Supper with Mistress

Sophie just pulls a latex glove out of her pocket. In about one more second, Sophie has it pulled onto my hand. "You're right, Annie," I say in a very taunting and sly voice. "We'd better check."

I use my gloved hand to push against Chris's shoulders. It takes him by surprise, leaning him a bit over the table before he catches it and stiffens up. But by then my hand is already on its way down.

I can only see the bottoms of his cheeks. His shirt is hanging down too far, covering the top half of them. But what I can see of them looks fine to me. His globes are hairless. They're decently rounded, but they also seem to have a touch of loosens to them, as if the flesh atop his muscles has loosened up over the years. I can see a deep crack, one that's fully closed off with inside edges of his globes lying flush against each other.

It doesn't take me any trouble to get the tip of my finger between those cheeks. As I push it in, I can feel that his cheeks do have some looseness to them, but I can also feel the flesh parting easily around my finger. Then I feel the tightly clenched ring of muscle under my finger. I can feel the defined firmness of that muscle. I don't feel any funneling to it, nor do I feel it puckering out. His feels a hair wider than most, but not unusually so. It's still tightly shut, and his ring isn't any bigger than a nickel. Or so it feels. I can't see it.

"YOU'RE NOT—" Chris blurts out in a voice that's half shock, and half panic. That's all he gets out. It's cut off by his deep grunted "UGH!" as I push my finger steadily against his asshole. My finger feels his ring cinch uptight to resist. Then I feel his ring being pushed wide and my finger starting to slip into him. I feel his muscle unhappily squeezing hard around my finger as if trying to grip it and stop me. I just keep slipping into his bottom. I let all of my finger slide into his bottom until the webbing of fingers is flush against the outside of his asshole.

By the giggling looks on the girls' faces, I can tell they are seeing Chris's face scrunch up hard. Men are such babies about their bottoms!

I curl my finger inside his rectum, bringing the tip of my finger back to press against his body just inside his asshole, toward his balls. The balls I still have squished in my hand, keeping Chris fairly still for his rectal exam. I put my thumb against his body, to the strip of flesh behind his balls. I wiggle my finger, quickly finding the almond-sized gland that's his prostate.

Mindy releases his cock, letting it lie flat on the table now.

I stroke my finger over his gland softly, gently massaging it.

Everyone else stares at the show. I'm sure it's the first time that anyone has ever seen anything like this done in a restaurant. Even if it's closed and a private show.

But Chris doesn't know that. As far as he knows, this place is open for business now. I give the slightest tug on his balls. "Now you be a good little boy while I check your prostate." I firmly tell Chris.

He says nothing. He just stands there, grunting deep, and uncomfortable "UH!s". I let him get away with that for about two seconds, and maybe not quite that long.

I glance out the corners of my eyes. Susan is still sitting in her seat. By now she's clearly figured some things out. That I'm the one she was to meet. That this is a tease for Chris. And whatever is going on in this restaurant, it's clearly not offending anyone. No one has called the cops yet, anyway.

"Damn, Izzy," I hear Craig saying to Izzy, my BFF #1. those two have a table between mine and Susan's. Craig is 22, and rather stocky and good-looking. "I can't believe that dude is letting her finger his ass in front of everyone like that! What a bitch - him, not her!"

Izzy smiles wide. "So? Come on, when's the last time you got a show like this in a restaurant?"

"Never!" Craig says, "who'd do something so faggoty?"

Chris must hear it as well. I feel him tense up with the words.

I keep stroking my finger over his prostate. I've been about no more than ten seconds. "Oh, his prostate is definitely swollen. Maybe about double what it should be."

"Uhh..." Chris grunts out, drawing it out and tensing up hard as he does. A crisp shiver races over his body. "Uhm..." Chris groans out, this time his voice deep and breathy. His cock twitches crisply, this time jumping up off the table and rising about halfway up to his shirt. His cock spurts a thick stream of white, creamy cum. As it spurts, rising off the table, it jumps to his left as well. It sends the stream angling off towards Wendy. Chris grunts out another satisfied purr.

Chris's cum splats on the table, mostly in front of Wendy, a little off to her side towards Annie. It shoots a good two feet from the tip of his cock, landing fairly close to Wendy. About where her supper plate will soon be sitting.

"O-M-G!" Wendy gasps out with honest shock in her voice. "No one's even touching his dick and he's cumming all over our table!" Her voice is girly high and laced with a squeakiness. Her surprise has her voice raised loud enough for everyone to hear it, too. "Seriously??? You couldn't even wait for some girl to touch that thing?" I couldn't have scripted it any better.

Chris tenses up hard. He tries to back away. He doesn't move. Between my snug grip on his balls, and my finger in his bottom, Chris isn't moving. It forces him to stand there, his cock spurting more gooey cum at Wendy and Annie while I tease his prostate.

The audience laughs hard. It's a good enough laugh they could be in a comedy club, hearing the funniest joke. And it's everyone laughing. Except for Susan. She's just staring at Chris, her eyes disbelieving. Slowly shaking her head.

"You naughty little boy!" I sternly scold Chris in a "strict librarian" kind of voice. "Here we are trying to help you out, even after you were such a creepy pervert with my friend, and what do you do? You cum all over the nurses trying to help you! We just can't let you be that naughty. You'll have to be spanked for being so over-eager."

Chris says nothing. He just grunts another sweet purr as yet another spurt of cum shoots from his cock. At least now he's running out of cum, so this one doesn't come so close to hitting Wendy. I think she might have freaked if it had hit her.

I give his balls a very harsh squeeze. Not enough to injure him, but enough for him to really feel it. To feel slightly painful. "Bad little boy! Didn't your wife teach you any manners? What does a polite boy say when he's told something?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Chris says, his voice deep and breathy, breaking as he grunts out another moan while trying to answer. His cock twitches with renewed vigor, but he's about out of cum now.

"Good boy! Now when your tiny little penis is done leaking all that icky semen all over the table like some horny toad, I expect you to be on your best behavior while you're spanked for your disgusting indecency. Is that clear, little boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Chris answers.

Chapter 03: First Humiliations

Now that Chris is finished making a mess all over the table, and slightly grossing out Wendy, I have him standing in front of the table. And facing my group of nurses. His pants are still around his ankles. His cock is still standing out, now semi-stiff. If it's going to soften anymore, it's doing it very slowly.

"Turn around, little boy," I firmly tell Chris.

Chris blushes slightly as he turns. It forces him to see everyone so openly staring at him. There's no doubt what he's just done. Everyone could see him cock spurting cum at Wendy.

Susan stares at him just as intensely as everyone else. The look on her face is about pure surprise. I imagine that she's surprised Chris is getting this session, she wasn't expecting it. I imagine she's surprised that no one has called the police on us, or that the cafe hasn't kicked us out yet. She doesn't know that everyone except her is in on the scene. I imagine she's just as surprised that I was able to make Chris cum without touching his cock. I'll bet she's never seen him do that before.

I didn't expect it. Orgasms like that happen, but they're pretty rare. The nerves from the penis do pass close to the prostate, and it has enough of its own. But it's not usually sensitive enough to produce an orgasm. Usually. Obviously, Chris's prostate is rather sensitive. Once I saw what was happening, I just couldn't help myself. I had to follow through with it. It just made for too good of a show not to. And now, I'm already thinking about what more I can do with Chris's bottom. Clearly, his body will like about anything there, even if he doesn't.

The waitresses, Paige and Elisha, are just starting to serve the salads. As Chris stands there, looking out over the audience, Elisha takes one of the salads to his table. Maybe Chris or Susan notice that Elisha has brought only one. That she knew Chris wouldn't be dining with Susan. Or maybe they just assume Elisha skipped over him while he's not at the table. The salads are small, but I'm serving a seven-course meal with live entertainment. I figure, a few of the couples here are on dates, and a nice, fancy meal is appropriate for a date night. My guests all understand that I'm not charging for the meal, but I do expect Pam to be well-tipped. If the tips don't make up for the cost of the food, I will. But so far, Pam's made a few bucks every time I've used her cafe.

"Now let's get that naughty bottom spanked good and red for making such a mess, little boy," I tell Chris in my firm, stern-librarian, voice. "Take your clothes off, one piece at a time, fold them up neatly, and make a pile on this chair."

As he stands, the tails of his shirt cover his pubes and some of his balls. It mostly just leaves his cock standing out between its tails. And it hangs down to cover about half of his bottom. That leaves mostly his legs on display. With no clothes at all, every bit of his body is going to be fully displayed to the audience. He won't be able to tell himself that he's covered any longer.

Chris hesitates for a couple of seconds. Slowly, his head nods forward until it's hanging. "Yes, Ma'am," Chris says in a very cowed voice. He squats down and slips his shoes off to begin the pile. His socks soon join them. As do his pants and boxers. Those were still around his ankles, so taking them off amounted to almost nothing for him.

Chris reaches up and slowly opens the loop of his tie, pulling it out until he can slip it over his head. It leaves him only his shirt to take off. And that's about the only thing that's been covering his body. He reaches up and starts unbuttoning it.

His eyes remain downcast, his head hanging forward, as he unbuttons it. But I can see him watching Susan out of a corner of those eyes. Well, it's more like the top of his eyes. He watches as she glares at him, interest evident on her face. He watches as Susan calmly interacts with Elisha, accepting Elisha's offer of freshly ground pepper on her salad, while he exposes his entire body to a bunch of strangers.

He gets his shirt off. Now I have a full view of his body. As I'd suspected, he has what they call a "dad body." It's not exactly well-toned. He does have a decent build, though. His body is strong, but it's also loose. His stomach has a few extra pounds to hit, but it's not flabby. It's not even a "beer belly." It's more as if his stomach merely swells out slightly. But those are about the only extra pounds on him. He's not hairy either. He does have hair on his chest and legs, but it's more of a light furring of brown wisps that are heavy coat. The only dense hair I see is on his pubes. There he has a thick jungle of long dark tangles. And it's unruly, not neatly trimmed. But he's a man, and few men trim their pubes no matter what girls like to see!

I tell Chris to pick up his pile of clothes. He does. I tell him to take them to Susan and very politely ask her if she'll hold his clothes while he's spanked. Naughty little boys aren't allowed anything while they're spanked, and I am most certainly not hanging onto his things for him.

Chris walks over to Susan with tentative baby steps. Meek steps. As I told him to, he holds the pile of clothes atop his upturned palms. And he holds his hands in front of his small, dark nipples, six inches out from his chest. He stops at the side of their table, facing Susan, a few feet back from her. Then, as instructed, Chris waits quietly for Susan.

Susan finished her bite of salad. Then she looks up at Chris with a faint tinge of a smile on her face. With her seated and him standing, it has his cock at about her eye level. And that ensures Susan doesn't miss the sight of his cock, still standing out and semi-hard. Its tip glistening with a coat of his sticky cum clinging to it.

"Mistress... I've been a naughty little boy..." Chris begins in a hushed, sheepish voice. "I let my little penis make a big mess on their table. Will you please hold my clothes for me while the pretty nurse spanks me for being so naughty?"

"That was very rude of you," Susan tells him. But her voice is normal, not scolding or mocking, or anything else. It's just her regular voice. That tells me she doesn't take her role seriously, that she's just playing a part. But at least she does "scold" him and tell him he was rude.

Susan reaches up and takes the pile of clothes from his hands. She sets them on the table, about where his plate would be if he was going to be eating. "Go get your spanking. And try to behave for the nice nurses." I see a tiny twinkle of amusement in her eyes as if she's recognized that Andrea must have told me about his "thing" for naughty nurses and I dressed up a few friends as nurses for him. It tells me she knows that Chris is going to love being spanked by a nurse.

"Yes, Mistress," Chris says in his sheepish voice. He turns and returns to me.

While he was taking his clothes to Susan, I turned the chair around so its back is flush against the table. I'm standing in front of it when he returns. "slave, hand me a paddle for this naughty little boy," I say sweetly.

"Oh, yes, Mistress!" Sophie, my slave-girl, says rather enthusiastically. She must have guessed and already had the paddle out of the bag she has on the floor beside her. Almost instantly she's putting the handle of it in my hand. I grin.

Chris stares at the paddle, a slightly nervous look on his face. It's not that evil-looking of a paddle. But it does look... strict. It's wooden, about ¾" thick. It's only about 18" long, but it is 4" wide. It has holes drilled in it to cut down on the wind resistance and speed it up, making its strike a little harder.

The look on Chris's face tells me that he was expecting to be spanked with my hand. I do that, but not so often. I have tiny hands, and they're slightly bony. A good spanking hurts my hand almost as much as it hurts the bottom. I prefer paddles. I don't feel a thing with them. But Chris, it appears to me, is a stranger to a paddle. It kind of makes sense to me. Susan is just playing with him. She no real Domme. She wouldn't have invested in real toys for their games.

I reach over and get a good grip on Chris's pubes, letting the long hairs of his bush weave between my fingers. I pull, leading him around to my side and turning him so he's facing my side. "To your knees," I tell him firmly.

I sit down, keeping my grip on his bush. It pulls him downward with me. That's enough of a nudge that Chris drops reluctantly down to his knees. That should be enough to tell him how he's going to be spanked. It's pretty obvious.

I release his hairs and reach up. With his shaven head, I don't have any hair to grab hold of. So I improvise. I pinch his nose hard. I pull his head forward, using his nose as my handle. I bring it down as well, lying Chris over my parted thighs.

Chris comes along, but hesitantly. I put him in my favorite position. That's with his chest lying flat on my lap, my left thigh under his breasts, my right thigh in the bend of his waist. I have his waist fully bent, his thighs hanging straight down to the floor. His knees barely touching the floor. I have his cock trapped, lying between his pubes and my thigh, its head pointing up at his navel. His arms hang over the far side. I'd guess his cock feels about ¾ of the way to steely hardness, and this is as soft as I've seen it so far.

It has Chris's bottom pulled tautly. His cheeks have a slight looseness to them, leaving the tips of them looking a bit flat and less rounded. But his cheeks aren't big, and there's no sign of flab on them. It's just a bit of looseness from age. But under that flesh, I can make out some decently firm muscles.

I lie the wood paddle across his cheeks. I hold it there, and very lightly caress the soft flesh of his bottom with the smooth wood blade. "This is for cumming all over the table and making such a mess. No one gave you permission to ejaculate during your prostate exam. You have to be a big boy and behave for nurses. Cumming all over a nurse is just so immature. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am... I'm sorry for being such a messy little boy, Ma'am."

"Wendy, since you almost got splattered with this little boy's mess, you get to decide how many spankings that was worth. Pick a number..."

While Chris was delivering his clothes I told the girls that this was worth somewhere around three strokes, maybe as many as five, depending on how naughty they considered it. That was meant for Wendy. I just didn't tell her that I was going to ask her to sentence him.

"I think... three." Wendy answers.

"Three strokes it is," I announce. Then I tell Chris that he has to count his strokes, too. I don't know if Susan, or anyone else, has made him do that. I want him to know what I expect him to do.

I lift the paddle, raising it up high. I snap it down, putting about ¾ of my strength into the stroke. If Wendy had picked a higher number, I would have just eased off on the strokes so his bottom would end up just as sore. The paddle comes down fast and hard, landing across both of his cheeks with a loud, splitting crack that rings out through the room. If I didn't have everyone's attention before, that crack gets it.

"UGH!" Chris grunts out hard, his voice already carrying a note of strain to it. He stiffens up over my lap, his muscles tensing hard. Atop my thigh, I feel his cock instantly snap to its fully steely hardness. Whatever bit of softness was in it, is gone now. It feels as if his weight is pressing an iron pipe into the top of my thigh.

"One, Ma'am," Chris counts. It only takes him a second to loosen back and lie fairly still. But his hips do squirm a hair as if trying to squirm some of the sting out of his cheeks. His cheeks are just loose enough for the flesh to jiggle at their tips, but only a hair. He takes a few fast breaths. His hands jump to the legs of my chair, getting a good grip on them.

As I lift the paddle for the next stroke, it reveals the glowing pink strip across his cheeks. That should leave no doubt to anyone that Chris is really being paddled. The toys in my audience wouldn't have doubted it, but they've all been paddled themselves before. Some of the others, like Meredith, this is the first of my shows she's seen.

Chris stares at the floor. It spares him from having to see everyone gawking at him as he submissively lies over my knees and allows himself to be spanked like a bad little boy. By a girl young enough to be his daughter, and as tiny as he is big. I'm sure it's an interesting image.

The looks on faces vary. My toys have looks of pity on their faces, as if they know what a paddling is like and feel sorry for him. Most of the guests have a look of embarrassed amusement on their faces. Susan has a curious look on her face. I saw her flinch hard as the stroke landed on his bottom, but otherwise, she seems more interested.