Before the Concert

You stand up and face the mirror, and me, mouth full and proud that you were able to make me cum. It runs over your tongue and coats your mouth, warm and salty and a symbol of ownership.

"Do NOT swallow until I tell you, whore."

You nod, happy to comply, to have me in your mouth that much longer.

You feel me hold your face in my hand as I fix your lipstick and your hair. You love knowing that I take care of you, that I value my little whore enough to make her pretty for others to see when we go out. I have yet to motion you to swallow, and you begin to comprehend what you are in for.

We travel a path to the concert that I've specifically made to be just long enough to make you remember you are being made to do things for me, things that are a challenge. You've had to nod to the F-line cable car operator, and even shake your head as I've asked you questions in front of others to test you.

As we've moved through the city, eyes have followed you EVERYWHERE. With your choker that looks deceptively like a collar, and your form-fitting dress, you are a vision that makes people forget themselves. And people can see - if they pay attention, and few do, foolishly - that you have thigh-highs on. If they are truly attentive they notice no panty or thong lines and that you are wearing nothing under that dress at all. They can tell you are a little plaything, someone sex-starved. Someone they want on their arm in public and in their arms in private. You can feel your cunt get wet with pride at the show you put on. And you know that I beam at your place beside me - even if they have no idea it is not just your beauty this time but your obedience and ability. I always tell you that a good girl, a good submissive is not to be treated as anything but a treasure, and you can see that I mean that with each step.

At Davies Hall it is far more crowded than we thought, and you can feel me pressed up against you as we wait in the crowd for the line to form for the tickets. You feel me then, from behind, very slowly lift your dress up, up, up, and you quiver and become nervous. You know that everyone will see, soon, the tops of your thigh-highs and your ass, if they are looking, if there is space in the crowd. You move your hand down unconsciously to stop me, unable to speak, and you feel a WHACK as I sting your hand with my own. You stop, breathing hard, and wait.

Your cunt lips have now completely opened as you stand there. I don't have to see it – I know it. You don't know what to do, but keep your wits about you – one more thing I admire about you, that I saw the minute I laid eyes on you. If anyone can see or is paying attention, they would notice now your bare ass, and my hand, as it slowly, slowly, and firmly, definitively pushes, just to the first knuckle, only a fraction of an inch, into your asshole.

It's too much. The sting and pleasure involuntarily send your mouth open an instant, and then, before you can close it, a sliver of my cum slides down the corner of your mouth. Just as we get to the front of the line.

You feel your dress hem dropping in one quick, motion and me slide beside you.

"Pardon me, Ma'am," you hear me say to the small young woman behind the ticket window – most likely someone barely of age, an intern perhaps from a local college. I believe my little pet needs a tissue." I then turn to you, and I say, loud enough for anyone to hear, but especially the girl: "Swallow. Now." You do, slowly, like you want the experience of the last 20 minutes to end as slowly as possible. Those waiting in line have no idea what is causing the delay. And none of them, not one, ever, will ever come close to imagining why the beauty in your face and actions is so vivid and makes them wait. You dab the corner of your mouth, and then you hand me the tissue. "Good girl," I say to you (the girl behind the window suspects it's her I mean, staring at us like she's seen a ghost of her future), winking at the young woman who has turned red and is now breathing audibly. We squeeze our way from out of the head of the line, stares following as you feel me squeeze your hand.

You continue swallowing, moving every last bit of me from inside your mouth to your tongue and down, smiling at me in the process. Before we enter, I stop you and lean down to kiss you, affectionately, like any of the other couples in the lobby.