Out in the Open

I jump as my phone buzzes, even though I knew he'd call.

"You're timing is as impeccable as ever," I say as I accept the call, weaving my way out of the elevator.

"Let me guess," bemusement laces his rich baritone. "You are just heading through the entrance hall, right?"

"Yes." I angle my head to hold my phone between cheek and shoulder as I fiddle with the zipper of my coat. My short brown curls settle half over my face, making me curse under her breath.

"Well, no stopping. Go straight to the hotel. Room 4601."

"Anything else?" I stop to set down my briefcase and finally close my coat.

"I said no stopping."

"It's windy out there," I pout as I roll my eyes.

"We haven't even begun, and you are already talking back little one." My knees go soft at my pet name. "I want to make this evening special. But if you prefer, we can start it with punishment because you are late ..."

"Alright, alright! I'll be there in five minutes."

"You know what happens if you don't keep your word."

"Yes." I quickly hang up, grab my briefcase and head for the revolving doors.

Our hotel of choice is just around the corner from where I work. But I know I have no time to spare. As I weave my way through the packed sidewalk, trying not to slow down, my mind goes back to our 'special date nights' -- that's what we like to call them. Tom would plan it out meticulously, surprising me with various bondage scenarios. We use the hotel for anonymity, as well as not being bogged down with household chores.

In the hotel lobby I pummel the up button at the elevator as glance around. This space is full of memories. He had felt me up as we kissed against that wall over there. And just beyond those doors is the restaurant where we dined whilst he edged me with a remote-controlled vibrator. I flush as I look at the reception desk: he had left me an envelope with detailed instructions. Upon his orders, I had gone to the toilets just across the hall, removed my panties and sealed them in the envelope. Back at the reception desk, I handed it to the unsuspecting clerk for Tom to pick up later: Him in slacks and tie, me in a tight corset and short skirt, with nothing underneath.

Finally, the elevator dings open. I'm going to be late, that's for sure. As the elevator makes its way up, stopping twice, my mind goes back to Tom's hints. As always, he has left me in the dark about what he wants to do with me. But he has indicated that he wants to up our game tonight.

I step out onto the fourth floor with a shiver and jog along the doors to find 4601. The door swings open immediately at my knock. "Do you call this five minutes?"

"The elevator took forever," I try. When he doesn't answer, I set my briefcase just inside the door and then turn around, presenting my wrists behind my back while I glance up and down the empty corridor.

"You decided to say five minutes, not me." The cold metal against my wrists and the ratcheting sound of the cuffs send shivers down my spine. "Thanks to you, I now have to delay my plans to ensure you start thinking on your feet!"

"Sorry." I follow his tugs on the cuffs, backing slowly into the room.

He leaves me standing next to the bed while he closes the door. I know what he expects, so I kick off my pumps, unzip my skirt and set about wriggling it down my legs with my restrained hands.

"Good girl. You know you deserve it, right?" Tom leans against the wall watching me. "Tell me again what your punishment is."

"Five swats for every minute I'm too late." I bend to the side, my hands guiding the fabric over my knees.

"And how many minutes do you think you were late?"

I bite my lip. When I go too low, he doubles my punishment. If I go too high, he'll give me my suggested number. I should have looked at the clock on my phone! "Five?"

"So you want 25 swats? I'm starting to think you do this on purpose and actually like your punishments."

Panting, I kick my skirt to one side and eyeing him. By the sound of it, I wasn't that late after all.

"Three minutes, little one. Think about that whilst you take that extra ten." He pushes away from the wall, walks past me and sits down on the bed.

Without hesitation, I come to him and bend over. He helps me lie across his lap. His left hand grips the cuffs, keeping my hands clear of my lower back, as his right hand aims and -- "One ... thank you. He sure knows to pace them so I can take it, yet I'll feel them for a long time.

"There." His hand strokes over my tenderised buttocks. I resist the urge to push against it. My pussy wants to beg for his touch. But going by our past dates, it will have to wait. "Now, you go and shower. No touching yourself. I will lay out everything in the meantime."

I slip from his lap into a kneeling position. Yet before I can struggle to my feet, he cups my chin and kisses me deeply. "Ready for an awesome night?" His voice is suddenly husky.

"Yes," I whisper as I take in his dark eyes, framed by a tumble of auburn curls. "I can't wait to see ..."

He places a finger on my lips. "Shh. No talking, little one." He reaches around, unlocks my cuffs and then just leaves me kneeling there.

I am soon in the shower. The sound of the rushing water completely masks whatever he is doing in the adjoining room. But it also washes away my long workday and soothes my stinging ass a little.

I shriek. My eyes snap opening, my arms wrap around me as I try to escape the suddenly icy water cascading over me.

"That's long enough, little one." His hand, still on the tap, shuts the water off. The shower curtain flies open to reveal him standing there with a fluffy towel. He wraps me in it and tenderly rubs me dry. The biting cold is quickly replaced by his warm embrace.

He soon walks me back into the main room, where he dresses me in his favourite dress and locking heels. I give him a quizzical look, but he ignores me and walks me out of our room.

Only once we are in the restaurant and have ordered our dinner does he finally speak: "Now, you will be honest with me. I aim to push you tonight, but only as far as you allow. After our meal, we will return to the room to prepare for a long walk in the park. Whilst we eat, we'll discuss the various elements I have brought along. Each element you accept scores you points. Anything you don't accept will not cause any subtractions or punishments. However, I will subtract points if you are not honest with me. Deal?"

I nod and cock my head. "And for what am I gathering points?"

"To use on me. I want you to dominate me the next time we play."

"Seriously?"

He nods with a smile. "I think it would do you good to turn the tables, even if it is just a one-off experiment. I have written up a chart of how you can translate those points to dominate me. It's in an envelope at the reception desk, where we will pick it up later. But let's focus on our meal and chat."

He lapses into silence and watches me take in the news as his thumb caresses my knuckles across the table, his strong, slender fingers cup my mine. I resist the urge to squirm in my chair.

When our waiter has brought us our food, Tom finally breaks the silence again. "Bon appetite." He releases my hand to pick up his knife and fork. "Now, before I discuss the elements: whatever you agree to will stay on all the while we are out. I think you should count on it being at least an hour, perhaps longer. So keep that in mind as we go over everything." He starts talking me through each element between bites. All the while, he encourages me to ask questions but also redirects my hands when they want to wander.

When our plates are empty, he reaches over the table again to squeeze my hand. "You are absolutely sure about your decision?"

"Yes," I'm breathless and scoop up my glass to drain its last drops. "I want to accept all you have chosen."

"I'm impressed, little one. I had hoped you'd be so brave but didn't dare to dream. That means you earn the full 100 points."

I gaze into his eyes. My heart is racing at the prospect of what I have agreed to. But the love and awe in his eyes spur me on. I nod resolutely.

I've given up trying not to wriggle in my chair. But thankfully, Tom quickly settles everything with the waiter, and we retrace our steps back to the room.

When the door snaps closed, he flicks back the covers of the bed, and I gasp at the sight. He has arranged all the elements we have discussed. I stare from one to the next, recalling what he told me to expect.

"Open," his voice is commanding again as he leans over and grabs the first items from the bed.

I do as I'm told and allow him to work a wad of cloth into my mouth and seal my lips closed with bondage tape. He kisses my trapped lips long and sensually, giving me time to adapt to the feeling. When he finally pulls away, I give him an encouraging nod to continue.

He grabs the tape again, gathers my fingers into a fist and wraps them snugly. I allow my mind to drift as he works. After my hands are rendered useless, he undresses me. More tape claims the base of each of my breasts, making them balloon and stand out. They suddenly feel twice as big, heavy and tender. He takes a break to suck on my left nipple, eliciting a moan from my bound mouth. Knowing what he has in store for my nipples makes my knees go weak as he switches to my right one.

"Easy there." He chuckles, pulling back and looking up at me. "We haven't even started the fun."

All I can do is gaze back at him. But he quickly turns away and grabs the next item: a string of Ben Wa balls. He kneels in front of me, but instead of him pressing the first ball against my vulva, I shudder under his searching tongue. He takes his time, tickling my bud, licking my lips and dipping deep into me. My breathing quickens, and I'm starting to realise how helpless I am. If my knees give, my hands are useless, as I can't hold onto anything. I'd have to aim for the bed and hope he'll help me.

I want to gasp when he pushes the first ball into me. But it is little more than a sharp intake of breath thanks to my bound mouth. The ball is barely in me when his tongue is back, stoking my arousal and causing my hips to rock. The vibrations of the Ben Wa ball hit me, but his expert cunnilingus ensures I can't stop moving.

When the third ball goes in, I'm ready to beg. But I can't. And I don't know what I want to beg for. That he doesn't add the last? That he lets me cum? Neither will happen. I know that leaving the last one out is not an option, as he wants to take me outside. But will I even manage to walk with them, constantly driving me crazy?

"Still ok to continue?" He presses the last one against my lips.

"Mmhmm," I respond. I want to see this through. I'm horny, thinking of how proud he will be.

The last ball makes me groan my lust and frustration.

"I love you too, little one." He kisses my clit. "Now hold those inside for me." His hands disappear as he retrieves the next item. But soon, his tongue is back, teasing me as slippery fingers probe my butt. I know what is coming, and my anticipation chases my arousal as he prepares me. I want to ask him to slip a second finger in, but all I can do is moan.

"Don't you dare cum, little one. I want you nice and frustrated. Do you know how beautiful you are when you are desperate?" His probing finger leaves me only to be replaced by the cool tip of the buttplug.

"Maybe I should make you watch your reflection, so you know what I mean." He turns me to face a mirror hanging on the wall. "Can you see it in your eyes?"

Yes, I can. But what is more, I can see how helpless I am: the tape gag ... my useless fists. I feel myself flush as I watch the rise and fall of my taped breasts. My eyes flick back to my gaze, and I have to agree with him: my arousal is clearly visible. My bluish grey eyes are brimming, with lust pulling me even deeper into my horniness. As he pushes the buttplug into me, my reflection hypnotises me: Helpless, panting, aroused. My hands head for my breasts, only to find they can do little more than pat them like kitten paws.

"You're quite the sight, huh?" His eyes meet mine in the reflection. "And you'll be even more stunning once we're done." He pushes the plug further into me. The way it opens my ass up not only has me moaning again but also adds a little more taint to my already rosy cheeks. In turn, I wonder how red my ass cheeks still are.

"Now, you are sure about no panties?" I feel him guide the loop of the Ben Wa ball string over the flared base of the buttplug.

I nod resolutely. His fingers secure the string around its base, ensuring that if I lose the balls, they will hang between my legs. I know he loves it when I'm out in public without any panties on. These balls are big enough that I don't have to clench all the time. But yes, they are not that big that they can't come out on their own. But it's a thrill I want to explore.

Once the string is snuggly wound around the plug, he attaches an inflator to the latter and pumps it up to the point that I can no longer expel it.

"Time to make you presentable, don't you think?" He holds up a latex mask. I've worn it before, so I know it fits well and looks very realistic. Unless someone comes right up to me and looks closely, nobody will know this is not my real face, nor that I am gagged underneath.

I sit down on the bed, ignoring my protesting pussy and ass and allow him to work the mask over my face. I watch in the mirror as the features ripple and undulate, slowly claiming my identity and hiding the secret of my muteness beneath. As he adjusts the ears, I wriggle my jaw and watch the face in the mirror imitate my movements perfectly. When he adds the long-haired wig and arranges the soft blonde curls around my face, I struggle to remember that I am trapped underneath it.

"Not as beautiful as my little one. But I look forward to seeing her flushed face when I unwrap her later," he purrs.

He turns his attention to thigh-high boots. His practised hands work the lacing quickly. As he smoothes out the wrinkles, my pussy gets hopeful again. But his hands do not finish the journey upwards, leaving me with a throbbing longing between my thighs.

"Up you get," he grunts as he pulls me to my feet.

I squeal into my gag due to the sudden onslaught of the balls inside me.

"You better get used to that. I will not have you making a fool of either of us in the park." He picks up the next item from the bed. "Still ok with everything?"

I nod, turn around and direct my hands behind me so he can pull the leather trench coat over my arms and shoulders. It's an old double-fronted coat we found in a thrift shop. He has made some adaptions over time. But the newest one he described to me has set my heart racing.

He turns me to face him, arranges the leather across my breasts and closes the internal zip he installed. I gasp as his fingers pinch my nipple. He has removed part of the leather to let my nipple through, where --

My gasp comes out as a hiss, as the clamp claims my nipple. He fiddles around with it, attaching the clamp to the inside of the outer flap. I close my watering eyes as he repeats the process with the other nipple. He quickly zips the flap closed and padlocks both zippers to eyelets he has set into the leather."You get those hands where they belong," he mutters as his fingers close the buttons hiding any trace of the alterations.

I'm still adapting to the clamps but do as I'm told. My useless hands find the pockets where the insides have been removed. The clamps aren't too tight. But I know I'll be feeling my nipples and bulging boobs rub against the leather and receive the occasional tug from the clamps. As I continue to contemplate my plight, he finishes my bondage by cuffing my wrists within the coat and closing the remaining buttons. He closes the collar and secures it with yet another lock.

"Walk to the door and back. This is your last chance to have me remove or change something."

I slowly make my way through the room and use every step to experiment with how I can minimise the vibration coming from the balls deep inside me. The heeled boots, of course, ensure that I can't stop the torment altogether. But I soon realise that smaller steps will help me survive the ordeal.

"You look so sexy. If I didn't know how frustrated you'll be after our walk, I'd throw my plans to the wind and fuck your right now." His voice is dripping with arousal. Indeed when I glance at his crotch, I can see his bulge proclaiming the truth his words are.

"So, any last changes?" he folds his arms and watches me.

I shake my head resolutely and walk back to him. Each step underlines my request and agreement to start my evening of bondage.

Out in the park, I am truly grateful for the mask. The reality of what we are doing comes crashing in fast as we walk past people. Tom greets some passersby warmly, leaving me to offer an expressionless nod. I can feel myself go beet red under the mask as I recognise one of my colleagues walking past with his son. Indeed I am so surprised at recognising him I almost lose a Ben Wa ball.

Tom squeezes my arm with a chuckle. "Hold it together, little one. You are doing marvellously."

I snuggle into his embrace, lapping up his praise and support. But the shift comes at a price: each step gets the balls going more now. With a sigh, I straighten up again, so I can resume my carefully measured steps.

"I wish you could tell me what you are feeling," he whispers into the wig. "But maybe I can guess." He stops and turns towards me, pressing a sensual kiss to the mask's lips. "If your hands were free, they'd sneak their way to my junk. If your mouth were free, I'd be sucking your tongue. But then, deep down, you know this is even better as you have given up control. I know how much you love being in my hands, at my mercy."

I treasure his tight embrace, even though that means the nipple clamps are digging into my bound boobs. My bound hands press forward against his thighs, trying to do just what he described.

But he chuckles: "Do you really think that will work, little one?"

I nuzzle my head into his shoulder, imitating how I'd kiss his neck if I could. My bound hand finds his bulge, and I press against it and feel it twitch under my touch.

"That won't speed things up. Even if you made me lose control: the keys are in the room."

These simple words have me moaning. The realisation of how loud I am has me blushing under the mask again, my arousal galloping through me once more. My hips press forward into him, desperate for his touch. But the sudden movement sets my head spinning as the Ben Wa balls assault me once more.

"I think my little one is getting really horny. But I'll tell you a secret: you are turning me on as well." He kisses the top of my head and then turns us around to continue our walk.

"You know, I wonder what you'd do if I proposed to bend you over right here in the park," he murmurs close to my ear after a while. "I could pull those balls out and fuck you with everyone watching."

My breathing hitches and my foot slips on a stone. His tight embrace ensures I don't even stumble, but he has registered how deep his words have gone. "You like that fantasy, huh?"

I nod, blushing for nobody to see.

"You know, I love it, too. Let's hold onto it for when we are back in the room. Make it detailed." He guides me over to a bench. "Take in this setting here: the smells, the people milling around. I want you to be able to recall this exact spot vividly. Can you do that for me?"

I nod again. I wish I could run my hands over the bench or try out a few positions, so I can fully build the scene. But then, standing here with him, unable to do much more than look, listen and smell, I am already in the scene. It is as if I am watching us mere steps away. A vision of my shoulders resting on the back of the bench as he pounds into me while I watch the people walk by. I can imagine their faces, some looking in surprise, others aroused or affronted. Yet my humiliation, arousal and lust are hidden by the mask. The only indication of my building orgasm would be my shaking legs and moans.