When I arrived there in the early evening I came to understand that the first night would be one of preparation, mentally and emotionally. Although others of the household were present to some degree his dominance over me started at the door. I had already received a list of things to bring and wear, and thus was dressed in regular traveling clothing but rather with a mindset of subservience. As I stepped through the door I was met by Master Dylan who was dressed in singular blackness. His dark leather jacket was flanked by tight jeans and black leather chaps. From his heavy boots to his leather bandanna with beads strung onto the edges, his whole being suggested power. His honey blonde hair was a little windblown, and sunglasses hid much of his expression. He gestured me in, and suggested I shower and change immediately into more appropriate clothing which I had undoubtedly brought with me.

I did so and returned in an A line dress, stockings, a garter belt and tan suede Gilles. From the first moment he made me know that I was there to serve him and him only that evening. He agreed to be subtle in his commands so that the rhythm of the house would not be disturbed whether we were in the house or out anywhere else that he wanted to show me in town. Throughout the evening I served him in a general way, making and cleaning up dinner, massaging his back and feet, and fetching drinks. I was not to speak unless spoken to and I was to obey all orders without hesitation. Whenever we were alone he might slide a hand up my dress to tease me or whisper in my ear what he intended to do with me that weekend.

Bedtime approached and the rest of the house was asleep. He came to my bedside and told me that he wanted a bedtime kiss. As he kissed me deeply, his hands wandered about my silk sleep shirt. He told me to keep still and not move. So I kept still and bit my tongue as his rough hands wandered increasingly more intimately over and under my nightclothes. As I began to moan and wriggle a little, he pulled my hands under his so that I couldn’t move and brought me nearer and nearer to orgasm watching me intently for that moment to approach. I came closer and closer when he withdrew suddenly, covering me quickly with a cover and smiling as I recovered myself. Minutes later, he returned to his own bed with an admonition not to touch myself in any way until he ordered it.

The next day was full of the usual tourist stuff with the slight variation that I was still at his command through the day, to fetch, to carry and so on. It was not until evening about eight o’clock that we found ourselves alone in the house as his roommate[s] had gone away for the night. Master Dylan ordered me to change into my silk nightshirt with heels and nothing else, and offered me wine. Some sexual paraphernalia such as a paddle was evident around the shadowed room. I have always been interested in being spanked but I would want it to be in a form of slowly increased intensity as I’m not sure how I would react. What little I’ve experienced was interspersed with touching and brought me over the edge faster than could possibly be practical. In fact, I’ve been accused of getting into it Too Fast by lovers who like to linger– not one of my strong points. But one which I presume could be improved by a smart lover. It is true that I really enjoy giving a man pleasure [whatever way] when it is in a ‘forced’ setting– and I love the scent and taste of a freshly showered body!

A while later Master Dylan approached me a half gallon of fresh spring water and a small cup. Ordering me to drink it all and fast, I began on the water with a curious and painful look to my eyes. When I’d finished, he led me to yet another set of straps but this one part of a contraption located in a large curved doorway. He tied my hands securely apart to movable wooden bars by a the sides of the door and, placing my legs wide apart tied them to waiting holds. He leaned back on a nearby easy chair and waited me. I could feel drips of urine curling about the edges of my pubic hair, and felt the pain of humiliation tearing at my eyelids. I begged the Master Dylan to be allowed to release myself but he just laughed and manipulate my clitoris again, teasing the opening to my bladder with no mercy.

Master Dylan reached below the chair to flick a switch and to my amazement my hands and arms were pulled forward so that I was bent over from the waist but still supported by the wooden bar. He grinned at me and circled as a vulture might, dipping into fondle and grasp my pink skin as might an eagle amusing himself with a fluttering wren. Once behind me he slowly inserted a large dark textured dildo while watching my expression closely in the nearby mirror. I too witnessed the humiliation in the mirror and blushed furiously from my cheeks to my belly. Swinging around to my gaping mouth he jammed his growing member in, simultaneously starting a methodical slap on my bent rear end. “This is your punishment for not following orders you little slut, suck now and show me how sorry you are. When I come hard in your begging mouth you’ll swallow every bit and beg for more. When you piss down your own leg, you’ll know what humiliation is.” He continued spanking my ass, first with his hand, then a paddle, then the end of the belt. He made me count each one and ask for another, as he increased the pressure. “Does it hurt your cute little ass? Does your ass beg for my hand to spank you again and again? Promise me now that you will never again touch your private parts alone!” By the time he came hard in my mouth, tears streaked down my lashes. My pussy ached with the effort of not peeing, and I moaned to him hoping he’d understand my acceptance.

“Now a break for me, and some work for you” his voice crackling with amusement. Pulling unceremoniously out of my mouth, he left the room and me to rustle about to regain my blood supply to my bruised lips and tired arms. The dildo began a slow movement out as I held my breath trying to keep my ass still . As an hour passed and I worried about his absence I felt the pressure of my bladder harder and harder. It grew to control all of my thoughts as I strove to keep the dildo in and my legs together as much as possible. An hour later I was still there worrying about his absence and finally cried out to him beseechingly, as my pee beginning the trickle down my leg.

Just as my bladder was about to let loose full force a remote control clicked into action and the restraints opened up for my aching limbs to stretch themselves. I jogged down the hall to the bathroom before rejoining Master Dylan who was reclining by the TV. I lay by his feet to await his next command– a short wait. “Is the dildo still in?” he demanded angrily, pushing me over to view my behind and finding it not– grabbed my hair and informing me of their next destination. “We’re going to eat little one, and you will perform as I say. One misstep and you won’t be able to beg enough to get away from my punishing hand.”

Handing me two small nipple clips, he watched me dress in the white dress, complete with stockings and bra, all the while commenting on my voluptuous curves. “Spread those cheeks a little wider for me little one. I want to feel the tight pucker of your asshole. Now, pinch your nipples for me before you put on the clips. Do they hurt? They should, they’re to remind you that your sole purpose at dinner is to excite me and humiliate you.”

Master Dylan pulled me outside to the Harley and, throwing me over the back roared off into the evening. Arriving at the quiet bayside restaurant, he chose a corner booth so that much of me was evident to passersby. The small nipple clips were straining against my bodice and he smiled, knowing that all who noticed would know I was his. They sat down and an older waiter came by, staring consciously at my breasts which spilled out of the sweetheart neckline of the dress. They ordered quickly and Master Dylan began the tortuous road of my public humiliation. “Spread your legs little girl, I want to sample your juices for an appetizer”. I turned, shocked with my hand instantly sliding down to cover myself. But he inexorably pulled my hands behind me, whispering into my ear how this place would be my ultimate experience, here was where I would be the most pleasured yet the most humiliated. His spare hand wandered toward my panties, betraying me already with the stain of wetness. His fingers grazed the shiny fabric of my stockings and he spoke up loud enough to be heard nearby “take your stockings off!”. I resisted, but feeling him twist my arm cruelly behind my back I began to slowly squirm out of the sheer fabric, trying not to attract attention. My efforts failed in that respect as several nearby diners were gazing interestedly toward their table.

Finally the hose were off but Master Dylan thwarted my efforts to place them out of sight by landing them blatantly by the shrimp cocktail. I blushed, mortified that all about would know my position. Again ordering me to spread my legs, Master Dylan leaned over and began to fondle my most sensitive hairs. “Like this little one? You wanted pleasure, now you’re going to get it. Lean back on the seat, and lift your ass closer to my fingers.” I complied, though it was easier knowing it would be a few minutes until the meal was served. To my consternation, the waiter returned just them, leaning over just so slightly as to view what he could of my lifted skirt and blushing cheeks. Slowing himself to a crawl, the waiter removed the plates and glasses all the while rearranging himself to get a better view as Master Dylan kept his hand in place and ever so gently continued to manipulate my tiny button. Finally the waiter left, and I moaned, temporarily forgetting the presence of other guest and letting out a short cry. Master Dylan immediately slapped my face, criticizing me for making a spectacle of herself and immediately removing his questing fingers leaving me just short of my first orgasm. My heart thumped as I”d been just so close to the ultimate pleasure, and his knowledge and refusal to fulfill my intimate needs sent tremors of frustration through me.

The waiter finally brought our dinners, and we set to. Dessert came, and he announced that my time had come. First he forced me to remove my bra so that my breasts dangled loose, the nipple clips now jutting through the soft white fabric, the pink sore buds begging for release. Taking my silky black panties, he stuffed them into my mouth so my noises were severely limited, and began anew his assault on my senses. Unclipping the nipple clips he watched my expression twist as the sudden pain of release surged though my body. He slid his fingers down my belly and slammed them into my crotch, finger fucking me forcefully. I cried out through the panties, and began to jam my hips up into his hand, my creams dripping down his fingers into his palm. He paused, allowing me one last minute of frustration and returned in earnest to his impatient teasing. His finger would first graze my mound, then away to my legs and then back almost in counts of ten seconds, forcing my thrusts to a high pitch. Finally in my tension, the panties slipped out of my mouth and I moaned out loud– Master Dylan watching closely and with delight as patrons nearby turned in their direction abruptly. Obviously to all but fulfillment, I continued to moan, occasionally crying out his name. When the moment came he held me down and spoke closely into my ear of my final and ultimate dependence on him. The climax rushed through my veins and I arched with pleasure and humiliation.

Collapsing against the cushion, I opened my eyes to find the stares of many an interested gentleman, and not a few ladies. Hurriedly, blushing furiously I pulled on my coat and followed Master Dylan out of the restaurant .

As we returned home, Master Dylan complimented me on my fine behavior at the restaurant. I was still blushing, and couldn’t even speak as the events of the last hour rushed through my head. The thought that I’d come in front of all those people, panting and breathing like some kind of animal made me feel like crawling under a rock. But since Master Dylan was pleased, I kept my silence. I slept deeply, satisfied at last.