Acting out or Dom-sub relationship in public is something we were both interested in. I had suggested it because it had been a fantasy of mine for a while, thinking that you might have me wear a butt plug or perhaps nipple clamps under my clothes. You liked the suggestion very much.
You had me wear one of my butt-plugs to work several times in the past. You had mentioned your intention vaguely, and then suddenly decided to act on it. It must have been a couple months ago, you stopped me as I was leaving.
"I want you to bend over the table, slave, and spread your legs wide apart for me." I did as you instructed me and bent over, my chest and arms against the table. "Are you wet? Are you a wet slut?"
"Yes, Master."
You moved behind me and I could feel your erection pressing against my ass. Slowly, you slid my skirt up around my waist, exposing my ass, still glowing and red from the spanking you had given me the night before. You could just see a bit of my shaved cunt; you never permit me to wear knickers, except sometimes when you like me to wear your boxers.
I felt two fingers slide into my pussy, sliding through my juices. Moving your fingers slowly, you fingered me until I began to moan and was relaxed, and then I felt pressure against my butt hole. You thrust my biggest plug right into me and waited, holding your hand still. My body braced under the unexpected force stretching my anus, and then relented as I felt it jolt home. I relaxed again. You fucked me over the table, and then sent me off to the office.
You never tell me when you wish to do this, inserting one of various sized plugs between my round cheeks before I leave and only releasing me of it at your wish, when we were both home again in the evening. And how I love to be filled by you, feeling the plug inside me all day, reminding me of you and your control over me.
You always do like surprises, especially when you are surprising me. This day was to be another of your surprises, something you had thought of since I started wearing the plug under my skirt-suits.
We have been in the busy bar for perhaps an hour. We are to meet some friends of yours, but we are very early; this was your plan. After getting another round of drinks for us, I request to use the bathroom. Over the noise of the crowded bar you ask me, "Have you ever been in a men's bathroom, slave?" I shake my head, no. "Use the men's."
Obediently, I go and use the men's bathroom. Some of the occupants, lined along the urinals, look at me curiously, but none stop me or speak with me as I use an empty cubical, wash my hands and leave. I am more than sure that they have seen stranger things.
You smile as I sit back down beside you. "Good girl."
We finish our drinks and I offer to go to the bar again. You tell me not yet, and instruct me to follow you. Worming our way through the crowds, you lead me back towards the men's bathroom. You hold the door open and indicate for me to go in first.
Inside, only three men line the wall of urinals and the cubicles are empty. I stand for a moment, trying not to look at the men or make them nervous. As you begin to caress me and kiss me, the men drift out and leave us alone. You push me into a cubical and lock the door.
Grabbing my breasts, you mould them through my blouse and twist my nipples beneath your thumb and forefinger. With your right hand, you reach down and feel that my crotch is soaked with my fluids. "Gooood," you growl, throwing down the lid of the toilet with a clatter.
You unzip your trousers and pull them down to your ankles, your throbbing cock bobbing tantalizingly. Putting one hand on my head, you push me to my knees and run your fingers through my hair, and then push my mouth toward you.
You fuck your dick between my lips for a moment. We listen to the sounds of men coming and going, using the bathrooms and leaving without noticing us. I can feel your dick getting harder in my mouth, pushing faster as you hold my head still in your grasp.
Pushing me away roughly, you pull me to my feet by my hair and spin me to face the door. You take a scarf from your pocket and bind my hands tightly behind my back, and then take another and gag me. Turning from me, you sit on the toilet. "Sit on my cock, slave."
I position myself dutifully on your solid cock, although it is difficult because of my ties, and fuck you harder and harder as you moan and twist my nipples. We can hear the noises of other men using the bathroom, slamming the doors, and hear the music from in the bar grow loader and quieter again as the door swings open and closed.
My own cries are muffled through the gag, but as I begin to fuck you faster, nearing my own orgasm, the toilets seem to quieten. I moan against the scarf and you whisper, "Cum, my sweet." I feel sweat trickle down my back and my juices on my thighs as I begin to cum.
As we step out of the cubicle, a little red in the face, I see that three men are stood, staring at us. They watch us as you lead me out, telling me that I have pleased you and that having an audience was delightful.
We struggle to find a table for a few minutes, but finally get one in a quiet corner and sit down with our drinks. We talk for a while, chatting, while I am still catching my breath. Seeing the men looking at me in that lustful, jealous way- knowing that they wanted me- was exhilarating. And as ever, I do love to please my Master.
