Thursday, May 30, 2013

Punishment, Earning Sex, and Paying for an Orgasm: Part II

As He lay on top of me, He gently eased Himself in and the slow, steady thrusts quickly made my blood boil.  Partially lost in the feeling, partially in thought, then I noticed He stopped almost completely. "How many strokes do you think it will take?", He asked.

"What??  I have no idea!!" 

Of course, I didn't say this but the only number my brain could come up with was 500 so that was what I told Him.  I was thinking this would be how many strokes He would allow before He stopped and if I hadn't reached climax by then, it would be too bad for me.  However, He proceeded to explain each stroke represented a minute and each minute represented the amount of time I will spend being humiliated by wearing, or not wearing, what He chooses at the public place of His choosing.  Urrrggg....really I have no idea where He comes up with this stuff!  Nevertheless, I really need to get off so I agree to His terms and try to put it out of my mind for the moment. 

At first, He insisted that I count out loud.  As this was really distracting, He offered to keep count quietly for me.  The first one hundred went by in the blink of an eye.  Between 200 and 400, there were several times when I was very close but He would quicken His pace knowing that I usually cannot finish at that speed.  Pretty unfair if you ask me but then again...who's asking?  LOL When my body finally gave in to Him, the count was...519.  Pretty close to my estimate:)  His orgasm came as He was telling me exactly what He had planned for my public outing the following day.

I quickly started doing the math in my head because I really dislike this form of humiliation above any other that I have experienced thus far.  For those of you not wanting to do the math, 519 minutes is just a little over 8 1/2 hours!!

The next day, which was this past Tuesday, I was told to wear my very short blue jean shorts, tank top (no bra and slightly see-through), slutty heels, big hoop earrings, and whore red lipstick.

If you happened to see this at one of your local stores the other may have just been me;)
Once I arrived at the store, I was to text Him so He could give me further direction becasue He was still driving home from work.  The following is out text exchange:   

little girl:  Well, I am here Sir 6:09pm
Master: Walk through the front, then go try something on and send a photo
Master: Must use good posture!
little girl: sent pic, shall I put my clothes back on?
Master: Bring yourself close to orgasm    (this was incredibly exciting...definitely my favorite part)
little girl: Already done Sir   
Master: Get dressed and walk around the gaming section
Master: Strut it!
Master: Move to the sporting good section.
Master: Stop where you are, drop your keys, keep your legs straight, bend over and pick them up.
little girl: I did that Sir.
Master: Go through sporting goods 6:39 pm

After wandering sporting goods trying to distract myself by looking for supplies for our upcoming camping trip, He appeared.  I had a feeling He had maybe been in the store the whole time...especially when He told me to mind my posture and drop my keys.  He was pretty good at hiding because I looked for Him.  When He appeared in the aisle, just the sight of Him put me at ease. 

We spent about 30 more minutes walking around the store before Master decided it was time to go.  But not before, handing me a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade and ordered me to go pay. 

So one hour of my time has been satisfied but I was to understand that this was to be the most conservative outfit He would chose.  Honestly, the part that bothered me the most was the heels.  The shoes with the shorts screamed stripper, slut, whore...whatever you want to call it.  I tried not to worry about the looks. Some people looked, some looked hard, some looked disgusted, but I was thankful for the ones that didn't look at all!  I don't foersee that I will ever get comfortable with this type of's just something that I submit to because it is asked of me and it pleases Him. 

It's kind of funny and coincidental, I received a message the day after this from someone on Fetlife who kindly reminded me that my embarrassment, degradation, and humiliation are not my responsibility.  Once asked to do these things, the burden of that responsibility rests with Master.  I have heard these same words from my own Master but it was extrenely nice and very timely to have received that reminder. 

Oh, I almost forgot the last and maybe the best part of my assignment...driving home topless!  Surprisingly this was easier than walking around the store.  I will just assume no one was able to see inside the truck since it sits so high and I don't think I caused any wrecks:)

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