O's Graduation

Thursday

After Master had showered, and prepared, He laid out slave's attire for the day. i was to wear 3-inch mules, and one of Master's old dress shirts. Because Master is quite a bit taller than slave, His shirts actually fit much like a frumpy housedress.

W/we went through the lobby to Master's waiting car. i didn't hear any nasty remarks, but i did hear one woman say to another, “Isn't that that woman?” or words to that effect. i suppose i was gaining a bit of a reputation.

At the car, the valet opened the door for me, and Master said, “odalisque, take off the shirt, and give it to the gentleman.”

Oh lord, it had started already, but i did not hesitate, much anyway. i unbuttoned the couple of buttons Master had allowed me to button, slipped the shirt off, and handed it to the valet. Actually, stripping naked before this person wasn't that difficult as the doorman had seen me naked or nearly so each day of O/our stay. What was difficult, was handing this man the only thing i had been given to wear for the day.

i handed the shirt to the doorman and said thank you. “No, thank you, miss!”

As i got into the car, the valet/doorman asked Master what He wanted done with the shirt. “Why not give it to a homeless person.” Master said, as He slid in behind the wheel and started the engine.

i was riding naked through the streets of San Francisco and Master was right, it does get easier. It is still challenging from time to time; like when W/we were stopped at a signal and two young men came right up to slave's window, literally put their noses on the glass, while discussing slave's collar and body.

Finally, W/we were on the open road headed north again. This time, Master stayed on Highway One and W/we went along the beautiful Pacific coast. While Master was driving along the ocean, W/we stopped a couple of times so that i could get out and look through Master's field glasses to watch the whales swimming south. While i was watching the whales, other drivers and passengers, of course, were watching the naked whale-watcher.

Master drove for quite a ways, and then pulled over to the side of the road at a little turn out. He came around and opened the door for His slave. He took me around to the back of His car, opened the trunk, and removed a picnic basket and a blanket. A few cars passed while slave was waiting, naked, by the side of the road; A couple of drivers honked the horn.

W/we went down the bank, to the beach, and Master spread the blanket. W/we sat and looked to see what the hotel had packed. There was an avocado and cucumber sandwich for me; and a roast beef sandwich for Master. There was a bottle of wine, with glass wine glasses, real plates, silverware and clothe napkins. There was a little bowl of Caesar salad for each of U/us, and a slice of cheese cake for dessert. It was quite an elegant picnic, and the weather was divine. W/we probably spent an hour or so over lunch, just enjoying the rhythmic surf, and sandy beach.

After lunch, i enjoyed sucking Master's smooth, hard cock and was allowed to cum twice. Master has such wonderful control that i can enjoy sucking His hard cock for hours.

It was well after noon before Master instructed me to clean up the picnic things, and return to the car. As i was putting the basket, and blanket, into the trunk, a car coming from behind me honked, and slowed way down, as they passed. It was a couple of young men and a young woman. They yelled something, but i couldn't make out what they said.

Back in the car, headed back toward San Francisco , i thought that Master had given me a day off. While slave was naked all day, i was not particularly “on display” except at the car, and riding through the city streets. Then it occurred to me; i had given away the only garment Master gave me to wear this morning. This was, perhaps, not going to be such a “day off” after all.

As W/we got into a more populated area, Master pulled into a gas station. It was self-service (most all are these days) and i very much expected to be the “self” doing the servicing.

Almost before the car came to a stop, a young woman in shorts and a tank top came up to Master's window, leaned in, and asked if W/we would like our car washed to support the local community college cheerleaders and song-girls. When she saw me, she turned and shouted to the dozen or so girls washing a car, “Hey you guys, come here quick, there's a nude woman in this car.”

So much for the day off. i felt as if i was getting an instant sunburn as the blush swept over slave's body. Master asked her to step aside so that He could get out and pump the gas. The young woman came around to slave's open window and said, to no one in particular, “Oh shit, she's wearing a collar, too!”

By now every one of the young women was at the car staring in, giggling, and prattling. The window was open so a very attractive blonde girl came over and asked “Don't you care that we are all staring at you sitting there nude?”

“It isn't so much that i don't care, as it is that i can't do anything about it. i don't think Master brought any clothes for His slave.” i think only about half of the group heard me, but the words “Master” and “slave” brought another round of giggles and chatter from those who did.

Master had finished pumping the gas and got back into His car. A girl with a ring in her eyebrow said “How about it, Mister, can we wash your car? It's only five bucks. Just pull around to the side of the station. We'll finish Marilee's car later” i guessed Marilee was one of the girls doing the washing, so her car could wait.

Master agreed to the car wash and drove around to the side of the station. From here W/we were hardly visible from the street; just as i had not seen them when W/we pulled up. Master decided that it would be too warm in the car with the windows up, while they washed, so W/we got out, to wait. This reduced the efficiency of the carwash team, because fewer than half washed and the other, more-than-half, come over to me to bombard me with questions.

i stood next to Master with his arm around me, His hand sliding up and down over slave's ribs and hip bone. “Aren't you ashamed to be standing around nude?” “Aren't you embarrassed to be nude in front of all these people?” “What do your parents think?” “When do you wear clothes?” “How did he get you to do this stuff?” “Don't you feel cheap?” “Does he make you have sex with other people?” “Can you take the collar and cuffs off?” “Does he beat you?” The questions came faster than i could answer them, but i answered as many as possible until Master's car was washed and dried.

When the girls finished, Master opened the door for slave, gave the leader a twenty dollar bill, thanked them, and W/we were on O/our way again.

“You did very well back there o. You are progressing quite satisfactorily.”

“Thank you Master, i am happy to have pleased You. i must confess that it was very difficult. Those girls are so close to slave's age, and I'm sure that they think that I'm an absolute slut.” And maybe they were right.

Again W/we stopped at the toll booth to pay to re-enter the city. This time the toll-taker was a woman and she just looked at me and looked away with a “tsk”.

Master drove to Ghirardelli Square and parked in the garage. Ghirardelli Square is an old chocolate factory that has been converted into restaurants and shops. i couldn't imagine what Master would do there with a naked slave.

Once parked, Master went to the back of the car and removed a dress, i had not noticed before, from the trunk. When He opened the car door He handed the dress to me and instructed me to put it on. The T-shirt style neck of the dress fits right below slave's collar, it has long sleeves, and the hem reaches slave's ankles. It covers slave completely, except for head and hands, but covers me not at all. It is made of such sheer material that the only way i could be more exposed is to be naked, but it was more than i anticipated wearing, and i put it on gratefully.

Master took slave's wrists and pulled them behind slave's back and attached the “d”-rings with what looks like a single link of a large chain. Now slave was as good as naked and bound at this very public tourist attraction. Bound as i was, i seemed to be thrusting slave's breasts forward, as if to be sure that everyone could see them.

Master led me through the garage, to the elevator where two other couples were waiting. As W/we approached, i saw one man nudge the second and jerk his head in our direction. When W/we stopped, the second man didn't even conceal the fact that he was staring at slave's breasts when he said, “Good evening.”

At the sound of his voice the two women turned and saw me. “Oh, geese! Why da hell did ya even bother wearin' the damn dress, you might as well be buck naked.” the older woman said in what i took to be a Midwestern accent.

i was a bit surprised by her reaction, but iI was discovering that one of the wonderful things about being a slave is the absence of responsibility. “slave is wearing the dress because Master instructed me to do so, Mistress.” i emphasized the words “slave” and “Master” for effect, and it worked. That was the end of the conversation.

W/we rode up to the ground floor in silence. When the elevator doors opened the two women walked out but the two men waited for slave and Master to exit. As W/we walked away, i heard one of the women say, “Oh quit staring, Elwood, you must have seen everything she has by now.”

Master led slave to a restaurant that was rather dark, so even the hostess didn't seem to realize just how truly transparent slave's dress is. She did look quizzically at slave's posture, with slave's arms drawn back by the cuffs. At the table, her question was answered when Master unfastened slave's wrists behind slave's back and refastened them in front. “You may leave your dress as is odalisque.” Master instructed, as He pulled the chair out for me to sit.

The hostess gave Master a menu and one to me. Her eyes were fixed on slave's cuffs when she said “Somebody (i don't remember her name) will be your server, I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

The waitress came to the table and looked immediately for slave's wrists. i'm sure the hostess told her about slave's cuffs. Master ordered for both of U/us, as always. Because the restaurant was dimly lit, the dinner was fairly uneventful. Of course, W/we received the usual overly attentive service. i am not sure that the few other diners, on this Thursday evening, noticed slave's bound wrists. The waitress certainly did, as i was struggling a little with slave's salad fork when she returned to ask if W/we were enjoying our meal.

“Is there anything i can do to help?” she asked gesturing toward slave's wrists and smiling broadly.

“i don't think so, but thank you for the offer, Mistress.”

After dinner Master and slave went to a lounge/bar that overlooks the bay. It, too, was dimly lit with tables-for-two along the windows and a long, probably 15 or 20-foot couch-style seat with tables and chairs back from the windows and then lots of tables behind and elevated a bit, and then a bar. Master instructed me to leave slave's dress as it was and sit next to Him on the couch, so W/we both had a view of the bay.

When i sit next to Master, on His right, slave is required/allowed to caress His beautiful cock, so i unzipped His pants and slipped slave's hand in and around His firming cock. There were only two other couples, each at a table for two by the windows. Neither seemed to notice where slave's cuffed hands were.

The waitress came to the table and Master ordered two glasses of Merlot. With slave's cuffs locked together, i had to twist slave's body to get a hand into Master's pants. i don't think the waitress knew slave's hand was in Master's pants, because of the table, but i am sure she thought that i was caressing Him. i read it in her smile, as she left to retrieve the wine.

The waitress returned with the glasses of wine and as she put slave's glass on the table she said, “i hope you enjoy.” and then “Oh, my!” as she saw where slave's hand actually was.

After a few minutes of caressing Master smooth cock, i asked, “May i have a sip of wine, Master?”

Master picked up slave's glass and brought it to slave's lips. Each time i asked for a sip of wine Master “fed” it to me as to a baby. It did not escape the notice of the other two couples at the window tables.

Before W/we finished O/our wine, the two other couples had departed, so Master instructed me to put His long cock into slave's mouth. By now, slave was so hot, and wet, that it never occurred to me to balk at the idea of sucking Master's sweet cock in the middle of a cocktail lounge. i reclined on the couch and slipped Master's beautiful cock into slave's mouth.

i was in heaven, moving slave's head up and down over Master's slippery cock. i vaguely heard a voice say, “Would you care for another glass of wine?” i knew it was the waitress, but i was past caring about anything except drinking Master's cum. Slave's mind slowly processed the fact that i was sucking Master's delicious cock with the waitress standing, presumably watching me. That was enough to put me over the top. i knew i should ask Master to allow me to cum, but i would have to take slave's mouth off of His hard cock. While i was debating what to do, an enormous orgasm swept through me. Slave's body shook and the only thing that kept me from screaming was Master's huge cock in slave's mouth.

“She certainly seems to have what she wants. May i bring you another glass of Merlot?” or something close to that, is the first thing i heard after i came back to realty.

“Actually, i think W/we will each have a glass of port, please.” Master said putting His hand on slaves hip, “Put it away now odalisque.”

“What kind of name is odalisque?” apparently the waitress was going to wait around while slave put Master's cock away, so i licked Master's stiff cock one last time and replaced it into His pants, keeping slave's hand on it. When i sat up, she was looking right into slave's eyes with a look i really couldn't decipher at all.

“Actually, ‘odalisque' is her name and her function. Tell the lady what odalisque means o.”

“Yes, Master. Odalisque is a French word meaning ‘a female sex slave' or ‘concubine'. It is a beautiful name, don't you think?” i don't know if she looked at me as if i was a slut, or if i just thought she did.

“I guess it is, yes. I will be right back with your ports” the waitress excused herself.

When the waitress returned with the glasses of port, she said, “These are compliments of the bartender and the three guys at the bar. They were watching you reflected in the windows.” i turned to look at the bar and two of the men raised their glasses toward me as if toasting.

When W/we finished O/our port, Master released the wrist cuffs and said, “odalisque you have soiled your dress with your juices. i can't take you back to the car looking like that. Remove your dress.”

i stood and pulled the dress up over slave's head and off. i handed it to Master who draped it over his left arm. Master stood, took slave's hand and led me toward the door. Just when I was thinking that this naked in public stuff was, in fact, getting a little bit easier, Master said “Go to the bar and thank the people for your port, o.”

i walked as if i was a little girl on high heels for the first time and walking over marbles. i could feel the inside of slave's thighs soaking wet with slaves own juices. At the bar, the three men were sitting talking to the woman bartender watching me approach. i said, as clearly as i could manage, “Th-th-thank you very much f-f-for the glass of port for Master and His slave.”

“You're very welcome. i guess it wasn't as good as what you had to drink right before though, was it bitch.” One of the men said.

The word bitch kind of took me by surprise, but then i said, “Oh, the port was very good, thank you, but I didn't get to drink Master's delicious cum; hopefully later.” i hadn't finished the sentence when the man reached out and took hold of slave's nipple and pulled me toward him. Slave's first reaction was to resist, but i wasn't sure if Master would want me to.

The bartender said, “Hey, knock it off, Brian.”

“She's just a horny, slutty little whore. She doesn't mind, do you?” the man said, but he did let loose of slave's nipple.

By now, Master was at slave's side. “I think these gentlemen have seen enough of you, and I know we've seen enough of them. Come along, o.”

“I'm very sorry Mister, but she's kinda askin' for it, struttin' around nude and all.” The bartender said apologetically.

“Oh, that's alright, it isn't your fault.” Master said leading me to the doors and outside.

It was only about twenty-five feet from the bar doors to the elevator, but there must have been fifteen people around. Master's naked slave made quite an impression. There were whistles, cat calls, camera flashes (another chance to make the internet, i'm sure) and, then the elevator doors opened.

“Jeeeeesus!” i didn't see which of the two men leaving the elevator said it. Master led me into the elevator. The two men turned around and got back on the elevator. “You don't mind if we go wherever you're going, do you?” they were looking me up and down.

Master said, “W/we are going to my car, but you are welcome to ride along.” A number of other people entered the elevator so that it was quite cramped and i could feel one of the men's hand against slave's leg moving up toward slave's sex. Just as his hand got to the juices on slave's upper thigh the elevator stopped and some people, and Master and His slave, got off.

“Thanks sweetie.” One of the men called as W/we walked away.

In Master's car, W/we stopped at the booth to pay for the parking. The attendant bent down to get a good look at me, with slave's hand inside Master's pants. “Shit. She wasn't kiddin', you are nude. Brandi, the bartender at the lounge, called down and said that a nude woman would be comin', and you forgot to get your ticket validated. So I should jus' let you on through. I woulda, anyway, for this view. You're really somethin' lady.”

“Thank the man odalisque.”

i don't know why i forget to “thank” people. i guess they, sometimes, don't seem like they are really talking to me, but just making a statement. “i'm sorry Master. Thank you very much, sir, you are too kind.”

On the ride back to the hotel, Master said that He was quite pleased with His slave. “Though you do realize that your orgasm was without permission, don't you, odalisque?”

Yes, Master. i am very sorry. Slave's only excuse is that, to ask permission, i would have had to expose Master's wonderful cock to the waitress, and i wasn't sure that You would want that, Master.”

“I will accept that excuse, this time, but you will not allow it to happen again, will you, o? Other than that, I am quite pleased.”

Slave was happy to have pleased Master, but again, i had to wonder. It has been six days and a few hours, and i have been naked more than dressed, groped by strange men, photographed naked by god-knows how many people, been called a bitch, a slut, and a whore. i've lived twenty-six years without ever being called any of those names, or anything close. Now, for the last six days those names keep cropping up.

Maybe i am a slut. i'm sure if i saw a woman sucking a man's cock in a bar, i would unquestionably think she was a slut or a whore; Or, at least, i would have before i became Master's slave. Does the fact that i am Master's slave make me different? Maybe the fact that i am Master's slave, in itself, makes me a slut. In the “training films” Master had me watch, some of the Master's called their slaves “sluts” and “cunts” and other degrading names; But Master has never called slave anything like that. Even during slave's training, when i disappointed Master, He never called me those names.

When Master pulled into the hotel garage He handed slave the dress saying, “I guess you will just have to wear your soiled dress, odalisque, i have nothing else for you.”

“Yes Master. i am very sorry that i soiled slave's lovely dress.” i put the dress on over slave's head so that it slid down over slave's body when i got out of the car. i could see the doorman stare at the damp stain on the dress around slave's sex. Others stared at the stain, or perhaps just at slave's bald pubic mound, as W/we walked through the lobby to the elevator.

In the elevator, Master instructed slave to remove the dress. The day i thought was going to be a “day off” turned out to be quite demanding. i can only guess at what Master has in store for His slave in the coming days. No, on second thought, I can not even guess.

After oiling Master's giant cock, and writing in slave's journal, Master allowed His slave to suck His hard cock. He let me cum a number of times, and then slave got to drink His hot, delicious semen. Then He allowed slave to fall asleep with His marvelous cock in slave's mouth. It was a wonderful end to a very challenging day.

i don't think i have ever slept as soundly as i have this week. i think it is because, by the end of the day, i am so totally emotionally exhausted.