Afternoon at the Park 2

The mistress pulls out a butt plug from her bag of tricks and pops it in her own mouth, sucking on it like a lollypop. It’s big enough to barely fit in, wide and long. She kneels down and spreads the punk-girl’s ass cheeks, then pulls the plug out of her mouth and jams it deep inside. She has to twist it and force it in—the hole is fairly damn tight.

The punk-girl lets out a moan and the mistress backs off, surveying her work. The plug is in so deep that only the base is visible, big and round. She nods to herself, then looks around for her next toy.

Out comes a whip, and the mistress plays around with the punk-girl, rubbing the end along the redhead’s cheek, along her bare breasts, down her thighs, along the tiny strip of red pubic hair just above her slit.

“Make her squeal,” one man yells out.

“Put something in her other holes,” a woman puts in. I look at the crowd; they are hungry for the show.

The mistress doesn’t want to put down the whip, and she walks around to the punk-girl’s abused ass and gives it some more attention.

Crack! Crack! The whip sounds loud in the park and the punk-girl is groaning. The mistress doesn’t spend to much time on the whipping, but follows the crowd’s advice and finds a long dildo in her toy bag. She walks around to the punk-girl’s front and shoves the dildo deep down her throat. The girl gags but manages to somehow take it all.

It’s only a way to lube up the dildo, however, and the mistress pulls it out and puts it somewhere else, instead. Now the redhead punk-girl is filled in both holes, her nipples still erect and held by the clamps. I begin to notice something strange; the dildo, as well as the butt plug, have some kind of strange grooves in their bases.

The mistress pulls out her final device; a metal band. I’m confused, and so is the crowd, because nobody here has seen anything like it before. The purpose of it soon becomes clear; the mistress fastens it around the woman’s hips, and the metal band hooks into both the dildo and the butt plug, holding them in. The front of the band has a metal hoop that is the exact size for a padlock, and the mistress locks it in place.

Next the woman reaches up and unties her punk-girl, both hands and feet, and lets her free. She handcuffs her hands behind her back and grabs hold of the leash once more.

The crowd is silent as the redhead totters forward on her heels, her mouth open in ecstasy.

“Walk,” the mistress orders, tugging on the leash. She leads the redhead forward, into the midst of the crowd, butt plug and dildo still inside the poor girl.

I look on in interest as the mistress walks away. I wonder how far they will go. A lap of the park, maybe? Will the mistress let the crowd have their way with the woman’s mouth? (it is the only hole that’s free right now, after all).

I pick up my book and put it under my arm. There’s only one way to find out.

End of Part 2.