Supper with Mistress

Susan's hips try to slam back even further against Dawn's face. There's no room left for them to move. Her stomping foot throws her hips up a bit. Dawn's head moves with it.

"UGH!" Susan cries out quickly. She falls silent, now just panting hard, fast breaths. She falls limp and spent against the table. It's a good thing I have her leaning over the table. It's supporting her weight. All of her weight. Her legs aren't doing a thing. Her knees aren't even locked. Her legs more hang limply. She just lies like that, her body shivering, but the shivers slowly ebbing.

I tell Dawn to get up. She does, letting everyone see the glistening coat of Susan's honey clinging to her face from the nose down. A coat of honey that's especially heavy around Dawn's lips.

Dawn opens her mouth, showing me the honey that's clinging to her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She says nothing. She doesn't need to. Susan came hard. Susan wept a lot of honey.

I glance down and see that the fur on Susan's lips is sopping wet now. I don't have to look to know her pussy is sloppy wet now. I send Dawn back to her seat. She gets a short round of applause, mostly from the men in the crowd, as she goes. I guess they liked seeing a pretty girl eat pussy.

I stand there, giving Susan a moment to pull herself back together. Mostly giving Dawn a moment to get back to her seat behind Susan before Susan sees who just ate her pussy. I have no doubt she'll get it out of Chris later. But that's later. After the show is over.

"Oh, slut..." I coo teasingly sweetly, almost so sweetly that it's mocking. I still haven't addressed Susan by name. Eventually, she'll realize that, and wonder if I even know her name. Just maybe, Andrea never told me. Andrea could have just described them to me. Andrea never told them my name. "Stand up, now."

Susan almost struggles to rise to her feet. It's as if her body is just too heavy, and her muscle too weak, to lift herself up. She moves slowly, almost as if in a fog. She takes a few seconds to stiffen up her legs first. Then she lifts her shoulders. They rise even more slowly. She keeps her hands on the table, using them to brace herself. As she rises, her hands slide along the table. She finally stands on wobbly legs, looking at me with glassy eyes.

"By your shamelessly slutty display, I gather your skanky pussy liked being eaten?"

"Yes, Mistress..." Susan answers. Now her voice is dull and breathy. But also rather polite.

I know nothing about Susan, other than she is enjoying watching Chris's session and that she obviously enjoys having her pussy eaten. That's nothing. What woman wouldn't like having her pussy eaten skillfully? But I also know, at least when aroused and needy, Susan will submit, when offered the chance to. She just did.

Now it's time to see how Susan responds to humiliation. "Give me your skirt," I tell her firmly. As Susan rose to her feet, the full-length skirt obviously fell back down, covering her body to her ankles.

"Yes, Mistress," Susan answers in her same dull breathy voice, but now with a touch of reluctant acceptance in it. As if she doesn't want to give up her clothes, any of them, but accepts that she must.

Susan reaches for her waistband. Her hands fumble, not nervously, but more wobbly as if they're as unsteady as the rest of her. She manages to reach behind her to the zipper and undo her skirt. She takes her hands away and it falls to her ankles. It shows everyone that Susan's panties are still around her ankles. It also shows off the full dense bush of long black hairs on her pubes. But it is well trimmed into a neat triangle, just not trimmed short as well.

Susan moves very slowly and unsteadily as she steps her feet out of her skirt. She squats down just as unsteadily and picks it up. She must have been paying attention when I had Chris undress. She folds her skirt, but it's not a very neat folding. Her hands are too fumbly and lost for that. She holds it out to me. I tell her to set it on her table for now.

"Give me your panties, too, slut," I tell her in the same firm voice.

"Yes, Mistress," Susan answers in the same voice, a bit more reluctance in it. She moves slowly but doesn't hesitate to slip her panties down to her ankles and step out of them. She hands them over, and they join her skirt on the table.

"Pick someone, slut, anyone except that naughty little boy, and ask him or her to hold your clothes for you. Hurry up, I'm not known for my patience."

Susan picks up the pile of clothes, her skirt, and panties. It leaves her wearing only her low-heeled shoes and blouse. And the blouse comes down only to her waistline. It leaves her pubes, and her bottom, fully exposed to everyone without so much as a single stitch covering it.

Susan glances around the room. Her eyes dart over the audience, checking out the diners, wondering which of them she might ask. And definitely wondering which of them just ate her pussy. Unfortunately for her, Dawn has wiped the honey from her face, so there's no way for her to tell. Her eyes scan over the diners several times, but it's no help. Everyone is staring at her. Then again, after the show she just put on, she figures the world is staring at her. Who wouldn't be?

I haven't told the audience anything. I didn't expect Susan to be joining in the show or I would have. I haven't told them to accept, or to refuse, Susan. My toys in the audience will accept. I told Susan to ask someone, and in their world, that means I expect that someone to accept. But the others won't know that. Well, Izzy and Ellie do, but they also know I wouldn't care if they refused, and Izzy is impish enough to refuse just to embarrass Susan. There's no predicting what Izzy will do. The same with some of the others. I barely know a couple of them. I just met Ellie's date a half hour before the show started.

Susan picks Cassandra, one of the vanilla girls I don't know well. She's in my English class at USA. She's been after me to invite her to one of my shows, a fairly uncommon event, but also an invitation that's sought-after on campus. It comes with some bragging right to get invited. Cassandra is a nice girl, but she's also decently heavy, so she doesn't get hit on nearly as much as she'd like. I'm sure she'll gossip about the show, but she'll respect the rules and not identify the toys. I figured it might help her social standing a little. And she offered a variety to the audience. She's the heaviest girl in it. I'd guess she's around 5'4" and 200 pounds.

I think Susan picked her simply because she's the one seated the closest to Susan's spot. Thus her clothes will be as close as possible to her. Susan takes the two steps over to the thick, blond woman. "Miss... will you please hold my clothes for me?" Susan asks. It's less than humbly polite, but I don't say anything. I'm sure neither of these two toys has had any real training.

"Uh... I guess..." Cassandra says reluctantly. I don't really blame her for not wanting to hold another woman's panties, especially when they're fresh off her bottom and still slightly damp. She takes the clothes from Susan and quickly drops them atop the huge purse beside her feet.

"Thank you very much, Miss," Susan politely says. Then Susan comes back to me.

I tell Susan to take her seat. She's to sit there and finish her meal. She's also to keep her hands above the table at all times. Pam's chairs are wooden, with wicker seats to them. It's going to leave Susan's bare bottom, and the mound of her pussy, on that wicker. And she's going to feel that. It won't be unpleasant, but it will constantly remind her that every bit of her body from her waistline down to her ankles is now naked and visible to anyone who cares to look. There are no table cloths to hide behind, either.

Susan takes her seat. I return to my table. The waitresses being bringing the soup. Counting the soup, only six more courses to go!

Chapter 04: Penile Apology

Elisha brings Susan her soup. The look on Susan's face is something like "you seriously expect me to eat while I'm sitting here with my butt naked and everyone is staring at me?" She looks extremely uncomfortable as she realizes that's exactly what she's expected to do and slowly reaches for the spoon.

It gives me the time to turn my attention back to Chris. I cross the few steps over to where he's still kneeling beside my table. I immediately order Chris to rise up to his feet. As soon as he's on his feet, and just before he still from moving, I reach out to his cock and grab hold of it around the shaft. I wrap my hand around it just beneath the spongy head of it. I have tiny hands, but I'm 5' 1.75" and 90 pounds. I'm just tiny. Even so, my hand is almost against his pubes, leaving very little of his shaft exposed. Mostly it's just the purple head of it sticking out from my hand.

I squeeze. Hard. Squishing his cock in my grip. I watch Chris's face as I tighten my grip around his cock. His face scrunches up hard. He winces. His eyes squish shut as if he's about to cry. I even let the tips of fingernails start to dig into the side of his cock. I feel the stiffness of his shaft. It's as hard as steel when I start.

"You naughty little boy!" I scold him sternly as I hold my tight grip on his shaft. "Who gave you permission to let that tiny penis get so hard?"

"No one, Ma'am," Chris answers. His voice is strained, showing the discomfort of my tight grip.

"You know little boys have to behave, especially in public, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And I'm sure you've been told that good little boys don't walk around with erections while people are trying to eat, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Chris answers. Despite the pain in his voice, he sounds almost apologetic now. As if he knows he's misbehaving.

"Then get that tiny penis under control, little boy." I squish it just a hair harder.

"UM!" Chris grunts out, flinching hard. "I'll try, Ma'am," He sounds like he doesn't believe himself.

I give him a little time, about fifteen seconds. His cock is still rock hard in my grip. So I tighten my grip a tiny bit more. Chris grunts hard again. I don't, but I'd like to. Now the muscles in my hand are feeling the strain of squeezing so tightly. I give him a few more seconds. I don't feel his cock softening, not even a bit.

"OW!" Chris blurts out as I tighten my grip a little more. "Please, Ma'am, it hurts!"

"Then be a good little boy and it won't hurt anymore," I tell him firmly. I tighten my grip up again, the firmer squeeze his punishment for whining. Chris blurts out another "OW!" and shudders from it. He stands there, cringing hard, but suffering the hard squeeze on his shaft.

I give him a few more seconds. I still feel the ungiving hardness of his steely cock. I squish even tighter, making sure my nails are digging into the hard side of his cock. He screeches, his voice taking on a slightly girly tone. And I see another tear roll down his cheek.

Finally, I start to feel his cock softening up. It doesn't really have much of a choice. I'm squeezing it too hard. I hold the tightness of my grip until his cock has softened to about half-stiffness. It doesn't seem to shrink that much as it softens, but how much more could it? I slowly release my grip on his cock. As my fingers open, I can see the red marks my fingernails left in its sides.

I grab a clean plate. It's white. It's just a typical restaurant plate. I put it under Chris's cock, leaving his half-soft cock lying atop the plate, stretched straight. As if it's what's being served. I have the plate's edge snug against Chris's pubes. It has his balls dangling down under the plate. I tell Chris to put his hands to the edges of the plate at the sides. It keeps his hands away from his cock.

"There, now we can all see when you misbehave again," I tell Chris with the faintest hint of a giggle in my voice.

"Now you're going to be polite little boy," I firmly tell Chris. "You will go to everyone in this restaurant and apologize for interrupting their supper by being a bad little boy. You will behave while you apologize. That tiny baby penis of yours is to stay soft. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Chris accepts in his sheepish voice. He sounds just like a toddler after a harsh scolding.

"Good, now start with Miss Nurse here. You owe her a very nice apology for almost getting your sticky, messy cum on her!" I point to Wendy.

Chris doesn't have to move. He's already close enough to her. He just has to turn to face Wendy. He stands there, his cock displayed on the shiny white plate, and apologizes to her very politely. Then to Annie. Then to Mindy. He addresses all of them as "Miss Nurse." But I never told him their names. The only name we've even used is Wendy's, and I don't know if he caught that or not. I have Chris apologize to Sophie too, telling him that Sophie is "Miss Slave."

Now I send him off to start the rounds of the eight occupied tables. I don't give him any names for anyone. I act as if I don't even know them. As if they're just diners here who have gotten to see the show. And apparently don't mind free entertainment with their supper.

He picks Cassandra and Meredith's table first. It's only a few steps away, and if he makes a circle to his left, it could be a good starting point. Although I suspect that Meredith is the reason he picked that table. If he went the other way, it would be the table Natalie is sharing with her daughter Shawna. And Shawna looks very young.

Meredith, however, looks like a college sorority girl. She's decently tall and thin. She has long black hair. She's also fairly slutty and it shows. Like in the half-top and mini skirt she's wearing tonight. She's pretty, in that cheerleader sort of way, too. She has a tattoo on her shoulder that's fully visible with that top. It gives her a party girl look. I'm not sure if she's the prettiest girl in the audience, but if college girls are his turn-on, then she's definitely in the top three. And she's definitely the only one that looks slutty, as if she might be up for some fun.

"Excuse me, Miss..." Chris begins. "I'm sorry for being such a naughty little boy and interrupting your dinner by making the nice nurses spank me for letting my tiny penis get too eager."

Meredith laughs. "That's a dick?"

Chris blushes a deep red. "Yes, Miss, it's all the penis this little boy has, Miss..."

Cassandra quickly takes out her phone. "I have got to get a pic of this! No one will believe that dicks come so little!" Cassandra holds her phone up, getting a picture that mostly shows Chris's cock on the plate, as well as his pubes. I told her my rules before Chris and Susan arrived. I don't mind pictures, as long as they show only toys, and don't show any faces or identifying things. I doubt anyone could identify Chris by his cock. And I know Cassandra is going to be showing the cock on a plate picture to everyone.

"No way would any guy with a dick that little ever touch me!" Meredith remarks to Cassandra. Both of them are rather gossipy. "I would so kick him out of bed!"

Cassandra laughs hard.

"I mean, seriously? Why bother? It's not like that little thing is going to do anything for me! I wouldn't even feel it!" Meredith adds. She must have decided that making fun of Chris's cock is the sport of the night. Or maybe just that I shouldn't have all the fun insulting his manhood.

I jump up from my seat. Not because of Meredith's cock-mocking. I couldn't care less about that. I jump up because I see Chris's cock starting to get stiff again. Right there on the plate. It quickly, and steadily, stiffens back up. I grab my crop as I rise up to my feet. In about two seconds I've crossed the few steps to where Chris is standing.

"Bad little boy! Have you no shame?" I scold him in my strict librarian voice. With plenty of disapproval in it. "You're supposed to be apologizing! Can't you even look at a pretty girl without that baby penis misbehaving?"

I lie the tip of my crop very softly on the spongy head of his cock. Chris flinches even though it barely touches him. I tell him that he's to hold still, and if he drops the plate, he's going to be "one sorry little boy!"

I lift the tip of my crop up about a foot above the head of his cock. I turn to Meredith. "Don't worry, I'll teach him to have some decency." I just flick my wrist, snapping the crop down. The leather tip of it lands squarely atop the spongy soft bulbous head of his cock.

"OW!" Chris screeches out, his voice girly-high, and loud. Rather whiny, too. He sniffles a couple of sobs.

"Behave!" I scold him firmly. "Five... four... three... two... one..." I count backward. His cock is as stiff as ever. Without a word of warning, I flick my wrist again. Another swat of the crop snaps down on the very sensitive cock head. Chris screeches, and now he cries hard.

I start counting again.

"PLEASE, MA'AM!" Chris cries out, pleading. "PLEASE DON'T SPANK MY PENIS AGAIN, MA'AM, IT HURTS TOO MUCH!"

I swat the head of his cock with my crop. "I didn't say you could beg. I said to behave." I start counting.

Off to the side, and not far away, Susan is wincing along with Chris at each stroke of the crop on his most sensitive place. She looks shocked. It must be the girly, infantile way Chris is screeching and crying from it. As if it really hurts. It does. I can already see the head of his cock turning a bright red from the swats.

I reach zero again, and Chris squeals loudly as another swat rains down on his cock head. I start counting backward.

"I'll be a good little boy!" Chris mumbles under his breath, mostly talking to himself. He repeats it over and over for the few seconds he has.

The swats do what I wanted them to. They get his cock to start softening back up. It goes about half-soft, which is as soft as it's ever gone tonight.

I have him turn to Cassandra and apologize for interrupting her meal. He does. Then I tell him to move along. It puts him at Ellie's table. He apologizes to Ellie, who mostly ignores him. She doesn't pay much attention to his cock. "Whatever, weirdo," Ellie says, dismissing Chris.

I have Chris turn to Derek, Ellie's date. I don't let him shy away from Derek just because he's male, which Chris seems very eager to do. I make him stand just as close, his cock displayed just as fully to the young man. And I make him apologize just as politely.

"Roll on, dude," Derek says to Chris, "no one wants to see a dick that small."

Ellie bursts out laughing. Ellie is pretty much a hippie, and I'm confident she's seen her share of cocks. I'm sure she has plenty to compare his to. I'm sure she's seen smaller, too. But it has an effect on Chris. It earns him another swat on his cock for starting to stiffen up.

He goes to Izzy's table. Izzy leans way down and peeks under the plate. She quickly rises back up, giggling. "I just wanted to make sure there wasn't a pussy down there. That could just be, like, something swollen up, and not a dick! I had to be sure this is a boy!"

"Ain't no man," Craig, Izzy's boyfriend, and date adds.

It goes about the same until we get to the last table. The one with Natalie and her almost 19-year-old daughter Shawna. But Shawna looks young. She's also rather plain. Not ugly, but she's never going to be the prettiest woman in a room, either.

Chris apologizes to Shawna last.

Shawna has been my toy for a while now. I gave her some instructions before Chris arrived. She reaches her hand out to the plate. She takes his cock in her hand, holding it gently. She gives it a light stroke, her hand gliding along its flaccid length very tenderly. "Mom, are all men this small?" Shawna asks Natalie.

"No, honey," Natalie answers with a bit of a smirk on her face, "I doubt you'll ever see one this small."

"Whew!" Shawna blurts out. She drops his cock back onto the plate, letting it land with a slight plop. It starts stiffening back up.