Jennifer Takes A Dare

In one swift motion, he went down to one knee and pushed her minidress up around her hips, exposing the G-string and its flimsy triangle of fabric that barely covered her mound. He hooked his fingers around the G-string and pulled, breaking it with a loud snap. He tossed it aside.

"You won't be needing that anymore."

"Yes, sir," said Jennifer, trying to refrain from plunging her hands into his hair. His head was right below her, at waist level, and it was so fucking tempting...

"Spread your legs."

She obeyed, walking her feet outward, no easy task in the fuck-me heels. Her master then took the straps of the harness and fastened them snugly around her upper thighs, and as he tightened them she felt the rough nylon webbing rubbing against the sensitive flesh. The plastic butterfly now lay pressed against her pussy. He adjusted it, making her gasp as his hands brushed her skin. She felt a small, hard nub on the underside of the butterfly slide into place over her erect clit, pressing against it deliciously. There also seemed to be some kind of ridge underneath the butterfly, and this was now pressed in between her pussy lips, spreading them apart slightly. He made a couple of final adjustments, and stood up, apparently satisfied. "Pull your dress back down."

Jennifer did, but only as far as he had told her she was to wear it. She looked down, and thankfully the straps fastened around her thighs were not visible; the dress was pulled too low, but not by very much. The plastic butterfly, she discovered, was flexible and allowed her to walk normally, or as normally as she could with the sensation of constant pressure on her clit and pussy.

"It feels good, sir."

He nodded. "Yes, it does. And it's going to feel even better soon." He took another object out of the velvet bag and showed it to her. It was a small black rectangle with a small button and a dial on it.

"This is a remote control. The butterfly between your legs is a vibrator."

Jennifer's eyes widened. "A vibrator, sir?"

"Yes. You will wear it throughout our meal here."

Without warning, he pressed the button.

Instantly, exquisite pleasure bloomed between her legs as the butterfly buzzed against her clit and aching pussy. A loud moan escaped Jennifer's lips, and her knees began to buckle. She caught herself on the edge of the sink.

"Oh, God..." she whispered.

"It feels wonderful, yes?"

"Oh, God, yes, sir, so nice, so nice," Jennifer said, trying not to moan again, afraid the people out in the restaurant would hear her. Her legs were squeezed together awkwardly as she tried to extract as much stimulation from the vibrator as possible.

"Right now it is on setting one, the slowest speed. The dial on the remote control goes up to ten." He paused, letting this sink it, then clicked the vibrator off. Jennifer made a disappointed sound in her throat.

"Don't worry, slut, you'll get more. Plenty more. Come." He unlocked the bathroom door and held it open for her. At least a dozen heads turned to stare.

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They sat at their table and a waiter approached, giving Jennifer a strange look but saying nothing except, "Drinks for you tonight?"

Her master ordered for them both, a glass of pinot noir for himself and a gin and tonic for her. She hated gin and tonic, but that didn't matter. She kept looking at the hand she knew held the remote control, praying he would turn it on.

But he didn't. The minutes stretched out endlessly, the plastic pressing her clit and pussy, her juices trickling out from around it and dampening her minidress. The drinks came, and she sipped hers, trying not to grimace at the taste.

"You don't like your drink, whore?" he said suddenly, his hypnotic eyes watching her face closely. "Tell me the truth."

"Well...no, sir, I don't like gin and tonic very much."

"Drink it all. You have three minutes. Starting now."

"Wh-what sir?" He had spoken so rapidly Jennifer wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

He frowned, and her stomach dropped. "You heard what I said. Drink it all. Two and a half minutes left."

Jennifer suddenly didn't want to know what would happen if she failed to carry out his instructions. Bracing herself, she raised her glass to her lips and took a large swallow. It burned down her throat, and the oily taste of the gin made her want to vomit. But she managed another good-sized swallow, and then there was only a little bit left in the glass. Steeling herself, willing herself not to throw up, she tossed back the last of it. Then she stifled a horrible-tasting belch with the back of her hand.

"Good girl." Her master smiled. "You deserve a little reward." He turned on the butterfly, and she saw him move the dial.

The exquisite buzzing began again, but more intense this time, and Jennifer groaned out loud and clutched the edge of the table. She was vaguely aware of people and the surrounding tables turning to stare at her. Oh, but fuck it felt so good on her horny little clit and her greedy pussy! Panting, squirming in her seat, she tried again to maximize the sensation as she had done in the bathroom. The unmistakable beginnings of an orgasm began to tingle deep inside her wet cunt.

Then it stopped.

The frustration was mind-bending. She was sure she would scream, barely managing to stop herself by shoving the knuckles of one hand into her mouth. Her pussy burned and throbbed mercilessly, crying out for sexual release.

She looked pleadingly at her master, who only gazed back at her with his impenetrable small smile.

Their waiter returned, eyeing Jennifer. Several other people around them were doing the same thing, including the two bitches in the smart outfits. The crowded little room was starting to feel stuffy, Jennifer realized, starting to feel too small. God, how her cunt ached...

Her master placed their food orders, and Jennifer hardly heard him. She had noticed that a knot of people had formed on the sidewalk outside the bistro's big plate glass window, and they were staring in. They were all men, and they were all staring at her. In fact, she realized with dawning humiliation, it was the drunk men that had felt her up outside, while she and her master had been waiting for a table. They were all watching her now, a couple of them with their jaws literally dropped open, all of them with hungry, lewd expressions on their faces. She had no idea how long they'd been there, but from the way they were looing at her, Jennifer guessed they'd seen her reaction to the buzzing butterfly.

Shame and embarrassment mixed with frustration and horniness in equal amounts, making her head spin. She didn't know now whether she wanted him to turn on the butterfly again, she was so confused, and so fucking horny...

She heard a faint click then, and the intense buzzing pleasure that exploded through her drove out everything else. He had turned up the speed again, she knew that as surely as she knew her own name. She struggled against the urge to just shove her hand down there and start masturbating frantically. The buzzing felt so damned good...but it wasn't quite enough!

Then, something happened that made Jennifer think she was going to lose her mind, right there at their table. Her master began to slowly twist the dial up and down, causing the vibrations to slow down, then speed up, then slow down again, over and over. The remote now sat on the table, and the forefinger of his right hand rested lightly on the dial, casually twisting it back and forth at random intervals.

It was the most intensely erotic, most intensely frustrating thing Jennifer had ever felt in her life. Waves of pleasure washed through her, pushing her towards the climax she needed so badly, then receded, leaving her high and dry and aching. Then the waves would return, drenching her, and then recede again. Her mind reeled in confusion, her body quivered, tears of need rolled down her cheeks.

"Please, sir, please, sir, please, sir," she said over and over again.

"No." The vibrations stopped.

Then she did cry out, a low scream that vented at least a little of her maddening frustration. The little thing pressed so intimately against her sex was just a piece of dead plastic again, immobile, giving her nothing. She ground her ass and pussy against the seat, but it was no use.

She looked around, suddenly aware that the entire room had gone silent and every single person was staring at her. Some were frowning, some were laughing, most looked puzzled. Outside the window, the middle-aged perverts were all slack-jawed now, practically drooling at the sight of Jennifer in her slutty outfit, getting off in the middle of a crowd of people.

"Please, sir, can we go?" she whispered, staring down at the table.

"No."

"Oh, God, sir, please! Everybody's staring!"

"Quiet."

Her mouth snapped shut.

Their waiter returned with the food, and retreated quickly. Her master began to eat. Jennifer looked down at her own food, a seafood quiche with a Caesar salad, and realized she was ravenously hungry. The other patrons were mostly looking away now that the show appeared to be over. Jennifer knew it wasn't, but dug into her meal nonetheless.

He turned it on again when she was about halfway through her salad, driving her to the brink of orgasm again. This time she managed to stay quiet, but sweat stood out on her forehead and her teeth were clenched as she fought the urge to scream again. Then the vibrations stopped, for the moment. Her master allowed her enough time to catch her breath and eat a few more bites before vibrating her pussy yet again. This time the shocks of pleasure racing up from her clit and pussy were more intense than ever, and she was sure she would have a screaming orgasm whether she wanted it or not. Which she did. Oh, fuck, did she ever want it.

But her master seemed to know exactly when to cut off the vibrations so as to deny her the final push she needed. He turned off the butterfly again.

"That was level eight," he said. "The next time I turn it on, it will be at level ten, the highest setting."

Jennifer looked at him, sweat dripping down her forehead now, legs trembling, her breath coming in gasps.

"You will cum, slut. You will cum very, very hard. Do you understand?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir," she said.

"As you climax, you will tell everyone in this restaurant that you are a slutty little whore who loves to be fucked by big cocks. You will scream it as loudly as you can. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jennifer said, nodding again, almost frantically this time. "Yes, I understand sir. This little slut understands." She was so horny, she would do anything to be allowed to cum, she knew. Anything.

"Good. Eat."

She obeyed, hardly tasting her food now, bracing herself for what was going to happen.

Please, please, she thought, please let him turn it back on, oh fuck, I need it so bad...

Her master's finger twitched, and the buzzing, tormenting little butterfly switched on, and the vibrations made her suck her breath in with a small squeal and drop her fork. It clattered onto her plate.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, she thought incoherently. The overload of pleasure rushing to her brain from her pussy limited her thoughts to just that one word, over and over again. She ground her ass into the seat furiously, her head thrown back, her neck muscles straining, sweat rolling down her face. Distantly, she heard her master's deep voice, cutting through the orgasm that was shaking her body.

"Say it," he commanded.

Jennifer remembered. She knew he would turn off the vibrator before her climax was over if she didn't say the words he'd told her to say, and the thought of that was worse than any humiliation she might experience.

She tried to focus through the ecstasy, and forced her mouth to make the words.

"I'M A SLUTTY LITTLE WHORE..." she yelled hoarsely.

Gasping for breath, she tried to finish the sentence. "...WHO LOVES TO BE FUCKED..."

More gasping. "...BY BIG COCKS!"

Then she gave herself over completely to the delicious pulsing ebb of her climax, and the warm afterglow that followed. She slumped down in her chair, breathing hard, eyes closed. She barely noticed now that the vibrations had stopped. It didn't matter. She had never felt so satisfied.

"Open your eyes," her master ordered.

"Yes, sir," she said, and obeyed.

Shocked faces surrounded her. Everybody was staring. Some were agape, some were laughing at her, some were whispering to each other. The waiter was frozen halfway to their table, as if he were afraid to get any closer. The men outside the window were making obscene gestures at her; one of them stuck out his tongue and flicked the tip up and down rapidly, like he was eating pussy.

She had degraded herself in front of a room full of strangers. She had called herself a cocksucking whore at the top of her lungs. She had orgasmed in public. The humiliation was intense. Tears came to her eyes and her face and neck felt hot. She stared down at the table, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Mercifully, her master didn't make her look up.

But underneath the shock and embarrassment, she couldn't deny to herself that she was getting aroused again already.

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She hardly remembered walking out of the bistro and to his car. The humiliation had been utter and complete; the owner of the bistro had come to their table and threatened in a loud voice to call the police if they didn't leave at once. Stares had followed her all the way outside and down the street. Not once had Jennifer been able to raise her head more than was absolutely necessary to keep from running into things.

But during the drive back to the hotel, her embarrassment had dissipated quickly, the now-familiar pulsing in her clit and pussy replacing it. She was definitely getting horny all over again, and Jennifer knew it was a result of her humiliation at the hands of her master.

What's wrong with me, she had wondered silently as they drove. She didn't know. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with her, and this was just what she got off on. All she knew for sure was that some part of her had liked it, and liked it a lot.

They arrived back at the hotel and went up to the penthouse, where he immediately told her to strip. She obeyed quickly, with the butterfly being the last thing she took off.

"You did well tonight," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Jennifer replied demurely, looking down at her feet.

"Let's see if you enjoyed yourself." He was standing close to her, and without warning he dropped to one knee and thrust his hand between her legs. Jennifer gasped, as much with excitement as with surprise. He massaged her pussy lips for a moment, making waves of pleasure course through her. Then he pulled his hand out and stood up.

"It seems you did, slut." He held his fingers up in front of her face. They glistened with her own wetness.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I guess I did, sir."

"Tell me you loved it, whore."

"I loved it, sir."

"Louder."

"I loved it, sir!"

"Open your mouth."

She obeyed, and he stuck his wet fingers in.

"Clean them off."

Jennifer did, tasting herself on him as she had earlier that night.

He pulled his fingers out.

"You have earned a reward. Lay down on the bed."

"Face up or face down, sir?"

"On your back. I'm going to eat your pussy."

"Thank you, sir!" Jennifer squealed with delight.

She lay down eagerly, with her knees up and her thighs spread. Her master knelt on the bed between her legs, and bent forward to give Jennifer her reward.

What followed was an eternity of teasing pleasure, of being pushed toward orgasm, then pulled back, then pushed a little further. He used his tongue, his lips, his teeth, his hands and fingers; she clutched the bed sheets like a drowning woman, screamed and begged incoherently, thrust her hips against his face uncontrollably. When he finally forced her to cum, he pushed three fingers deep into her pussy and finger-fucked her roughly as the orgasm broke over her. The sudden feeling of being violated by his strong hand ratcheted her orgasm up to into the stratosphere, and it felt to Jennifer like she would keep cumming and cumming forever.

Eventually, she came back down to reality, spent and satisfied for the second time that night. As she lay on the big comfortable bed, eyes half-closed, hair tangled, feeling relaxed, he asked her a question, and she had a ready answer.

"It's midnight Jennifer," he said, watching her from a chair across the room. "Your trial period is over. Do you want to continue this little adventure?"

She turned to look at him, and answered without hesitation.

"Yes, sir. So much, sir. Thank you, sir."