TW: This story features a semi-public scene. No one can explicitly see what the main characters are doing, but they are still, to an extent, being exposed to a kinky dynamic and public sexual act without their consent. If that bothers you, then you should skip this story!

Note: This story, including all names and people, is entirely fictional and not based on any real life experiences or events.

“We’re going out to dinner,” Tobias announces as his way of saying hello.

I look up from where I’m curled up with a book on the couch, eyes widening at where Tobias is standing in the doorway of our living room. He’s already impeccably dressed, wearing a black suit, a white button-down shirt, and a tie. He gives me a little smirk at the way my eyes eat him up, but frankly, he looks edible. It takes me a few seconds to even process what he told me.

“Out?” I echo, tilting my head. We don’t go out very often unless it’s a special occasion, and unless I’ve forgotten something, today is not one of those days. My husband isn’t the type of guy who goes out to dinner for fun, unless he’s planned something…

Tobias nods, then goes to grab something from the other side of the door. “You’re wearing this, baby,” he tells me and holds up a black cocktail dress. I recognise it instantly as his favourite dress of mine. It has spaghetti straps, and a deep neckline. It falls to just above mid-thigh, which in the past has given Tobias easy access whenever he wants me.

Smiling, I put away my book and walk up to grab the dress. “Thank you,” I tell him. I look up at him and find him looking at me with a satisfied, proud smile. After a kiss on the forehead, I turn around and head to the bathroom to change.

“Ah-ah,” Tobias says. I turn to face him again. “You’re changing right here, baby.” He points to the middle of the room, right in front of him.

My cheeks heat. “Yes, Sir,” I reply as I start shimmying out of my clothes. Tobias’s eyes rake over my entire body as I unbutton my jeans and start pulling them down. Next, I pull my top off, and then I go to pull on the dress, but Tobias’s deep voice stops me.

“Oh, one last thing,” he says. “You’re wearing these.” In his hands, he’s holding what can, at best, be described as a bundle of purple lace. Only when I hold them up between my hands can I tell that it’s an incredibly gorgeous, and cheeky, thong.

“What? But–“ I stutter. “I might as well wear nothing at that point!”

“Would you prefer that?” His voice becomes even deeper, sending shivers through my whole body. “I’m sure we can arrange that.” He goes to grab the scrap of lace, but I pull them back.

“No! I’ll wear them, I just…”

“Good,” Tobias interrupts. “Then it’s settled.”

I almost protest again, but keep my mouth shut. As I change my underwear, his eyes are hyper focused on the area between my legs, sending heat straight to it.

Once I’ve pulled the dress on, Tobias nods, satisfied. “You look beautiful, Ally. Go finish up, and we’ll head out in an hour.”

I smile and go to put on some makeup and do my hair.

An hour later, I approach Tobias where he’s waiting by the door, sitting on a small, cushioned bench. The smile he gives me is one of pure joy. “Come here,” he whispers. I go to stand between his spread legs, and his hands grab mine. “Remember your safeword tonight.”

I frown, confused why I’d need that for a simple night out.

Tobias must see the confusion on my face. “Don’t worry, angel. We’re not doing anything we haven’t already talked about before.” We’ve talked about a lot, so my imagination is running wild. He knows it, too, considering the little smirk on his face. If he wasn’t keeping them in his hold, I’d definitely be nervously wringing my hands right now.

Even so, I know I’m safe with him, so I obediently reply, “Yes, Sir. It’s ‘red’.”

“Such a good girl,” he says in a low voice, then leans forward to kiss my stomach through my dress. I hum at the soft contact.

“Sit down, Ally,” he tells me as he gets up, and I take his place on the bench. He gets down on one knee beneath me and picks up one of my bare feet, then grabs a pair of high heels.

Slowly, he pulls the shoe onto my foot, his thumbs rubbing my ankle right as he goes to buckle the small ankle strap. I let out a barely audible gasp when he kisses my foot, right below the strap.

He repeats the process on the other foot, lovingly rubbing it and kissing it as he puts it in the other shoe. Once satisfied, he gets up and extends a hand to me, which I take and use to stand up. “There’s one more thing, before we head out,” he whispers into my ear. His hands are busy grabbing something from behind me, so I can’t see what it is.

But I feel it, shortly after, as a thin, metal collar is placed around my neck. I gasp when he buckles it in the front. He catches the motion and moves his hand up to my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing my lip.

“That stays on all night, princess. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I breathe. The softness, the tenderness with which he’s making me submit, pushes me deep into sub-space. It feels way more effective, and better, than having him force me to dive headfirst into submission. The way he gently looped the collar around my neck, the way he gently kisses me now as I’ve willingly submitted to him, makes me just want to hold his hand as he takes the lead.

“Good girl,” he breathes into my mouth, right as his tongue slides against mine for a quick, teasing moment. “Come on, let’s go.”

Before we leave the door, I catch sight of how I look in the mirror. I look flushed, the pink tint in my cheeks matching the tint of the rose-gold collar around my neck. It’s barely noticeable and would probably pass as a choker to anyone who looks closer.

To me, though, to us, it symbolizes my willing submission to my husband. That thought gives me a proud smile, and I place my hand on his arm as we head to the car.

If there isn’t a porn site purely depicting men behind the wheel, someone should definitely get on that idea.

Every time he uses the gear shift, or even just turns the wheel, I get flutters in my stomach. And when he grabs the back of my headrest to look behind us? I’m a goner.

His hand has been on my thigh, holding me in a firm, possessive grip, whenever he’s not doing something else with it. And either my mind is playing tricks on me, or his hand is sneaking higher and higher up my leg, getting dangerously close to edging under the hem of my dress.

Right as we pull into the restaurant, he briefly abandons all pretences, and sticks his hand fully beneath my dress. I buck at the sensation, but his hand almost immediately leaves me, making me groan.

He chuckles at my annoyed noise. “Aww, someone looks a little frustrated.”

“Not at all,” I say with fake enthusiasm. I totally am.

The smile he gives me is nearly panty-melting, and he exits the car. I’m about to follow, but he practically runs to the other side of the car, opening the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing his hand. Our fingers lace together as we begin walking into the restaurant.

It’s a gorgeous place. It’s dimly lit throughout, except for the open kitchen against one wall. Candles litter each table in the large room, with folded napkins on either side of them. The people are equally beautiful. Everyone is dressed similarly to us, and I hungrily eye up all the beautiful dresses the women are wearing.

A waitress, dressed in black slacks and a black blazer, walks up to the computer by the door. “Table for two?” she asks.

“We have a booking,” Tobias replies. “Mr Pierce.”

After a few taps on the screen, the waitress goes to grab two menus for us. “If you could follow me, Mr and Mrs Pierce.” Even years after marrying the man, it still makes my heart flutter in the best way to be called Mrs Pierce.

Tobias places a hand on my lower back as we follow the waitress to our table. I frown a little at how we’re being led to a dark corner of the room, giving us plenty of privacy for god knows what. He catches my expression, and just gives me a little smirk in response.

After we order drinks and food, we fall into some easy conversation about upcoming plans. We’ve been wanting to go to Greece for years, after thoroughly enjoying it for our honeymoon. Back then, we went to one of the smaller Aegean Islands, and now we’re debating which larger city we should go to next.

“Athens,” I insist in a firm tone.

“Thessaloniki,” Tobias retorts.

We’ve been having this debate for months at this point, and neither of us is getting anywhere close to budging. It’s a friendly debate, and we’re probably going to do both eventually anyway, but we can’t decide which one we should do first.

“Athens is bigger, babe. And way cooler.” My arguments are childish, and I don’t care.

“So, bigger is better, huh?”

I snort. “In this case, yes!”

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my thigh. I go to look down, but Tobias keeps talking. “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this, anyway. We’re probably going to yours after we do mine.”

His hand plays with the hem of my dress. “Right, but we should do mine first.”

“No way!” I feel his long fingers graze my clit, and I gasp. With everything happening under the table, in a dimly lit corner of the restaurant, no one can see what’s happening. That doesn’t mean this doesn’t feel dirty as hell, though.

“You know how stu–“ I falter as he starts rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Ah– stubborn I am.”

He chuckles. “You sure are.”

Just then, a waiter appears with our food, but Tobias doesn’t stop torturing me under the table. I’m gritting my teeth, trying to keep from making any noise, as a hot bowl of soup appears in front of me.

“Th–thank you,” I force out. If the waiter can tell what’s happening under the table, he doesn’t show.

He leaves, and the teasing continues. Tobias leans over to whisper into my ear, “God, Ally, you’re drenched.”

I glare at him. He says it like it’s my fault.

With one hand grabbing his fork, and the other soaking my panties, he begins eating. I try to eat, too, but his rubbing becomes faster any time I go to eat. Soon, I’m grabbing his arm and gasping, barely containing myself on him.

When I let out a tiny moan, his hand suddenly leaves, and I level him with a glare and a groan. “What the hell, Tobias?”

He wipes his hands on the napkin, then points to my soup. “You need to eat.” He says it so casually, like he wasn’t just driving me to orgasm.

Begrudgingly, I go to eat, now with an annoying pulsing between my legs.

After a few minutes, Tobias again places a hand on my thigh, and I look at him with a warning in my eyes. “Tobias…” I groan.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks.

I ignore him, instead returning to my food.

“Take off your panties, Ally.”

My eyes snap to his. “What?”

“You heard me,” he continues with an eerily calm voice. “Go to the bathroom, take your little thong off, and come back and give it to me.”

I sputter, staring at him wide-eyed. The idea of doing that, here feels so dirty. “I can’t do that, Tobias.”

His mouth comes close to my ear, nipping it a little, before he whispers, “You don’t wanna be bad for me, do you?” His breath fans the side of my face, giving me shivers. “You wanna be a good girl for me, right?”

I almost glare at him again, but the way he says that, the way he coaxes me into obeying with gentle encouragement. It does something to me, compelling me to obey his every word. “Fine,” I grit out.

The hand on my thigh tightens in warning, and I gasp. “Wrong answer, little girl.”

“Yes, Sir,” I breathe, just loud enough for him to hear.

“That’s a good girl.” He releases me, going back to his food like this is a perfectly normal dinner, and I slowly rise.

After stuttering my request to a waiter, he points me to the bathroom, and that’s where I find myself now. I go into a stall, locking it and testing the lock to make sure no one can get in. I look around the small space, like I might find someone looking at what I’m about to do. Obviously finding nothing, I hurriedly pull off the tiny scrap of purple lace, holding it tightly in my fist.

In a way, it’s a good thing he had me wear something so small, so it can neatly fit in my fist. But that’s little consolation when I feel open air hitting me between my legs, reminding me of how wet I’ve become from this whole ordeal.

I hurry out of the bathroom like I’ve just left a bomb there. Two girls by the sink look at me strangely, seeing that I’m leaving without washing my hands, but I don’t care.

Once back at the table, Tobias holds his hand out expectantly. The bastard isn’t even hiding his hand, just holding it up in full view the entire restaurant. I go to give him the panties under the table, but he won’t take it.

“Give it here,” he says, shaking the hand he’s holding up.

I look around. People can see us if they look over, but not many, and what they can see looks limited. It’s so dark over here that I can barely see the food in front of us. The thought gives me the encouragement to quickly place the lace in his hand, like it’s a hot potato.

To my horror, he doesn’t put it in his pocket right away, instead, he brings it to his nose. I gasp as he inhales deeply, and a masculine groan escapes his throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, right as he finally places it in his pocket. He turns to me. “Such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” he praises, making me all warm. “Baring your pussy like the slut you are.” His fingers return to my core under the table, this time pushing two in.

I let out a surprised moan, and he gives me a look of warning. I zip my lips, but his fingers seem set on pushing more and more sounds out of me. His palm pushes against my clit, making the sensations even more intense.

“Oh, god,” I groan.

“Be quiet, Ally.” Tobias is still eating his food, all while making me squirm next to him.

Every time I bend my neck, either to check if anyone is looking or to kick my head back in ecstasy, the metal collar around my neck digs into my skin. It stings in the best way, reminding me that the man with his fingers inside me owns me, and owns my pleasure.

I especially feel that when he pulls away, right as I feel my orgasm approaching. “Tobias!” I exclaim, and a few curious eyes glance out way at my loud tone. I shrink into my seat a little bit.

Tobias snickers at me. “Maybe if you’d be quiet, I’d let you come,” he says in an incredibly seductive tone.

“I can be quiet,” I promise, though I don’t know if I can keep it.

“Oh, I don’t believe you, little girl.”

“Please, Sir,” I whisper. “I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet.”

“We’ll see.” Then, his fingers dip into me again. I grit my teeth in an effort to be quiet, but he’s relentless. It’s like he’s trying to make me break my promise, and he’s doing a damn good job of it.

He hooks his fingers up inside me, hitting my G-spot, and I buck a little, but still manage to remain quiet. The half-eaten soup in front of me has gone cold, but it’s far from my mind at this point, especially when his thumb starts flicking my clit.

“Remember to ask for permission to come like a good girl, princess,” Tobias reminds me through the fog in my head. The confirmation that he’s going to make me come here, in a public restaurant, terrifies me. But shamefully, it also makes me impossibly more turned on.

He moves faster, and soon, the tingles of an orgasm forming make themselves known. I buck a little, urging his fingers deeper, harder, just as I remember to ask first. “Fuck,” I breathe. “Sir, can I please come?”

“Do you think you deserve it?” he deadpans. What the fuck?

“Yes, Sir, please.” I’m a minute away from getting on my knees and begging him for it. “Oh, god, fuck.”

He rubs faster, and I clench around his digits. “You can come,” he says, and I unleash.

I try my best to stay quiet, but a few silent groans slip past my lips. I buck at him as subtly as I can as he wrings the orgasm from me. The pleasure flooding my system quickly subsides when his hand pulls away, and he cleans it off on a napkin.

God, that poor waiter, having to pick that up.

I pant heavily, glaring at him. He grabs my waist, pulling me close to his side, as he whispers into my ear, “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, especially with how you stayed quiet. But your torment isn’t over yet.”

My eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“You’re going to have to wait to see until we’re home, baby. I have plans for you.”

I refrain from asking, knowing he won’t tell me. Instead, I nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Come on, I got the check while you were in the bathroom. Let’s go.”

His hand finds my lower back again as he leads me back out to the car, moisture running down my thighs. My thoughts run wild, imagining all the things he’s doing to do to me when we get home. I’m buzzing with energy, tempted to climb him like a tree, but I refrain myself, desperately wanting to find out one thing…

What does he have planned for me?

This one felt really good to write, and I hope anyone who reads this feels the same way about reading it!💜 If you have any comments, please don't hesitate to write!💜💜💜