Damn Panties

I was sitting across a table booth from you while we're out at dinner, and you knew that I was wearing panties. You saw them while helping me in and out of your tall truck – my dress had slipped up and you got a quick glance of black lace between my smooth caramel thighs. The panties were sexy, but they were still hampering your access to me nonetheless. I kind of noticed your tone changed slightly on the ride to the restaurant and now that we were seated and settled, you spoke up about it. Telling me that although it wasn't forbidden to wear panties in your presence, you said in no uncertain tone that you were very displeased that I did not ask permission from you first. You told me to take them off and hand them over, or else take a punishment. My thighs closed tight while listening to you. Just as you finished the waiter came up to the table. I thought his visit was a reprieve for me, but as he asked me what I wanted, I saw you silently mouth, "One...two...three...four...five." I bolted up, quickly excusing myself for the bathroom and jostling the table in my ungraceful haste. While on my way there you caught the waiter's eyes watch the hurried sway of my hips in the flowing wrap dress. You knew that because of my anxiety at punishment for displeasing you, those damn panties were already wet. You excused the waiter, telling him that something from lunch must've disagreed with me and that you had to go check on me in the bathroom.

I was in a stall, freeing the fragrant panties from my ankle when you entered the bathroom. After making sure no one else was in there, besides my lone pair of heels, you locked the door. The unmistakable click of the latch made me start and I listened as your steps carried you slowly yet surely in front of my stall.

I opened the stall door and offered you my panties, a shy half smile on my face.

"You didn't make it by the count of five, dear."

"I'm sorry Sir. ... I ..." I tried not to offer up excuses, they wouldn't matter anyway. I took a deep breath and bit the inside of my lip. As I looked up into your eyes I recalled that we'd talked about this before. I needed to be a big girl and take this, in order to get better for you.

"Please punish me Sir."

Your eyes sharpened and you bit back a smile and decided that moment on the punishment to give me. You'd been thinking of a couple ideas since I bolted from the table earlier. A nice spanking followed by a bullet in my puss, plug in my ass would be perfect. I'd be fidgeting, trembling, and hopefully even slipping out a few moans through dinner.

"Good girl, good job on asking for your punishment." You took the panties and tucked them away in your jacket pocket. "Now, bend over the counter, spread nicely for me and lift your dress. You'll receive 20 hand spanks, 5 more for every noise that escapes you, and then some toys will be inserted into you for my enjoyment during dinner."

I drew a shaky breath while you were talking – my ass and thighs clenching, my nipples pebbling but not because of the coolness of the bathroom.

"Yes Sir."

I walked over to the counter, bent over pulling up the dress over my hips, and positioned my feet wide for you. The cold counter felt good on my cheek and I watched my warm breath fan out and then disappear on the black marble. You didn't even have to look at my cunt, you could smell my eagerness in the air. I felt a hand on my hip, so I kind of knew where you were, as if you were calming a horse. Then the whacks began. They were so loud! The sounds echoed off the tiled walls; I was sure anyone passing by could hear. You started the whacks at a medium roughness and got harder. At ten you paused for a moment and trailed the opposite, cool hand over my warm asscheeks. Then you slid an anal plug a couple times through my slick slit and proceeded to push it in my ass. I wiggled against it and a whimpered moan slipped out when the largest part of it passed inside.

"Five more, slut."

I pressed my hot forehead to the cool marble, cursing myself inwardly.

"Yes Sir."

The anal plug now firmly in me, you resumed slapping my ass, the heat rising in the flesh. The last ten were much harder and my asshole clamped down on that plug each strike. I bit and sucked on my forearm to keep from crying out. It hurt so much but I almost wanted to ask for more when you'd finish 25 slaps. I'd forgotten my fear of the loud slaps and people walking by, wondering what was happening. You trailed a lone digit around my ass, the finger pad caressing and the nail scrapping the hot flesh and I tried unsuccessfully not to wiggle against you. My hip grazed your hard erection and I smiled. You took a couple flicks of my clit with the finger and saw my ass and pussy clench down hard, my breath trembling.

"I think you're just about ready to resume dinner, my dear," you said. In all fairness I was just about ready to cum.

"Yes Sir, thank you. Umm ... you said toys inside me Sir."

I could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, "Yes I did girl." You removed the bullet from your jacket pocket. Then you bent down for a quick taste of my succulent lips and I arched into the sensation of your tongue on my pussy. Suddenly I felt you bite then smack and rub the curve of my cheek, right where my ass meets my thighs. I tightened and shivered, but still spread open and ever ready for whatever you wanted to do with me. Standing, you slid the bullet about three inches inside of my wet hot cunt and then patted my labia. Oh God, it felt so good but I was immediately afraid that somehow it'd fall out while I was walking and everyone see discover it. It was a silly fear yet it clung to my heated mind. As you washed your hands, you noticed my sudden panic – my quickened shallow breathing and my hands were now strained holding onto the counter. (I hadn't moved from the position, you hadn't told me I could yet.)

"What's the matter babygirl?"

"Sir, I'm afraid the bullet might fall out ...." (And people would know what a whore I was, I thought but could not say.) "I'll just have to hold it in tight."

"Yes you will girl. I'm sure your needy, tight cunt will do a fine job of that." You returned to my side and helped me up, rearranged my dress, and finally tucked some loosened hair behind my ear.

I smiled at you from the corner of my eyes. "Yes Sir. ... Thank you for the punishment. I will always ask permission to wear panties while in your presence."

You bent down to kiss one of my temples, "Good girl."

Then you lead me back to the door and I paused before we reentered the restaurant main lobby. My pussy ached and I itched with the desire to touch you somehow.

"Sir, may I please have a kiss?"

You grinned, chuckling to yourself as you palmed the controller to the bullet and buzzed it on. I immediately gasped, reaching for your dress shirt in my need.

"Certainly my slut, you took that punishment nicely." You took hold of my hair and angled me just so while you stepped close so that our bodies pressed together. Looking in my eyes you saw desire and excitement and you let me see your lust in return. Then your head dipped down to my upturned face and your lips took mine. My hands gripped your shirt and then wrapped around neck, and eventually up into your hair as your mouth plundered mine deliciously. Your other hand smoothed down my waist and squeezed my warm ass and I whimpered into your kiss. You were slowing the kiss down when suddenly I gasped and my hold tightened to a death grip. Someone knocked loudly on the door nearby us.

"Everyone okay in there?"

I smothered my giggle in your neck as you replied that we would be out shortly. Then I looked up and you held me with your steady gaze. A smile crept over and soon dominated my features. I brushed your hair back into place and smoothed your shirt down, my fingers loosely lingering on the bottom buttons. I looked freshly fucked and the room smelled of pussy juice. My cheeks were blushed, my eyes were bright, my pebbled nipples sitting atop my breasts in offering, my ass was sensitive, and my pussy was quivering. In your eyes, I looked just right and downright delectable. And if my mind wasn't flooded with such hot thoughts and sensations I would've been more embarrassed by the situation.

When we exited and a few people in close by booths turned to look at us, I blushed and absently ran a hand through my hair. I also tightened up everything I could down below, and with a smile you noticed my walk was rigid. The waiter magically appeared as we settled back into the booth. He was young, cute, and smug. One could easily picture him with an ear to the bathroom door while we were in there, and then going off and sharing our exploits with the rest of the staff. That thought was causing my current state of embarrassment as I tried to settle gently on my backside in the booth. He (and maybe they) knew that I had been a slut with you in the bathroom. Jesus, maybe he heard the slapping and knew why I couldn't sit down without fidgeting!

"Feeling better, I hope, miss?" He addressed me.

My face was hot and I couldn't seem to look any further than my forgotten menu on the table for a moment. You buzzed my puss and I unsuccessfully hid my gasp, deepening my predicament. The waiter's eyes glittered at me as if he could hear the buzz. I picked a spot on the wall behind him, a foot to the right of his head, and murmured something affirmative to that spot, and thanked it for its concern. ... Damn smug, eavesdropping waiter.

You proceeded to order for us, knowing that I was preoccupied with my embarrassment. I thanked you after he'd gone. We made small talk over the salad and soup course. Eventually I guess I must have looked too at ease because you buzzed me for a few moments. I shivered mid chew and shifted on the bench, the buzz going straight to my clit. A deep sigh rushed from me when it was over and I demurely thanked you, my bright eyes connecting with your evil gaze. You just smiled back. I was starting to worry about leaving a wet spot on the back of my dress. At least it was a black dress and it was night outside. The walk out of the restaurant would be killer though.

I was going to say something before that buzz...oh right. I offered you my cherry tomatoes, I never eat them. The fork was still in your mouth from your last bite and you took your time sliding it out from between your lips, licking every bit of salad dressing off the prongs. It was silly but my eyes were glued to your mouth.

"Thank you baby, I'd love to take a stab at your cherries."

It was a horrible line and made me giggle all the same. I pushed my plate forward a bit and involuntarily arched my chest up as you leaned over the table, fork in hand. I had not worn a bra that night and was innocent of your true intentions. Then right in front of God, that smug waiter watching us from the kitchen door window, and everyone else with a clue in the restaurant - you flicked your fork over my right nipple. I drew in a big breath, only increasing the contact and just stared at you, speechless. I couldn't believe that you were teasing me like this in the open, but I couldn't help react to the sharp jolts of pleasure you were creating. The buds tightened even more and every scratch of the silver prongs sent another jolt to my clit. It probably lasted ten seconds but felt more like ten minutes. Finally you found a cherry tomato you were supposed to be looking for, stabbed it, and devoured it whole. Like a snake eating a mouse, you had this devilish, triumphant look in your eyes. I was trying to settle my visible trembling, still watching you in shock and awe...and looking a little like I wanted to ring your neck.

Gathering my wits, "Good tomato, Sir?"

"Yes, thank you very much baby. Do you have any more?"

You damned well knew I had three more. Quickly I leaned over and tipped them onto your plate, making you grin like a cheshire cat. ... I only lowered my eyes and bit down my own grin in return.

The rest of our evening followed similarly. A buzz here and there, a badly-hidden innuendo from Mister Smug Waiter, a needy sigh from me, and a glinting knowing eye from you. It was a grand dinner indeed. And if you asked me, I couldn't remember a thing about the food.

"I hope you don't tip him well." I said when you were filling out the receipt for the meal.

"He helped entertain me dear, he will be tipped accordingly." You responded evenly.

There was no argument there, just a stern statement of fact.

"Yes Sir." It was true, I agreed. I doubt I would've been this aroused had the waiter been clueless. I just didn't think he had to be so damn smug about it, but I kept that to myself.

After we were all paid up, you escorted me out of the restaurant with a hand on my lower back. I didn't look back to see if there was a puddle on the seat, I knew there was without looking. I was happy to be leaving the restaurant but more giddy to be going home to play with you, so I didn't care about the spot. Still I tried to keep you in back of me most of the way out, and you complied. But then in the foyer doors you slapped my ass so hard I literally jumped. A mighty laugh resounded from you and I turned, trying hard but unsuccessfully to give you a horrible look.

Biting down my own grin I said, "I'm glad I amuse you Sir."

"Yes babygirl, you amuse me greatly. You won't be wearing panties without permission anytime soon, now will you?"

Looking down at the pavement, grinning cheek to cheek, "No Sir, I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because this slut should always be ready and accessible for you to play with her, anywhere we are." I looked up at you, meeting your eyes evenly as I said this.

"My good girl," you said as you embraced me next to the car, squeezing an asscheek and briefly kissing my lips.

We got in the car, travel blanket under my bottom, and pulled away from the restaurant. I was eager to get home and play with you finally, without public censure.