The sensation of my naked body being fully on display for all passers-by was quite new; the previous evening and earlier in the foyer I had been blind-folded, but now I could see people looking at me and I became quite embarrassed! Some stared openly, some grinned with great amusement at my discomfiture, but others hardly spared a glance at my nudity. Strangely, I was most upset by these casual looks, as if my body (stripped and on display at least partly against my will) was just part of the scenery and of no interest at all. I found myself almost involuntarily covering my cock and balls with my hands and keeping my eyes on the ground.

When my Mistress noticed this, she said sharply, "Stop that! Hands behind your back, please! You don't need to be ashamed of your body, slave." I obeyed (she had trained me well) but my reaction and her rebuke were repeated several times, and more than once I asked her to take me back to our hotel room. Not wanting to attract more attention to myself, I kept my voice low, but she chose to ignore me at first.

"All right," she said in a tone of exasperation after about an hour, "we'll go back to the room, but you might be sorry. I'm very disappointed in you!" We walked back quickly and in silence -- I was rehearsing what to say to her. I didn't want to use our 'opt-out' clause, but I was sure I could persuade her to keep our B&D activities private or in small groups of people.

I was wrong; she didn't even give me a chance to say what I'd been rehearsing! We had hardly crossed the threshold of our room before she had my wrists handcuffed behind me; and when I started to speak she snapped, "Not now! First I want you in a suitable pose!" Very soon she had me bent over the back of a chair with my ankles spread and my arms pulled up to a hook in the ceiling; then "Open up!" she ordered as she placed a large gag against my lips. Knowing she could force it in by pinching my nose, I obeyed and she went on "Good boy -- I don't want you to interrupt while I give you a little lecture. Later you'll have a chance to say what you want to say.

"Now," she continued when she had me fixed to her satisfaction, "I'm going to make four points, most of which you agreed to a long time ago ... and to help you remember I'll give you five strokes with a riding crop for each one. They'll also serve as punishment for your behaviour just now.

"First -- you agreed to be a humble obedient slave during the whole of what we call a 'session', and only afterwards would you complain of mistreatment or take the choice to opt out. I have decided (if it wasn't clear by what I said earlier) that this whole holiday is to be one 'session' ... which I don't think is unreasonable so long as I keep my side of our agreement." Here she paused --and I winced at the pain of five strokes of her crop across my upturned bum, delivered with (I thought) a little more energy than usual!

"Second," she continued, "I agreed not to injure you or even to take you past the threshhold at which discipline becomes real pain for you ... except, you may remember, by a small margin for purposes of punishment -- like NOW!" (The stroke that coincided with the last word certainly met that criterion, as did the four following, drawing grunts of pain through my gag.) .".. and you can't accuse me of breaking that agreement on this holiday."

After a moment she went on: "Third -- I promised not to expose you to situations where a charge of indecent behaviour might result. Perhaps it's this that's bothering you, in these unusual surroundings ... but I promise you, this ... is ... no ... problem ... here!" She punctuated the last five words with stinging blows of the crop across the backs of my thighs.

"Worst of all," now there was a note of real anger in her voice, "you made me look ridiculous today. After your behaviour with Mistress Anne I thought I could be proud of you, and of myself as a Mistress, in this community where Bondage and Slavery are taken for granted ... but you let me down, and that is UN-FOR-GIVE-A-BLE!" Once again the crop laced my bum and thighs in time with each syllable, as hard as any she had ever given me, if not harder.

Her tone changed to one of sadness. "One more thing: after all this time as my slave, I really thought you could trust me more and know that I wouldn't spring surprises unless I'm certain... no, no more strokes for this" (she must have noticed me tensing in expectation) .".. unless I'm certain that you'll enjoy this holiday if you give yourself a chance." Her hand slipped between my legs and fondled my cock, and she chuckled (with a definite undertone of "I told you so"!) when she found it almost hard ... as usual!