In The Diner

Master's hand is on your knee, sliding slowly, slowly up your thigh. He stops there for a minute, to feel you shiver, as this is the worst place you can afford to be touched at, but you are powerless. His touch is all you know, all you feel, all rules of propriety leave your being.

And he knows. That is why he stopped. To make you think of it...about it. Let all the thoughts run their course. He feels you tremble, as his hand slides back toward the knee. You breathe again, but you know better, don't you slave? The hand, the Touch, it is all you can think of and you silently beg him to stop, but also to go, and this he knows too.

The hand again reaches the thigh, a little higher this time, almost to where the hip meets the thigh.

So close, surely he must feel the heat coming from your body, the wetness, the tremble, the need.

Your reputation, your everything "vanilla" on the line, yet he will not relent. This you know. This you need.

He leaves his hand at that juncture, knowing you will shame yourself even more by having to move your sex to his hand. A silent gesture of begging. And you knew. You knew he would do this, that he would make you do this.

He keeps his hand still, as you rub your pussy gently on that touch, giving up all that discretion demands you follow, because Master's demands outweigh all.

Yet, he has not demanded. He has only placed you in the position of making the choice. Shame is a bitch, but shame is also a motivator....You rub gently, the hand never moving. You move slowly, because you know to cum without permission, will cost you much more than just your reputation.

Slowly weaving, slowly bending and rising. Your mind is reeling, almost white hot in it's need to beg your Master to let you.......let you.....Oh, so close...

Do you shame yourself more by begging? He will make you beg so all will hear. And he Knows you are close...so close......