The Par

I am posting this story because Sir told me to do so. I met him on line about a year and a half ago. Today He is my Master, but more importantly my Lover.

He feeds me His strength, His knowledge, His care and concern for my well-being. Understanding how much it means to me to truly be able to serve him, to care for Him, in every way, He also honors me by sharing His dreams and His vulnerabilities.

Under His guidance I have been able to live out fantasies I have had for years. He takes me to scary places and brings me back strengthened and renewed. He has taught me many things, but perhaps the most important of those is that I am okay exactly as I am; that I am worthy of love even when (sometimes specifically because) I am messy, emotional, less than perfect. I do not have secrets from Him. I don't need to.

The story...

I arrive at your office wearing a long skirt, my high heeled boots... and panties. The panties are because, before I came over, I had ducked into the restroom, used a disposable douche to clean myself out and slipped in the medium sized glass plug. I didn't use lube, so it should be okay, but better safe than sorry.

When we get to my car, I open the passenger door, but before I can go around to the driver's side, you put a hand on my arm. "Not yet." Standing between me and the parking lot, you slide your hand over my bottom, feeling the flat end of the plug. You smile at me, pressing it deeper. "Good girl. Take off the panties and give them to me."

I look around. "Here?!"

"Now."

I glance around again, anxiously, then lift my skirt, hook my fingers in the waist band and slide them down as quickly as possible, letting the skirt fall as I step out of them. "I'll drive. I want your bare ass on the seat."

I get in, lifting my skirt out of the way. You drive out of the garage. At the stop light, you pull yourself out. Putting your hand on the back of my neck, you say, "Serve me." I wait until you start to pull forward, figuring that way people will be focusing on the road, then lean over and take you into my mouth.

I can't see, of course, but I know where we are going. Whenever we stop at a light you reach over, sliding your fingers under the edge of my skirt, teasing me. Eventually I feel the change as you pull around the loop and into the parking lot. You stop the car but do not get out, choosing instead to put your hand on my head, guiding me, holding me in place as you count slowly to ten... again... and again.

What seems like a long time later, I feel your hand lifting me. "Give me your lips." You kiss me deeply, then set me back against the seat, reaching for the buttons on my blouse. You unfasten them and then the front clasp on my bra, pinching the nipples hard, making me arch and moan. "Take the bra off, but keep the blouse."

When I have complied, you open your door and get out. It is cold, still light, but not for much longer. The park is deserted. I follow you toward the shelter. As we pass a small tree, I see you cut a switch, using your knife to shave off the side branches. I feel my body react to what I suspect you are about to do.

At the shelter you order me to my knees, putting me back to work. You use my hair to guide me. Then, "Stay there, but spread your knees. Good. Now lean back and put your hands on your ankles. Head back." I feel you push the blouse open and know what is coming. "Count for me."

The switch is pliable, narrow, the sting is intense. I bite my lip and pant, fighting for the control to stay in position. "One." On the second strike I cry out, trying to keep it low in case there are other visitors within hearing. After the third stripe, you slip your fingers under my skirt. "You're wet, pet... my messy girl. Ready for more?"

Alternating sets of three with moments of play. I feel the welts forming, and the sharp agony whenever you strike the same place a second time. By nine tears are starting in the corners of my eyes. Three more then you order me "Up now. Put your hands on the wall. Lower."

I am bent at the waist, legs spread, the boots putting me at just the right angle. You lay the skirt over my hips and pull the plug out, not trying to be gentle. "Nice." I feel your finger drift over the gap left by the plug and shudder with embarrassment, knowing what it must look like. The end of the plug touches my lips. "Open." I flinch, but do as I am told. "Don't drop it."

You step close. I feel you press against me then push forward. The plug is not as wide as you are, so even with the stretching, it burns as you drive inside. Your hands come around, gripping my breasts hard. The welts begin burning again as you squeeze. I whimper. "Good girl. Come for me. Come now!" My belly tenses once, then again as I feel you speed up then push deep and shudder.

Just as the tremors start to taper off, there is a flash of headlights on the road below. You pull out, flipping the skirt down and hastily tucking yourself away as I begin buttoning my blouse.

We link hands and head toward the car as a police cruiser turns into the side lot. "Park is closing folks."

"Thank you Officer. We were just heading out." I see his eyes flick the front of my blouse. My nipples are sharp clear points, but he says nothing as we open the doors and get in. He waits for us to pull away. We grin at each other as we reach the light.