be still," he warned her as the lights were lowered and the players came onto the dais and settled themselves. The music started quietly in a way that was almost meditative. Before long, those in the audience were swaying under its spell, necks tilting and hands moving with the flow of it.

She felt the vibrator start. Low and hypnotic, like the music, it became just another part of the sensory overload. As the music gradually grew in intensity, so did the vibrations. She reached a hand back and clutched at the hem of his pants, a small plea for mercy that went unanswered.

The room had perfect acoustics. By the end of the first half of the program, the vocalists' voices were skittering up and down the scale, improvising wildly within the framework of the music. She felt the wild energy internally as well, shifting her body uneasily in response despite his warning to remain still and keep her composure.

There was a brief intermission. Just in time, she thought thankfully. He helped her stand, and they walked closer to the stage to look at the instruments. His hand went around her back and slipped under her waistband, locating the rope that encircled her. His casual tug on it made her muffle a gasp, as a wave of arousal and need rocketed through her. Bringing his mouth close to her ear again, he said, "Perhaps we should step onto the stage. I could pluck you like an instrument, let everyone listen to your needy little sounds while I torture your clit."

She shifted against him, breathed out a reply, "Please... no, Sir. Not here. I'll be... good." He nodded and released the rope, though his arm remained around her to counter her unsteady legs. Soon enough they sat again and enjoyed the second half of the performance, despite the vibrator inside her steadily escalating its rhythm. She remained still, slowly becoming convinced that not being able to move only made the aching inside worse.

When the performance ended after several curtain calls, he helped her to her feet and they exited the venue. If anything her walk was even less steady. The new plug not only continued to vibrate, it also felt larger -- especially when she had to walk more than a few steps.

Before they headed out for the walk back to the hotel, she cast a longing look at the ladies' room. He shook his head and steered her outside. She sighed and tried to keep up, even though he was setting a pace she wasn't comfortable with. The toy inside her moved and shifted as she walked, making her clench it involuntarily, then gasp at the effect.

She felt more than heard Sir's low chuckle. "Does that feel good, little slut?" She wanted to glare at him, but was afraid of what that might prompt him to do. Instead she just kept walking, clutching his arm and fighting hard to control the urges sweeping through her. God, if all these people weren't around, she'd... she'd grind herself against one of those antique gaslight poles until she came like a mindless whore.

They made it back to the hotel, albeit at a significantly slower speed. She could tell that he was enjoying her reactions. How her eyes slowly glazed, how she bit her lip in concentration and leaned on him more and more, trying not to come. At one point she actually had to stop in her tracks, her fingers tightening convulsively on his forearm as she whispered, "Please... I can't..."

He watched her efforts to keep it together, half hoping she would fail so he could punish her. He considered increasing the vibrator speed but decided it would be unfair.

At the hotel, instead of heading back to their room, he pushed the elevator button for the rooftop terrace, telling her he wanted to have a drink and to enjoy the lovely view. The space wasn't crowded; there were only a handful of others scattered about. He steered her to a low-slung outdoor couch facing the water, settling her so close beside him that he could feel her jolt and indrawn breath when she sat down on the plug. He stifled his grin and asked her solicitously what she'd like to drink.

After they'd been served, he put an arm around her, keeping the cool evening breeze at bay. His fingers toyed with the buttons on her blouse, undoing a couple of them and teasing one finger around the edges of her lacy bra cups as she relaxed against him. She felt the vibrations ramp up again and sighed -- not unhappily. She'd slipped with barely a ripple into that mindset where nothing existed except her need and his control.

"Take off your bra," his voice insinuated itself into her thoughts. The words woke her from her haze. She became aware of where they were, and she looked around anxiously. She didn't think anyone could see them, but...

He pinched the tender skin of her breast at her hesitation. "Go on. Take it off. Another hesitation will earn you a punishment later."

Slowly and cautiously she inched her arms behind her, unhooking the bra. Then she slid the straps down her arms, finally pulling the scrap of material out through her sleeve and shoving it under her hip to hide it. Her shyness was intoxicating -- up to a point. But he wanted more from her tonight. He reached for the bra and folded it, then set it on the table beside their drinks. The color in her cheeks grew.

Angling her toward him, he undid another button, reaching inside her gauzy blouse to grasp her breast firmly. She gave a tiny squeak of surprise as he kneaded it, then ran a fingernail over her stiffening nipple.

"Such an eager little slut for my touch, aren't you, pet? Put your hands under those tits. Hold them up for me."

Soundlessly she complied. When he saw her eyes darting around nervously, he ordered her to keep them lowered, to watch his hands as he continued playing with her breasts. When she arched toward him, he pinched her and commented, "Your nipples are so hard. My little slut likes this." Her eyes closed, but she nodded her agreement.

"Tell me. Tell me how much you enjoy being on display, like a dirty whore, for your master." His voice was low but insistent.

Without looking up, she murmured, "I-I love being displayed like this, Sir. I'm just your possession, your property. Yours to use..." her voice trailed off with a little sigh.

After a bit he picked up his drink and took a long sip, watching her with satisfaction. Her body trembled finely, including her breasts. As if he was merely giving her a casual caress, he reached out a hand and parted her blouse to frame her naked breasts, pale in the dim moonlight.

She lifted her eyes to his, startled. She stared at him in agonized humiliation and arousal as he continued to watch her without talking, sipping his drink from time to time. She didn't know how long they sat there, but the breeze off the water became chilly. She hardly noticed it, she was simply a ball of need, her muscles and nerves and swollen tissues all begging silently for release.

Finally he led her back to their room, after allowing her to tuck her breasts back inside her blouse -- but not to button it or put her bra back on. She was relieved that they didn't encounter anyone else using the elevator.

Once in the hotel room, he gagged her and bent her over the bed, making her wait like that while he checked his emails and then slowly undressed. She couldn't stop herself from writhing against the sheets, grinding her pussy on the mattress while he showered, seeking relief from her torment. She was almost desperate enough to touch herself and risk his punishment, but she couldn't quite bring herself to disobey.

When he came to her, warm and clean and slightly damp from the shower, he lifted her hips up with his hands and slid his cock into her slick pussy with a low groan, fucking her hard while she still wore her plug. She felt stretched to the limit. Screaming into her gag, she came so many times that they both lost count, the last time after he'd come forcefully inside her, then pulled out and finished, jetting his cum on her spread thighs.

She sighed, feeling wonderfully, thoroughly used. His possession. His little slut. At some point, she roused slightly as he removed her plug, cleaned her, and then got them both into bed. She snuggled to his side then slipped into a deep, satisfied sleep.

The next morning was a lazy one. When she woke, he was wrapped around her, his hard cock jutting into her thigh. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him, turning herself so that her face was just inches from his erection. She studied it, memorizing its shape, its girth, its contours. Barely breathing, she touched the tip of her tongue to the end of it and licked gently, before running it down the length of him, to the curly nose-tickling hairs at the place where cock joined body. She gently cupped his balls with one hand, lifting them slightly so she could reach them with her questing tongue. She could smell and taste the mingled arousal of both of them from last night.

He stirred then, waking up slowly. Her ministrations became more enthusiastic, her mouth teasing over the hard length of him, tongue lapping at him, worshipping his cock with little satisfied moans. Taking her time until his hands curled into her hair, urging her to do more.

She opened her mouth, letting him push inside her, taking possession. She felt her pussy clench, making her aware of her own waking arousal. He withdrew and then pushed in again while she swirled her tongue on the underside of his cock. Then he took control completely. All she could do was hold on to his thigh with one hand while she took his hard thrusts. Until, grasping her hair tightly, he came down her throat.

He made her hold his cum in her mouth while she showered, only letting her swallow it when their breakfast arrived. She kneeled at his feet and let him feed her pieces of fruit and bites of delicious scrambled eggs and bacon. Afterwards, she remained on the floor next to him, reading her Kindle while he checked emails and surfed the net. Occasionally he reached down and ran a hand through her hair. Being there gave her an indescribable feeling -- not just arousal, although that was part of it. But also comfort, security, a feeling that all was right in her world.

Afterwards they went for another walk around the charming historic city. He hadn't made her wear a plug today; in truth, he knew she was a little sore and wanted to give her a chance to recover so that he wouldn't have to change his plans for the evening. Breakfast had been late and filling enough to allow them to skip lunch, although they stopped in the local market to try some fish tacos.

As they wound their leisurely way back to the hotel, Sir stopped in front of a store. Following his gaze, she realized it was an adult toy store. Before she had a chance to react, he was guiding her inside, his hand holding her wrist firmly. She glanced around; places like this always seemed a bit seedy. But with Sir next to her, there was no reason to worry. Except about what he might decide to buy.

He prowled the aisles slowly, like a connoisseur seeking out the new and titillating. It seemed they were the only ones in the store other than the man at the cash register who paid them no attention at all. With a wicked smile, he picked up an oblong paddle made of stiff leather and showed it to her. On the surface, in reversed and recessed block letters, was the word "SLUT".

"I've always wanted to try one of these," he said speculatively, his eyes darkening. "I'm imagining how your reddened ass would look after I used this on you. Marked as my slut. What do you think?"

She knew he could tell the idea turned her on. With a wink, he tucked it under one arm as they continued exploring. Next up was the dildo aisle. She'd had no idea there were so many variables -- sizes, shapes, even colors. Then something different caught her eye. There was a large display in the center of the aisle of an item called a "pussy plug" -- what?

Without thinking, she ambled over to the display and picked one up, reading the details. Of course, Sir was right behind her, reading over her shoulder even as his hand dipped down under the front of her waistband to rest between her legs. "Hmmm," his voice rumbled in her ear, "Is my little whore interested in having her pussy stuffed full all day?"

Before she could answer, the employee behind the counter, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation, chimed in. "Those are new and selling faster than we can stock 'em. Women seem to love them." His eyes studied them without curiosity, dropping to where Sir's hand was stroking her. He looked like he'd seen it all. And then some.

It did sound... interesting, she thought, as she squirmed against Sir's hand, cheeks heating under the man's gaze. Her reaction was enough to convince Sir. He added it to the paddle and stepped to the counter to pay. The man rang up the items, laconically mentioning to Sir that the SLUT paddle only worked well when used with force. Sir grinned, and thanked him, saying "That won't be a problem."

On their return to the hotel, he wanted to try out the paddle right away. He positioned her over the loveseat so that she could use her hands to brace herself on the seat cushion. He ran his hands possessively over her ass. Her skin was perfect for it, pale and unmarked. He warmed her up first with a light hand spanking, then had her remain where she was, bent over, while the rosy color on her ass died down. Meanwhile he went into the bathroom and returned with her small anal plug. She couldn't resist a naughty little wiggle as he pressed it against her.

Once the plug was in place, he let his hand dip deeper between her legs while he leaned over her to whisper roughly, "I want you completely still, no matter how good that plug feels when I spank your ass. I can feel how wet you are already."

Before she had a chance to react, he straightened and gave her a couple of hard wallops with the new paddle. She yelped in surprise at the fiery pain. He stopped to admire his handiwork, taking photos on his phone so she could see the SLUT brand on each ass cheek. While she looked at them, he pushed her legs farther apart and fingered her roughly.

"Such a good little slut," he said teasingly, "It seems you like this. Do you need more?"

She mumbled something unintelligible, and he pinched her thigh. "What's that, pet? I can't hear you. Ask politely."

She squirmed from the pinch, then said, "Please, Sir. I would like more. But... not so much that I can't sit down later."

He laughed and ran a hand over her ass. "Silly girl, do you think you make any of the decisions here? I'll give you what I think you can take."

She gave a little moan of surrender at his words, and he used the paddle to good effect until the tears were running down her face. But he kept a careful eye on her -- her skin was delicate, and she wasn't used to a hard paddling. When he judged she'd had enough, he stopped. Then he undid his fly and pulled out his stiffening cock, rubbing it over her warm, reddened flesh. She gave a different kind of moan, making him harden even more.

He ran his hand through her hair, grabbing hold of it and pulling her head up. "Beg me," he said hoarsely. "Tell me what you want."

She arched and lifted her hips at his words and replied. "Please... please fuck your little whore, Sir. I want... I want your cock inside me. Make me your fucktoy, Sir."

He took in the sight of her -- bent over and spread, ass reddened -- as she continued to beg him. His hand moved slowly on his cock as he considered her request. He could walk around in front of her and use her mouth. To her credit, he knew she'd be happy with whatever he decided. He grinned, because what he had decided was that he'd grant her request without giving her an opportunity to come again just yet.

He moved close behind her, so close that a drop of his pre-cum landed on her ass. He removed the plug. He'd lubed it so well that he could slide his cock inside her -- well, if not easily, then without pain.

When he was inside her, he whispered, "There, my good little fucktoy. Clamp down on me now. Show me how much you want to please me, pet."

She groaned at the feel of him. When he started to withdraw, she clamped down. His cock was much larger than the plug she'd used. So much so that his thrusts triggered nerves that fed her arousal, short-circuiting the usual pathways. Each time he pushed in she lifted to him with an urgency that surprised both of them.

With an effort he said, "You're not going to come, are you? I didn't think you were... quite ready to be my anal slut yet."

She held on to the edge of the cushion for dear life against his thrusts. Panting with each one. She lifted her head and tried to reply. "No Sir... not... going to come. But I'm close. Just... touch my clit, Sir. Please. Let your slut come."

It was her desperate begging that pushed him over the edge. As he'd intended, he pulled out of her and sprayed his cum on her ass, overwriting her SLUT brands with his own personal autograph. The thought of it amused him.

Afterwards he let her curl at his feet again, her head resting on his knee, while he did a few things online. The pain from her spanking and her aching need to come slowly transformed into a sort of warm, golden glow that covered her like a soft blanket. It felt like she had honey moving sluggishly through her veins rather than blood. Even her vision was tinged with gold as she curled around his leg, one hand on his calf. Or was it the golden reflected glow from the sunset?

Soon it was time for dinner. He'd made a reservation for a well-recommended local place that was in walking distance from their hotel. Her shower revived her somewhat, and she felt hungry in more ways than one as the warm water trickled over her body.

All the same, for the first time he noted a mutinous look in her eye as she saw what he'd laid out for her to wear. Her hands went to her hips as she stood staring at the items on the bed. Her shortest black skirt in a clingy knit, paired with a tight red top that practically screamed hookerville. She'd brought them thinking she might wear them if they went to a club, or if he wanted her to dress up for some scene in the hotel room. Not for a nice dinner.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Her lips tightened. Next to the clothes were sheer black thigh-high hose and her black heels. And next to them were the vibrating plug she'd worn last night and her favorite, life-like dildo. She turned to him, consternation in her eyes. "Sir... really?" she said, managing to choke back her more candid initial response of "Hell no!"

He wanted to laugh at her little rebellion -- after all the other things they'd done -- but instead he stood up and gave her a severe look. "You have a problem with the clothes I've chosen for you?" he asked silkily.

She tried to backtrack and be diplomatic. "Ahh... it's just not me, Sir. Not what I'd consider wearing to a nice restaurant for dinner." She tried a smile. "My mother would kill me."

He stepped behind her, taking hold of her shoulders and turning her to face the bed again. "Fortunately, I'm not your mother. I'm your dom, and I want to see you in these clothes at dinner. You have 15 minutes to get dressed."

He turned to walk out of the bedroom, but she clutched at his hand. "Sir, please. How do you expect me to walk if I'm wearing both of those?" She pointed to the plug and the dildo. It was a fair point. She'd had enough difficulty the night before wearing only the plug.

After a moment's consideration he said, "You may wear just the plug to the restaurant." As she started to relax, he added, "But bring the dildo in your purse. You can put it in after we get there."

She sat down on the bed and shot him a look. Then exhaled with obvious discontent and muttered, "Might as well just have me wear a chastity belt with those two stuffed inside me and call it a day."

His eyes held hers in a veiled threat. "Careful what you wish for, pet. And you'll get a punishment for that little show of temper later, once I decide what's appropriate. Now, get dressed. You're down to 13 minutes."

She rushed to get ready, not wanting to push him further. At least, thank the gods, he liked having her wear panties. She already felt guilty for her earlier behavior. She supposed it could be chalked down to the continuous, frustrating ache between her legs. Although, as she reminded herself, he'd been generous enough with her orgasms last night.

She was ready with two minutes to spare. Walking out of the bedroom to meet him, she kept her eyes down and murmured, "Ready, Sir." Of course, he insisted on thoroughly examining her -- humiliatingly so -- even checking that she was wearing the plug and looking in her purse to make sure she had the dildo.

His calm demeanor didn't hide his annoyance. As they walked to the restaurant in silence, she began to worry that he would find new ways to humiliate her during dinner as her punishment. But when they arrived, he was all smiles as they were seated and given menus to peruse. She took her seat carefully, her sore bottom and the toy inside her reminding her of his possession.

She dared a quick look around the room. As she'd feared, her outfit was wildly out of place, but she made a determined effort to put it out of her mind and enjoy the evening. They discussed what looked good on the menu, and Sir ordered martinis for both of them, which surprised her.

As soon as he'd ordered their food and the menus were surrendered, his full attention turned back to her. She felt the vibrator come to life inside her. There was no gentle easing into it as there had been last night. He'd obviously spent some of that computer time this afternoon searching for and downloading some supercharged patterns for her toy. She felt a flush spread up her chest to her face as she fought to maintain her composure.

His lips curved up as he watched her efforts to appear normal. His little slut was going to be in for one hell of a dining experience. He intended to tease her throughout the meal. Thank goodness she didn't seem able to manage an orgasm from this kind of stimulation... yet.

Bread appeared on their table, delicious little corn muffins studded with bits of red pepper. She picked one up and began to butter it, just as the vibrator kicked up another notch. Or two. The shock made her drop the muffin, which tumbled onto the floor. She looked at him guiltily, their eyes locking.

In a low, commanding voice he said, "Get down there on your hands and knees, and pick it up. The server shouldn't have extra work to do because my slut is clumsy."

A little anxious the edge in his words, she did as she was told, getting on her knees to retrieve the muffin from under the table, not realizing that she was giving a prime view of her panty-covered ass to the table behind her. He hid his smile as she got back onto her feet and resumed her seat, putting the muffin down next to her bread plate.

She stared at it without really seeing it. Her focus was inward, where the humiliation of her predicament and her arousal were combining into a powerful brew that affected mind and body alike.

Feeling a sudden tenderness, he reached out and circled her wrist. His eyes traveled over her as he said quietly, "All right, pet? You know what to do if it's too much..." He let the words hang in the air.

She smiled back at him, letting his concern reassure her. And it did. She knew he'd only push her as far as she let him. Only to the point where they were both still enjoying it. She moved her hand in his and scraped her nail provocatively against his palm as she whispered. "I'm all right, Sir. Desperate, but all right."

He chuckled, pleased and slightly relieved that she was willing to continue. He let the vibrator remain at a constant speed while they enjoyed their salads. When the dishes were cleared, however, he motioned with his head toward her purse. "Get out the dildo and set it on your lap," he said calmly, as if telling her to pass him the butter. "Keep your hand on it."

She unzipped her purse and, as unobtrusively as she could, followed his order. When the dildo was in her lap, she nodded at him.

"Good girl. Now stroke and rub it with your hand, as if it's my cock. Worship it like the cockslut you are."

She nodded and breathed, "Yes, Sir." Her hand was already caressing the toy, if truth be told. She let her mind drift back to this morning, in bed. Worshipping his cock. Then a sudden thought struck her. Was he going to... surely he wouldn't... make her lift it up, put it in her mouth in full view of everyone?

As if he could follow her thoughts, he chuckled again, edging the vibrator up another notch. Unconsciously, her body undulated in response, a sight that made his cock stir. From the corner of his eye he saw a server bringing their entrees and he murmured, "Our food is on the way. Don't stop what you're doing or try to hide it, little slut."

She nodded, swallowing her anxiety. She even leaned back slightly so as not to obstruct the view should their server chance to look down into her lap. Luckily, he didn't, merely setting her plate down and departing. Her eyes returned to Sir, waiting for his next instruction as she expelled the breath she'd been holding in relief.

He smiled his approval. "Now put it between your legs so the tip is rubbing against your panties. Hold it there with your thighs while you eat. Rub yourself on it like a good little whore begging for cock."

Ahh... she relaxed slightly. She could do that. In fact, her body wanted to do that.

He'd ordered the shrimp and grits for both of them. It was supposed to be delicious, but she couldn't focus on her food. All she could think about was the dildo between her legs and the plug vibrating away in her ass. She almost laughed hysterically -- maybe it was a good thing that they only saw each other once a month. She might die of an excess of pleasure otherwise. Or starvation.

He watched her eat a few bites very carefully, wary of the vibrator and not wanting to drop anything else or cause a scene. Her growing arousal was evident in her softly parted lips, her heavy-lidded eyes. He let her drift comfortably for a bit while he finished his entrée and she picked at hers, then he decided it was time for another push.

Their server came to pick up their plates, frowning at her unfinished one, and left a dessert menu with Sir at his request. He scanned it, but as soon as they were alone again, he laid it down and leaned forward. With a wicked grin he said, "I'm tempted to have you push those wet panties out of the way, spread your legs, and shove that dildo into your dripping pussy while sitting right there."

Her lip trembled until she clamped her teeth on it. No... god, no... there was no way she'd be able to do that without someone noticing them. Noticing her. She cleared her throat, prepared to beg him as desperately as she'd ever begged for anything, but he held up a hand before she could open her mouth.

"However, I thought better of it. Aside from that small lapse earlier, you've been very obedient tonight. So you may go to the bathroom and put it inside you there, before returning to the table."

Her brain scrambled, trying to work out how that could work. How she could walk like that. Both holes stuffed. She swallowed nervously. Maybe if she was still, if she begged with her eyes, he'd change his mind. But he just leaned back expectantly.

"B-But Sir," she finally stuttered. "How can I... it's not possible... surely?"

He waved a hand at her. "Silly girl. Of course it's possible. I'm sure you'll figure it out. Go on, I'm not in the mood for hesitations. I don't want to wait around all night."

Slowly she picked up her purse and set it on her lap. She was just about to unzip it when his voice crackled at her. "What are you doing? I said to get moving."

She looked up, confused. "I am. I'm just putting it in my bag, before I -- "

"I didn't say you could use your purse. Carry it in your hand, pet."

She gulped, then nodded and got to her feet. He continued to watch her closely. Holding the dildo to the inside of her arm, she walked to the restrooms in the back, through the full dining room. No one seemed to notice. They were all intent on their own lives, as he'd expected.

He ordered a dessert to split, hardly caring what it was. All his attention was focused on the restroom door, anticipating her return. He didn't have to wait long. Her steps were halting, though it was obvious that she was trying not to attract any attention. There was a definite hitch in her walk. He smiled, knowing the cause. All of her muscles and the entire focus of her formidable will were being used to keep that dildo in place.

At last she made it back to the table, where she took her seat gingerly. He lifted his water goblet toward her in a mock salute. "Well done, little one. My brave and determined girl."

She basked in his approval, but part of her attention remained fixed on the feeling between her legs. He quickly cycled the vibrator back to the original pattern, watching as a mottled flush crept up her chest, revealed by her low-cut shirt. She sat up straight and stared at him, panic in her eyes. Too late, she realized her predicament. When it had just been the plug teasing her, there was no way that she'd tip over from arousal to orgasm. But now...

Her eyes widened. Helplessly her hips shifted on the toys inside her even as she tried to remain still, to avoid any increase in their stimulation. Her lips parted in a silent plea not to let it happen. He watched her carefully, reading her body language, looking for any sign that he should halt things. She knew he would stop if she said the word.

She didn't.

Instead, her body tensed and tightened like a bowstring. Under his fascinated gaze she moved her hands to the edge of the table, gripping it until her knuckles were white. Only at the very last minute did she close her eyes, when a small convulsion ran through her body from bottom to top. Then she exhaled, just a tiny breath, but one that somehow conveyed her intense release.

Emotions flooded through him. Desire for her, of course. But also approval, and a kind of awe at her bravery. And possessiveness -- he didn't want anyone else to see her like this. He wanted to get them both out of here, get them back to the hotel. Get her in bed and take her, use her hard.

But for the moment he waited quietly until she opened her eyes. Then he took her hand and squeezed it, whispered, "Give me a minute. I'm going to settle the bill and take you home." She looked at him uncomprehendingly. His words hardly made sense. But she trusted him to take care of her, so she nodded.

He pushed aside the untasted dessert and rose. Went to the cashier and paid, then returned to the table, hovering over her. "Can you get up? Can you walk?"

She blushed, murmured, "I think so... But Sir, I can't... can't walk back without -- "

He helped her to her feet. "It's only a few yards. I ordered a taxi. It'll be out front in a moment."

The rest of the evening was a haze to her. She remembered him helping her outside and into the taxi. Somehow, they managed to get back to the hotel room. He soothed her and praised her, teased her and roused her again. Fucked her until they were both unable to move. Then she lay on the couch, over his lap, while they watched some nameless movie together. His hands absently plucked at her nipples, keeping her present and on edge when all she wanted was to float away.

Finally they lay in bed together. He wrapped around her, her back against his chest, his arm around her waist. He thought she was asleep, then she mumbled something into the pillow.

"What did you say, pet?"

She lifted her head slightly, "Sir, what about my punishment?"

He tugged at her hair gently and said, "You were such a good girl tonight. I think we can dispense with punishment this time." He paused, considering. "Unless you feel you deserve it."

She yawned like a kitten, then rubbed her ass against his groin. The soreness from her spanking was a distant memory. A good one. He heard a faint giggle. "Maybe I do."

He reached around and pinched her nipple. "Behave yourself, slut. I'll sleep on it. Until I decide, you'd better be on your best behavior."

Her voice drifted back to him. "I always am, Sir."