Instigator – Part II

I met Mr. D and the rest of the group back in the living room. I was horny for him yet mollified that he wouldn’t fuck me right then. I felt hot and flushed. I felt teased and tormented. I’m pretty sure I was right where he wanted me to be. We sat in the living room as a group around the table where Mr. D had dropped all of our play toys the night before. His flogger was there. The slapper he made was also there and the little silicon whip. He also placed the plug that he uses to gag me with on the table. It is a butt plug that has attachments that vibrate and also blow it up to anchor it. I love it and hate it. It received many cringed exclamations from the ladies the night before. Clearly, Mr. D meant to raise the level of interest of everyone by leaving everything out on the table. He thrives on being an instigator. He has played with some of this group before and their level of play had gone down quite a bit since he moved away. He was excited to be the motivating force again. 
While we were eating breakfast that morning, I had pointed out a small round end table in the room. It seemed the perfect size to use as a spanking bench. It received many spicy comments during the day. So, it felt natural when Mr. D set the table in the middle of the room. He took his implements and set them nearby on the kitchen table. The room had gotten much quieter by then. Each person’s eyes were on him and their thoughts were their own. Mine were rising in the level of excitement I was feeling. I knew he would be using me to perform for them. I felt a deep buzzing in my belly. Not nervousness exactly just the anticipation of what was to come.
He approached me and took my hand. I held his as he pulled me up from the couch. He faced me and asked, “Are you okay with this?” his lips kissing me and then waiting for my nod. I wanted this very much. He pushed my dress down my body until I stood naked before him. He led me to the table where I bent over and put my elbows on the surface to brace myself. My head fell forward and my hair fell around my face. It was a meager protection from the realization that my body was exposed to all in the room. Mr. D’s hand trailed across my back and pushed the rest of my hair out of his way. His strong hands caressed my back and my buttocks. I felt his touch over every inch of my exposed skin. His ministrations were meant to calm me but also to awaken the blood flow.
I heard him lift the flogger and knew what was coming. He trailed the falls across my back. I sighed because I love this very much and couldn’t wait for him to begin. The first thud felt amazing. He layered the hits across my back and my butt and my thighs. His free hand would touch and sooth and cover my neck for protection all while he continued to flog me. I heard only silence in the room. Nothing but the sounds of the flogger hitting my body and the occasional release of my breath filled the space. I was sure the others were intent on watching us even though I couldn’t see them. My mind would wander from the flogging to Daddy back to the room full of friends. I wondered what Coupe thought of all this? He was the only one who had never seen a flogging before. I wondered how they were looking at my body. I knew all three girls had experienced flogging before and El Jefe was experienced in wielding a flogger himself.
Then Mr. D switched to using the little whip. It is really stingy and it made me jump under his strikes. I moaned and exhaled my exclamations at the stinging hits. I couldn’t resist moving. I arched my back and rose up on my toes at different times. I didn’t want to distract him and tried not to move too much but something about being his victim this way made me want to writhe for him. I couldn’t help it. Following the whip, he used his hand. I love the feel of his hand on me. When he spanks with his hand it is warm and the connection is so intense. I love that we both feel it and that there’s give to the impact. Also, there’s a harder impact from his hand. The full weight of his swing thuds into my body and there is a visceral connection to him in that. It’s the epitome of being manhandled. 
During this exhibition, I know he was talking to the room. He was telling them about each implement. He was describing the different sensations. I remember hearing him say that spanking with your hand is always a good choice and builds the connection. I was mainly focused on the sensations though and after a while his voice only registered to me if he was talking directly to me. During the pain, my mind tends to become very narrow in its focus, like I’m in a tunnel and can only see the light at the end.
Finally, Mr. D used the spanker that he made. It is a long piece of buffalo leather folded in two and sewn together with an added handle. The strikes from the spanker are stingy over a larger surface so it delivers quite a punch. He laid the full length of the flogger on my back while he used the spanker. The heaviness of the flogger on me was an implied anchor. It fixed me in place and kept me immobile. As he spanked me with his new toy, I let my voice have freedom. I had no choice. I needed to moan and cry out. I felt myself slipping into sub space and I felt my body begin to want the pain, to crave the next strike instead of flinch from it. I pushed out my ass towards him and took all that he gave me. Too soon, it was over and his hand was caressing my hot, welted skin and removing the flogger from my back.
“Take your time and when you’re ready, you can rise from the table.” He was right there beside me as I rose. His arm steadied me as he led me back to the couch. I was smiling and sated. My body was hot and my mind drifted. He sat with me on the couch so I could cleave to him and come back down. I only wanted to hold him and close my eyes but I was curious about the others and so I looked around.
Painted Lady said, “That was amazing, thank you Mr. D.” There were many nods and sounds of approval from the room. “You are really much more of a pain slut than I’ve ever been.” She said. The others also said very nice things and thanked Mr. D for giving them a show and teaching them about his technique. I felt so happy that I had pleased him and given everyone something to enjoy. I loved being publicly nude for him. I felt amazing serving as his baby girl in this way. It was a new level of service and I felt so proud of myself for how I did. The more he asks me to serve in different ways the more I want to do that for him.

Exhibitionism – He Missed Me

I was gone on vacation for a week. I didn’t get to see or talk to Mr. D during that time because I was out at sea. We emailed but that was it. He felt distant from me. I spent a great deal of the time I was gone sleeping. I’m sure I needed the downtime after all the hospital time and funeral planning, etc.

I knew I’d be able to see Mr. D on Friday night once I got back. I dropped my luggage at home and got on the road to him. I didn’t shave, I didn’t dress from him. I didn’t want to take any time away from seeing him. I was too eager to be with him to wait any longer.

Mr. D’s home has a front yard that is surrounded by walls. You walk in a bamboo swing gate next to the garage. Each side of the courtyard is walled. The house is in the back and the garage in the front. The sides are five foot tall brick walls. On one side is another home and the other has a walkway that leads to a park. The gate has no latch and is private enough until you’re in the driveway then you can see right through the bamboo. Mr. D mentioned that we’d have the house to ourselves as his roommates would be gone. As I pushed through the gate, Mr. D was sitting in the courtyard smoking a cigar. He smiled as I stepped close and leaned down to kiss him in greeting. Aromatic smoke wafted from his cigar and the flavor of tobacco was on his lips. I love a man who smells of masculine things. As I pulled away from our kiss, he put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down close so that his lips grazed my ear. “Go freshen up, put on a skirt with no panties and return to me.”

I felt my legs weaken as I said, “Yes Daddy” and took myself into the house. Quickly, I did as I was told. I knew then that he had plans and it made me weak to think about what they were. I put on a tight stretchy pink skirt with no panties and went back out to stand before him. He smoked his cigar in a leisurely fashion and nodded. “Nice choice.” He reached his hand down to a duffel bag on the ground next to his chair. Oh, I was in for it. He had it filled with many unknown things. He pulled out a leather blindfold and handed it to me. The order was implicit. I put on the blindfold and made sure I couldn’t see. I was relieved for it actually. He loves sex in public and it makes me incredibly nervous. We were fairly protected in his courtyard but anyone could walk down the pathway and look over the wall or come in the gate at any time. It brought butterflies alive in my belly. But I’m a good girl and I agreed to the terms of being his submissive so here I was, blindfolded in the front yard.

Next I felt something encircle my neck. Wait a minute, what is this? A collar? He has never put one on me before. He loves to torment the fiercely vulnerable areas on my neck and has said he may never put a collar on me because it would interfere. I felt the leather on my neck and I slipped deeply into a submissive state. I’ve only had a collar put on me one other time. A Dom friend was showing me a posture collar he bought for his wife. When he buckled it on my neck, the same thing happened. I was putty. It’s the strangest reaction. I don’t know if it’s the vulnerability of my neck, all the inherent meanings of a collar or a combination of the two but it drops me into another place. It’s powerful to me and elicits a powerful reaction. He tugged on the back of the collar after it was buckled. “Mmm, I like that. Do you?” Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. Yes, liked it very much.

“Pull up your skirt, turn around and sit down.” I felt behind me and there was a chair for me. I pulled my skirt up until he could see my sex and sat down on the edge of the chair. “Spread your legs and lean back.” I did as told all the while thinking about that fact that it was broad daylight and anyone could see me if they looked over the wall. I heard him rummage in his bag and felt him lay something across my thighs. He pulled up my blouse and saw that I was wearing a basic, latch in the front bra. “Nice choice.” He said as he unhooked my bra and pushed it back on each side to expose my breasts. I reclined before him, blindfolded, collared and exposed. My sex, my thighs and my breasts were presented to him. I heard him take another drag on his cigar and smelled the smoke waft over me as he took in the sight of his handy work.

“My slut finally came home to Daddy. I missed you lady. There was something about you being gone where I couldn’t get at you at all.” His fingers tweaked my nipples and made them hard. He caressed them and teased them while his voice filled my mind. Then his hands were on my thighs bringing my nerve endings alive. His hands caressed up from my knees all the way to my exposed sex. His fingers pushed into me, dry and harsh. It made me moan and roll my hips so that he had a smoother pathway inside me. Wetness rushed to meet his touch. His thumb rubbed my hard little nub further rousing me.

“You like that don’t you slut?” I moaned my approval.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slapped my thighs one after the other. The sting was shocking. It had been over a week and my body was not in the same mode. It was in vanilla mode. I hadn’t mentally prepared for this at all. I winced and whimpered. “Give me your hand.” I raised my hand from the chair where I gripped it and held it out in front of me. He grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand into my sex. “Rub your clit for me.” I did as asked. I moved my fingers around until my clit was positioned and I could rub it back and forth as he wanted. He took another drag on his cigar. Then I heard the sound of camera clicks. Oh shit, he’s taking pictures of me like this exposed in the front yard.

Again my thighs were slapped, and then I felt the stings of the tiny whip. It is an implement similar to a silicon basting brush. It is a tiny whip with long silicon falls. It looks like an innocent toy but stings like a motherfucker when wielded right. The whip teased my nipples and thighs intermittently. I gasped and moaned and every so often he’d stop and take more pictures. The picture taking added more to the level of exhibitionism he was demanding of me. It felt invasive and hot at the same time. I didn’t think I looked my best, such a female thought, but I knew he loved me in this position and under his control. Also, that I was completely exposed and he could do as he wanted without me having a choice.

“Your pussy is stubbly. You never come over like that. That’s cute.” He said. I cringed. I had rushed to get to him. I hadn’t prepared myself. And now there were stubbly pictures as proof. Oh well, I thought. I always end up paying for your mistakes.

“I asked you to masturbate and cum for me at least once while you were gone, did you?” I cringed again, caught. I had been completely immersed in mom-mode. He knows me too well. He knew I’d probably not made any time for myself. I was caught red-handed. I swear he reads me like a prized dog-eared book. I should know what’s coming but I only see the chain of events in hindsight.

“Stand and face the chair.” I stood and turned around. “Bend over, hands on the chair.” He rummaged in his bag again. His hand caressed my ass then spanked me. It stung a little but I love the feel of his hand on my ass. I could ‘endure’ that all day. Of course, he knows that simply by my reactions. Then I felt an earnest sting. No! Not the hand paddle! It is a polished disc of wood with a strap around the back. It fits snuggly to the palm of his hand and I hate it. He gripped the back of the collar and pulled hard so that my back arched and my ass was presented. “Mmm, I like this collar idea. I may need to rethink that.” He peppered both ass cheeks with stingy biting spanks from the paddle. I held onto the chair and squirmed away from the torture as best I could. As long as the hits didn’t fall on the same spot it was endurable but he knows how to punish. Many times the paddle fell on the same hurting, stinging places.

“Turn around.” I rose from the chair and turned to face him legs like Jello. I had pulled my shirt down to straighten myself up.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” My inner little girl winced at the tone.

“No Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

“When you write about this, because you will write about this, you will post one of these pictures with the post.  Understand?”  I nodded.

He took off the blindfold and I blinked up at him. My eyes growing accustomed to the sun again. “I missed you slut. I’m happy you’re home.” He pulled me close by the collar kissing me gently with passion and pulled me into his embrace. I felt tears and happiness streaming inside me. I was home.