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Mistress pointed out the restaurant on the right. We drove past it, but there wasn't a parking lot, and the street parking was all taken. We ended up parking a block away.

It was Sunday afternoon in Portland, and it was gray and damp, but it had stopped raining a few hours before. As we walked to the restaurant, we went past a piercing place on the corner. There seemed to be a lot of them in Portland, and whenever I saw one, I shivered a little bit.

We crossed the street and went into the restaurant. It was an unassuming-looking Chinese place, and there were actual Chinese eating there, which was always a good sign. Mistress sat down at a table, and I sat across from her. At the table we were at, I had a clear view through the window at the piercing place across the street. It could be a total accident, or it could be entirely on purpose. Naturally, I couldn't think of anything else.

A couple of months ago, when Mistress had been asking me about things I wanted to try, I had told her that I wanted her to have me pierced. To pierce her cock to prove that it was owned.

"A permanent piercing is a big commitment, pet," she had said. There had been a tone of caution in her voice that I took to mean that she thought it was too soon.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I don't want to rush things. But whenever you think the time is right, I would love to wear a ring for you."

She had looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you sure about that, pet?"

"Yes, Mistress. You can... I mean... whenever you're ready... umm... you can just go ahead and, uh, have it done." I had stumbled over my words, nervous at what I was saying, and also worried about whether I was being too blunt about what it is I wanted, about the fact that I wanted to give her complete control of when and where it happened. Was I telling her what to do, topping from the bottom?

Fortunately, she had just smiled and said, "We'll see, pet. We'll see."

So now every time I saw a piercing place it made me wonder if today was the day. Which is why I kept nervously glancing across the street.

The waitress came to take our order. I realized I had had the menu open for several minutes and hadn't even looked at it. I glanced down quickly and ordered an eggplant dish I'd never had before. She took our menus and left.

We talked for a few minutes about the movie we'd seen earlier. It had been pretty sexy, which had been exacerbated by the fact that Mistress had slid her hand in my pants, and had kept playing with her cock, but not allowing me any relief. The theater had been fairly crowded, so she hadn't had me go down on her this time. But just the fact that she had played with me like that was enough that I didn't remember the movie very well. So I was having a little trouble keeping up my end of the conversation.

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(Yes, its a continuation from part 4...)When I arrived the following week I had a lovely feeling of anticipation. I hoped that James’s fantasy wasn’t one that involved being smeared in jam or something. John was there when I arrived, as was James. Harold was unable to come that evening and I hoped I hadn’t given him a heart attack! I gave both the boys a kiss and they both took the opportunity to feel my breasts and my bottom. I didn’t resist, but told them to go easy and not get over-excited....

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The sun was hot in Phoenix without a cloud in the midday sky. Zoe Chapman sat at an outdoor café sipping an ice coffee and watching a young girl walking toward her. The girl was tall, tan and lean and blond and as sweet an innocent looking as she could possibly ask for. She was a college student from nearby Arizona State, a straight A student and as poor as a church mouse. Zoe on the other hand was a very successful businesswoman of thirty. She was a six-foot tall black haired beauty who...

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