I froze, my brain misfiring.
“What?”
My hesitation earned me a sharp spank. “You heard me. Push it out.”
I knew what he meant, but I was too embarrassed. I reached back, thinking to guide it out as I pushed and hide the process from him, but he grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand away, spanking me again, harder, in exactly the same spot.
I yelped — because… ow — and panted, panic and reluctance making me feel I’d run a race.
“Push it out,” Sir said, then, “You know your safe words.”
I did, and yellow hovered on my tongue, but mortified as I was, I wanted to do it. I started pushing, hesitantly at first but then with more determination as the glass resisted my efforts. I felt the plug slide free, and Sir caught it by the base with his fingertips.
“Good girl.” He gave me barely a moment’s respite, then slid it in again. “Again.”
I did it, feeling the stretch as my muscles gave way, the thudding setting up in my clit from how taboo and public this felt. I heard a click, the sound of Sir taking a picture.
“That looks amazing,” he said, “You’ve got a beautiful handprint on your ass.”
He caught the plug as I released it pushing it in again.
“One more time.”
I obeyed, releasing the plug with no effort this time, and Sir slid it back home. I felt him pull my skirt down, gently patting my rump.
“Turn round. On your knees. Legs spread.”
Understanding the drill now, I turned to Sir and reached for the vibrator.
“No,” he said. “Stop.”
I halted, hand outstretched.
“Top up,” he said.
“Sorry, Sir, I murmured, thinking that was all I’d forgotten. I pulled my top up, exposing my breasts, nipples already peaked, and went for the vibrator again.
“The clamps,” Sir said. “Put them on your nipples.”
I resisted the urge to look behind me, see if we’d any watchers, and picked up the clamps, attaching one to each nipple. They dug in, pinching me sharply. It was a nice pain, though, just there but not overwhelming.
“Now,” Sir said. “Three minutes. If you last till the end, I’ll let you cum.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked. Surely if I didn’t last, I’d cum anyway?
“If you don’t last the three minutes, you don’t cum for a week.”
Well, there was motivation.
“Yes, Sir.”
I picked up the vibe and pressed it to my clit. Knowing I couldn’t cum just turned me on even more. My orgasm waved hello immediately, ready to rush forward at the slightest provocation. I shifted on my knees, trying to stave it off.
“Play with the chain,” Sir instructed.
The chain connected the two nipple clamps. Taking my free hand off my knee, I snagged the dangling center and started tugging.
Oooh, that made it worse. I whimpered, shifting about, knowing I couldn’t take the vibe away but dying to cum.
“Harder,” Sir said. Then, “One minute left.
I tugged harder, making the pain bloom. The countdown made the tension inside me rachet up. Hold on, I thought. Nearly.
I gave up and let the orgasm rocket through me just as Sir said, “Now.”
I gasped, digging my free hand into my knee, fingers curled into claws as I sought not to make too much noise or shift about. The trees in the background blurred as pleasure bloomed behind my eyes and I panted, juddering through the aftershocks.
“Well done,” Sir murmured. “Good girl. Now, turn around.”
Fuck, what? We weren’t done.
Feeling giddy and wobbly, I turned and fell onto my hands, head dangling down as I sought to get my breath back. I’d forgotten to pull my top back down and my breasts swung freely, the chain linking my clamped nipples twinkling in the sun. Horrified, I reached for my shirt to tug it back down. I looked up to see I had been just in time: two old ladies were meandering by on the path. If they’d glanced over, they’d have gotten a full view.
“You know what I’m looking for,” Sir said.
I did. Trying not to look at the ladies — there is no surer way to get someone to look your way than by staring at them — I pushed the plug out and then felt Sir push it back in. Out, and in. The third time, he let the plug drop to the blanket, I felt it hit the inside of my knee, the glass warm from being in my body.
“Reach back and spread.”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I hated this. I did as I was told, though, in that zone where obedience quieted my self-consciousness. Lifting up slightly so that I didn’t fall on my face, I reached back and placed both hands on my ass, pulling them apart to expose my asshole. Silence, ticking by with excruciating slowness. I heard a low squirt and then fingers circled my rear entrance, cool with lube. The play with the plug had already relaxed my muscles and one finger slid in easily, followed by a second that made me give no more than a wince of discomfort. He moved them slowly in and out, in and out, then removed them and added a little more lube. I braced, thinking we were going to three fingers, which was a serious stretch for me, but Sir had other ideas. He slid both fingers back into me and then leaned forward so that he could whisper in my ear.
“Ride them,” he said. “Ride my fingers.”
Oh, bloody hell.
I moved forward a tiny bit, then slid back. Repeated. It felt… well, it felt amazing but I was also looking out at the park trails, and as the afternoon sun warmed the air, getting rid of the earlier chill, it was getting busier. A man with a dog walked by, his attention on his phone, and I paused, not wanting my movement to draw his attention.
Sir did not like that. He slapped my ass hard with his free hand and then reached into my top and took a grip of the chain.
“Ride my fingers,” he said, adding a tug of the chain as a warning, should I hesitate again.
Danger wanks are the best wanks. I’d always been turned on the most, toying with being caught. Throwing caution to the wind, I bit my lip and focused on my task. Forward and back, forward and back. With the clamps still giving me that little pinch of pain, I knew if I had my bullet vibe I’d be cumming again, hard. I debated asking for it, but there really would have been no hiding that and I didn’t fancy ending my afternoon getting arrested for indecent behaviour.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Fuck, Sir.”
“I wish I was,” Sir said. “Jesus.”
He pulled out of me and then grabbed the back of my neck. Manhandling me into position, he shifted so his back was to the trail, hiding me from view, then he tore his trousers open. There was no slow build up, none of the long licks and kisses I liked to do as I worshipped Sir’s cock. He wrapped my hair up in one hand and held his cock in the other, pulling me onto him, fucking my mouth. I couldn’t breathe, and I was scared I was going to choke, but I held on, hands gripping the blanket, looking up at Sir while tears pooled in my eyes.
He was looking back down at me, eyes blazing.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Fucking look at you. Oh baby, I’m going to cum.”
I was ready to swallow it, but Sir pulled back, his cum landing on my cheek and chin, some of it dripping down to splatter on the tops of my breasts, still held high by their position in my bra.
“Yes,” he said, taking my chin and lifting my face to look at me. “Stay just like that.”
I remained where I was, half sprawled on the blanket, cum all over my face, as Sir grabbed some wipes from the picnic bag and cleaned himself up. When he was done, he packed away the picnic, ushering me onto the grass as he folded up the blanket. Finished with the clear up, he gestured to me, and I stood up, walked with him along the trail, past the picnic area and out of the park, towards the carpark.