Cathy decides to stand up for herself - wrong place & time.
There are moments that capture the essence of owning a submissive, and this was proving to be exactly such a moment.
I returned to studying her, and enjoying the remains of the wine. Soon I would take her for a walk along the pathway that paralleled the waterfront, and she would struggle even more to contain the orgasm. Soon, I knew, her struggle would fail, and she would be incapable of holding back her orgasms. Soon, her body would betray her and her remaining composure would be shattered. Soon, I would reaffirm just how much of a slut she truly was.
I was impatient for the moment to arrive, but knew I needed to give her time for her desire and desperation to mount yet higher. I relaxed in the chair, and tried to enjoy the wine, and the sight of my slut squirming in need. Her nipples were now quite clearly erect and visible through the thin cotton of her top, and her chest was heaving a little. She was well on the way toward where I wanted her.
I finished my glass of wine, and then called the waiter over to give me the bill for the meal. As she approached the table, I slid the control for the vibrator in my slut's cunt onto the second setting, and once more my slut cried out, slumping in her seat onto the table, then raising her head to look at me pleadingly.
The waiter seemed a little startled by the cry, but I also noticed her taking in the view of my slut, the erect nipples, and the well-displayed cleavage that lay pressed against the table. Was there a spark of interest there? Who was to know? Besides, I had other things on my mind now. I gave her my card, and she returned with the receipt. I stood, and picked up my slut's hand, raising her to her feet.
'Come, my little slut. It's time that we were going."
We made our way down the stairs from the caf__, my slut clutching tightly at my arm. I could hear her breathing deeply as we walked, along with the sound of her heels on the paving, the crashing of waves, and the traffic and other people passing by. There were no cries now, but I saw the determined look, the set of her jaw, the lines in her throat, and the careful way she walked. I knew I had her at the very edge of losing all control.
We walked slowly, arm in arm, along the path, enjoying the sounds and the view. I did note how heavily my slut was leaning on me, and how much she seemed to be tottering her way down the path. She seemed barely in control, and I judged that the area coming up, surrounded by people and a small vacant bench seat would be ideal for pushing her still further.
Therefore, as we approached the bench, I reached down and pushed both sliders to full. With a squeak, I suddenly I had a dead weight on my arm! She had crumpled almost to her knees, and the pleading look in her eye was now desperate, as she managed to gasp out "please, Master, please... please..." Her voice became indistinct and I knew for a certainty that she had now become a helplessly orgasmic slut.
I dragged her convulsing body the short remaining distance to the bench, and then let her slump against me as we sat, while her body shook, and her fingernails pushed helplessly into my wrist. Her chest was heaving, and she had bitten her lip hard to avoid crying out as the orgasms overwhelmed her, leaving her shaking as they arrived in wave after wave.
I sat back, enjoying the helpless sexual animal that my slut had become. Enjoying the shame I knew she was experiencing as her lusts took her mercilessly while she lay surrounded by people. Enjoying the certain knowledge she must have in her lucent moments between each wave of orgasm of how she had failed to live up to my requirements of only cumming with my permission.
Now I was prolonging my own enjoyment of her, torturing myself as my own need to have her and use her savagely grew, a need to fuck her mouth, to thrust myself into her and cum deep in her throat, leaving her gasping for breath.