The sensation of my naked
body being fully on display for all passers-by was quite new; the previous
evening and earlier in the foyer I had been blind-folded, but now I could see
people looking at me and I became quite embarrassed! Some stared openly, some
grinned with great amusement at my discomfiture, but others hardly spared a
glance at my nudity. Strangely, I was most upset by these casual looks, as if
my body (stripped and on display at least partly against my will) was just part
of the scenery and of no interest at all. I found myself almost involuntarily
covering my cock and balls with my hands and keeping my eyes on the ground.
When my Mistress noticed
this, she said sharply, "Stop that! Hands behind your back, please! You
don't need to be ashamed of your body, slave." I obeyed (she had trained
me well) but my reaction and her rebuke were repeated several times, and more
than once I asked her to take me back to our hotel room. Not wanting to attract
more attention to myself, I kept my voice low, but she chose to ignore me at
"All right," she
said in a tone of exasperation after about an hour, "we'll go back to the
room, but you might be sorry. I'm very disappointed in you!" We walked
back quickly and in silence -- I was rehearsing what to say to her. I didn't
want to use our 'opt-out' clause, but I was sure I could persuade her to keep
our B&D activities private or in small groups of people.
I was wrong; she didn't
even give me a chance to say what I'd been rehearsing! We had hardly crossed the
threshold of our room before she had my wrists handcuffed behind me; and when I
started to speak she snapped, "Not now! First I want you in a suitable
pose!" Very soon she had me bent over the back of a chair with my ankles
spread and my arms pulled up to a hook in the ceiling; then "Open
up!" she ordered as she placed a large gag against my lips. Knowing she
could force it in by pinching my nose, I obeyed and she went on "Good boy
-- I don't want you to interrupt while I give you a little lecture. Later
you'll have a chance to say what you want to say.
continued when she had me fixed to her satisfaction, "I'm going to make
four points, most of which you agreed to a long time ago ... and to help you
remember I'll give you five strokes with a riding crop for each one. They'll
also serve as punishment for your behaviour just now.
"First -- you agreed
to be a humble obedient slave during the whole of what we call a 'session', and
only afterwards would you complain of mistreatment or take the choice to
opt out. I have decided (if it wasn't clear by what I said earlier) that this whole
holiday is to be one 'session' ... which I don't think is unreasonable
so long as I keep my side of our agreement." Here she paused --and I
winced at the pain of five strokes of her crop across my upturned bum,
delivered with (I thought) a little more energy than usual!
continued, "I agreed not to injure you or even to take you past the threshhold at which discipline becomes real pain for you
... except, you may remember, by a small margin for purposes of punishment --
like NOW!" (The stroke that coincided with the last word certainly met
that criterion, as did the four following, drawing grunts of pain through my
gag.) .".. and you can't accuse me of breaking
that agreement on this holiday."
After a moment she went on:
"Third -- I promised not to expose you to situations where a charge of
indecent behaviour might result. Perhaps it's this that's bothering you, in
these unusual surroundings ... but I promise you, this ... is ... no ...
problem ... here!" She punctuated the last five words with stinging
blows of the crop across the backs of my thighs.
"Worst of all,"
now there was a note of real anger in her voice, "you made me look
ridiculous today. After your behaviour with Mistress Anne I thought I could be
proud of you, and of myself as a Mistress, in this community where Bondage and
Slavery are taken for granted ... but you let me down, and that is
UN-FOR-GIVE-A-BLE!" Once again the crop laced my bum and thighs in time
with each syllable, as hard as any she had ever given me, if not harder.
Her tone changed to one of
sadness. "One more thing: after all this time as my slave, I really
thought you could trust me more and know that I wouldn't spring surprises
unless I'm certain... no, no more strokes for this" (she must have
noticed me tensing in expectation) .".. unless
I'm certain that you'll enjoy this holiday if you give yourself a
chance." Her hand slipped between my legs and fondled my cock, and she chuckled
(with a definite undertone of "I told you so"!) when she found it
almost hard ... as usual!