A few weeks had passed since my hairless butt's first encounter with Don's powerful, bearish palm and wooden paddle.
My invitation came in the mailbox one afternoon, not asking me if I would like to come by his NW DC's apartment for another spanking session, but as an expectation that I would attend when instructed. After all, Don had informed me, at the end of our last butt reddening session that he owned me now. He even ordered me, this time, to wear a thong, preferably with a net pouch, that allowed my nutlets to be visible at all times. The strap should barely cover my pink, hairless butthole, easily pulled to the side for inspection.
My butt spanking would begin precisely at 9 a.m. the next Sunday morning. I thought that was an odd time, but Don was very precise and a planner. He was obviously in an executive position in his career, articulating every direction with precision and control. His formal attire, his vocabulary and his demeanor left no doubt who was in charge. My stubby, waxed, pinky dick, baby smooth butt and undersized nutlets had learned that his palm demanded obedience. Don was not only a bear of few words, but a man of action and control.
I arrived right on time with little traffic, being a Sunday morning. The door swung open and a formally attired Don greeted his chubby Blondie once again informing me to leave my sneakers by the door. He said nothing but pointed to my skimpy athletic shorts. I knew from our previous encounter what was expected.
Once again, the boss carefully folded up my shorts placing them on the same chair in the living room as before. I stood by the door as he returned and inspected me nodding approvingly at my choice of thong. It even matched my string tank top. Don felt my boyishly waxed buns pulling aside the narrow strap to inspect the pale pink butthole. He fondled my junk and nodded approvingly when he reconnected with my totally bald crotch and 3.25 inch peachy boner. He used two fingers to almost lovingly squeeze both of my sweaty little grape sized testicles. Maybe grape sized is being too generous but you get the idea. My churning little sperm makers did their best but let's put it kindly, rated a bit low in job performance. They certainly are cute though moving around in their pinky sac.
I headed again for the red leather chair by the large living room window, but Don guided me into an adjacent bedroom. Two large windows, devoid of blinds or curtains, illuminated a queen-sized bed all neatly made up as if expecting guests.
Don instructed me to lie on the bed, keeping on both my string tank top and thong. He offered me a drink and informed me that we are expecting guests. I protested, cursed and started to get up but quickly got into line when my boss gave my hard pinky dick a quick but firm swat. "Are you going to cooperate Blondie or do I need to twist those silver rings in those bitch tits again? I see those pink jugs of yours appear to have enlarged even more since your last visit. It's so easy to squeeze them and twist those nipples especially with those rings in those nursers." I got the message. I nodded.
Mike and Bill observed as Don punished my ass again. It was so embarrassing especially with the guys using their iPhones to get some video of the action. My bubble butt was on fire as I laid across Don's lap. Sobbing after the finality of oak meets bare buns, Don informed me that today's session was over and I was such a good little chub that he was treating me to lunch at Annie's.
We both arrived at the restaurant, very gay, noisy and frigid with the ac cranked up to the deep freeze setting. There was a line to get in, being a Sunday around noon, but we had reservations and were taken immediately to our table right there on the busy pathway, heading past the bar and to a stairway, apparently leading to additional seating upstairs. It was obvious that Don was a regular there and good friends with our handsome waiter.
I sat there shivering in an extremely hard, oak chair feeling so humiliated, ashamed and yet totally turned on by my situation and attire. Everyone else was in Sunday garb while I sat there, clearly exposed to all customers coming and going from the main entrance and bar, with my waxed, overfed, soft, PB style jugs jutting way out like ringed beacons and my soft, well-nourished belly sagging out over the thickened fat pad. My suction cupped pink nipples just screamed please squeeze
us and see me cum. My unprotected, now thong less, crotch was clearly visible with the airy freedom of those skimpy, open legged athletic shorts. As before, my boss had laid claim to my garment back at his apartment. I definitely had been set up with this loose attire. I was pissed but totally turned on by my involuntary exposure. I could feel my slippery 3.5-inch, rigid, pumper oozing onto my thighs and soaking into the thin cotton material.
Our waiter whispered back and forth to Don, occasionally looking over at me and grinning ear to ear. A menu was never offered to me, and it appeared that Don had ordered for me. I was squirming in my hard oak chair, shivering, hungry and nervous as hell. It appeared that all the other chairs had soft cushions on them. It seemed like everyone coming in was focusing on my chubby/perky nursers and exposed crotch. Could they see my erection or maybe even my precum leakage? The more I worried about it the worse things got. My nutlets were churning in anticipation. The bartenders were whispering, grinning and leaning out over the bar to get a better view of me as our waiter brought our food.
Don had a huge, juicy steak on his plate along with a baked potato swimming in butter and garden-fresh corn on the cob. It looked delicious! My mouth watered in anticipation. Our waiter returned with my meal. WTF! The waiter grinned and handed me a peanut butter sandwich on white bread, and a cookie with milk. I was so stunned and fucking pissed. The smiling waiter bent over and pinched my chubby tits and....... FUUUCKKK! I shot my PB load right there in my shorty shorts. He playfully grabbed at my stubby and handed me a white, cloth, dinner napkin. The bartenders were in stitches trying not to be too obvious. "It's okay Blondie. We will get you cleaned up after you enjoy your cookies and milk", whispered Don.
