another night out for dawn - Sex Stories

another night out for dawn

... scream leaves my lips there is a second then a third, whole arse now a hotbed of stripes of pain, four, measured strokes now, five, eye`s watering , six ,seven, must focus, glad I hadn’t worn mascara, tears running down my face , eight , nine , stop, please stop, ten. My backside a seat of fire now, sobbing collapsed on the tabletop, realising muscles had been stressed in bonds, now the caning has stopped. He released my collar rope, then my ankles, finally the cuffs, I stand hands clutching at my bruised butt, he smiles, kitchen towel in hand he bids me wipe my eyes. He attaches wrist cuffs, without looking I know they match the ones on my ankles 2” black leather straps with ‘D’ rings and sprung securing clips that rattle with each movement I make. He goes out in the hall, as I stand passively awaiting wherever his mind will take us. He returns with my coat, throws it to me and says, “come on were off to the pub!” My mouth drops open , I am basically naked wearing a butt plug, my arse on fire, and with 5” heels and leather bands on my wrists and ankles, my only item of clothing that coat and he`s taking me to a busy pub, I feel shock, worry humiliation all rolled into one. Regardless of my feelings we are soon outside him locking the front door, I know better than refuse or complain. The gravel crunching yet again clips on cuffs rattling Silent countryside, cold wrapping itself round my still smarting butt, and my very wet pussy, my nipples not having slackened since I ...

... arrived, the pubs a good ½ mile, a haven of light in the dark countryside. At the door I hesitate, but he pushes me inside the warm bar. About 30 people in the large warm coal fired bar, all eyes swivel in our direction, some offer greetings to the master, it`s his local, he doesn’t introduce me. Just acknowledges the greetings, then guides me to the stool at the far end of the long bar Clips rattling at every move, tiny tinkles that sound to me like big Ben, they can`t fail to see the things, evidence of my slavery. I try to retract my arms into the coat to hide the wristlets which probably makes them more noticeable and anyway the collar is a giveaway. It`s warm in the place, no other woman in there has a coat on I stand out, blushing now as Master makes me sit on the stool, the butt plug forcing itself further into my body, the hot stripes of the caning sore on the padded seat top. The coat exposes my knees, I feel a million pairs of male eyes boring into my exposed skin, and I imagine a million hard cocks behind the eyes. My pussy begins to run with wet excitement, I cover up again sipping my drink red with Humiliation. Master apparently ignoring my plight talking to the barman about football, the ordeal runs on for nearly an hour, wiser drinkers moving to sit in places they feel they will give them the best view of my body if my coat slips as I get up. They either know or are suspicious of my being naked under the coat. Master though has been watching in the bar mirror. Our ...