Nandita To Nandini
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The Dinner (and Desert) - Chapter 2 - Something Ho free porn video
Chapter 2 - Something Hot in the Kitchen
I entered the kitchen in a fog, still trying to figure out how I would get out of this situation. I certainly couldn't just leave dressed like this. I didn't know where my clothes were, and so I had no car or house keys, and no money for a cab. Even if I did, there was still the issue of the makeup, not to mention my cock was tightly confined in this locked device, and she had the key.
I found the wine and threw it in the freezer to chill, and then began to prepare the meal. The simple tasks were made difficult, as I was not used to long nails. And the heels were a chore. I heard the shower and figured she wouldn't be out, so I slipped my hand under my skirt and tried to undo the cage around my cock, it would not budge. I returned to my task, and set up the rice pilaf and steamed broccoli. I heard the shower stop, and wondered what she was doing. After all, she looked ready to eat when I arrived. I made a salad, and then laid out some cheese, crackers and smoked oysters on a platter. Time to set the table. It hit me like a fist. FIVE. Who are the other three? I felt the rush of panic, and fear, and I could hardly breathe. Who would see me like this?
"It's quarter to eight. Why isn't the table set?"
Her voice jolted me from my fog. I looked up, and then stared. She was standing less that two feet from, dressed in a sheer black nylon body stocking. She towered above me in her bright red spike heels. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her full breasts were clearly visible, and her erect nipples protruded from the see-through material. The outfit was crotch-less. Her pussy lips glistened, and they were engorged and slightly parted. She was obviously aroused. And angry. Finally I focused on the riding crop in her hand.
Her bright red lips said "Just can't keep to your word, can you, little miss?"
"What do you mean? Dinner is just about ready." The words barely came out of my mouth.
"I told you I wanted dinner on the table by eight. Not after eight. Eight. And I certainly did not tell you to play with your cock. If I wanted to let you play with it, I would not have locked it up."
I stood in shocked silence. How did she know?
"Well, I can't very well cuff you, the guests will be here soon, and you'll have work to do. So, I'll just have to make do. Go get a chair from the dining room. Reluctantly I complied. When I returned, she told me to I lay face down over the seat of the chair. She got something from a kitchen drawer, and then came up behind me. Her hand went under my skirt and her fingers slipped under the panties and found my scrotum. Her touch was gentle, and her ministrations to my balls began to arouse me. "Does that feel good?" she cooed. "Does my little miss like to have Mistress touch her balls?" It felt so good, especially when she began to move the butt plug in and out of my ass. I couldn't believe how aroused I was, bent over in front of this woman, made up and dressed like a girl, unable to become erect like a man. Before I could answer, her gentle hand became a vise around my dangling manhood, and I let out a moan. "Not good enough," she said, "Does my little miss like Mistress touch her balls?" The grip became tighter, and I quickly said "Yes Mistress, I do so enjoy it when you touch my balls." Her grip did not loosen. "I was afraid of that," she said "this isn't suppose to be pleasurable." With that I felt a whack, as she struck my bare ass cheeks with the crop. I tried to jump, but her grip on my scrotum did not relent. "Do not move again, or it will be worse." I could tell from her tone she was serious, and to tell the truth, moving hurt more than the blow. Two more strokes fell on my bare ass. Each of the stripes on my ass continued to sting. "There, now let's put a salve on those wounds," she said. "Don't move." I wasn't even thinking about moving. She let go of my nuts, and fiddled with a container. I felt a cool sensation as she applied the salve to my bare ass, and then reached around and rubbed my sack. She pushed the butt-plug to make sure it was tightly inside me, and then put my thong back in place, flipped the skirt down and told me to stand up. The coolness of the "salve" quickly turned to warmth, and then a painful heat. I looked at her, and she was smiling.
"Do not think of reaching under you skirt, slut. You will learn that your only pleasure will be that which I decide to give. The salve will remind you of that. Don't worry, it will be very uncomfortable, but it will not cause any physical harm. Now set the table, or you'll be punished more extensively."
"Yes Mistress" I replied, not wanting to further anger her. I went off to the kitchen, and as instructed, set the dining room table for five. My ass cheeks, and even more so my balls, stung from the ointment, yet I did not dare to touch either. After setting the table I took the wine from the freezer, and the appetizers out of the refrigerator, setting them on the counter. The doorbell rang. I froze. It rang again. "Get the door, little miss," She called out. I didn't know what to do. How could I go to the door looking like this? Who would be there? But what would she do to me if I didn't answer it? The burning sensation of my balls and stripped ass made my decision easier. I went to the front door and looked through the peephole. "Oh, God," I thought to myself, "four of them."
I entered the kitchen in a fog, still trying to figure out how I would get out of this situation. I certainly couldn't just leave dressed like this. I didn't know where my clothes were, and so I had no car or house keys, and no money for a cab. Even if I did, there was still the issue of the makeup, not to mention my cock was tightly confined in this locked device, and she had the key.
I found the wine and threw it in the freezer to chill, and then began to prepare the meal. The simple tasks were made difficult, as I was not used to long nails. And the heels were a chore. I heard the shower and figured she wouldn't be out, so I slipped my hand under my skirt and tried to undo the cage around my cock, it would not budge. I returned to my task, and set up the rice pilaf and steamed broccoli. I heard the shower stop, and wondered what she was doing. After all, she looked ready to eat when I arrived. I made a salad, and then laid out some cheese, crackers and smoked oysters on a platter. Time to set the table. It hit me like a fist. FIVE. Who are the other three? I felt the rush of panic, and fear, and I could hardly breathe. Who would see me like this?
"It's quarter to eight. Why isn't the table set?"
Her voice jolted me from my fog. I looked up, and then stared. She was standing less that two feet from, dressed in a sheer black nylon body stocking. She towered above me in her bright red spike heels. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her full breasts were clearly visible, and her erect nipples protruded from the see-through material. The outfit was crotch-less. Her pussy lips glistened, and they were engorged and slightly parted. She was obviously aroused. And angry. Finally I focused on the riding crop in her hand.
Her bright red lips said "Just can't keep to your word, can you, little miss?"
"What do you mean? Dinner is just about ready." The words barely came out of my mouth.
"I told you I wanted dinner on the table by eight. Not after eight. Eight. And I certainly did not tell you to play with your cock. If I wanted to let you play with it, I would not have locked it up."
I stood in shocked silence. How did she know?
"Well, I can't very well cuff you, the guests will be here soon, and you'll have work to do. So, I'll just have to make do. Go get a chair from the dining room. Reluctantly I complied. When I returned, she told me to I lay face down over the seat of the chair. She got something from a kitchen drawer, and then came up behind me. Her hand went under my skirt and her fingers slipped under the panties and found my scrotum. Her touch was gentle, and her ministrations to my balls began to arouse me. "Does that feel good?" she cooed. "Does my little miss like to have Mistress touch her balls?" It felt so good, especially when she began to move the butt plug in and out of my ass. I couldn't believe how aroused I was, bent over in front of this woman, made up and dressed like a girl, unable to become erect like a man. Before I could answer, her gentle hand became a vise around my dangling manhood, and I let out a moan. "Not good enough," she said, "Does my little miss like Mistress touch her balls?" The grip became tighter, and I quickly said "Yes Mistress, I do so enjoy it when you touch my balls." Her grip did not loosen. "I was afraid of that," she said "this isn't suppose to be pleasurable." With that I felt a whack, as she struck my bare ass cheeks with the crop. I tried to jump, but her grip on my scrotum did not relent. "Do not move again, or it will be worse." I could tell from her tone she was serious, and to tell the truth, moving hurt more than the blow. Two more strokes fell on my bare ass. Each of the stripes on my ass continued to sting. "There, now let's put a salve on those wounds," she said. "Don't move." I wasn't even thinking about moving. She let go of my nuts, and fiddled with a container. I felt a cool sensation as she applied the salve to my bare ass, and then reached around and rubbed my sack. She pushed the butt-plug to make sure it was tightly inside me, and then put my thong back in place, flipped the skirt down and told me to stand up. The coolness of the "salve" quickly turned to warmth, and then a painful heat. I looked at her, and she was smiling.
"Do not think of reaching under you skirt, slut. You will learn that your only pleasure will be that which I decide to give. The salve will remind you of that. Don't worry, it will be very uncomfortable, but it will not cause any physical harm. Now set the table, or you'll be punished more extensively."
"Yes Mistress" I replied, not wanting to further anger her. I went off to the kitchen, and as instructed, set the dining room table for five. My ass cheeks, and even more so my balls, stung from the ointment, yet I did not dare to touch either. After setting the table I took the wine from the freezer, and the appetizers out of the refrigerator, setting them on the counter. The doorbell rang. I froze. It rang again. "Get the door, little miss," She called out. I didn't know what to do. How could I go to the door looking like this? Who would be there? But what would she do to me if I didn't answer it? The burning sensation of my balls and stripped ass made my decision easier. I went to the front door and looked through the peephole. "Oh, God," I thought to myself, "four of them."
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