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Dinner Out (mf,ds)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: DINNER OUT (M/f, D/s)
Reply-To: [email protected] (AdoredByU)
Date: Fri Jun 23 18:30:33 1995
note: I did not write this story. I don't know who did. I'm merely
attempting to improve the content of a.s.s. by submitting stories from my
collection. Enjoy
THE DINNER
You had an evil glint in your eye, but then again, you usually
do.
"This one, I think," you said, holding up a cream-colored,
pleated blouse and running your fingers over the inside to make
sure you could see through the material.
I stood next to you, wearing a garter and stockings with the
panties outside as you always prefer when you allow me wear them
at all. It was unusual that you had requested them. I put the
blouse on without a bra, and then you handed me the short white
skirt, the pleated one that flies up in the slightest breeze. You
admired your handiwork while I stepped into the spike heels,
then you snapped on my collar and leash led me to the door.
Somehow I knew this wouldn't be an ordinary dinner out.
You opened the car door for me, and gestured me inside. I spread
the skirt so that I sat directly on the seat.
"That's a good slave-girl," you said.
When you had climbed into the driver's seat, you reached over and
lifted the skirt, folding it back until you could see my panties
and you pushed my knees as far apart as the cockpit of the car
would allow. I remained in exactly that position as we drove,
knowing better than to try and close my legs, even when passersby
could see into the car, and several took more than passing notice
to your obvious delight. I could feel the flush rising in my face.
We arrived at the restaurant and parked. You unsnapped the leash
but left the collar on. I looked at you expectantly, but you
made no move toward the collar. I would be it wearing through
dinner. We went inside and you asked the maitre'd for a table in
the bar. As we walked to the table, I noticed a lot of single
men in the place, mostly watching a baseball game on the bar TV,
but many watching us as we made our way to the table. I hoped
that, in the dim light, my breasts weren't too visible. The
collar I knew was very visible.
"Something to drink?" The waiter asked, and you ordered us each
a cocktail. You remembered my favorite. I was glad of a little
relaxer and gulped a large swallow as soon as it arrived.
"Look in your purse." You told me. There was that glint again.
I opened it up and explored the contents. There was the usual
stuff I always carry, and a little package wrapped in tissue
paper. Inside was my small dildo.
"Now, remove your underwear."
"Here!?!"
"Yes, my sweet. Here and now."
I glanced around the room. It was full of single guys watching
the game. The light was dim, but sufficient to see what was going
on, even here in the out-of-way corner you had chosen for us. The
table blocked some of the view, as I was sitting on the side away
from the bar.
My skirt was spread on the chair, as you always require, so that
was not an obstacle, but I was embarrassed and afraid of being
seen. You looked at me reassuringly, but expectantly, knowing I
would obey.
As subtly as I could I moved my right hand, the one towards the
wall, up under my skirt, and hooked my thumb under the waistband
of my panties. Rocking my hips from side to side, showing as
little motion as I could, I gradually worked them over my hips
and slid them down across my knees, holding them there.
"Give them to me." Your eyes held mine and you extended your hand,
waiting.
My face felt like it must be glowing bright red, as I let the
panties drop to my ankles. I stepped out of them, leaned down as
if reaching for a dropped napkin, and quickly swept them up. I
balled them up in my hand and passed them to you. Hardly even
glancing at them, you placed on the table in full view by your
left hand.
The waiter came over with some breadsticks and raw vegetables. I
thought I saw a puzzled look pass quickly across his face as he
spied my underwear there on the table, but it was gone as soon as
it appeared. Thank ghod for professionalism, I thought, feeling
more heat rising in my face. You smiled at me as he took our
dinner orders and left.
You took a breadstick from the plate and munched it slowly.
You said, "Needs some kind of dip ... these are so boring by
themselves. A little honey, I think." You picked up another and
held it out to me, smiling that little smile again. You knew
I'd be wet.
I wanted to kill you right then and there. Why can't I have a
nice simple Master who'll get his jollies from a nice spanking?
I knew what you wanted. Okay, I thought, you'll have it. I locked
my eyes on yours and brushed my skirt up my thighs until the hem
was just barely hidden by the edge of the table. Taking the
breadstick, I spread my thighs just enough, reached down and
pressed it to my slit. After holding it there for just a moment,
I brought it back up and held it out in front of us, then handed
it to you.
Again, you locked your eyes on mine and put it in your mouth.
Slowly you bit down on the end that had been on my sex, ever so
slowly biting through it. You chewed slowly twice, and then
licked your lips, catching a tiny crumb on your tongue as it
flicked across your lips. All the while your eyes held mine and
I felt a shiver pass up my back and a surge of heat went to my
loins.
"Delicious," you said. "Much, much tastier."
As you ate the rest of it, you talked to me about your day, but
my mind was on your lips as you chewed and talked in turn. I
could feel my juices flow as I thought about the touch of those
lips on my pussy.
You held out a chunk of green pepper, and caught my eyes with
yours again. I took it under the table and pressed it to my
warming crotch, bending my hips back slightly to get a better
angle on my sex. It felt cold and sent a thrill through my whole
being. After a moment or two, I lifted it from my slit and held
it out to you.
"No, my dear, you have this one," you said.
I blushed and put it in my mouth. The musty taste filled my mouth
as I chewed.
Next, you chose a carrot stick, a nice thick one, and handed it
to me.
"See if you can't get a little more of that delicious dip on this
one," you said, your smile turning sly.
I spread my legs a little wider, turned my hips more upwards, took
it by the end, and slid it slowly into my cunt, more than wet
enough to allow it's entry with ease. I slid it back and forth a
couple of times and held it up. It glistened slightly in the
light.
You took it and held it under your nose, before popping it whole
into your mouth. Then you picked up another.
"Leave it in a while, sweet."
I did as you asked, feeling the coolness of it's length inside me
for a few moments until it warmed up and seemed almost to
disappear.
The next minute, the waiter appeared with our meals and asked if
we were done with the appetizers. You locked on my eyes and said,
"Yes, she's full." I flushed crimson as he put down our plates and
swept up the remains of the appetizers. You held out your hand,
and I gave you the carrot, slick with my juice.
Right then, I could have killed you, Sir. You set me up for that!
But you grinned at me, blew me a kiss, and whispered, "My good
little slave-girl ..." and my anger melted away like it always
does.
As I picked up my fork, you stopped me, and said, "First, there's
that little present in your purse, my dear."
I thought my heart had stopped. "Here?" I asked through clenched
teeth.
"Yes, my sweet. You can do it. I have faith in you."
I looked around the room. The men were still watching TV, but as
I glanced past, a couple of them looked over at us.
"They're watching. I can't. Really, I just can't."
"It's no different from the carrot, dear." You said, very
quietly.
"But -- "
You interrupted me without any words. Just a movement of your
hand, stopping my objection. You held my eyes with that quiet
confidence and that caring glow that tells me you would never
do anything to hurt me.
I kept my gaze on your eyes and reached in my purse for the
dildo. It was the little "realistic" one, the one that fits
completely inside. I took it out and held it at the edge of
the table, slowly unwrapping it, not worrying about who could
see. Still meeting your eyes, I put it to my lips and whispered,
"I do this my Master." I wet it with my tongue once all around
the tip, and lowered it under the table. Your eyes never left
mine as I slid it slowly into my pussy, feeling all the little
veins and bumps on it's surface. Every inch was a pleasure and
felt also like a gift to my Master from me and a gift to me
from my Master.
My cheeks were burning now, but it was not from embarrassment.
You smiled at me.
It stayed there all through dinner, and, after coffee, you paid
the check, tipped the waiter and stood up to leave. I stood up
too, clamping the muscles in my pussy against the push of the
dildo inside me. As we were walking towards the door, you said,
"Oh, you forgot something ..." and pointed out my panties still
sitting there on the table, which the busboy was beginning to
clear. I trotted back just as he picked them up.
"Excuse me, I believe those are mine." I smiled at him, and his
jaw dropped as I held out my hand for them. He laid them on my
palm, and I walked away feeling his eyes on my back. You were
waiting for me, watching, and as we walked to the car, you slid
your hand up under the back of my skirt.
"Tonight, a reward for my good little slave-girl."
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