Now that I've had time to think, I put my finger on precisely why I like K so much. It's because she maintains her connection to me even while being mercurial and matter-of-fact. I've had capricious Tops before, and it can be disastrous. They decide they want to do one thing, something else crosses their minds and the change in direction is too abrupt and everything falls apart. And I've had matter-of-fact Tops who think pretending not to care (or really not caring) is a form of subjugation, when in fact it just sucks.

So during our second playtime, when I was standing naked before K, having just cooked and served her dinner, it was a huge thrill when the thought randomly crossed her mind:

--Oh! In that drawer there, there's a ruler. Get it for me. I feel like smacking your balls.

I hand her the ruler and she immediately wraps her thumb and index finger around the base of my sack, squeezes, and turns my now-aching balls upward. Thwack-thwack-thwack goes the ruler, and I wince each time.

--Look! I can do it as hard or soft as I want and you just have to take it! Isn't that great?

She thwacked me a few more times. Then she looked up at my pained expression.

--I just thwack it, thwack it, thwack it (she hit me each time she said it) and you take it! So awesome!

A genuinely gleeful smile dominated her face, like she was sharing a new discovery with me, as if I were separate from the person who knew all too well the power she had over my body.

--This position stinks. I need a better angle. Put your foot up on that chair.

I complied and she landed a few more hits.

--No, higher. Put it up on the table.

That position just became more awkward, though she got in some good shots.

--I know, I know. Turn around and bend over... No, all the way over. I want your balls fully exposed... Good. Now spread you feet farther apart. Perfect.

She worked the fingers of her left hand tenderly behind and around my swollen sack then clasped them into a firm squeeze.

--Wow your balls are red! I'm getting you good, huh?

--Yes, Miss.

It was as though she could see herself as separate from the Top and thought I could see myself separate from the bottom. She wanted us to be two people sitting in the stands cheering on the scene.

--I'm gonna really go after these balls now, okay?

--Yes, Miss.

I steeled myself.

--Oh but one thing first. You have been good so you should get a reward.

And with that, her tongue pressed firmly against my swollen skin. How delicately she traced it all over the punished places, even swooping up and rimming me for a few moments. Totally unexpected on our second playdate. Totally electric.

My cock sprang immediately to its full length.

--Ah, perfect! A handle!

And with that she grasped my dick firmly and smacked my balls with the ruler. None of the strikes was ever more than I could handle, but the cumulative effect became almost unbearable.

When she'd had her fill, she was kind enough to trail just her fingertips oh so gently along my tender skin, cooing to me softly, barely stirring the pain while providing stimulation beneath. And when that stopped, I instinctively started to stand up. Her response was stern:

--I did not tell you to stand! Get back down!

I bent back over immediately.

--Get all the way on your knees! Face on the floor! Ass up and spread!

The sudden turn in her temperament was thrilling. I was happy to obey. I was hard to obey.

--Wider! Use your hands to spread your ass. No part of you is off-limits to me. Expose yourself!

Again, I complied gratefully. This was the core thing. I wanted to be laid bare before someone, to be vulnerable and accepted at the same time.

And with K, I was starting to feel it was possible.

Then she switched again, back to the wide-eyed girl in the candy store whose hands could reach into any jar, cabinet, or display case.

--I love you in this position.

She knelt next to me and set her hand on my ass. She drummed the skin with her fingers, then traced a fingernail in circles on the small of my back, like water turning in a basin, then drained it along my spread ass, over my asshole and down to my balls, where the fingertip bloomed into a warm hand that cupped me reassuringly.

--You're so wide for me. So open.

She began a path of kisses at my wrist and took it to the tip of my right index finger.

--Lift...

I began to raise my head.

--No. Just the finger.

She helped it rise with her tongue, then slid her mouth over it. Somehow it took a moment for the sensation of heat to register; I knew her mouth was warm, and I knew it would make my finger warm, but there was a strange delay that enlivened the warmth's arrival.

When my finger was good and hot and wet, she took her mouth away.

--Put that finger in your ass.

I complied, sliding it in as far as it could go, knowing she would be disappointed if I tried anything less.

--Good boy. Now go get my phone.

I didn't know if I should stand or crawl, but I reckoned the finger wasn't to come out of my ass. I chose crawling and wasn't corrected. When I returned with the phone, K was sitting at the table writing something.

To keep my head down, ass up, finger in AND reach the phone up to her took some major contortion. She knew it was uncomfortable for me, or at least I think she knew. I mean, if you described the situation to her and said would a person in that position be struggling she'd say yes, but was she aware of it in the moment or was she so caught up in the writing that it wasn't registering? My point being, it would be hotter if she were consciously pushing me.

Forget it. I'm babbling.

So she takes the phone and slides the piece of paper in front of my face. It has this written on it: E, J, Kr, Ka, V, W, D, G, A, L.

--Pick, she says. Pick any 3

I'm scrambling to figure out what the letters stand for in case there's a way to steer myself clear of excess punishment...Electro? Jute? Vaginal...

No idea. So I just pick. E, J, Ka.

--Great! Now get that ass up as high as it will go and spread it really wide for me!

I comply as she hops up and stands behind me.

--Hold perfectly still.

It suddenly dawns on me she's taking my picture in this humiliating position, which sends a burst of heat through my stomach.

--There. Got it.

She kneels down next to me, holds the phone in front of my face.

--Look. Look at you all spread for me with your finger inside.

The photo is just as embarrassing as I thought it would be.

--I'm so proud of you that I'm going to give you a super special treat. Are you ready?

--Yes, Miss.

She fusses with her phone for a few seconds, then turns the screen to me again:

--There. I sent your picture to Evelyn, Joanne, and Karina. E, J, Ka.

She left me in that position for a long time, and I got to wondering if this was the most humiliating thing I'd ever done, or allowed myself to be ordered to do. Then it dawned on me that not two days prior I may have been even more humiliated.

It was my first playdate with K. We'd met through FL and had had coffee and got together for coffee a second time but that turned into walking down to the beach, having a drink and then a long, easy dinner.

Our first time playing was a lot of her testing my ability to follow orders. Nothing difficult, lots of positions and crawling...she dressed me up a little, just trying to find what she liked and what I responded to. I laughed because it became obvious she was watching my cock to see what got a rise, and when I told her that she said it was the perfect truth serum.

The day was a success for both of us. Towards the end she asked if I knew how to cook. When I told her I did she commanded me to make her dinner with whatever was in the house.

Stark naked, I rooted through the kitchen to see what she had, and decided to be a little weird and make her breakfast for dinner. Then, just as I'm taking the griddle out of the cabinet she appears holding a pink butt plug and a bottle of lube.

--Insert please

She said it like a robot, then laughed at herself, which cracked me up.

After I got the plug in and washed my hands, I had scratch-made pancakes (I secretly got a favorite recipe up on my phone) and bacon on the table in 20 minutes. She was duly impressed. She'd set the table for 2 and even gotten a candle for the occasion.

--Have a seat

I stepped around to sit opposite her, but she quickly stopped me.

--Oh no. Here

She pointed to the floor on her left.

I knelt next her, and for the next 10 minutes she ate in silence. I was forced to listen to the sound of her chewing and swallowing, which was not awesome. Not that HER particular chewing and swallowing noises bothered me, but that ANY chewing and swallowing noises bother me.

Ew.

Finally, she spoke.

--These pancakes are delicious. Seriously. Thank you so much.

--My pleasure

--Would you like some?

--Yes, please

She cut off a small wedge of the fluffy goodness.

--Bacon?

--No thank you. I don't eat meat.

Her eyes suddenly went wide.

--But you still eat pussy, right?

She said it with fake indignance, and I lost it.

--Yes, Miss

--Good. How about syrup?

--A little, please.

She swabbed the bite around in the syrup and raised the fork from her plate. I obediently opened my mouth wide in expectation. As she brought the bite toward my mouth, she moved her face towards mine. And when the food was between our mouths, she stole it off the tines.

She rose above me. Setting the fork down, she took my head in her hands. She was chewing voraciously, simultaneously gripping my head, turning my open mouth upwards.

Finally, she let the fully masticated food spit from her mouth and into mine.

--Eat

I instinctively began to chew, though the work had been thoroughly done, and swallowed soon after. To be honest, it just tasted like a bite I had chewed. It was the weirdness that left an aftertaste.

All that having been said, it is probably that third playdate that's the most humiliating. It's the one going on right now. You see, gentle reader, I'm currently tied to a chair in her living room with only one hand free and a pen and paper on a little table next to me. K instructed me to write about our first two playdates while she went out with her girlfriends. Like, two hours ago and counting.

But let me start at the very beginning.

As usual I'm greeted with a hug and a sincere kiss on the mouth. K is adamant about being equals when we're not having playtime. It's a pretty much NSA arrangement, but we're both fans of common courtesy and the plight of our fellow travelers. So it's okay to share the occasional frustration from work or new restaurant find or happiness about our dogs. We listen, but we don't get involved.

She asks me if I'm ready. I eagerly tell her I am. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then she looks at me:

--Let me see my panties.

As I left last time she gave me a pair of thong underwear and told me to keep them with me at all times. She texted the next morning and told me to wear them to work. She had me text her when I was taking my lunch break, then responded telling me to send a picture of me with my pants around my ankles and panties exposed. Posing for that was especially hot as I was in the master bathroom of a client I've always found sexually devastating. Shooting a selfie in her mirror gave it a little extra juice.

A few days later, as instructed, I texted K when I got into bed for the night. She commanded me to jerk off into the panties. She wanted a picture that showed me standing with my cock in my hand, a picture of the cum in the panties, and a picture of the "cummy panties stuffed in your mouth".

The panties became a talisman for the energy of anticipation. I knew I could be sent instructions at any time, and that someone I was coming to respect and trust, whose gorgeous body I was eager to worship, would be thinking of me, coming up with orders that both turned her on in and of themselves and turned her on because she knew she was fulfilling my desire to obey.

So there I stood, before my Miss, in nothing but panties, an anticipatory erection straining the fabric.

--I have several special surprises for my good boy today.

--Thank you, Miss.

--But first go clean my bathroom.

--Yes, Miss.

K had shown me where she kept the cleaning supplies on our first playdate, wordlessly implying I'd need them in the future.

It turned out to be a pretty bland assignment, arousal-wise. I am a thorough cleaner, so there wasn't much to criticize when she checked in on me. Of course, a good Top can always find something to criticize! :)

But she mostly praised and appreciated my work as I scrubbed away and wished things would get more interesting...

You've heard it a million times, be careful what you wish for.

Miss sees I'm just about done with the bathroom and calls me into the living room. I remove the bulky yellow gloves, set everything neatly in the bucket, and do as I'm told.

Two wooden dining chairs have be set side-by-side with a few inches between the seats. Miss asks for the panties, then orders me to sit so my asshole and balls are available between the wood. Once there, she uses clothesline to make a loop around each ankle and the top of each thigh, so each leg is bent as far as it can go.

She then ties a knot around the inside of each of those loops and yanks it tightly back against the chair, tying my legs as wide as they'll go in this squatting on the chair position.

She lifts my left arm over the back of the left chair and ties the wrist, my arm out straight and angled down, to the back leg. The ties the right arm at the elbow to the front of the chair, which allows it some movement, but not enough to, say, jerk off.

It's not until she lifts her skirt and begins wiping the panties against her pussy that I realize she's changed in what looks like a tennis or golf skirt and tight workout shirt. It's very flattering. What's not very flattering is her sliding the panties over my face so the crotch is over my nose.

--Sniff my cunt.

Miss heads off into her bedroom, and returns pushing a writing table, the kind shaped like a sideways U that you can use while sitting in bed. She slides it under my right arm. There is a notepad and pen on it.

And then nothing. She sits down on the sofa and reads a magazine.

Twenty minutes pass in silence. I peek at her through the band of the panties. My legs are starting to burn, and I squirm to shift to whatever position is more comfortable. Even the delightful scent of her sex is starting to fade...

Then new information comes to light.

The intercom buzzes. When K answers, we can hear women laughing.

I hadn't thought much about it at first, but now I see the chairs I'm tied on are facing directly at her front door. My face gets hot with anticipatory embarrassment and flush with excitement. It's nothing I've ever felt before.

As I'm forced to await my humiliation, K adds to it by bringing 3 more chairs from the dinner table and putting them in a semi-circle around me, about 6 inches from my legs.

I try to catch her eyes, maybe get a little comforting pep talk or explanation, but she acts like I'm not there.

Then she strides to the door and opens it wide.

No matter if it's one of her neighbors walking by or the friends she's invited over, I'm about to be exposed in a very new way.

I'm only slightly relieved when three women enter, as I wasn't sure I was ready for a random stranger to see me like this.

General hellos and hugs and kisses. The women are also wearing similar sporty skirts and tops, the day's uniform. Even their shoes match, unblemished white with 3 colored stripes.

Meanwhile I'm almost short of breath with the anticipation of becoming the focus of their attention.

K eventually turns them towards me and they all take in this pathetic sight.

It's enough that all four of these women are attractive, and enough that K is filthy in ways that complement my dirty brain, but what absolutely buries the needle on my Holy-Shit-O-Meter is that these 3 friends are in on the play. Even if it's nothing more than them looking at me, they know what their friend K is into and are willing participants. Fuck. Ing. hot.

Widespread cooing and giggling and gasping as the women take me in.

--Sweetie, you remember Evelyn, Joanne, and Karina, right? The girls who got your picture last time...

Before I can answer:

--Maybe he doesn't remember. Why don't you show him...

They flip through their phones and each bring up the picture Miss took of me with my finger in my ass, holding it up inches from my face.

--Now you remember, right?

--Yes, Miss

Speaking through the panties is particularly humiliating.

The girl with the short blond (SB) hair suggests they take more pictures and send them to new girls. Miss agrees wholeheartedly.

--Snap away, girls. I'm going to get my list!

They move in close, two of them taking pictures of me from every humiliating angle. The 3rd girl, commanding and curvy (C&C), leans in and talks low in my ear.

--K is always too easy on her boys. But she'll let me take you for a day, and I'm gonna teach that ass how to get fucked hard. How do like that?

Too stunned to answer, I was only able to stare wide-eyed at her... and my hesitation cost me a hard slap to the face.

The second picture-taker, who was kneeling for the best angle, ran her free hand up C&C's leg and squeezed her butt.

--You tell him, Ev.

Then SB grabbed my hanging balls and my eyes went right to hers.

--Next time, answer when you're asked a question.

And with that she squeezed hard and, if I hadn't been tied helplessly in place, I would have doubled over.

Thankfully, Miss came back and the ladies turned to her, all smiling like nothing happened.

--Get some good shots?

They took turns showing each other the pics, finally agreeing on a couple of favorites. Miss consulted the list she'd had me choose letters from.

--Okay, who should we send them to, sweetie?

C&C jumped in:

--Myra

--Oh my stars, no. He's not ready for Myra. She'd eat him alive.

They all laughed in agreement.

She held up the list to me.

--K-A-L, I managed.

--Kristin, Alyssa, and Lydia. Perfect!

The women all busied themselves with sending my helpless, exposed body off to 3 new strangers. Would I meet them too? More and more to women pile on my humiliation and abuse?

God, I hoped so.

--Okay, sweetie, just a couple thing before we leave you. First--

Miss carefully removed the panties from my face. She turned to C&C...

--Would you mind?

C&C took the panties and lay them on one of the chairs. Then she stood backwards over seat, pulled aside her own panties, and began masturbating over them. The two other new girls immediately ran their hands all over C&C. They spoke soft compliments about her beauty and sexiness, about how turned on they were watching her, how grateful they were that she'd do this in front of them. I was absolutely transfixed. Nearly at overload, really. So much new information was coming to light!

The three women worked in unison to bring C&C to a huge, spurting orgasm. It soaked the panties completely, soaked the chair, soaked the rug below, soaked SB's tongue, which she stuck out for a small taste. Watching her open her mouth, eager to taste her friend, my mouth fell open in subconscious sexual tandem, my tongue slid forward.

And then I felt a surprise. A lubed finger suddenly pressed against my asshole. I turned to see Miss kneeling beside me, smiling up at me. I hadn't noticed she'd snuck off while C&C was masturbating.

--I need you to do something for me while we're out. A couple things, actually.