This weekend I almost died by orgasm. Another of our picture requests has a ball-tie in it, and W wanted to try something out with it before we did the actual request. I don’t know if he figured out what he was trying to (I do know that we’ll be doing the actual picture request scene at a later time), but I do know that he is really starting to enjoy playing with me with a Hitachi.
He’d never been into using one before I came along. Apparently he has seen the light (or would that be the dark?) ;-) or maybe figured out it can be used for torment as easily as for pleasure. Pleasure that turns into torment. Do you know how hard a body strains in the throes of orgasm? It doesn’t care if there’s rope binding it or not. Yeah. Almost killed myself coming. He had loads of fun with that.
Anyway, prior to that bit of yummy torturous goodness, he decided that it was time for me to “pay up” on one of my penalties. Previously I had posted on going to dinner with a lovely fob hanging from my rings. I wore it in all innocence, assuming that it would count toward the penalty assessed–but came to find out it did not. I just got to wear it for “fun.”
You know, W’s fun.
So this time, I made sure that it would. I also checked the exact requirements. I didn’t actually have to wear it out to a restaurant or anything, just “into a public restroom.” So…yeah. That means I could have it attached, drive to the gas station, wear it in the girl’s room, and come back home. Easy-peasy, right?
Here’s how it really went down.
W attached the chain to my rings, ensuring that it hung below my dress. Then we drove to Denny’s for brunch.
It hadn’t really registered that this wasn’t what I was planning until we got to the parking lot. Then I looked across the long expanse of pavement to the front door, in front of which a young woman stood, apparently waiting for someone to join her.
“Seriously?” I said. “I have to walk all the way there, like this??”
“And then all the way through the restaurant to the ladies room,” he said.
I dithered for a few minutes, then, because I knew he wasn’t going to relent, I made my way across, with him taking pictures close behind.
What I didn’t take into account was that my shoes (that I love) are attention-getters. I cringed as I saw every woman’s eyes I passed going down to them…they had to see the chain as they looked at my shoes. Also? That chain felt TWO FEET LONG. It felt like it was clanking around my ankles! It was only when I saw the pictures that I realized it hadn’t been that long.
Then, once we got into the restaurant and I sat down, I had to face another dilemma. This one I had perpetrated on myself. He had told me I could walk straight through to the restroom. But I was sooo embarrassed, so sure that every eye was on me and the chains that hung from my cunt rings, that I practically dove into my seat. And then didn’t want to get back up to hit the ladies room. But if I didn’t? I’d have to walk out with the chains dangling again.
W solved the dilemma for me, though. When I confessed to putting off going to the restroom he looked at me and said, “Stand up. Now.”
I gulped–but I did. And then scurried away (well, shuffled, actually, trying to hold my legs as close together as possible) into the restroom, where I would be permitted to remove the chains.
I also thought about placing the chains on the table in front of W when I returned, but I wasn’t sure if that would embarrass him (good) or me (bad) more. I kinda figured it’d be me that paid the price there, so I just put them in my purse and sauntered back to our table.
Part 1 of the Penalty paid!
To see the entire list of Tasks that W assigned me and the Penalties assessed for each, see An Accounting.