She slid carefully into the car. She sat erect and still, with her

thighs slightly tensed. I put the car in reverse and backed out of our

parking spot. I drove slowly through the parking lot, watching as she

braced and pushed herself up off the seat for each speed bump. After a

few moments, she reached down and pulled her skirt from under her fanny,

placing her bare bottom on the vinyl seat. She spread the skirt

carefully around her legs. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "I know O was

required to sit like that. But I haven't . . . " She laughed. "Oh. No,

Master. O has nothing to do with it. I don't want to get my skirt wet."

"You don't want to get your skirt wet. What about the car seat?" "I

won't be walking around wearing the car seat. Besides, it'll wipe clean.

I wouldn't want to embarrass you, Master." "You wouldn't want to

embarrass yourself, you mean, slave."

"That too, Master." She shifted slightly on the seat. "It's going to be

nearly impossible for me to keep from cumming, Master, even without that

thing turned on." "Don't you dare cum without permission."

"No, Master. Of course not, Master." She paused and said softly, "I'll

try, Master." I pulled into traffic and drove on into the city.

Our first stop was a downtown department store. I parked at the curb

about a block away. She opened her door, and stepped out onto the curb,

carefully brushing down her skirt behind her as she stood. We walked

hand in hand toward the store. She glanced around her nervously,

furtively. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I feel like everybody's watching

me, " she said, glancing over her shoulder. "Like they all know what's

under this skirt." "I don't think anybody can tell. But then, who

knows?" "Master, that doesn't help."

"No? Well, assume that they can tell. Imagine that everyone we pass

knows there's a dildo in your pussy and a plug in your ass. Imagine that

they all know that your Master can flip a switch to turn on that

vibrator that's pressed up against your clit." "Oooo, Master. You're

going to make me cum. You know these things move. I'm being fucked with

every step I take." "I'm glad to hear it, slut. But remember what I said

about cumming without permission." "I'm trying, Master. It's . . . just

. . . not . . . easy." Her pace slowed. She faltered slightly and pulled

back against my arm. "Oh. Master!" She stopped completely, then squeezed

her legs together. Her lips pursed and her jaw clenched. She closed her

eyes, took a deep breath and let out a very long sigh. "That's one," I

said. "All will be punished."

"That's not fair, Master. You fix me up like this and you're going to

punish me for doing what it's intended to make me do." "It's not

supposed to be fair. You need to learn some control. I could turn that

vibrator on and just let it run." I pulled her close and held the switch

at her waist. "Please, no, Master" "What was that?" I asked, sternly.

"Of course, Master. Turn it on if it pleases you, Master." "Not now, I

don't think." I started walking again, linking my elbow through hers.

"Come on." "Yes, Master."

I stopped in just in front of the store's front doors and waited. She

looked up at me, puzzled. "The door, slave," I said softly.

"Me?" "Yes, you." She opened the door and held it as I passed, then

followed behind me. She hurried ahead of me to open and hold the

interior vestibule door as well. We stopped in the open space in front

of the first cosmetics counter. "I'm going to the hardware department,"

I told her. "I want you to get a pair of black elbow length gloves.

Here." I took out my wallet and handed her some bills. "That should

cover it. Meet me in the women's shoe department. Go." I watched her

walk away from me. Her bonds and her shoes did wonderful things for her

posture. Her walk was very smooth and very erect, and with a swing in

her hips that made me want to jump on her right there in the store.

I bought 100 feet of three-sixteenths inch nylon cord and a couple snap

swivels. That took about five minutes. I spent another ten minutes

looking at power tools that I had no interest in. I wanted to make sure

she was in the shoe department long enough for a sales clerk to find her

before I arrived. I rode the escalator back up to the main floor and

found the women's shoe department. She stood with her back to me, slowly

shaking her head as she talked to a female clerk. The clerk, a petite

blonde, about thirty years old had started to turn away as I approached.

I grasped my slave's arm before I spoke. She tensed slightly at my

touch. "Are you having trouble, dear?" I asked, looking straight into

her eyes. I never called her "dear". "I'm sorry," she said, "but I

forgot what I was supposed to be looking for." She glared back at me.

"The pumps, dear. For the Burkhart's party." We didn't know anyone named

Burkhart. "I think you need something in black, with high heels. To go

with that black satin outfit." The only black satin outfit she had was a

corset and the gloves she'd just bought. "Of course. How could I have

forgotten?" She put on her best darling wife voice. She whispered in my

ear, "I hope you think this is worth it. I am not amused." "I think we

have something right over here," the clerk said, leading us to a display

stand. "Did you have something like this in mind?" She pointed to a pair

of pointed-toed suede pumps with three inch heels. "How about something

more like those?" I asked, pointing at the most extreme pair in the

display. They were patent leather, open-toed and had spike heels about

4" high. Each had a strap that buckled across the instep and one around

the ankle. The clerk gave my slave a puzzled look, apparently not

expecting me to have completely taken over the exchange. "Your size?"

"Six and a half B," she said. The clerk pointed to a row of chairs.

"Have a seat over here and I'll see if we have them in your size." She

disappeared into the stock room. My slave stood motionless, fists

clenched. "Do you think I'm going to wear those?" "Yes I do," I answered

flatly. "Now sit like the women asked."

"Ooooooo." "Sit, slut." "Yes, Master." She perched herself carefully on

the edge of a chair. I could see that she clenched her bottom and thigh

muscles to keep her weight off the plugs in her ass and pussy. She

slowly leaned over, unbuckled and removed her sandals. The clerk quickly

returned with an open shoe box. She pulled up a little shoe fitting

stool and sat in front of my slave. The clerk pulled the left shoe from

the box "Let's see if this fits," she said. The slave planted her right

foot on the floor and swung her left foot toward the inclined front of

the stool, carefully keeping her knees close together. "There you go,"

said the clerk cheerfully as she fastened the second buckle.

She pulled the second shoe from its box. "Let's get the other one on

you." Her left leg swung down and planted on toe and spiked heel. The

right leg swung up and slid onto the stool front. Her hand grasping the

arm of the chair trembled slightly. The clerk fitted and buckled the

second shoe. "Okay," she said, standing and sliding the stool back.

"Walk around a little and see how they feel." Setting her feet side by

side, my slave pushed herself up with her hands on the chair's arms. She

stood with slight unsteadiness, then took a cautious step. "Tolerable,"

she said. And took a few more steps away from the chair.

"Walk around a little," I said. "Make sure they fit okay." She walked

around the display stand. On the far side, she stopped and turned to

face me. She leaned on the display stand, clutched its edge and closed

her eyes. "Are you all right?" the clerk asked.

My slave stood perfectly still for a few seconds, a clenched look of

either pain or ecstasy on her face. She slowly opened her eyes. "Oh, oh.

Sorry. I'm fine. Just a little out of it today." "How are the shoes,

dear?" I asked. I held up two fingers and smiled. "The shoes. Oh. Yes.

They fit. They're as comfortable as heels like this ever get." She

nodded slowly, looking at my raised hand. I turned to the clerk. "We'll

take them."

She tucked the shoe box under her arm as we left the store. I said, "I

really wasn't expecting that, you know." "The hell you weren't," she

responded. "You fix me up like this and then make me parade around

modeling a pair of spike heeled fuck-me pumps. What the hell do you

expect?" "Let's say you're a little more sensitive than I expected." "A

little more sensitive, huh? It's a struggle not to cum every time I take

a step." "Glad to hear it. If you keep this up, you're in for some

serious punishment tonight." "If you just don't distract me, or

stimulate me too much, I think I'll be all right." "I'll be all right .

. . ?" "I think I'll be all right, Master."

"Better. You're getting a bit loose with your words." "I'm sorry,

Master." She bowed her head. "Please forgive me, Master." "Apology

accepted, slut. Just pay more attention in the future." "I will, Master.

Thank you, Master." We had reached the car. I unlocked and opened her

door, then walked around to the driver's side and got in. As I sat down,

She again slid her skirt from under her, to place her bare bottom on the

car's vinyl seat. She fastened her seat belt and sat very still and

erect. As we pulled away from the curb, she asked, "May I ask a

question, Master?" "Yes, slut, you may."

"What is to be my punishment for cumming without permission, Master?" "I

won't answer that," I said. "I will say this: you'll get a half hour for

each time you cum before we get home. It may be anything you could

imagine." "Please, Master," she whined. "I can imagine an awful lot."

"I'm sure you can, but if you don't stop whining, you're going to be in

serious trouble. " "I'm sorry, Master. It's just that I can barely

breathe without having to suppress an orgasm. Please forgive me,

Master." "Slut, you wouldn't need so much forgiveness if you'd keep your

mouth shut." "No, Master. I wouldn't." "Look in the glove compartment.

There should be a golf ball in there." "A golf ball?" She turned the

latch that dropped the glove box open. I glanced at her sternly and

slapped her thigh.

"Ow. Yes Master. A golf ball." She rummaged through the pile of maps and

pressure gauges. "Here it is," she said, "in the back." She held it up

for me to see. "Put it in your mouth."

"But, Master, I'll . . . " "Now." "Yes, Master. If it pleases you,

Master." She popped the little dimpled ball into her mouth.

"Any complaints?" I asked, taunting her. "Nhhunnhunnh." She shook her

head. "We have two more stops," I said. "We're going on a picnic

tomorrow, and we need to get some supplies." She looked over at me and

smiled.

"We're going to the crafts shop first, though. We need to make something

special for you." "Hnnnh?" She looked puzzled.

"Leather," was all I said.

The crafts shop was in a strip center on the way back toward the

apartment. I parked at the sidewalk right in front of the store. She

reached up to take the golf ball from her mouth. "No," I said.

"Hnnh?" "No. Leave it in." She pounded her fists against her legs and

let out a sharp breath. She scowled. Then she slowly nodded. She opened

her door and carefully stood up, brushing down her skirt behind her.

This time she automatically stepped ahead of me to open the front door.

The shopkeeper behind his front counter gave us a quizzical look, but

said nothing. She followed me across the small store and back into a

narrow aisle. Half way back we entered the leather goods section. I

slowed to scan the shelves. We were out of sight of the man at the front

counter. "I think black would be nice," I said. "How about you?"

"Hnnnh?" She shrugged. "Or something a bit bolder maybe. Red or white?"

She crinkled her nose and shook her head slowly. She looked puzzled. She

had no idea what I had in mind. "Black then. We'll need a one inch

strip, like a belt, not quite three feet long. A stiff piece of leather,

oh, eight inches by three inches. And a roller buckle. I'll wait right

here while you find them." She found the leather strip easily. A variety

of colors, widths and lengths of strips were displayed hanging from pegs

for making belts. She pulled a chrome buckle from a bin next to the belt

display. "Hnnhh, hhnnnh?" She held the strip and buckle out to me. "Just

what we need," I said, taking them from her. "I think there are some odd

pieces in those bins down there." I pointed under the bottom shelf. She

leaned over and pulled the nearest plastic bin out into the aisle. She

reached down into the bin, sifting through different sizes, shapes and

colors of leather pieces. Her skirt rode up behind her, threatening to

expose her ass and the strap through it. "Looks good from here, " I

taunted.

"Hnnnnnhh." That was definitely a complaint. She crouched down and

continued to sift through the bin. Now her skirt, partly unbuttoned as

it was, started to fall away in front. Finally, she knelt beside the

bin. In moments, her hand came up with a small piece of black material.

I took it from her, then dropped it back in the bin. "Too soft," I said.

"We need something much stiffer." She shook her head slowly, pushed the

first bin back under its shelf and pulled out the second one. "I didn't

know it would be this easy to get you on your knees in public, " I said.

"You look quite the slave girl there, shuffling around in the floor."

She looked straight into my eyes and very slowly nodded. The muscles in

her face strained and her hands shook slightly. She was trying as hard

as she could to put off another orgasm. Then something broke. The strain

fled from her face and her hands dropped limp at her sides. Her head

rolled forward and she was totally motionless for a minute or two. She

looked back up at me and a broad smile spread across her face. I saw a

tiny sliver of dimpled ball behind her parted lips and teeth. She slowly

raised her hand and lifted three fingers.

I smiled and nodded slowly. "Three," I said. Her head again rocked down

onto her chest. Her body shuddered once, twice, three times. Her little

finger rose to join the others. She looked up again, her smile even

broader. "Four?" I asked. "You amaze me."

She nodded once, then shook her head wildly, swinging her hair in a

cloud around her shoulders. Reaching back into the bin, she immediately

pulled out a piece of stiff black leather. Its shape was irregular,

about a foot long by four inches wide. "Perfect." I said. "Come along.

Bring it."

She slid the bin under its shelf and struggled to her feet, clutching

her find in one hand. Her face was slightly flushed. Tiny beads of sweat

made her neck, cheeks and forehead glisten. She stood behind me at the

checkout while I paid for our purchases. I handed her the bag. She took

it and held the door for me as we left the store.

Once we were out on the highway, I told her she could remove the golf

ball from her mouth. She did so eagerly and dropped it back in the glove

compartment. "What happened in there?" I asked.

"I stopped trying to fight it. Fighting it wasn't doing much good

anyway." "Is that all?" "I was imagining what the guy at the counter was

thinking. That was about the most humiliating thing you've ever done to

me, Master. " She looked away, out the window, and then back at me. A

lopsided grin crossed her face. "I still can't believe how much it

turned . . . turns me on." "I'm glad you're having a good time. You came

twice that quickly?" "Yes, Master.

Once. And again and . . . Master, it hasn't really stopped. It . . . I .

. Master . . . if you touch me . . . I think I'll . . . " I dropped my

right hand off the steering wheel and onto her leg. I slowly slid my

fingers up her thigh, stopping only when they reached the strap that

parted her pussy. I brushed my fingertips lightly along the strap and

across the wings of the "butterfly" vibrator. She clutched my wrist with

both hands, pressing my fingers hard against her groin and the strap

running through it.

My hand ground into the soft rubber of the butterfly against her pelvis.

My fingers found the round end of the dildo and forced it deeper into

her wet pussy. She hunched over in her seat and closed her eyes tight.

Her breathing came shallow and fast. A traffic light turned red ahead of

us and I braked to a stop, thankful for the automatic transmission that

let me drive one-handed. She groaned, "Hnnnnnnnnhh, hnnnnnnnnhh,

hnnnnnnnhh," as every muscle in her body seemed to tense and freeze.

Suddenly, she relaxed, released my hand and fell back against her seat.

My fingers brushed through a slick pool on her seat as I brought my hand

back to the steering wheel. "Thank you, Master," she said breathlessly.

"Oh God, that was amazing. I don't . . . "

She finally opened her eyes and looked up at the traffic around us. "Oh

no." She scanned the intersection with a deer-in-the-headlights

expression of wide-eyed panic. She yanked the hem of her skirt down

across her still spread thighs. "Do you think anybody saw. . .?" "I

don't think so." I chuckled softly. The light changed to green and I

pulled out across the intersection "They've all got their windows up and

their air conditioning on. I'd be surprised if anyone even looked this

way, never mind seeing what we were doing. Now, if there'd been a semi

parked next to us . . . " "Master!" "...the driver would have had a

ringside seat."

"Please, Master. You're going to make me cum again." "Me? I've got both

hands on the steering wheel, slut. You mean you're going to make

yourself cum again. And so soon. I have trouble understanding how you

could cum again after those last three." "It's not like they're really

separate, Master. I...I just get wound up and stay that way. It just

doesn't take much to set me off." "I can see that. I wonder what might

have happened if I'd left that vibrator on." "You'd be sitting next to a

pool of very submissive Jell-O, Master." She took a very deep breath.

"Just thinking about it nearly makes me cum"

" Don't think about it then, slut. Try to calm down. Think about

baseball or something." "Yes, Master. I'll try, but I don't think it'll

help much."

Two and a half hours of the "punishment" I had chosen for that evening

was about all I thought she could tolerate, so I changed our plans for

the rest of our shopping trip. I decided to take her back to our

apartment and do our grocery shopping on my own. I pulled the car into a

space in front of our building. "What about our picnic, Master?" she

asked.

"I'll walk over to the store in a few minutes," I responded. The grocery

store was only a couple hundred yards from our apartment. "I think you

need a little rest." "Thank you, Master."

"Don't be too grateful," I said. "Hurry upstairs. I'll bring the

packages." I watched her slide out of the car. She quickly brushed her

skirt down behind her, in a motion that made sure no one but me could

tell what she was doing. She dashed across the yard and up the open

stairway. She turned and blew me a kiss from the breezeway outside our

door, then disappeared inside. The door closed behind her with a heavy

thunk. I picked up the two bags from the back seat and followed up the

stairs.

She knelt, naked, face to the floor, in the center of the living room.

In both hands, she held out her collar in front of her. The high-heeled

sandals were still on her feet. The belt still encircled her waist. I

saw the crotch strap trail from the belt and vanish into the furrow

between the cheeks of her ass. I was surprised that she had managed to

undress so quickly, but her clothes were nowhere to be seen. "Excellent,

slave," I said. "You're learning your duties." I set the shopping bags

on the small table beside the door. "Thank you, Master," she replied,

looking up from the floor. "If it pleases you, may I be collared,

Master?" "Collared, yes. And bound as well," I said. "Up." "Thank you,

Master. Yes, please bind me too." She swung her body back and knelt

upright, her knees spread far apart, holding the collar before her. Her

breasts bounced slightly after her body stopped its motion, the nipples

hard and enlarged. The black strap glistened with moisture where it

forced apart her pussy lips and disappeared beneath her. I took the

collar from her outstretch hands and slipped it around her neck, under

her cascading hair. I slipped the end through the buckle and pulled the

black band snug before fastening it. "My cuffs are over here, Master."

She pointed to a pile of leather and chain on the TV stand next to the

set. I separated the leather cuffs from the rest of the pile, leaving

the chains on the stand. I crouched down behind her to cuff her ankles

first. After buckling a strap to each ankle, just above the straps of

her sandals, I couldn't resist the wonderful curves of her ass and

stroked, then gently fondled her cheeks. "Ooooo, that's nice." She knelt

more erect, pulling her bottom up off her ankles to give my hand better

access. "Yesss," she hissed I spanked each cheek once, sharply. "Ow."

She quickly rubbed her stinging cheeks, then dropped her hands back to

her sides. "Thank you, Master." I went to the table by the door and

retrieved the two new snap swivels from the hardware bag. I clipped one

to each wrist cuff. She held out her left hand, then her right, for me

to buckle on the wrist cuffs, saying "Thank you, Master," after I

buckled each in place. Then I pulled each hand down and clipped the

wrist cuff to its corresponding ankle cuff, left to left and right to

right. Her shoulders were pulled back slightly, but otherwise her

kneeling position wasn't changed. She would be able to kneel or sit or

lie down in limited positions, but standing would be impossible and

closing her legs difficult and uncomfortable. "I'm going over to the

market. Anything in particular you'd like for tomorrow's picnic?"

"You're leaving me like this?"

"Exactly." "Okay, Master." Her pursed lips told me she wasn't happy

about it. "What's that, slut?" "Of course, Master." She forced a smile.

"If it pleases you, Master. I am honored that you care enough to secure

me while you're gone." Her comment skirted sarcasm, but I chose to

interpret it as an expression of her subservience. I cleared my throat.

"Of course. Anything for the picnic?" I asked again. "Some of that pate

with the peppercorns would be very nice, Master." Her smile now was

real, as she pushed herself fully back into her role in our "game."

"Sounds good to me too." I reached down and tweaked a nipple.

"Ow." She pulled away from my hand. "Don't go away. Back soon." I took

two steps toward the door, then stopped, shaking my head. "I don't know

what I'm thinking," I said. "I almost forgot." Returning to her side, I

reached down and slid the butterfly vibrator's switch on. "Ooooooooo.

Sssssssss." She tensed and writhed, trying to reach her bound crotch

with her hands, trying to find a position that would move the gyrating

vibrator off her already inflamed clit. She rocked and twisted, pulling

up first one wrist and ankle and then the other, but to no purpose. She

rocked back to a seated position, wrists still bound to ankles and far

from the machine that tortured her sex. "Maaassster . . . pleeeasse." I

turned to go again, without a word. She fell slowly over onto her side,

then rolled to her stomach in a self-imposed hog tie as I closed the

door behind me and headed for the supermarket.

I hurried my trip through the market. I knew that she would be

frightened, left alone. I wanted to leave her long enough, but not too

long. French bread, two kinds of cheese, a bottle of cabernet and that

peppercorn pate. A quick run through the express lane. I was climbing

the steps to our apartment in little more that twenty minutes. I heard

the faint hum of the vibrator over her labored breathing as soon as I

opened our front door. I quickly swung the door shut behind me and set

the bag of groceries on the floor. Putting the groceries away could

wait. She lay on her side in the middle of the floor, drawn up as close

to fetal posture as she could manage, bound as she was. Her body was

drenched in sweat. Her face was pressed into the short pile of the

carpet. She didn't seem to see or hear me until the door clicked shut.

She slowly looked up at me. An expression of absolute joy lit her face.

"Oh God, Master," she panted. "Oh God. Thank you. Thank you. You're

back. I was afraid. I didn't . . . I thought . . . Oh God . . . " "I'm

here now, baby. I'm here. You're all right now." I knelt in the floor

next to her and covered her body with mine. I gently pulled her up to

sit, knees folded up to her chest. I held her wet naked body in my arms.

She buried her face in my chest and shoulder and wept. "Master . . .

I've been . . . I can't. . . ," she choked out between sobs. "I can't

stop . . . I can't . . . stop . . . cumming . . . Master . . . since you

left . . . and . . . and I've been so . . . afraid . . . " I reached

down and slid the vibrator's switch to "off." Her breathing slowed and

her tight body relaxed in my arms. "Aaaaahhhh," she sighed. "Oh, thank

you, Master." She looked up at me with the broadest smile I've ever

seen. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her face, her whole body, was

flushed red. "You knew I'd be back, baby. Didn't you?" She slowly shook,

then lowered her head. "Of course, of course. I knew you wouldn't

abandon me. But . . . but . . . ," she stammered, then went on,

sheepishly, "I was terrified. I was bound and alone and . . . damn you .

.

I couldn't stop cumming. The sheer . . . physical . . . intensity of it

overwhelmed me. Blanked out any reason I had left. God, I was glad to

see you." "God? You've never called me that before. We are making

progress," I teased and chuckled. "Master, you're taking advantage of me

while I'm helpless." "Of course I am." I gently brushed my hand through

her hair. "You know you could have gotten loose any time. Your cuffs

aren't locked." "I know that. Rationally, I know that. If something had

happened, I could have gotten loose. But I wasn't rational. I was . . .

I am a bound and naked slave. I didn't want to disappoint my Master."

"No, I'm not disappointed. I don't think you could have disappointed me.

I'm thrilled. You've performed heroically. Right now, I'm glad you're

still speaking to me. I was afraid I may have pushed you just a little

too far." "Well, you did," she pouted. "At least it seems like I should

tell you that you did. It's just so . . . overwhelming." That radiant

smile lit her face again. "Overwhelming," I said flatly. "You said that

already." I leaned over and kissed her hard on the lips. My tongue

penetrated her open mouth, teased and withdrew. "I was terrified. I was

completely out of control. I had this orgasm that just kept going and

going, in waves." "Sounds exciting," I grinned. "When you walked through

the door, I just came apart. Master, it was the most amazing sensual

experience . . . " She looked down, looked straight into my eyes, looked

down again, hesitant, uncertain. "Okay," she finally started. "Okay,

damn you, I'll say it. Thank you. Thank you, Master. I don't know how to

thank you. You left me dangling over the edge and I loved it." I

couldn't help laughing. "Slut, you amaze me." "Thank you, Master." She

pulled up her left arm and raised the attached ankle with it. "I'd hug

you if I could." "I guess it's time to get you out of this stuff

anyway," I said. "A hug may be worth giving you your arms and legs

back." I quickly unclipped the swivels connecting wrists to ankles.

"Thank you, Master." She shook each arm, then each leg, working the

stiffness out. "Stand up," I commanded, rising and taking her hand to

help her up. She swayed slightly on her feet, still weak from the

ordeal. I steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. I unbuckled the

crotch strap in front and pealed it away from her belly. The "butterfly"

slid off the end of the strap and into my hand. I slipped the strap back

through the loops on the dildo and ass plug, unbuckled the belt and

dropped it to the floor. The dildo slid out of her cunt in a gush of

thick liquid that trailed down her thighs. The pink cylinder dropped on

the carpet. She threw her arms around my waist, hugged me desperately,

kneaded my back and shoulders, covered my throat and chest with wet

kisses. "Master, right now I think you could make me walk into a fire

and like it." She slowly slid down my body to her knees. She nuzzled my

erect cock through my jeans. "I think you could make me walk into a fire

and then beg you to make me to it again." "Not today, baby. I think

you've had enough for a little while." I grabbed her hair and pushed her

face hard against my crotch. She licked and nipped through the coarse

fabric. "Mmmmmmhh," she sighed.

"Get cleaned up and rest for a while. I mean that this time." I checked

my watch. "It's almost four. We'll leave for dinner about six thirty.

Take a shower. Take your time. Come to me in the studio when you're

done." I released her hair. "Yes, Master," she said. She grabbed me

firmly around the waist and began to pull herself to her feet. "No,

slut. Crawl. You're not to stand until I allow it." She sank back to her

knees. "Yes, Master. If it pleases you, Master." She turned and dropped

to all fours, then crawled away toward the bathroom. The leather loop on

the base of the ass plug made a tiny black tail that poked out between

her ass cheeks .