The evening of the party, she dressed simply, in heels, stockings, garter belt, a thin white cotton sports bra, and a white cotton thong.

Her labial piercings had represented a problem: the party's guidelines were "no nudity", so she had to wear panties, but the piercings looked strange as lumps under the thong (and the leash looked even less attractive). They had patiently determined where each piercing entered her flesh, mapped that to a position on the thong, and had pierced the thong to correspond to her labia. Then the rings (all three of them!) had been removed and reinstalled so that they pierced not only her labia, but the thong as well.

The result was striking. She had two rings near her vagina, one just in front of it, the other just behind it, spaced perhaps 1/2 inch apart. Each ring pierced both lips, closing them, sealing them, ensuring her faithfulness. In the front, the remaining ring pierced both lips, just at the clit; a chain leash hung down from there to slightly above her knees. The weight of the leash was obvious in the slight pleats and folds which it created in the thong. As she looked at herself in the mirror, her tummy did little flip flops: she knew how desirable she was, and it made her dizzy!

Just before they left, she bent over the table, and he gave her three strokes with the cane, very hard. As she put on her coat, she felt a single tear move down her cheek: the strokes had hurt. She was now marked, and ready to be displayed at the party.

The drive was long, and it almost was enough to get them out of the mood. They communed silently, holding hands, not speaking, their thoughts about what was to come.

In the parking lot, she removed her coat, and he fastened a belt around her waist and then fastened her wrists to the back of the belt. A blindfold went over her eyes. A pump gag was wrapped around her face, and tightened behind her head. The pump was actuated, and she felt the bladder expanding inside her mouth. When it was tight enough to fill her mouth completely, so that she could only grunt, she made a slight sound, and he stopped.

She was helped out of the car, wearing only her underwear against the night's chill. A longer chain was clipped to her leash, and she felt a tug against her cunt lips. Obediently, she moved forward, following the leash's directions.

Her impression of the party was only olfactory and auditory. Smoke: there were smokers here; how odd! And a dull murmer of voices too distant to resolve. He paid at the door and then led her to a table; he sat, she stood, nervous, exposed. People soon came up to talk to him; to ogle her; to dream about her; to hope...

He was asked about how they had met; their Internet connection was explained.

Some people were shocked at the fresh cane marks on her ass, thin bruises, thicker on the right, still a bit red, turning to blue, still a bit puffy; he explained that she was marked regularly. She blushed.

He was asked about the piercings. He explained about the two chastity piercings, forcing her to bend over and touch her forehead to her straightened knees, legs slightly parted, so that everyone could inspect her most secret parts. Fingers stroked and prodded and pinched. Rings were tugged. Emboldened at his silence, hands groped her ass, her cunt, her tits, her thighs, her belly. Women touched her, as well as men, the smell of their powder and perfume obvious; she wondered if it was more embarassing to be groped by a woman than a man, but found it difficult to consider. She offered herself in humiliated silence. She wanted more contact and less, all at the same time.

He got up to get a drink, and the tug on her leash bade her to follow him. He led her through the other people with deft tugs on the leash. When they returned, he was asked about her leash training.

He explained that they spent hours each week practicing, first without the blindfold, then with. She now followed the direction of the leash's tug quickly and precisely. When the tension stopped, she stopped in place, instantly. A quick tug down, and she knelt; a tug up, and she stood up. He demonstrated, taking her for a spin around the table, turning her and marching her around. The bystanders watched her stretched cunt lips and churning ass cheeks with intensity.

When he sat down again, he offered the leash to one of the others. He explained that they had to be careful: they could pull on the leash, but not really tug on it; they had to watch her at all times, since it would be easy to fall while blindfolded and in heels, and such a fall would be serious given her bound hands; and they had to be especially careful when they had her kneel and rise, since she was most unstable then. With that brief discussion, she was off around the room, led by a stranger. He was not as precise a leader as her Master, but she followed him as best she could.

When they returned, she was blowing wind a bit out of her nose, sweat starting on her forehead. It was warm in the building, and she had been concentrating pretty hard. He offered the leash to a series of people, telling them to keep her moving quickly; she walked constantly for almost an hour, with very little rest. At the end she stood before them, sweat dripping down her back, chest heaving, head dripping, a spectacle.

He tugged at her leash, and she knelt next to him. He bent down and whispered to her how beautiful she was and how proud he was of her. He kissed her at the nape of her neck, and she felt wonderful.

He stood her up and brought out the cane, explaining to the crowd that it was time that she felt it again. Belly down on the cold wood table, each elbow pinned down by a bystander, her ass was bent for punishment. He stroked her cheeks with his hand and then stood back. He whipped her cheeks with the cane as hard as he could, and she grunted with the force of the blow. A second or two later, her hips were twisting, and she was whining through the gag: it really had hurt! A minute's pause and then another stroke. And then a third. Stood up before the crowd, she was puffing again and sobbing slightly, her weight shifting from one leg to the other. Her ass stung and throbbed. Strange hands explored her newly acquired welts, noting their warmth and plumpness. She twitched and squealed as some enterprising folks pinched the new weals.

Her leash was handed to yet another stranger, and she was marched around the floor again, only this time the rules were different. She was to get a five minute walk and then return so that the person with the leash could give her a stroke of the cane! An hour later, she rose from the table with her eighteenth cane stroke fresh on her backside. She was trembling with exhaustion, with pain, and with sexual tension.

He asked two people to stand next to her and hold her up, by her elbows. He then grabbed the ring to which her leash was attached, and used it to rub her clit. He vibrated the metal roughly, rubbing it over her hooded clit again and again. She was no stranger to this manipulation, and she climaxed quickly, acutely aware of the strangers who watched. She felt her knees buckle as she came, her weight borne by the two strangers who held her. Her Master's finger then insinuated under the panties, behind the ring, inside the lips, pushing back the hood of her clit. He rubbed her directly, slowly, gently, making her come again. And again. And again. Each public climax was humiliating, but the humiliation only excited her for the next one. She wondered if it ever would stop.

Eventually, it did, and she was allowed to kneel, exhausted, dizzy, glowing. He told her, again, how beautiful she was, and gave her a long, slow, wet, sucking, licking kiss on the nape of her neck. She moaned in gratitude.

He asked her if she had to pee, and she nodded yes, blushing, knowing what was next. He led her to the men's room and into a stall. Carefully prying apart the thong fabric and the piercings and the lips, he held everything apart so that she could relieve herself. Her lips were slippery with lubricants, the panty crotch sodden. It was difficult to start to pee, but eventually she did so.

Out of the stall, but still in the mens room, she was ordered to bend over and put her face on the cold rim of the sink. The thong was pulled down until it hung from her labial piercings, and a dab of lubricant was applied to her anus, and then massaged inside. A butt plug was lubricated carefully and then positioned against her anus. She tried to relax the muscles quickly, as she had been trained, but she was nervous. The plug was rammed home in a single slow stroke, but it was more painful than usual, and she squealed.

Back at the table, the hangers on were quick to notice the change, and she found herself bent over and on display yet again, this time with a most embarassing object clearly stuffed in a most humiliating place. The marks of the cane streaked the bulk of her cheeks but left the inside of the cheeks untouched. The horizontal red and blue marks to left and right were in contrast to the white of her ass crack, bisected by the thong cloth which tried pathetically to hide the large butt plug. It was a spectacle.

A woman, a Domme, sat down and had a long conversation with him. She asked him whether there was any chance that she could borrow the sub for an afternoon. The sub's heart began to pound: a secret fear. He explained to the Domme that while he would like to see her bi-trained, this was a limit which could not at present be crossed. She said that she understood. He asked her whether she shaved her pussy, or not; she said no. He said that he had "an idea", and the sub began to tremble: she hated it when he had "an idea"!

A minute later, she found herself kneeling on the floor, her head in between the Domme's spread knees, the Domme's leather skirt hiked up to her waist. A large, hairy bush was only inches from her nose, a fact which became obvious in a few moments. She squealed and tried to move back, but her Master held her fast, paddling her ass quickly and painfully with a leather paddle.

He whispered in her ear. He understood that she was not to be forced to have sex with a woman, and he was not going to force her to do that. He reminded her that she was in public, and that her behavior reflected on him. He instructed her to calm down and behave herself. She tried.

He ordered her to get back in between the Domme's legs and move her head to the right until she felt the Domme's thigh. She did so, reminding herself that it was only a thigh, after all. When her cheek met the thigh, she was instructed to gently rub up against it; she did so. She was ordered to repeat this with the left thigh, and then move forward 1/2 inch and do it again.

She did this, slowly inching forward towards the hot, wet slit. She could feel the heat and humidity on her face, and the odor was distinct and intense. She felt ill, but struggled to obey. She had never been so humiliated in her life.

She moved forward again, and felt something brush against the tip of her nose. A cunt hair: she groaned, and pulled back, but her Master was ready for that, and her ass was paddled again, quickly and harshly. Her Master explained to her that, while she would not have to touch the cunt itself, she would have to touch the cunt hairs. He ordered her to gently touch the outermost cunt hairs with the tip of her nose. She bent forward to obey.

She slowly moved around the hot, wet cunt, gently touching her nose to the outside of the wiry bush. A variety of odors assailed her nostrils, and occasionally, a flash of coolness on her nose told her that some of the woman's dew had been transfered from the tip of a cunt hair to her nose. She struggled on, moving up and down, left and right, obeying. The Domme moaned with pleasure as her most private parts were gently tickled.

She wondered if someone would give her a push and she would wind up with her face buried in the steaming twat which was only inches from her nose. She became obsessed with the thought, at first considering it to be a fear, but eventually realizing that it was also a desire. It was a limit, but the mere fact of that meant that it was a supremely humiliating act. And that humiliation excited her. She began to realize that she was not clear at all about what she wanted. Confused, she continued her task, sniffing the stranger's cunt.

After about ten minutes of that, her Master told her that she could relax. She sat back on her heels, turning her head from side to side, trying to stretch her neck and shoulder muscles. She arched her back, trying to stretch her back muscles, but that only made the butt plug enter her deeper. Another female voice inquired as to whether she might also give it a try, and one minute later, the sub found herself sniffing yet another stranger's cunt. After she had experienced the scents of four different women, her Master decided that she had had enough.

She was placed on top of the cold table again, this time on her back, her wrists uncomfortable under her body, back arched, tits out. Hands grabbed her ankles and drew her legs apart roughly and completely, pinning them in place. Her hips writhed slowly on the table: she was very aroused. Her Master picked up her leash again, and this time began flicking it up and down, left and right, harshly, and from a distance. The chain flipped and flopped this way and that. The pain of her pulled and rapidly moving cunt lips, combined with the indirect stimulation of her clit, brought her to an orgasm quickly. The spectacle of the helpless, spread and bound girl, her cunt lips flapping wildly, her thong crotch glistening with her wetness, the butt plug protruding evily from between her offered undercheeks, all of this was clear to her, and aroused her even more. A second squealing orgasm brought the show to a close.