A Surprising Day with Sir Ch. 02

(please read part 1 of this story first)

*

The car ride to the restaurant was long. Sir made me drive, but fondled my breasts the entire trip, even pulling them out of my shirt to fondle them at stoplights. I tried to look straight ahead so that I would not know if anyone saw them or not, but my imagination assumed the worst. I was actually glad when we arrived, although Sir made me park near the entrance to the restaurant, and kept my breasts out, fondling them, for several minutes while we sat there.

Eventually he stopped, allowing me to put my breasts back into my shirt. "Look what you did, you stupid whore," he said, grabbing my hand and rubbing it over his now-hard cock. "You are nothing but a big tease," he taunted. "You will pay for this later." After saying this, he let go of my hand and got out of the car.

I hurriedly put myself together and followed him into the restaurant. We were seated quickly at a booth in a corner of the restaurant, for which I was very grateful. I had no idea if Sir was going to embarrass me in the restaurant or not, but if he was planning on it, I was glad to be mostly out of the way. The waiter came and we ordered our food normally, and I was beginning to think that this trip would be completely vanilla. I was, of course, wrong. As soon as our food got to us, I started to take a bite to my mouth, when Sir stopped me.

"Who do you think you are, slut?" he asked loudly enough to make me nervous. "You do not get to eat at the same time as your betters. You will wait until I am completely done before you take a single bite, do you understand me?"

"Yes," I replied, and was rewarded with a hard kick to my shin. I managed to stifle my cry by biting my lip, but only barely.

"Yes WHAT, cunt?" he snapped at me.

"Yes Sir," I said quietly, head bowed in shame at having to say this in public. My quietness earned me a kick to the other shin, drawing tears from my eyes.

"Yes Sir," I said louder, looking him in the eyes this time.

"Good, glad that is settled," he said, and began to eat. I watched him, bored. I tried to start a conversation but he simply ignored me while he ate. Soon our waiter came back to our table to check on us, and gave me a puzzled look.

"Did you not like your food?" he asked me, and I blushed deeply, unsure of what to say.

Unfortunately for me, Sir answered for me. "Oh, no, I am sure that she will love it when it is her turn to eat," he said to the waiter in a tone of explanation. "She is not allowed to eat until I have finished." I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but was instead forced to remain and endure the waiter's smirk at me as he left.

Sir continued eating, unconcerned, while I tried to will my face to stop blushing. I was convinced that he was taking as long as possible to finish eating, and this was confirmed when, after he was done, he ordered a dessert. By the time it arrived and he finished eating it, my food was stone cold. "You can eat now, toy," he told me, with a wicked grin on his face.

I began to eat my nasty, cold meal, hating every bite of it. Sir occasionally chuckled at the faces I was making, as did the waiter when he refilled out glasses. I managed to finish the entire meal, although I did not want to. When I was done, I asked if I could pee before we left.

"Sure," he said, "but while you are in there, you must put this in and turn it on high." As he said this, he handed me a small but wide vibrator, making no pains to hide it, and I wanted to protest. Fortunately for me, though, I thought better of it, and began to put it in my pocket. "No, no," he said, "carry it in your hand. I am sure that if anyone sees you they will just know that you have it because you are obviously an insatiable slut."

I blushed deeply again, and carried it in my hand to the bathroom. I passed several people on the way, a few of whom obviously saw what I was carrying and one man who even winked at me. I went into a stall hurriedly and shut the door behind me. I relived my bladder, and then inserted the vibrator. It was wide enough to cause me to feel definitely full. I turned it on high as instructed, and realized that I was going to have a very long trip home. The vibrations felt immensely good, but Sir knew that I could not get off from this type of pleasure, and would only be very very horny the entire way.

I made my way back to the table, trying not to show the arousal that I was feeling. When I got to the table, our waiter was there chatting with Sir, and I had a bad feeling about that. "Oh, welcome back slut," he said, in full hearing of the waiter, who just gave me a grin. "I have been talking to our waiter here, and he has agreed to take a slightly smaller tip in exchange for you showing him those tits of yours. You know how tight money is these days, so I agreed to it. Isn't that great?"

He clearly expected a response from me, and I knew what to say, but I did not want to. I managed to make myself do so however, uttering a sufficiently loud "Yes Sir," before bowing my head in shame again.

"Well then, get with it!" he said, pointing at my tits. I lifted them both out of my shirt, not looking at the waiter as I did so.

"No, I want her to look at me while she does it," the waiter said, surprising me.

"You heard him, slut, look him in the eyes while you show him your whore tits," Sir commanded me. I managed somehow to lift my head up and look the waiter in the eyes as I held my tits for his eyes to peruse.

"Can I touch them?" he asked Sir, not caring whether or not I wanted him to.

"Sure, why not," Sir said, and the waiter grabbed them firmly, one in each hand. He fondled them gently for a few seconds, and then let go. Before he stopped, though, he gave each pierced nipple a quick twist, causing me to bite my lip again in order to prevent crying out.

"Yeah, you were right, those are great tits," he told Sir, grinning ear to ear and obviously sporting a boner in his pants. I wondered idly if he would masturbate to this memory later. Perhaps even on a lunch break in the bathroom. The thought made me smile a little, until I realized that I still had my boobs out in full view.

"Can I cover myself now Sir?" I asked hopefully, and he just nodded. He paid the waiter and then we left, me trying to walk normally with the vibrator still buzzing away in my pussy. When we arrived at the car, he went to the driver's side, so I figured out that he was going to be driving home. I stood by the passenger side door waiting to be let in, but Sir instead unlocked the back door.

I opened the back door, puzzled. "Why this door, Sir?" I asked him.

"Because you don't deserve to sit up front with me," he answered, getting in and shutting the door behind him. I got in as well, and shut the door. "Also, because you are going to lay down back there, take off all of your clothes, and then masturbate the entire way home, but you aren't allowed to cum, so don't even think about asking." I did as I was told, and lay down in the back seat. He waited until I had taken off all of my clothing before starting up the car and driving off. I began to move the vibrator in and out of me with one hand, while fingering my clit with the other. It felt very good, and I knew that I was going to have to control myself in order to not cum on the way home.

"New rule," Sir said at the first stoplight. "Every time I have to stop at a light or a stop sign, you have to slap yourself as hard as you can on your clit 5 times. If I do not think it is hard enough, you will do 10 extra. Got it?" he asked.

"Yes Sir," I said, and hit myself as hard as I could on my clit. I repeated it four more times, and by the fifth one, I hoped that we did not have many more stops before we got back home. By the time we made it home, I was so close to coming that I wanted to cry, and hoped dearly that Sir would be kind and let me get off at some point.

When we got to the house, he stopped the car, and then grabbed my clothes. "I expect you inside within the next 5 minutes, but you do not get your clothes," he said. "Run, walk, get creative, I don't care, but you aren't getting your clothes back." He then got out of the car and headed for the door, unlocking it and going inside.

I wasn't sure what to do, but decided that my best option was probably just to make a run for it, and hope that no one drove by or stepped outside right at that moment. I quickly got out of the car and ran for the front door, which Sir had thankfully left unlocked. I went inside, and found Sir sitting on the couch, smiling at me.

"Have fun running inside naked?" he asked me mischievously.

"Not really, Sir," I replied. We went downstairs, the vibrator still buzzing away inside me. Sir had me lay back down on the coffee table on my back, and then proceeded to duct tape the vibrator inside me.

"Don't move," he said, and I tried to lay still. He then grabbed the candle that he had previously gotten out of the bag and lit it. He sat it on the table between my legs, and went back upstairs. He returned with a tray of ice cubes and the plastic freeze tube that went inside my water bottle. He set these down and picked the candle back up.

He then raised it above my breasts and tipped it ever so slightly. I felt the drips land on my left breast and nipple moments before I felt the pain of the heat. It was painful, but also oddly pleasant. I then felt a sharp cold on my right nipple as more drops of hot wax landed on my left. The sensations of both hot and cold were interesting when at the same time, and I moaned.

"Liking this then, slut?" he asked me, and I nodded. He continued this for quite a while, alternating hot and cold on both breasts, as well as my tummy. Then, all of a sudden, he ripped the duct tape holding the vibrator in place off, took out the vibrator, and shoved the frozen tube inside my warm cunt. It was cold enough to shock me quite thoroughly, and I cried out at the new sensation. He just laughed at me, and fucked me roughly with the cold intruder.

He left it sticking out of me, and began to drip the hot wax on my crotch. I was greatly enjoying the sensations flooding through me. I began to drift into a weird sort of headspace, where I felt like I was watching my body lying on the table. Sadly, Sir soon tired of this, and put out the candle and put the ice back into the freezer.

I lay still where I was, partly because I was still recovering from the enjoyment of the hot/cold treatment, and partly because I had not yet been told that I was allowed to move. "Get up already," he said to me, and I stood, a bit wobbly on my feet. "All right then, slut, time for your punishment," he told me, and retrieved his computer. He opened it up, and I began to get nervous when I saw that he was getting the webcam set up to record.

"What exactly is my punishment, Sir?" I asked him nervously.

"Well," he started, "you are going to be putting on a little show on camera. Because you are being punished for pissing on the toilet lid, you will begin by pissing your pants for the camera. You will then take your vibrating bullet, and you will get yourself off on camera. You will preface all of this by telling the camera why you are being punished. I will then post the video online for all to see. I will be nice to you, however, and will make sure that your face is covered. Got it whore?"

I wasn't really sure how to respond to this, as the idea terrified me. I had no desire to have the humiliation of pissing my pants on camera for anyone to see, and I was nervous about the idea of trying to get myself off knowing that people would be watching it. "I understand, Sir, but it terrifies me," I said to him.

"Too bad, you should have thought of that before you earned the punishment," he replied. He then picked up a small paper bag from our pile of bags, and got out a sharpie. He wrote "Filthy incontinent whore" in big black letters on the bag, and then cut out little eye holes. He then went into the bedroom and brought out my baggy ugly sweatpants and told me to put them on.

"I have to wear these, Sir?" I asked him, giving a pouty face. I had no desire to be on camera in such ugly pants, it made the humiliation even worse.

"Yes, you do," he told me. "What, you think that you deserve to wear something attractive while you piss yourself and wank off? I don't think so." I pouted at him some more, but he would not relent. He put the bag on my head and made me put on the pants, and then positioned me so that I was in view of the camera. He handed me my vibrator, and told me to start.

I wasn't sure how to start, but I knew that if I did nothing I would only get in more trouble, so I quickly thought of what to say. "Um, Sir is making me make this video because I could not pee like he told me to without making a mess. So this is my punishment." I then looked to him for guidance, unsure of myself, and he just nodded at me.

I really did need to pee, so I didn't think that I would have any trouble going on camera, but wetting yourself on command in front of other people, even if they are virtual people, is really hard to do. It took me a couple minutes of trying, but eventually I was able to release my hold on my bladder, and the warm liquid began to darken the crotch of my sweatpants and run down the legs. Before long, I was standing in a small puddle of my urine, feeling utterly ashamed and disgusting, and being very glad that no one could see how much I was blushing at least.

At his insistent nod, I took the vibrator and put it inside my wet pants and began to play with myself. I knew that he wanted a good show for the camera, so I tried to make sure that I didn't hold back any noises as I approached my orgasm. After all of the teasing earlier in the car, I didn't think it would take me very long, but once again I was wrong. I am not very good at getting off in front of anyone, so it took several minutes before I felt my climax approaching.

As my orgasm overtook me, my head went back and my legs began to shake. I wondered if I would be able to stand or if I was going to collapse, but I managed to stay on my feet. I moaned loudly as I came, enjoying the sensations flooding me and temporarily forgetting about the camera watching me and the video soon to be watched by many others.

Once I came back to earth, without even thinking I said "Thank you Sir," and he nodded and then turned off the webcam. I had not intended that comment for the camera, but I supposed it was as good of an ending to the video as any. "Are you really going to post that online, Sir?" I asked, hoping that he had just been tormenting me and not really been serious.

"Of course I am," he said, and sat down at the computer to do so. I gulped audibly, and the asked him if I could clean myself up. He said "sure" dismissively, and went back to what he was doing. I took off the dirty pants, threw them and all the other clothes I had dirtied today in the laundry, and started it washing, while I took a long, hot, relaxing shower. I noticed as I did so that my tits were beginning to bruise, and wondered idly if that was visible in the video.

When I finished up and dried off, I went out and knelt beside Sir, who was still on the computer. "Is it posted, Sir?" I asked him. He nodded.

"On several different sites," he said, and I gulped again. "I have emailed you the links. I think that you should go there daily to see what people are saying about a slut like you, don't you?" he asked me evilly.

"If I have to, Sir, ok," I replied, not thrilled about the idea. As I knelt there, he grabbed my hair in one hand, while putting the computer aside with the other. He pulled my head to his crotch, and unzipped his jeans. I could see right away that he was hard as a rock.

"I don't think it is fair that you should have as many orgasms today as me, do you slut?" he asked me, pulling me head closer to his erection. I opened my mouth in response, and he shoved my head onto his hard cock. I tried to lick and tease him, but he refused to allow me to have control, using my hair to push my head onto and off of his cock at his own desired pace.

After a bit of being mostly gentle with me, he took my head and forced it all the way down onto his erection, causing me to gag as his cock tried, and eventually succeeded at, entering my throat. He held my head there, all the way down to his stomach, for what seemed like an eternity. I could not breathe, and my gag reflex kept trying to kick in, but he did not relent. Finally he pulled my head off, and I was able to grab a breath, before he pulled me all the way back down again, eliciting the same response from me this time, although he did not keep me there as long.

He began to fuck my face fast now, forcing himself into my throat each time, ignoring my gagging. There was no finesse in it, only pure and simple lust and need. I was greatly enjoying his treatment of me, in spite of my gag reflex, enjoying just being used as a tool for his pleasure. The idea made me feel happy inside, and I felt contented.

He continued for quite a long time, far longer than I expected, before I heard him groan and hold my head all the way down on his cock once again, and felt his warm seed spill down my throat. Once he was finished, he pulled all the way out and had me lick his softening cock until it was completely clean.

When I was finished, I lay my head on his knee, resting from a long day, as he once again began to spend time on the computer. I knew that my husband would be home soon, so Sir would probably not do anything else with me for now, and I was honestly relieved for the break, but a tiny bit sad that it had to end. As much as I hated the pain and humiliation that he brought me, I loved the pleasure that it gave him, which is where I derived my pleasure.