A Date With Tara
Published by Shane Adams at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Shane Adams
Standing on the beach in the bright sun, feeling my skin begin to burn, I don't know which is the strongest emotion. Is it the self-loathing that comes with knowing that she's outplayed me once again, and that once again, as always, I have been tricked into a situation I am not enjoying one bit? Or is it the humiliation of being stuck out here, miles from anywhere, wearing only the most pink and micro of micro-pouches I have ever seen? Or is it the deep, deep sense of shame I feel about having pissed on myself, and the certain knowledge that she will notice, and treat me with that special mixture of contempt and sympathy which is hers alone, and which makes me die inside every time I experience it?
I look around me, and there is just emptiness in every direction.
How did this happen? Let me tell you…
Sunday night, and she texts me to say she wants us to go for a walk the next day. She tells me where, and when, and tells me that she expects me to be there, on time, and if I am good, then there might be something good for me at the end of it. She makes it very clear to me that I will be hers for the day. Her text says to make sure I have shaved myself 'down there', which immediately excites me. Tara will occasionally reward me with a massage if I have been especially well behaved, and usually, if that is a possibility, she will make sure I am shaved first. I retire to bed full of anticipation for the day ahead.
The next day, I catch the bus and arrive at the beachside car park on time, as instructed. She is already there, waiting in her car, at the most distant parking bay, and I walk over to meet her. She beckons me into the car. As usual she is beautifully dressed, almost overdressed for a walk, I find myself thinking. As is always the case, I find myself mesmerised by her cleavage. She has the most fantastic breasts and she dresses them to maximum effect. Today, the plunging neckline of the long blue silk dress she is wearing reveals that she has a lacy black bra on beneath, which she threatens to spill out of at any moment. She is beautiful and more desirable than I can express in words. As always, I am overwhelmed by her, and unable to process my feelings for her. Being close to her like this makes me want to cry and I am unable to speak. To me, she is a Goddess.
'Drink.' she says, handing me a chilled bottle of water. 'It's going to be hot - you don't want to get dehydrated.' I drink, and she gives me another bottle.
We chat a bit, drink more chilled water, and she tells me about her week. Then the mood changes.
'Undress.' she whispers.
I can't resist looking around to make sure I won't be seen. There are a few cars on the other side of the parking area, and some people walking out in the morning sun, but no one is close enough to see what we are doing.
'Do as I say. Do it now!' she tells me more firmly, and I begin to take off my shoes and socks.
As I take my shirt off, she reaches into her bag and takes out a gift-wrapped box.
'I have a present for you.' she says, and smiles. 'I know you are going to like this. Quickly! Take the rest of it off...'
A few moments later and I am sat next to her naked, with my gift in hand. She draws a little heart on my leg with her red lipstick. I feel a little vulnerable, but I know that this is how it must be, and after a while I forget my anxiety as she gently massages my cock with hands oiled and slippery from a tube of hand lotion she has produced from her bag. The sensation of her hand gripping my erection and gently teasing makes me fidget. I bite my lip. All I want from her right now, all I want in the world, is for her to kiss me, and make me cum.
'Unwrap your present.' she says softly, continuing with her gentle pulling at my erection.
I pull the little pink bow, tear at the paper and open the plain box inside. At first I am not sure what I am looking at. It is a fluorescent pink pouch of some sort, maybe silk, or spandex, with a little pink drawstring fastening it closed. There are a couple of loops woven into the mouth of the bag, and it seems to be elasticated, both at its opening edge and throughout the fabric. There is something inside it, which, once I have loosened the drawstring, I find is a small padlock, the sort of lock one might use to fasten a suitcase. It’s a strange present. But her more urgent hand movements on my cock distract me, and I am more interested in what Tara is doing to me, than her gift. Involuntarily, my legs have opened wide, and my hips thrust rhythmically into her fingers. I am struggling to stay focussed.
'You won't be needing this any more.' she says, suddenly releasing her grip on my cock. She empties the bottle of chilled water she is holding into my groin. The sensation is immediate and powerful - I almost jump out of the seat. She laughs at my reaction.
'Give me that.' she says, and roughly takes the pouch and the lock from me. ‘Sit still.’
Suddenly, I realise what it is all about.
'Put your hands behind your head.'
My erection has vanished under the chill of the water, and Tara swiftly pulls the pouch onto my ever-shrinking penis. It's a tight fit, but the lotion she has been applying these past few minutes helps her, and she manages to fold and squeeze and then slide my dick and balls into the pouch in moments, and tightens the drawstring around the base of my member. Now the padlock and the loops make sense. In a few seconds, she has me firmly under lock and key. Looking down at myself I am struck by how small the pouch makes me look. The stretchy fabric compresses me into the smallest possible volume. My manhood is packed away into a space that looks laughably small. I can't believe how pink the little pouch looks against my skin, and how exposed it leaves me, whilst at the same time fully covering the parts of me which would be most likely to cause offence to any passers-by.
'You know Longhaven, don't you?' she asks.
Longhaven is the next seaside village, some six miles up the beach.
'Yes.' I reply.
'Get out. Start walking. When you get to the stream, stand and wait for me. I'll come for you. Do exactly as I have told you. And don’t go in the water. I’ll be very annoyed if I find out you have been swimming. And I will find out. You know that, don’t you?’
At the moment, swimming is the last thing I have on my mind. All I feel right now is a rising sense of panic at what she is telling me to do, but I have to do as she says. I have to follow her command. It’s what I do to be near her. The possibility that she might leave me were I to refuse is just too frightening for me even to consider ever saying ‘No’. I will do this for her, as I do everything else she asks of me.
In my mind's eye, I can see the stream - it runs through the fields into the sea, about three quarters of the way between here and Longhaven. I could walk it in under an hour. It's quiet - no-one walks there very often, it's only possible to get there on foot. This is something I can easily do, but...
'Go!' she says, and opens the car door. 'Get out, while it’s quiet.'
I step out, using the car door to shield me from anyone who might see me. I am not at all sure about this. I feel my anxiety level soaring. My heart is beating like it's going to explode. I don't know what to do, although it is clear to me what I must do.
I manage a slightly hoarse 'Please...'
'Get on with it!' she tells me. 'I'm going now.' She starts the car.
I momentarily consider offering her something else, something of myself, something more intimate and valuable which she might accept instead of this. But the very idea is ridiculous. She can take anything she wants of me, whenever she likes, and we both know it
All at once I decide to go for it. There are a few people around still, but I guess that if I run out of the car park onto the beach and don't stop, even if I am seen, no-one will recognise me. And with luck, it will be quieter a few yards from here, further along the beach.
Tara snicks the car into gear. I launch into a run. Behind me, I hear the sound of screeching tyres, and her laughter carried in the wind.
I realise I have miscalculated after only a few feet. Without shoes to protect the soles of my feet, the run across the car-park is very uncomfortable. Tiny loose stones on the tarmac surface stick to the bottoms of my bare feet and dig in. And even at this time in the morning, the surface is very hot. It is too much to bear, and I end up having to stop and rub the debris off of my feet before continuing more slowly across the parking area. I am horribly aware of my arse on full view to anyone, and my exposure. Worse still, there are more people around than I at first thought. I can feel myself reddening with embarrassment as a couple of women who are out jogging run towards me, grinning. One of them grabs her friend's arm and says something to her that I don't hear, and they both burst into loud laughter. One of the women gestures at me with her little finger. I am besides myself with shame. Limping from the hard parking surface onto the beach, I find my pace further impeded by the pebbles on the beach. They are almost impossible to walk on in bare feet, let alone run across. I end up having to walk, and put on what must surely be the most unconvincing show of being entirely comfortable with the situation that this part of the world has ever seen. I can picture exactly how ridiculous I must look, and this only adds to my utter discomfort. I could cry, really I could. Everywhere I look, eyes seem to be turning to me - some in obvious amusement, some in disgust. I hobble across the pebbled beach as quickly as I am able with my head bowed. I can't stand to make eye contact.
Eventually, I leave the main part of the beach behind me, and the sniggers and cries of 'Look at him!' and 'What is he wearing?' fade into the distance. Soon, I am on my own, with only the sea birds for company and the sound of the surf in my ears. Because of the difficulties in walking on the pebbled beach, progress is slower than I thought it might be. After half an hour, I am still a very long way from the stream. And I'm beginning to regret drinking so much water.
The sun is really hot, the sky cloudless and blue. The ridiculous little pouch I have locked around my dick is chafing quite badly, and the constant squeeze of it on my balls is not pleasant at all. I try to adjust it a little, but only succeed in making it even more uncomfortable.
Another hour or so passes. The walk, in bare feet, is taking much longer than I thought it might. As I continue along the beach, the pressure in my bladder builds and builds. There's still a way to go, but I am getting desperate. I stop to see if I can escape from the pouch, but it is impossible. And anyway, even if I did manage to slip out of it, I am not convinced I would get back into it again, which would leave me totally naked, and would for certain really annoy Tara, which I know from past experience is something to avoid.
I continue walking for another twenty minutes, but finally, I can take no more, and I have to pee. I pull at the padlock hoping that maybe it will release and let me out, but it is hopeless. The pouch remains tightly clasped around me. Inevitably, I end up peeing on myself. Because the pouch completely contains me, the warm urine just soaks through the material everywhere at once and runs down my legs and onto my feet. I try spreading my legs, but it doesn't really help much. The warm liquid floods down the insides of my thighs, and drips away from my knees. For the moment though, despite my discomfort, I don't really worry - the relief of being able to pee outweighs the indignity of wetting myself.
Finally, the long flood stops. I want to go into the water to wash myself off, but I know that were Tara to discover what I had done, I would suffer for it. The little heart she drew on my leg with her lipstick makes sense now. If I went into the water, it would surely wash away, and she would know. I decide to continue, and hope that the light breeze and the sun might dry me before I get to where Tara will be waiting for me.
The beach is empty in all directions. It's strange. With no-one to see me, I feel even more naked than I did earlier in the day. It's because I have nowhere to hide, I eventually decide.
By mid-day, judging by the height of the sun, I can see the place where I need to be. Tara is already there, waiting. That isn't good. I find myself hoping she is not too angered at how late I am.
A few more minutes and I am with her. She is sitting on a rock with her legs crossed, and her bag by her feet. My eyes are drawn to her toe nails, painted perfectly in the brightest scarlet, and her legs, revealed by the side slash in her long blue silk dress.
'You're late.' she tells me. 'Come here.'
I step closer. She looks me up and down.
‘Good boy.’ She says, and then: 'You’re wet, there.’ She points at my groin. ‘What happened? - Tell me!' she demands.
'I had an accident.' I tell her. I can feel myself reddening. ‘I couldn’t help it.’
'You wet yourself.' she says back to me, wrinkling her nose. 'Like a baby. Your nice new outfit is wet - I can see it from here. How ungrateful!'
'I'm sorry.' I tell her. 'I didn’t mean to do it.'
'Dealing with you is like being around a small child sometimes' she says. 'You stink of piss. Go down to the water, and wash yourself off. Disgusting!'
I turn to walk away. She gives me some final instructions as I step towards the tide.
'Take your time.' she says. 'I want a moment to enjoy the sun without having to tell you what to do. I'll come and get you when I want you. Go to the water, wash yourself off, and stay there until I call you.'
I walk to the water's edge. The water is very cold. I splash a little onto my legs to wash the dried urine off my legs. I hear Tara shouting over the sound of the waves, and turn to look back at her.
'Go right in!' she shouts, motioning with her wrist that I should step right into the sea. I step forward, unsteadily. It's really cold. I walk in to just below my groin, and splash water onto myself before stepping further in. I look back to where Tara stands and she is still signaling to me that I need to go further in. I continue until the water is up to my waist before she is satisfied.
'Stay there!' I hear her shout. 'Wash yourself off, properly.'
Thirty minutes pass before she comes down to the water's edge and motions to me to leave the water. I am freezing to death. To my relief, I see she has the key to my pouch in her hand. As I step from the sea, my legs feel like they are someone else's. There are goosebumps on my skin, and the cruel pouch seems to have tightened further onto my penis and balls.
'Let's get you out of that.' she says. 'Hands on head.' and reaches down to unlock me. I push my hips forward to make it easier for her. I feel an intense sense of gratitude towards her. She peels the pouch away to reveal a very sorry sight. The cold, and the hours of restriction have all but erased my manhood. I can't believe how small I have gotten. The lack of pubic hair only adds to the effect. I look at myself in disgust. I have a child's penis. An acorn. It's the smallest penis I have ever seen, I am sure of it.
'Pathetic.' Tara tells me with a shake of her head, confirming my own thoughts on the subject. 'Don't touch it.' she warns me. 'You might break it.'
'We're going now.' she continues. 'Follow.'
And now, to my dismay, I notice that we are not alone. Whilst Tara has been attending to me, another woman has come to within a few feet of us. She's young - maybe twenty or so, and very pretty, pale and blonde, kind of innocent-looking, wearing a flowery cotton dress and sandals.
'Beth!' cries Tara, and rushes up to her. They hug. 'Come and meet my new boyfriend.' she tells her, and they start to walk towards me.
Instinctively, I cover myself up with my hands.
'This is Beth.' Tara says. ‘Beth, this is my boyfriend, Zak.’
'Hello, Beth.' I mutter, embarrassed, looking at the ground, unable to face her.
Beth is smiling. I can hear it in her voice. 'Sun worshipper?' she asks.
Tara is staring at me - I can feel her eyes burning into me. She nudges me with her elbow and I look up at her, and can see she is very unhappy. She frowns, and I know exactly what I have done wrong. I move my hands away from my penis, reluctantly. I don't want Beth to remember me as the man with a tiny, tiny willy, but evidently Tara has no such concern for how I appear. Now I am fully exposed to both of them.
Beth's eyes widen, and she laughs, a sort of suppressed snort really, bringing her hand up to cover her face. I can feel myself blushing furiously, and I can feel my testicles shrinking back into my body in reaction, making me look even less of a man than I already do, I am sure.
'Oh, I'm so sorry! I don’t mean to laugh...' She laughs. Tara is laughing as well.
For that moment, standing in the sun naked, being laughed at by two fully dressed women I feel certain that nothing else that might happen could ever be so humiliating.
Tara and Beth exchange pleasantries for a while. It seems that they have known each other for some years. I find myself doubting that this apparently random meeting is as accidental as it seems, but I cannot be sure. I am still staring at the ground, where I can see only the feet of the two women, who are standing very close to me. I am feeling really uncomfortable, and step back a bit.
'Where are you going?' asks Tara. I can feel them both looking at me. 'Are you leaving?' she asks.
I struggle to find my voice. 'No.' I tell her. 'I'm not going anywhere.'
'Then come back here.' she says. ‘Don’t be rude.’
I step back close to the two women again. I can smell their perfume. Their clothing rustles in the breeze. They laugh and joke together, but I have no idea what they are talking about. All I can focus on is my embarrassment. Tara puts her hand on my arse and strokes me as she talks to Beth. I am desperate for this to be over. I am beginning to warm up now, and the close proximity of the two women, and Tara's gentle touch begins to excite me. I don't really want the erection that begins to build, not now. In my head, I am still trying to overcome my shame and horror of the situation, but my cock is ignoring me. I try making a mental list of places beginning with the letter 'K' to take my mind off of the two of them, but it doesn't help. In a few moments I am in full flower so to speak, and my cock is throbbing and pointing upwards at Beth. Neither of the women seem to notice for a while, until...
'Oh!' I hear Beth say.
'What is it?' I hear Tara respond to her.
'Um... he, um...' She giggles, nervously.
Tara removes her hand from my buttocks.
'For fuck’s sake!' she says.
Then she addresses me in a hiss: 'What are you doing?'
I try to apologise, but the words just die in my throat. Right now, I would give anything not to be here.
'I'm sorry, Beth, he doesn't know how to behave in public... I'm going to have to take him home. I can't have this going on.'
‘It’s OK’ I hear Beth say ‘I’m sure he can’t help it.’
‘He knows it’s wrong. I’m not having this.’
'OK' I hear Beth reply. 'Look, I need to get going, anyway... Will I see you tonight?
'Yes, 10.00, don't be late.'
‘OK… Bye… Bye, Zak.’
‘Bye.’ says Tara. ‘See you later…’
Beth walks off down the beach. Tara is furious.
'You embarrassed me in front of my friend!' she tells me, angrily.
'I'm sorry.' I tell her. 'It just happened.'
'Lots of things just happen with you.' she replies. 'Some other things are just going to happen to you, now.' she continues. 'I'm not having you think you can just flirt with my friends in front of me like that.'
I am stung by the injustice.
'I wasn't flirting!' I protest.
'Shut up!' she says, and opens her bag, reaching into it for something.
'You're a slut and a chauvinist.' she says. 'It's about time you learned how to behave around women.' she continues.
'I've had enough of your bad behaviour. I don't think you show me enough respect!'
She puts her bag down, but in her right hand she holds a pair of cuffs. 'Turn around.' she tells me. 'Give me your arms'.
I turn, and she quickly cuffs my hands behind my back. I can hear her riffling through her bag again.
'Open your mouth.' she says, and reaches over my shoulders, inserting a red polymer ball into my mouth and fastening it tightly behind my head.
'Knees!' she instructs me. I struggle to get down, which is difficult without my hands to help me balance. I fall to the floor.
'On your knees, head on the ground! Lift your bottom! Do it! Quickly!'
I know exactly what is coming.
The first blow comes very quickly, and very hard across my buttocks. I find myself completely unprepared for it. It makes a huge slapping sound. I try to protest, but the ball-gag muffles my voice.
The paddle slaps home again. And again. I drop my backside without thinking.
'Lift it up! Now!' she hisses, and strikes me again. 'You will behave.' she says.
The paddle hits again, just as hard, but less painfully. The heat is beginning to build across my backside. Past experience tells me it will be beginning to redden. She hits again, and again.
I can feel drool on my cheek. Tara finds her rhythm and punctuates her words with more hard strikes on my rear.
'From now on...'
'You will do...'
'Exactly what you are told...'
'Exactly when I tell you to...'
'And you will especially not...'
'Flirt with my friends...'
'Or act like a slut...'
'Do you understand..?'
I nod my agreement and try to tell her I will do as she tells me. The words just come out as muffled nonsense. The paddle really stings. I can hardly bear it. My humiliation and the pain of my punishment leads to real tears, but the real pain I feel is that I have failed Tara again. All I want is for this to stop, and for Tara to love me once more.
'Beth is coming to see me tonight.' she tells me. 'I was going to invite you along, but now I’m not sure you deserve it... Get up!'
I struggle to my feet. Tara pulls her boots on, and zips them up, then unclasps and removes the gag from my mouth.
‘You need to try harder.’ She tells me quietly. ‘Why do you find it so difficult to behave? Why must you make me punish you?’
‘I’m sorry.’ I tell her.
‘Yes, I know you are.’ She tells me. ‘You always are.’
She kisses me on my forehead. ‘You are forgiven.’ she says. ‘It's all about learning. Given time, I think you will understand. Now come with me. Let’s go home.’
She turns, picks up her bag and begins walking away from the beach and up the path into the fields. I follow behind her, naked, my arms still cuffed behind my back. Now, all I am aware of is the halo of light shining in her hair, her hips swinging, and the flash of her legs as she walks. The scent of her fills my nostrils.
I am hers.
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