Slave Zoe's Folsom Weekend

When I was clean, she straightened, and then deliberately lowered her crotch to my lips. I parted her labia with her tongue, and then I licked and sucked at her clit. Her natural scent was pleasing, and beyond that I also smelled a hint of some floral perfume. I kept at it for a minute. Then she stood, and, putting her arm around a woman waiting off to the side, walked off into the crowd.

"Well, that's lunch," said Master. He helped me up, brushed crud from the pavement off my back, used a wipe from his backpack to clean me off a little further, and we walked off to see more of Folsom.

Chapter 12: Pickup Play

Soon after we finished lunch, Master got the blindfold mask out of his backpack and put it on me. I heard a bit of jingling, and then he fastened leather cuffs around my wrists and locked them behind my back. This made me a bit self-conscious, being in public with my breasts and belly exposed-especially my belly, since I am a big girl-but a minute later a piece of rope was put around the back of my neck. I could feel that it was holding up something rigid that extended from my breasts to my belly button. It bounced slightly as we walked along.

We'd been walking along this way for a minute or two, pushing our way through the crowd, when someone said in our direction, "Hey, I'd like to tie her. Like it says on the sign. What do I need to do?"

Master replied, "Do you have any experience with rope?"

"No."

"OK, let's give you a lesson. First, take her clothes off. It's a lot more fun to tie up a naked sub. Yeah, like that." The sign was removed from my neck, then a pair of hands grasped the waistband of my bike shorts and pulled them down. I stepped out of them. I was still in my thong, but it was removed quickly too.

I could hear Master rummaging in his backpack. "Here's what we're going to use first. Take it and push it in." I felt cold metal probing at my backside, then it pressed against my asshole and pushed in. Three successive times, protuberances pushed into my rectum, and then cold metal nestled between my cheeks and curved up against my lower back. I was wearing an anal hook with three progressively sized "pleasure balls." The pressure released and the hook stayed in place.

"Now let's anchor the rope." I felt a pull on the hook. Undoubtedly this was a rope being tied to the loop on the end of the anal hook, probably a lark's head given Master's predilection for shibari.

"And wrap around here... and again. Careful, don't twist your ropes." The rope was brought diagonally across my back and then around my body, twice, just above the breasts. It pulled on the anal hook. "Oh, that's not tight enough. Try again." The rope was unwrapped, then redone the same way again. Now it really pulled on the anal hook. Anything in my anus always makes me wet, and this was no exception. I was enjoying it very much.

"OK, then under and back and we fix it in place with a friction, like so." The rope tightened further as the diagonal rope was brought to the center and tied off.

Master continued instructing like that until the two of them had me in a tie that must have resembled a takate kote except for the innovative use of cuffs and an anal hook. At that point, the unknown man said "thank you" to Master and walked off. Master then put the sign back around my neck and started guiding me through the crowd again. I was blind of course, but he kept a firm grip on the stem of the rope tie and used it to steer me left and right and to push forward. A sharp pull on the tie was a good way both to stop me and make me gasp from the sudden pressure in my rectum.

We stopped again and Master spoke to someone in a low voice. Then he guided me a little further and told me to lean forward. I was up against a wall or a building, leaning toward with my forehead just touching it. My ass stuck out backward and my breasts hung down in front of me. I imagined them bulging through the ropes. Everyone looks good in rope.

A burst of pain, a hand smack against one asscheek, brought me out of my daydream. I cried out and giggled, not so much from the pain, which I quickly realized was minor, as from surprise. A moment later, I was hit the same way on the other cheek.

"You should hit harder than that," Master said. The spanking continued for some time, with Master coaching my unseen assailant on just how to do it. Sometimes the blows would brush the anal hook. This did not hurt, but it did drive the hook slightly deeper and make me giggle and yelp.

"Here, try this. You use it like this." A sharp gash of pain licked over my ass. This had to be the new quirt. I could feel the exact shape of the tails on each of my cheeks. Then a much weaker stroke hit them. After some more coaching, my ass was on fire from repeated lashes of the quirt.

Master must have had most of his toybox in his backpack. No wonder it had looked heavy. He went methodically through half a dozen impact toys, showing members of the crowd (I was sure there was more than one) how to best use them on me. By the time they were done, my ass, thighs, and legs smarted. I wondered how long it would be before I could sit down comfortably again.

Chapter 13: Final Exam

Master pulled off the blindfold hood and stared into my eyes. "Slave Zoe, look at me," he said. I raised my eyes, blinking in the suddenly bright light, and gazed back at him. "Your mid-term is tomorrow and I promised to help you study. That's what we're doing next. For Folsom, consider this your final exam."

"This is going to be a hot scene and you've been through a lot already so, here, have some more water." This brought my mind back to how badly I had to pee, which had of course gotten worse as the day had progressed. I tried to signal what I needed by crossing my legs and pointing at my crotch, but Master just laughed and said, "Yes, I know you're a horny slut, but public sex isn't allowed even here and you're on orgasm denial anyway." I was exasperated at his ignorance-was it willful?-but I still allowed him to tip back my head and pour more water into me.

"This is what we're going to do. I've recruited a group of volunteers," he said as he gestured at the sign hanging from my neck. I looked down at it. It was a small whiteboard, which currently said, "WANT TO HELP THE SLUT STUDY? TALK TO MY MASTER." I looked up and noticed a group standing behind him. They were grinning.

"The volunteers are going to hold you in place." As he spoke, two of them came forward and moved behind me. Each of them took hold of one of my arms, which were themselves still held in place by cuffs and rope. Then a second pair of volunteers came forward. They grabbed onto my legs and spread them apart until they were just short of uncomfortably wide. As they did it I was glad to have my arms held because otherwise I would have been a risk of falling forward onto my face.

With my cunt lips on display like this, I was more exposed than ever. It was somehow much more degrading to be held by people than to be tied to a cross or to be ordered to stay in place. It was like Master didn't trust me to obey him or to stay where I'm put. And it was the end of a long day, and a long weekend, when I'd had little sleep and no rest. And I had to pee so very badly, I wanted to cross my legs to hold it in, but of course they were spread wide and held in place. I was on the verge of some kind of breakdown. And Master was just preparing to test me further! On academic matters that had been so far from my mind all day! I closed my eyes for a moment to center myself.

"Pay attention!" cried Master. "I am going to ask you a series of questions"-he brandished my flashcards at me-"and you will answer them. For this purpose, you may speak. If you answer a question correctly, I will use the flogger on your boobs"-he knows I love that-"but if you get it wrong, I will hit your genitals with the quirt. Do you understand?" I laughed a little at him saying "genitals"-it was ridiculously clinical-but I really didn't want the quirt hitting my clit, so it was a serious threat. I nodded.

Master stepped back. I hadn't taken a good look at him all day, but now he was all I saw. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and black jeans, held up with a red leather belt. On his feet, he wore black motorcycle boots. Carabinered to his left belt loop was his favorite flogger; on his right, the quirt. In his hands, he held the stack of flashcards. I felt so much love for him. He knew what I needed and craved, how to give it to me, how to take care of me, and he even worked hard to make sure I did well in school. My heart glowed and my cunt dripped.

He picked up the first card and read it, loudly, so the whole crowd could hear. "True or false? Every regular language is finite."

This one was easy and I answered immediately. "False, Master!"

"Very good, Zoe!" Master said. He unclipped the flogger from his belt loop and struck my left boob and then my right boob. It felt really good. My boobs can take a lot of punishment but floggers are like soft caresses on them.

I'd gone through all the flashcards the previous morning, so I was familiar with them. Most of them were going to be easy for me like this.

He kept going. "True or false? The language of all collections of balanced parentheses is a regular language."

Another easy one. "False, Master!"

"Correct!" Master said, and he flogged my boobs again. I was starting to feel comfortable with the process. Maybe I wouldn't have to get the quirt on my "genitals" after all.

But Master had different ideas. He got right up in my face. "Zoe!" he said, raising his voice. He actually looked angry. I wasn't used to that. His strongest emotions tend to well up in me, too. It made me feel uncomfortable again. My tiredness, my sleepiness, my need to pee, they surged back into my mind.

Master had kept going, heedless of my emotional state. He was pacing back and forth, barely looking my way. "These are TOO EASY for you!" Dramatically, he threw the stack in the air. They drifted down slowly, falling this way and that. He paused, watching them. I was suffering. There was something performative about it, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

He turned back to me. "Who's in charge here? I can't rely on flashcards that you made, sub. True or false is far too easy. We're going to do this my way, not yours. Here's a real question for you. Listen up! A nondeterministic finite automaton whose alphabet is the two letters 'a' and 'b' has two states. State 1, the start state, has a transition to state 2 for 'a' and to itself for 'b'. State 2 is an accept state and transitions to state 1 for 'a' and to itself for 'b'. Describe the language that this NFA accepts."

This question was definitely not in my flashcards. I wondered how Master came up with it on the fly. Did he plan this whole scene in advance? I closed my eyes and visualized the NFA. I was sweating, tired, horny, and I had to pee. And I didn't want to be quirted on my clit. I would have fallen down if I hadn't had four men holding me up.

"Answer, slut!"

My eyes snapped open. "Master, it is the language of an odd number of 'a's and any number of 'b's!"

He paused. I continued sweating. I could feel him staring at me. I looked at my feet. I was worried. Did I get it wrong? I knew I was a good slut, the best I knew how. I was all but panting. I tensed.

"That's correct! Good girl!" he snapped out. I relaxed again and a wave of relief swept over me. I wanted, so much, to make Master proud of me. I love being his good girl! But could I take any more of this?

"Next question! Consider another NFA over the same alphabet and start and accept states as before. State 1 transitions to itself for 'a' and to state 2 for 'b', state 2 to state 1 for 'a' and itself for 'b'. What is the minimum number of 'a's in the language this NFA accepts?" This was just too fucking much. I was out of juice. I stared blindly forward. Every part of my body felt inflamed. I couldn't think, I couldn't visualize, I couldn't count or study or answer. And more than anything I had to pee so, so much!

Suddenly, everything let go. I was at the end of my rope and I fell off the end. I released. I cried. I sobbed. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny piece of me that was still left could feel something trickling down my leg. Then it turned into a gush. I was peeing all over myself and it was splashing into the street. The men holding my legs let go suddenly to avoid being hit. My legs buckled and I flopped forward.

As pee gushed out of me, something else released too. It was a feeling that I'd felt many times, that I'd always related to the feeling of letting my pee go. It came involuntarily, without permission, and I noticed it a moment afterward, like an aftertaste. It was an orgasm. I'd cum.

The men holding my arms had not let go. They slowly lowered me to my knees, where I knelt in a rapidly spreading puddle. It smelled foul and I was disgusted with myself.

My slave training was solid, and I knew I had to cry out the count of my orgasm. I was ashamed, of cumming without permission, of pissing myself in the street, of having not known the answer. It was the ultimate degradation and humiliation and I knew that I'd be punished severely for cumming once again, for the second time this very weekend, without permission. I had broken the rules, I was a stupid slut who didn't know the answers, and I deserved punishment and scorn. But I was also a good slave, and I cried out, with a last gasp of energy, "ONE, Master! ONE!" One orgasm, once again.

Master stepped forward. He took my chin in his hand and made me look up at him. I knew I was in trouble. His eyes glinted again as he stared back at me. "Correct. Very good, slut. If you can do this work here, you can do it anywhere. That's the last question. And it's the end of the fair, too. Let's go home."

Master untied me, cleaned me up with wipes, dressed me in fresh clothes, and took me home and put me in bed for a nap. I was asleep before I hit the sheets.

Chapter 14: Takeoff

When I woke, my hands were free again. Whatever Master had done to release the superglue, he'd done it while I was asleep. I rubbed my hands together, glad to be able to use them again. I was no longer wearing the cuffs or my play collar. I felt a little fresher than before.

As soon as I woke, Master took me to the airport. I had a red-eye flight home, so this was late, about 10 pm. He parked and walked with me to security. I was wearing ordinary clothes now, which felt a little unusual after almost 48 hours of mostly costumes and fetishwear and nudity.

At security, Master hugged me and gave me a brief kiss. "Goodbye for now, slut. I'll miss you."

I turned to go. "I love you, Master."

"I love you, too." He winked at me, and I proceeded into the line.

Later, when I made it to the gate, he texted me my punishment for the second unpermitted orgasm. It's hard to put anything over on Master.