Exposure

Discussion in 'Member fiction' started by mikecb, Feb 12, 2009.

  1. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    OK gang, this one's a little weird. John and Allyson, from The Willing Prisoner, won't get out of my head. I had to write this. They seem to have a life of their own now. I don't know if anyone in the world other than me would enjoy this story, but it fits between the first, and a third that is already growing in my mind. I can't do the third story, without first writing the second. Enjoy, if this works for ya! ;-p
    ---

    Exposure

    <Part 1>

    I awoke with a start. I could tell by the sun that it was fairly late in the morning. I was disoriented for a moment, until it all came back to me. It was Monday. Mistress and I had both called in sick, after our long and very cathartic weekend. My elbows and knees were still bandaged. Mistress had taken good care of me, after releasing me from the cage, after some 51 hours. The hours she spent caring for me, late last night, seemed like a dream, now.

    I rolled over to find she was not in bed. Startled, I jumped up to perform my usual duties, including fixing breakfast. Mistress had dressed me in warm clothes, last night, to ward off the chill of all those hours in the basement cage. I felt better now, so stripped and put on my “uniform”. I donned my collar, and manacles on my wrists and ankles. My neosteel belt was still locked firmly in place.

    I quickly attended to my own morning necessities, and went downstairs to find Mistress. She was in her studio, reading something on her computer. She assured that I was feeling well and able to fix breakfast. With a peck on the cheek, she sent me to the kitchen. She seemed a little distant, but I didn’t make too much of it. My own mind was still reeling from the weekend’s events.

    As an Anniversary gift, I had given up my safeword for all time. Mistress now owned me body and soul. By the end of the weekend’s torturous events, she had also helped me to realize I desperately craved two things. I fantasized about being locked in chastity, without hope of orgasm, and I desperately wished to be cuckholded. I could not admit those things to myself, or Mistress, before this past weekend. Her ingenious use of the cage helped me clarify my own desires, and set aside my fears. I love her SO much for that!

    I began fixing breakfast. I assumed Mistress would go for her usual run, today, even though she was taking the work day off. I made sure to prepare a meal high in healthy carbs to fuel her workout. Mistress is very serious about her exercise, and her health. Heavy carbs on Monday, Wednesday, Friday for cardio. Heavy protein in meals on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, when she goes to the gym to pump serious iron. It still amazes me that she eats WAY more food that I do, and yet is skinny as a rail.

    Mistress came to the dining room for her breakfast. She ate quietly, as I ate from my plate on the floor beside her. My knees did hurt more than usual, since they were still bandaged from being rubbed raw in the cage. Mistress looked down at me, pointed to the other chair at the table and said “Sit”. I was both relieved, and concerned. My knees appreciated the break, but the look on her face told me something was on her mind. I was hoping she didn’t have regrets from the previous weekend. I had none.

    “Slave,” she said. “In all the excitement of the weekend, I never got to give you YOUR anniversary gift.” I expected her to be smiling, as most anyone would when preparing to give a gift. Instead, she looked agitated. She got up, opened one of the china cabinets, and removed a wrapped gift. She tossed it on the table in front of me, almost angrily. I was totally stunned by her mood. What did I do wrong? “Mis…, “ I began.

    “It’s some game cartridges,” she said with a sigh. She paced by the table. “It’s not enough.” She drew a deep breath, and let it out. Drew another. Mistress never had trouble speaking her mind. This was quite beyond my experience. “Mistress, it’s wonderful. You know how I love to play on …”

    “No!” she barked. I stopped talking, stunned.

    She drew a deep breath, standing beside me at the dining room table. Her words came out in a jumble. “You gave me your safeword! Your trust! It’s the most beautiful gift you could ever give me… You finally allowed yourself to face your darkest fantasies… the scary ones! You’re going to let me fuck some other man, for Christ’s sake…. And I give you forty bucks worth of fucking game cartridges?!?” She picked up the wrapped box, and threw it against the wall. I flinched, but otherwise sat still. I had NEVER seen her this agitated. “Mis.., “ I began. “Shut the HELL UP!” she barked. I sat mortified. She had never yelled at me like this… like she was angry.

    She stopped then, realizing she had lost her temper. “Sorry,” she said, more gently. “Please, just don’t interrupt. If I say this, I’m going to do it… but it’s really fucking hard for me to say. Please… just let me get it out. I’ve never lied to you, and I’ve NEVER broken a promise. I’m about to make one.. A really..,” she gulped, “a really..”, she gulped again. Her eyes grew large as saucers. She slapped her hand over her mouth, and bolted from the room. Before I could even get out of my chair, I heard her retching in the bathroom. What the hell?!?

    I found Mistress vomiting in the toilet. I went to her. “Out! She screamed. “Ally, what?? …” She was still angry. “Out! Just give me a minute…. Wait in the dining room. I’m going to fucking DO this! OUT!”

    I shambled back to the dining room, shell shocked. I had no idea what she wanted to do, but she seemed completely irrational. I’d never seen her like this in her life. Hell, we’ve never even had a fight. I didn’t >think< we were fighting now. If we were, I wished I understood about what?!? I DID know that if this was what a fight with your Wife felt like, I never wanted to have one again! I was miserable and helpless.

    I sat in the dining room. She retched again, and I heard her pounding on the toilet. “Get the FUCK out of here! I BEAT you. There’s no fucking WAY you’re doing this to me!”

    She wasn’t addressing me. Oh my god. Something clicked into place in my mind. Mistress had been anorexic as a teen. She nearly died of it. She described battling her disease as “fighting the monster”. She told me, once, how she used to fly into rages and scream at the monster in her head - her eating disorder. Was she fighting her eating disorder again? I was EXTREMELY concerned and confused. Was she becoming bulimic again? I felt even more helpless. She nearly died of her eating disorder. I had no idea how to help her.

    Mistress came back into the dining room, ashen. She wiped her face with a towel. Before I could ask, she said gently, “When I was sick… you know, when I was a kid… When I was trying to fight my disease, sometimes it made me throw up. It’s almost as if it was trying to prevent me from doing what I needed to do… what I was afraid to do.”

    I looked at her, uncomprehending. She seemed calmer now. “Honey, you know that I’m…”, she gulped again. I worried, but did not interrupt, “.. I’m ‘self conscious’ about…DAMMIT!” she barked.

    She was fighting to say the words. I knew what she was going to say. Her teenage anorexia had caused a number of health issues for her. She could not have children, for one. When her body was at its weakest, and she was in puberty, she developed cysts that left scars messing up her ovaries. Another thing was that her breasts never really developed. She is extremely thin, though now extremely muscular. Her hormone imbalances, mixed with her compulsive exercising have made her hugely muscular, as if she were on steroids or something. She is otherwise healthy now, but her chest is really just a pair of very prominent nipples over well developed pectoral muscles. She hates and is embarrassed by her chest.

    Mistress let out an exasperated breath. “I’M SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT MY BREASTS,” she finally got out. She panted a few times, as if even saying that took the wind out of her.

    I didn’t interrupt her. I didn’t want to make it any harder for her to say whatever she was trying to get out. I saw how excruciatingly difficult this was for her.

    She began again. “You know I told you that I found the stuff you look at on the web – with the parental controls. Well, I also know about the naked pictures.”

    My stomach twisted in a knot. For a minute, I thought >I< would have to run and throw up, now.

    “Mis..”, I began, not knowing what I was going to say.

    She cut me off again. “It’s OK… it’s OK.” She drew another breath. “I know what you like, now… I really BELIEVE it now. You’ve told me a million times, but I’ve never BELIEVED you. Men don’t…. you couldn’t…. but… you DO! You really DO like women with.. with.. WITH SMALL BOOBS,” she had to fight the say words. “You really DO think I’m beautiful, don’t you? You haven’t been lying, have you?” She looked at me, anxiously.

    “Mistress, of COURSE I do! I’ve told you a thousand times. You just wouldn’t bel...”

    “… I wouldn’t believe you,” she whispered. She stood up. “OK! That’s IT!”, she barked. “You’ve trusted me with everything. I’m going to trust YOU, now.” There were tears in her eyes. “My eating disorder does not let me see my body the way other people do… the way YOU do. I can’t see ‘me’ that way. I have to trust you. I hate what I see… but I’m going to change that… for you... I’m going to learn to love my body… all of it.“

    She stood before me, ramrod straight, with her arms at her side. She was gulping for air, nearly hyperventilating. “I know one more thing, from all those stories you read on the internet….”

    I blanched. What else was there?

    “You like… like stories with girls that… who… with…. WITH EXHIBITIONISTS.”

    Oh god. I felt awful. I never meant to hurt her, reading those stories, or looking at those pictures. They just turn me on, and I knew those were things she could never, ever do. They would have to remain in the realm of fantasy for me, but I couldn’t make myself stop looking and reading. I was crushed. How she must hate me!

    Before I could try to explain myself, she spoke again. “You gave me your safeword. You trust me…. TOTALLY. You accepted that I will cuckhold you.. that I may never let you cum again! That’s…. it’s…. amazing!… I can’t give you anything less… I couldn’t live with myself. I have to give you something just as difficult… just as important to YOU… “ She began to hyperventilate again. She muttered to herself “If I SAY it, I’ll DO it.. dammit!”

    “John, I’ve been unfair to you I haven’t trusted you. I need to give this to you now, and even more. I need to fulfill some of YOUR fantasies.. the ones that are hard for ME.” She took one last deep breath. “From now on, Slave, I am going to tease you with what you want most. From now on…… I’m going to be uninhibited.. to show off…. “ Her voice was cracking, growing more quiet, but she pressed on. “For you, I’m going to be an exhibitionist.”

    With that, she did something she had never done in our five years together, including three as husband and wife. Though it was not dark, and we were not making love, she made no effort to cover up as she tore off her shirt and threw it on the floor.

    She forced her arms to her side, and stood visibly shaking. My cock swelled and tried in vain to grow hard in my Neosteel, as I looked in awe upon her magnificent tiny breasts for the first time in broad daylight.

    “We’ve got a lot to do, today….” She said.

    <end part 1>
     
  2. disciplinedpet
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    wow!

    i must say very well written. I was reading theis very intently expecting something else & then different direction. Great story looking forward to more! thanks for this helps me to occupy some time I have now I'm recovering. thank you , disciplinedpet
     
  3. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    Yes, it's really strange to have a vulnerable Domme in a chastity story, but .. well, she just had to be. It fits the whole little universe I have for them in my head. Don't worry. She's still in charge, and life is about to get VERY interesting! :manga_devil:
     
  4. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    Just for funsies, I've been trying to teach myself drawing lately. Here is my (admittedly novice) impression of what Mistress Allyson looked like at the end of Part 1. She's a bad-ass! lol

    [​IMG]

    The poor model I used for this picture had a significant breast reduction. lol. She's never been so buff, though! ;-p
     
  5. xcitex2
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    xcitex2 Back from the past!

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    Looking forward to part two and three!
     
  6. owened1
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    owened1 Junior Member

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    cant wait for the next part !!!
     
  7. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    OK, keyholders, make sure those cocks are locked up tight. Here we go!
    ----
    <Part 2>

    Mistress stood topless before me in broad daylight, for the first time in our five years together. She was shaking. Several times, her arms began to lift, to cover her tiny breasts, and I saw her grimace with determination, and lower her arms again. Yes, she has the smallest breasts I’ve ever seen, but oh my gawwd they’re beautiful to me! I’ve always had a fetish for small boobs, which is probably why I first asked her out, all those years ago. It’s always broken my heart that she’s been so self conscious about them. Her anniversary gift to me – to STOP being self conscious is perhaps the greatest and most difficult gift she’s ever given. So difficult, in fact, that she vomited a few minutes ago, terrorized by the thought of finally revealing herself to me.

    “You need to make me feel b-beautiful,” she said with effort. Her breath was short, her voice like an insecure school girl, her eyes lowered to the floor. I could tell I was witnessing an enormous challenge to her formidable will. My wife has the strongest drive and determination of anyone I’ve ever met. As a tri-athlete, and power lifter, she can drive her body harder and longer than almost anyone. I suppose she developed this enormous strength when she overcame her anorexia as a child. Still, I could see that this was a horrendous battle in her head. She was shaking more by the minute, as she held her arms at her side. She was right. She needed my help to maintain her composure and give me this gift.

    I felt our roles were so reversed right now. She seemed meek and submissive. I needed to take charge. It was bizarre, but yet I knew it was right. For the first time in many years, I addressed my wife as an equal. “Ally, come here, beautiful.” She looked up shyly, but came to me. I took her in my arms and kissed her deeply. The taste of her recent vomit filled my mouth, but I didn’t care.

    “Ooh, gross!” she said as she wiped her mouth. “I didn’t think I was THAT bad a kisser!” I replied. She chuckled. That broke the ice, a little.

    I took the initiative again “Come with me. I’ll show you how beautiful you are.” I took her by the hand, and led her to the stairs, and to the bedroom.

    I tried to get her to lay in bed, but she quickly ran into the bathroom and brushed her teeth in about a minute flat. I appreciated the effort. She came back out, shyly. I got her to lay down in the bed, and undid her jeans, pulling them off, and then her panties. She lay gloriously naked before me. I was still dressed in my normal household attire. My collar, wrist and ankle manacles, and chastity device – today it was my Neosteel. I leaned over and nuzzled and kissed her, trying to initiate something. She lay there, tensely. Several times, her arms drifted to cover her breasts, and each time I saw the look of determination in her eyes, as she moved them back to her side. Still, she was SO tense, she was like a virgin about to be ravished by a football team. She looked totally terrified.

    “You need to think of something else, Mistress. Tell me how to take your mind off it.” She looked lost and troubled, for a moment, and then made eye contact and said “Get Bob!” Bob was her nickname for her enormous silicone dildo. She named it that, for the lewd way it bobs in front of me, when I wear it in the harness around my Neosteel.

    I thought she might ask for this. She loved being fucked by this enormous silicone penis. I hopped out of bed, grabbed the harness and dildo, and started to put it on. “No!” she barked. I looked up confused. “Bring it here.”

    I handed Mistress the dildo. “The Harness too,” she snapped. She was sounding more aggressive, more herself. I handed her the harness. She quickly strapped it to herself, and the enormous dildo was now bobbing in front of her. I looked on with concern. We had been down this road a few times before. Try as I might, my ass is just too tight to accept much anything but the smallest of butt plugs. I was concerned she wanted to fuck me up the ass with this monster, which was going to be quite problematic. It turns out, that was NOT what she had in mind.

    “Slave,” she began, “Come meet Tony. He’s going to be fucking me tonight! Before we lock you in your cage, why don’t you come here and show Tony your gratitude for fucking me with his great big cock! Lord knows, you’ll never satisfy me like him!” Mistress grabbed the cock, and stroked it suggestively.

    We had role played before a few times. This was new though… Mistress made me beg to cuckhold her, this past weekend, for the first time. While it’s something I’ve come to accept that I really desire, we’ve never done it. This was new territory. I crawled into bed, between her legs, and tried to play my part.

    “Thank you, sir, for fucking my Wife and Mistress… you.. umm.. Your great big cock is just what she needs.” I knelt there, before this monsterous silicone appendage. Mistress took it in one hand, and wiggled it at me.

    “Fluff me, you little bitch. Let me show you what a REAL man looks like when he’s hard!”

    I didn’t even know how to begin. This was all new. With my wife, I would kiss and caress her womanhood. Was I supposed to kiss this thing? Do I take it in my hand? Mistress grew impatient, and grabbed my hair. “Take me in your mouth, bitch!”

    I opened my mouth, and began to put this enormous thing in. “Tony” thrust “his” hips, jamming the big cock into my throat. I gagged immediately. I pulled back a little, and tried to slide it in and out. I didn’t get very far. “Lick it, boy, like a great big lollypop!” That, I could do. I began licking the shaft, up and down, as well as the big silicone balls attached to the base of the cock. I looked up, to see Mistress staring down. I could see by the look in her eyes that she was really turned on now, her self-consciousness momentarily forgotten.

    “Slave, let me show you how to please a real man!” she exclaimed, She reached down, and detached the harness. She held it in front of me, and gestured for me to attach it. I did so as quickly as I could. Mistress pushed me on my back, and crawled over me. “Watch closely, slave. Your technique DESPERATELY needs improvement.” With that she began to lick, and nibble the giant cock, up and down, wetting it from top to bottom. My own cock, struggled in its cage, as I watched my wife give pleasure to this silicone substitute I could not feel. Finally, she adjusted her angle, opened her mouth, and slid the cock in.. and in… and in… She deep-throated this entire monstrosity. I looked down in awe, as she slid up and down the length of this huge cock! My own pre-cum began to dribble down my leg.

    “I’m sorry my slave was so lame, Tony,” she explained, “He’s locked in his cage now, watching us from that video camera,” She gestured to an empty space beside the bed. She turned to the invisible camera. “See how to fluff a REAL cock, boy! I’ll expect you to do MUCH better next time! Oh, and don’t think YOU will ever feel this, boy! You’ll never feel your puny cock in my body again!” With that, she looked over, pretending to mug to the camera, as she slid it up and down one more time. I couldn’t help but imagine myself, locked in the cage in the basement, watching this on a monitor as my Wife fucked another man in our marriage bed. My heart pounded in my chest. My imagination ran wild over what being deep throated like that must feel like!

    “Take me, now, Tony! Show my boy how a REAL man fucks!” She grabbed some lube from the bedside table, and quickly put a liberal dose on herself, and on the dildo, as I lowered it to her pussy. I entered slowly. She moaned.

    Her hands had drifted up again, covering her breasts. She hadn’t noticed. We were doing this to help her overcome her self-consciousness. I knew I had to act. “Allyson, your slave is VERY lucky to have a beautiful Mistress like you,” I said, pretending to be “Tony”. She looked up at me, as I slowly began to work the cock in and out.

    “You’re so beautiful! Would you believe some women would be self-conscious to have breasts as beautiful as yours?” I gently reached down, to her hands, and moved them to her sides. She quipped “Imagine!” but she began to look nervous again. I pushed the dildo harder, and increased the tempo. Mistresses gasped, and rode the wave of pleasure. I had her re-focused again. “Are your nipples sensitive, Allyson? Do they feel good to touch?” She looked at me startled. Again, I gave a rough thrust. “Oooh!” She moaned. “Touch those beautiful titties for me, Allyson. Make your slave there crazy!” I pointed to the non-existent camera, transmitting every bit of our activity to my fictional self, in the basement cage.

    I watched her face carefully. When she began to move her left hand to her breast, I was encouraged. “Good, good! Do it! It feels so good,” I encouraged. She grabbed her nipple, and squeezed it. I had never seen my wife play with her own boobs. She was WAY too shy. She never let me play with them either. Perhaps in the throws of passion, I might cop a feel, but she always swept my hands away. Now, she was pinching her own big nipple, hard. “Mwwooooohh,” she groaned. I trust harder as her right hand came up to her other breast. He began bucking how, as she pulled and twisted on her nipples. Her head lolled back, her eyes open but unseeing as she thrashed below me. For my part, I knew what to do. I kept thrusting that monster cock in and out until my wife screamed in ecstasy. She bucked, thrust, screamed, thrashed, and eventually grew still.

    She caught her breath, as I lay down beside her. “Goodbye, Tony, thanks for the good fuck!” she whispered. She detached the harness, and tossed it on the floor. “Come here, Slave” she said. I cuddled up next to her, laying on my side. She rested her head on my arm, laying on her back. One hand drifted to cover her breast. I took that hand in mine, and held it. “Thank you, John,” she whispered, and dozed off in my arms. My own cock, straining in my neosteel, as I glanced down my Wife’s naked body. I felt the puddle of pre-cum dribbling down my leg. Eventually, I dozed too.

    It was perhaps an hour later. I would guess 1:00pm. Allyson stirred, waking me. She lay nude in my arms. She rolled to look at me. “I have LOTS of ideas, and the day is still young. Get dressed. We’re going shopping.”

    <End Part 2>
     
  8. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    <Part 3>
    Mistress hopped out of bed, nude. I still couldn’t take my eyes off her. Somehow, she had willed herself to overcome her near debilitating shyness about her breasts. For the first time in our five years together, she was making no effort to conceal herself from me. This was truly an incredible gift to me. My cock stirred in my Neosteel, hungry for relief I knew it would not receive.

    “Before we go shopping, I want you back in your Lori. Get in the Bathroom.”

    “Yes, Mistress” I replied automatically, and padded into the bathroom. I was still clad in my normal household attire – collar, manacles on wrists and ankles, and at the moment, my Neosteel chastity belt. I stepped into the shower stall, and knelt, as was our normal routine. I heard her open the wall safe in the bedroom and retrieve keys. She then opened the cube refrigerator we keep beside the dresser, and took out the dreaded tube of ice-cold lube. She didn’t immediately enter the bathroom, but rattled around in one of the dressers for a moment. She finally entered, and I saw she was carrying handcuffs. I looked up, puzzled.

    “John, you begged me never to let you cum again, this past weekend….” My heart skipped a beat. “... Someday, I will honor that request, though perhaps not immediately. The possibility of relief has some psychological value, you know!” She grinned.

    As always, Mistress was right. The thought that I might never cum again was tantalizing, even arousing. However, I’m also realistic enough to know that without the promise of possible relief, she would lose a powerful weapon in her Topping arsenal. In some ways, it would almost be easier for me to know I would never cum again. The uncertainty would keep me on edge, and deeper under her spell.

    She continued, “However, I feel the need to assert more authority here. I don’t want you ever to touch My cock, unfettered, again.” She handed me the handcuffs. “Lock yourself to the safety bars.”

    Years ago, Mistress had me install heavy duty safety hand rails in the shower stall. They’re typically found in the bathrooms of senior citizens. They, perhaps, looked a little out of place in a home owned by a couple in their early thirties, but mundane nonetheless. They proved excellent for little things like this. I attached one handcuff to each wrist, and reached to my left and secured my arm to the bar there. With a long reach, I was able to reach the bar on my right. I clicked the cuff in place. My hands were now locked above shoulder level, and well out of reach of my groin. I grew concerned, since Mistress had never secured my Lori tube by herself before.

    Mistress took the key to the Neo, and unlocked me. My eyes were transfixed by her beautiful chest. My cock immediately sprang to attention. She set the Neo on the floor of the shower stall. “You can clean it later.” She removed the shower head, put the water on full cold, and sprayed my groin. “ahhhh… heeee hooooooo uhhhhhh”. I couldn’t help it. It was frickin’ cold! She took some soap, and carefully scrubbed my shriveled member. Of course, I grew hard again. She blasted me with cold water again, and my manhood once again wilted. The cold water knocked the wind out of me. I knelt, gasping. Mistress took the ice cold lube, spread a generous blob on her hand, and spread it on my member. It felt like she was packing me in ice! She spread a little inside the tube, and manhandled it onto my penis. “Oww.. ohh, hey! Can ya take it …. OWWW…“

    Mistress somehow managed to stuff my penis into the tube. I was SO cold, and frankly quite nervous about her manhandling. I guess that helped to keep me from swelling too much before she got it on. She knelt before me, twisting and aligning, trying to get the hole for my PA lined up with the bottom of the tube. She took hold of the pin, and lubed it. “Mistress, can’t I do…OW!! No… not there… uhhh..OW! pull … pull ….. left ….. SShheeheeeee!“ Mistress was trying to jam the pin through my PA hole, and having some difficulty. My knees had buckled, my weight hanging from the handcuffs. My eyes were watering. “owww… slow…err….Owww Ahhhhhhhhh..” I sighed with relief, as I felt the pin pass through my piercing and out my urethra.

    “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She smiled, as she wiped lube from her hands, and screwed the lock over the pin. I still hung from the bars, shivering, my breath coming in short gasps. “Y-y-yes Mistress”. She chuckled, as I exaggerated my shivering. She unlocked my arms. “Clean that up,” she ordered, pointing to my Neosteel, as she stepped out of the room. A moment later, I heard the safe door slam shut.

    I quickly cleaned the Neo, and came into the bedroom to put it in my dresser drawer. I found her rooting around in her own drawers. I couldn’t help but ogle at her naked, beautiful body. “Slave, before you dress, go downstairs and get me some of those big empty boxes… oh, and after you bring them up, perhaps you should clean the floor around your cage.”

    I had forgotten about that. I had spent some 51 hours locked in the cage over the weekend. It suffices to say that I’m glad I had the foresight to treat the concrete floor with a silicone sealer before I assembled our dungeon down there. Otherwise, I might never get the stink and stains out.

    I went down, and got some boxes for Mistress, and brought them back to the bedroom. She was sorting through clothes, and started to toss some in the boxes. I wasn’t sure what she was up to. She didn’t look up, so after a moment, I went downstairs and cleaned the mess around the cage. I mopped the floor, and sprayed some disinfectant / deodorant around. It looked good as new in no time.

    I got back to the bedroom to find Mistress still at work filling the boxes. She already seemed more at ease with herself than she had been just this morning, when she stood topless before me for the first time in broad daylight. My cock stood semi-erect as I gazed upon her. Mistress loved that she could “take my temperature” when I wear the Lori. There’s no way I can cum with it on, but it’s easy to tell what excites me.

    Mistress looked up, and chuckled as she saw my predicament. “Slave, I promised you I’d become your exhibitionist. You surfed all kinds of porn looking at women with small boobs, and braless women in tight little shirts. I know what turns you on.” I had to admit, she nailed this one! “I haven’t decided if or when I’ll ever let you cum again, but I fully intend to drive you crazy just the same!”

    With that, she held her arms behind her back, and wiggled her chest at me. The effect was instantaneous. My cock stood at attention, crushed in the narrow tube. Mistress snickered, and turned back to her boxes. I looked in. One was filled almost completely with bras, the other with some of her sweaters and blouses. I was puzzled for a moment, then realized that she must intend to get RID of these things!

    I was shocked! Though we never discussed it, I knew how she dressed every day. She wore a heavily padded bra, and usually some kind of tight fitting camisole over that, then either a baggy blouse, or a tighter one with a sweater over the top. Mistress has extremely tiny breasts, but her nipples are big and hard like marbles. They show, even through the padded bras. She has always covered herself in layers. Before I could ask…

    “Those are going to the salvation army. I don’t want the temptation in the house. I promised I would do this, and I’m doing it.” She flipped the second box closed. I stood in shock that Mistress intended to discard her bras and loose fitting clothes.

    She went to her dresser, and pulled on a somewhat tight cream colored blouse. It hugged her torso snugly, leaving little to the imagination. Her tiny breasts and prominent nipples were there for all to see. She pulled on a pair of panties, and some cotton shorts. She stepped in front of the full length mirror beside her dresser. I heard her gasp, as she looked upon herself. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, for a moment. She was struggling to hold her composure. I could sense the fear and doubt coming from her, as she saw in the mirror just how exposed she would really be if she wore this in public.

    I saw her hands tighten into fists at her side, and then relax. I knew she was once again drawing upon her formidable will. She drew one last deep breath, turned, opened her arms in a wide ‘modeling’ gesture, and asked “How do I look?”

    She didn’t need to ask. Her “thermometer” was working. My heart was pounding and my dick bobbing in front of me, announcing to the world “My Mistress is the hottest woman on the planet!” My knees were literally weak. I stammered. “M-M-Mistress, my god, you’re beautiful!” I gasped. “But, Mistress, you don’t have to…”

    “STOP!” she barked. “I made this promise, and damn it, I’m keeping it. We both know there are women who dress this way, and now I’m one of them!” I stood in silence. I couldn’t believe she intended to wear that outfit out shopping! Before today, she wouldn’t let ME see her dressed like that!

    “Now, get dressed for shopping. We have a lot of stops to make before lunch.” She turned away, and grabbed some socks from her dresser.

    I knew discussion was ended on the matter. I was stunned, and moving mechanically. I couldn’t BELIEVE she was going to do this. My cock betrayed just how hot this thought made me, though. I went into my dresser and pulled out a pair of underwear, shorts and T-shirt. It was a warm May Monday – a fine day to skip work. I put those on, then removed my manacles, and put on some socks and sneakers, as I saw Mistress putting on her sneakers as well.

    Fully dressed for a spring day, I reached up to remove the last of my household uniform - my collar. “Stop!” Mistress barked. “Who said you could take that off?”

    My jaw dropped.

    <End Part 3>
     
  9. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    Sorry this next part has been so long in coming.. Life has been "full" lately! :)
    ---
    <Part 4>
    I gaped at Mistress. “Umm.. Mistress, I thought we were going shopping. I was just taking my collar off before we go…” She interrupted. “It stays on!”

    I opened my mouth to say something, but didn’t know what to say. My mouth literally opened and closed a few times, as I tried to think of something… anything I could say to change her mind. She had apparently anticipated my reluctance, however. On our dresser was a small padlock. I didn’t see a key. It was probably in the safe already. She picked up the lock, came over, and snapped it on the collar. The padlock dangled below my throat.

    “You’ve given up your safeword, boy. You know I’ll do whatever I want …. I want the world to know that YOU belong to ME.”

    I was frustrated, even angry. Though we had lived in a D/s relationship for nearly five years, we had never “come out” about it to anyone else – not even our closest friends. My mind reeled at the notion of going out in public in a slave collar. I tried to think of excuses, or reasons why we couldn’t do this. Therein was the problem. There WAS no reason. She is a tenured college Art professor. Hell, the weirder she acts, the more “street cred” she has with her students. I’m a self-employed computer geek. I do most of my work from my home office. I support the computers for a bunch of small businesses in town, but frankly I could only think of one or two that would care how I dressed, or what I did in my personal life. Even if I lost their business, I’d still have more work than I could do.

    That just left our families. We both come from small families, and none of them live anywhere near us. Though we’re friendly with both families, we’re not in each other’s faces very much. Further, our families are both pretty progressive. They might think we’re weird, but honestly, I can’t imagine any of our few relatives doing much more than laughing about it.

    So, I stood there, with my mouth working, and no sound coming out. There were no reasonable objections. Only my fear stood in the way, and it was irrelevant. She was in charge. Finally, after a moment’s weakness, I found my strength in my Mistress’s will. “Of course, Mistress,” I said, forcing a smile.

    Her smile beamed at me. I couldn’t help but look down at her gorgeous body. Her snug blouse showed off her tiny, magnificent braless chest. The combination of her domination, and the treat of seeing her in that outfit once again caused my cock to stir. My Lori tube prevented orgasm, but it didn’t prevent the tent that was forming in my loose-fitting shorts. Mistress saw me ogling her, and looked shy for a moment – still embarrassed by her small breasts. She looked down, demurely, and noticed my predicament. It brought a smile to her face. He hand came to my crotch, and groped me through my shorts. “Thank you for making me feel pretty,” she whispered. “It’s no effort, my love,” I whispered back. She kissed me. Just a soft kiss on the lips, then she stepped away.

    “OK, grab those boxes and put them in the car. We need to get moving. I need to make a phone call while you do that.” “Yes, Mistress,” I replied, and began hauling the boxes outside. She had filled three boxes full of bras and loose fitting clothes. She had committed to becoming an exhibitionist for me. She seemed serious about it. She was getting rid of any clothing that might help her hide her small chest.

    As I made my last run out to the car, I heard her in her studio on the phone. I don’t know who she called. “… we’ll see you then!” she said cheerfully, and hung up, as I was coming by with the last box.

    “Who?...” I began to ask. “It’s a surprise!” she interrupted, enigmatically. She picked up her small purse, and walked with me to the door. I stepped outside, and turned to make sure she was going to lock up. She stood frozen in the doorway. Her eyes wide open, like a deer in headlights. She stood, squeezing her hands into fists, but wasn’t moving.

    Mistress had never gone out in public dressed like this. Her prominent nipples over her miniscule breasts poked firmly through her sheer, tight top. As much as I felt badly for her terror at stepping out the front door, I couldn’t take my eyes off her chest. I was getting hard again. Her eyes finally focused on me, and she saw I was gaping at her. She glanced down, and saw the tent in my shorts. After a moment, her face broke into a smile. “It looks like I’m not the only one poking out for this trip!” With that, she closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and exhaled. Her whole body relaxed. She stepped through the threshold, turned and locked our front door. “Let’s go,” she said, and walked to the car in the driveway. I stood in awe, once again, at my Wife’s determination. This had to be so incredibly hard for her. After a moment’s reverie, I trotted to catch up.

    “Where to, Ma’am?” I asked, as we backed out the driveway. “First stop, the Salvation Army,” she said. That was what I expected. It was right on our way. We live in farm country, on the outskirts of our small town. It probably wouldn’t exist at all, except for a few feed stores, if it wasn’t for the large State University here. Because of the college, our little town has enough business to support a commercial district. It’s really just a few blocks of stores and boutiques. We drove the 15 minutes to the near edge of town and stopped at the Salvation Army. I tossed the three boxes of clothes in the drop-box in the parking lot. I got a friendly wave from a staff person, just inside the glass front-window. I smiled and waved as I got back in the car. “What next, Mistress?” I asked. “How about lunch? Caf Indigo?” she suggested. I realized I was hungry. It was nearly 2:00pm. “Great idea!” I replied.

    I parked the car along the street, and went around to her door to open it, as was my custom. I felt like everyone in a three block radius must be staring at the shiny stainless steel collar on my neck. I tried to put the thought out of my mind, as I stood beside the car. Mistress wasn’t getting out. I looked in, to see she was having another anxious moment. I felt like an ass! Here I was worried about myself, when she was so self-conscious about stepping out in her outfit. All eyes would be on my Goddess when she stepped out. She was magnificent. No one would even know I was there. I felt so ashamed of my petty fears. I stood outside the car, looking down on her in her seat.

    I leaned down beside her ear. “You are the most beautiful Woman in this town. In a moment, everyone will know it,” I said softly. “In a moment,” she began, “everyone in this town is going to see the most freaky little tits ever!” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I saw tears welling in her eyes. “Mistress,” I said, “you made me promise to tell you what the world will really see. Your old eating disorder won’t let your eyes see the truth. Please trust me. You’re beautiful. People will stare, yes, because you’re like a love Goddess on earth, and you’re blessing them with your presence.”

    I admit it. I was laying it on pretty thick. It had the desired effect. “What a crock of shit!” she exclaimed, and burst out laughing. I shrugged my shoulders, admitting nothing. She twisted her body, and stood up beside the car. I was blocking her way, standing beside the door. “If I feel too self-conscious, I’m going to kiss you until everyone stares at your ‘tent’ instead of me!” she threatened. I laughed. “I live to serve, Mistress.”

    I took her hand, and we walked the half-block to the caf. Sure enough, passers-by were staring, not at my collar, but at my Mistress. Her hand clenched mine firmly – ouch, damn she’s strong! Her stride became more wooden, but she pressed on. We got to the caf, and were met by a waitress. She glanced at both of us. I saw her eyes pause over my collar, and of course, she took in Mistress. “We’ve got tables on the patio, or inside,” she said. Mistress paused for a moment. Ordinarily, on a nice day, she would go for the patio in an instant. I knew why she was pausing. After a moment, “Patio please,” she replied.

    The waitress led us out to the patio. It was really a roped off section of sidewalk, outside the restaurant. There were high tables, with bar-stool height chairs. I held a chair for Mistress, as she hopped in. I then seated myself. All the tables on the patio are right beside the sidewalk. As we sat there, people were passing in both directions just a few feet from our table. I noticed several people pass, rubber-necking at Mistress. It was like she was on display. She began to round her shoulders, and her arms started drifting, as if to cover herself. I wondered if I should say something, when she became aware of what she was doing. Once again, I saw her close her eyes, draw a deep breath, and exhale. She sat up in her seat, lowered her arms, and opened her eyes. I saw the glare of determination for a moment, before her eyes softened, and she looked at me. “You better appreciate this, boy!” she said, with a wicked grin. I did!

    I began to glance at the menu. Mistress said “Put that down.” I looked quizzically, but complied. The waitress came by. “Are you ready to order?” she asked. I wasn’t yet, but Mistress said “Yes. I’ll have the Fettuccini Alfredo and a glass of your house white. My husband will have the Chicken Caesar Salad and a glass of water with lemon. He needs to watch his figure. He doesn’t exercise much.”

    The Waitress snorted at that, and looked at me for a moment. She was young - probably a college kid who didn’t have classes this afternoon. Staring at my collar, “Ya, but he looks like a good boy.” She turned and grinned at Mistress. “I make sure of it!” Mistress replied with a smile. My face began to glow red as the Waitress collected the menus and walked away with our orders. That girl was probably more than 10 years younger than me, calling me a “good boy”.

    Mistress looked at me and giggled “I love when you blush. You’re going to be doing more of that from now on.” My feelings were all over the map. I felt humiliated, turned on, and at the same time, also relieved that Mistress was distracted from her own self-consciousness.

    While we waited for our food, Mistress leaned close and let me know there were going to be some changes coming. “John, from now on, I will order all your meals. You are not to talk to the servers or restaurant staff unless I give you permission. In fact, from now on, whenever we are in public, I will speak for both of us. I am in charge, and you will do nothing but reinforce that notion with anyone we speak to. Understood?”

    My heart was pounding in my chest. I was yet again humiliated and turned on simultaneously. “Yes, Mistress,” I replied demurely.

    Our lunch was delicious. The Waitress came by a few times to check on us. Mistress did all the talking. When the check came, Mistress pointed to me as the waitress went to set it down. “Pay the check, boy.” She said. I literally gasped. She had never addressed me that way in public. The waitress looked at me. I couldn’t make out her expression. Mistress glared at me. I felt her foot pressing down on my toe beneath the table. “Umm.. Yes….” Mistress glared harder. “.. Mistress.” I replied. I handed my credit card to the waitress. I noticed my hand was shaking. I couldn’t look the waitress in the eye.

    “Oh my gawwd, you’re beet red!” Mistress whispered, as the waitress stepped away. Her face was radiant, her self-consciousness seemed all but forgotten. Lucky me.

    The waitress returned with a credit card stub. She thanked us and began to step away. Mistress got her attention. “A moment, please…” she said. The waitress turned, and came back to the table smiling. “Was there something else?” she asked. Mistress said “You’ve been very … understanding .. of our circumstances. I’d just like to thank you for your patience with us.” The waitress smiled “It’s my pleasure. I love to see a man treat his Lady right.” Mistress smiled “Oh, he does. Now boy, thank the nice waitress, and be sure to give her a big tip.” Mistress looked at me, expectantly.

    I paused for a moment, searching for words. “.. Um, thank you, Ma’am for a wonderful lunch.” I looked down at my hands. My face was hot. “Oh, isn’t he cute!” said the waitress! “Have a nice day. Take good care of this Lady!” With that, she turned and walked away.

    I left her a 50% tip.

    Mistress was jubilant as we walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand. She swung our arms cheerfully and said “We have just enough time to do some quick shopping before we go see Paul and Tom.”

    My feet stopped working. “Paul and Tom?!?” I stammered.

    <end part 4>
     
  10. mikecb
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    mikecb Member

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    Hmm. This second leg of John and Allyson's story seems to have more "legs" than I originally anticipated. I had thought "exposure" would be a brief thread, before moving to the third part of their story, which was more formed in my mind . Ahh well, mustn't cut them short! Feeback always welcomed :)

    -----
    <Part 5>

    This was all happening too fast. Mistress had outed us both today. We were walking around our small town on a workday afternoon, about to go shopping. For the first time ever in public, she was wearing a very tight and nearly transparent blouse over her braless chest, showing off her deliciously tiny breasts for the whole world. Seeing her huge nipples protruding through the thin fabric was driving me insane with lust. I hadn’t cum in months, and was presently locked in my stainless steel Lori tube. While I certainly couldn’t orgasm with this tight tube on my member, I could definitely get hard… uncomfortably so! In fact, as we had been walking, I had a small tent building in my pants, just seeing Mistress walking around dressed like this in public!

    Still, it was tough to be turned on, as I was exposed too, but in a different way. Before leaving our house, Mistress had locked on my stainless steel slave’s collar. The small silver padlock dangled at the base of my throat. We had always been discrete about our D/s relationship, but this morning, Mistress decided to out us both. We were walking around in broad daylight. I might as well have had a big blinking sign over my head, flashing “Look, it’s a slave and his Mistress!” I could barely take in all the feelings going on. I was enormously turned on to see Mistress dressed so provocatively, but yet, I was totally humiliated and embarrassed to be out in public this way.

    Still, in my heart of hearts, I knew what Mistress was doing. She was extremely sensitive about her small breasts. In fact, until this morning, she had never stood fully naked before me in the light of day. Somehow, she decided, all at once, that she was going to set aside her inhibitions. She didn’t need to, but she did it as a gift to me. She said she needed to do this to feel worthy of the gift I had given her. Just a few days before, I had given up my safeword for her. She could think of no better gift than to give up her inhibitions about her breasts for me.

    So, Mistress was battling her own mental demons today. She must be terrified and extremely uncomfortable. So, she did something that makes her feel better… more in control. She dominated me more than ever before. By doing so, I think she was able to set her own fears aside as she focused on pushing my limits, hard. Of course, I had to remember that I didn’t have limits any more. I had given them all to her.

    So, here we were, downtown doing some quick shopping “before we go see Paul and Tom.” Once again, I faltered. My legs stopped working as my mind tried to wrap around the notion.

    “We’re going to see Paul and Tom…. like…. this?!?” I didn’t have to gesture to my slave collar, or her exposed chest to make my point. Paul and Tom are a couple, and also our best friends in the world. They stood as Best Man and “Maid” of Honor at our wedding. Though we’re closer to Paul and Tom than we are to our own families, we still aren’t out to them about our D/s lifestyle. My mind was reeling, even thinking about it!

    “Of course!” said Mistress, “Who else would we see first, as we make such a huge change in our lives?” Mistress paused on the sidewalk, still holding my hand. She looked at me. “Honey, this isn’t a game any more. You’re my slave, and I’m you’re Mistress. I’m not ashamed of that, and I refuse to let you be ashamed of it either! We love and trust each other, or we wouldn’t be here right now… I certainly wouldn’t be dressed like this if I wasn’t willing to set aside my biggest hang-up for you. We need to do this, and we need to do it quickly, before we lose our courage.” She turned, and started up the sidewalk, tugging me into motion. She added, “We do have a little time to kill. Tom is closing the shop early, and we’re meeting them both over there at 4:00.”

    I shambled along behind Mistress, in shock. Apparently, that phone call before we left home was to Tom & Paul. I felt my face flushing red. I was embarrassed that my best friends were about to learn the secret of our D/s relationship. I wondered how much Mistress would tell them? My cock betrayed me by getting hard in its tube, as I thought about the last secret, locked there in my pants. She wouldn’t? Would she?

    Mistress steered us to a sporting goods store, specializing in Women’s clothes. There were two male employees. I would guess one was about 20, and the other maybe 5 years older. If either noticed my slave collar, they gave it no mind. They were both too busy ogling at my Wife’s breasts, through her sheer top.

    “C-can I help you?” asked the young store clerk, as he came up and addressed Mistress’s chest. “Yes, thanks. I’m competing in a triathlon in two months. I need some better clothes to wear for training and competition. I need some shorts that I can wear for all three legs of the competition, and a sports bra. Well, a few pairs of each, really.”

    My head whipped around, and I looked at Mistress. Triathlon? Of course, she trained all the time, but she never competed! She signed up for a triathlon? Why hadn’t she told me? I mean, of course I didn’t mind, but what was this all about?!?

    The clerk paused for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard a word Mistress said, or he just couldn’t tear his eyes from her chest. I know it was distracting me too! Finally, “Oh… um, right. Over here.” He took a few steps, before finally looking away from her chest, and walking across the store. He pointed to a few displays of shorts and sports bras. “You can try things on, if you want, we just.. umm… if you try the shorts.. well.. you have to ..” he was totally flustered. Mistress helped him. “Underwear stays on?” she asked. He swallowed, relieved, and nodded. He began to blush, and turned and practically ran across the store to stand by the register. I knew the reason for his embarrassment.

    I stood closer to Mistress, intending to ask her about the triathlon. Before I could say anything, “That little shit!” she whispered. “The least he could have done is look at your collar!” She chuckled. “You boys and boobs!” She let of an exaggerated sigh. “I was hoping the collar would distract people, until I got used to this! If that kid hadn’t looked like he was about to wet himself, I may have bolted from the store!” She shook her head, but was smiling. She began sorting through shorts. Without looking at me “Do you think he liked what he saw? Or was he just looking at a flat-chested freak?” “Mistress,” I said, “you were at the wrong angle to see. He ran behind the counter because he has a major boner!” Mistress barked out a laugh, and covered her mouth.

    Smiling, I rubbed up against her, as she looked at the clothes. “Mistress,” I whispered, “why a triathlon all the sudden?” Mistress gave me an annoyed glance that made me feel like an idiot for asking. “Honey, have you ever seen me wearing only a sports bra?” I hadn’t. “That’s what the women wear in these races. I just couldn’t… you know.. I just couldn’t.” She closed her eyes, ashamed. She drew a deep breath. “Sure, I train with the girls at work, and at the gym, but I wear my usual workout clothes.” I finally got it. Mistress dressed in baggy T-shirts, and shorts when she worked out. She never wore anything revealing. All these years, she had wanted to compete, but never did because she was too embarrassed to run in a sports bra, or to be seen competing wearing different clothes from the other women. “Mistress, I’m so sorr…” She cut me off. “Don’t be, sweetie. It was my hang-up. I’ve decided I’m over it. Actually, this is another thing that’s helping me with this whole decision… to, well, to show off for you.” She paused. I waited for her to find words. “I knew this was going to be hard, but, well, I’m competitive. I couldn’t let you one-up me on your gift to me… and besides, this lets me be competitive in another way.” “The race?” I asked. “Ya. It drives me crazy that my training partners go off and win races all the time.” “Why?” I asked. She turned and looked me in the eye, seriously. “Because I can beat them! All of them.. at any event. When we train, I always win. I mean, it feels good to know I can win… but it’ll feel even better to do it!” She smiled wistfully, as she turned and made some selections.

    Mistress found some shorts, and with some effort, found some sports bras to try. She has very broad and powerful shoulders from all her weight lifting, but basically no breasts. The selection of bras that would fit around her torso, that had small enough cups was limited. Finally, she found two. We went back toward the changing rooms. Mistress walked over to a bench outside the ladies changing room, looked back over toward the counter, and got a big grin on her face. “Sit here.” She said. I sat, wondering what she was smiling about, as she casually kept looking at the counter. I saw her face change to one of determination. I wondered what was going on, but I could tell by the look on her face that I shouldn’t interrupt whatever she had in mind.

    Mistress walked into the changing room with a few selections. She stepped into a changing room, but I didn’t see the doors close. I couldn’t see into the booth, due to the angle, but a bit of quick mental geometry, and …. Oh my god! As casually as I could, I looked toward the counter. Both employees were standing stock still, gawking toward the changing room. They had a straight on view directly into the changing booth. Mistress left the door open intentionally. She was giving them a show.

    My cock grew hard in my tube, causing a tent in my shorts as I saw these men gawking at my wife. From my seated position, I was not in their direct line of sight. A moment later, Mistress came out, being careful not to look at the counter. She approached me and asked “How does this look?” She took my breath away.

    This isn’t just romantic talk. This is plain fact. My Mistress is HOT. She is lean, tall, and extremely muscular. She looks like exactly what she is - a cross between a body builder and a runner. The bulky muscles of her shoulders and arms were completely exposed by her small sports bra, as were her washboard abs. Her pale skin was accented nicely by the whites and reds of the top and shorts she had selected. Though it was designed to act as a bra, the material was unable to disguise her large and prominent nipples. She spun around, and I saw that the small tight shorts hugged her perfect bottom deliciously, while displaying her long muscular legs to perfection.

    “Never mind. I can see you like it.” She said giggling, as she looked at the tent in my crotch. She glanced around the shop, and saw just the two guys at the register. They were still gawking. She was facing me, at about a 90 degree angle to them. She stole a look over her shoulder one more time, to assure the shop was empty. “Let’s take this one.” She said. With that, she pulled off the top and tossed it to me. She turned her back to the counter, and walked topless back into the changing room, showing her muscled and beautiful back. I heard a crash at the register. I looked over to see one of the guys had just knocked over a display. They were whispering to each other frantically, with huge smiles on their faces. They both bent to pick up whatever the knocked over behind the counter, but both kept peering over the counter into the changing room.

    Mistress soon appeared, wearing a different pair of shorts, and top. The shorts looked great, but the top didn’t fit well. It fit around her torso, but the cups in the top were too big. It was baggy over her breasts. She walked out and showed it to me. My heart was still pounding, and my cock was literally bouncing in my shorts. “Too big, huh?” she asked. “I just swallowed and nodded.” She turned away from me, and faced the counter, across the store. The two guys working suddenly whipped their heads around, pretending to be busy with something else. Mistress spoke across the room “What do you think? Is this too big?”

    I ogled at my Wife. She was teasing those boys? My heart was pounding, and my cock was dripping in my shorts. This was making me SO freaking hot! I couldn’t believe this was my wife! I looked over at the counter. The guys were sputtering. “Umm, I think.. “ “yaa. Um, it’s not.. uhh”

    With a quick glance, making sure the shop was still empty, Mistress cut them off “Ya, I think it’s too big. My breasts are pretty small.” With that, she did something I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. She took off the top, and tossed it back onto the table in front of her. She raised her hands and said “Whatcha gonna do?” as she flashed her bare chest at them. She turned, and went back into the changing room. I saw the huge grin on her face, from the side.

    I was stunned. I was also hornier than I have ever been in my life. Seeing my wife topless was turning me on. Seeing her teasing those boys was putting me over the top. I was so horny my hands were shaking and my cock was throbbing. I glanced at the counter. The guys gaped for a moment, and then looked at each other. With a glance to see that my wife wasn’t looking, they high-fived each other and laughed.

    A moment later, my wife came out of the changing room in her original clothes. She gestured for me to join her, as we walked to the counter. I admit, I held her clothes in front of my own crotch, as I approached the counter, hiding my own excitement.

    The guys looked up, and suddenly looked like deer in the headlights. My wife casually put both pairs of shorts, and the one top on the counter. “We’ll take these. Pay the nice boys, slave.” I was so beyond stunned by what transpired in the last 5 minutes, I couldn’t even think. On autopilot “Yes, Mistress”. I took out my credit card. The guys looked at me, as if for the first time, as I handed over my card. Both their eyes locked on my collar. I felt more naked than Mistress had been just moments before.

    With few words, the guy who had met us at the door rung us out. My wife took the bag and handed it to me to carry. “I’m a little disappointed in the selection of sports bras,” she said. “Would you be able to order any in that might fit me better? I’d love to come back and try some others, if you have them.” “YES!”, “SURE!” they both responded, a bit too enthusiastically. They both looked at each other shocked, and a little embarrassed by their outburst. “How long before they might be in?” she asked. They guys looked at each other. The elder one spoke “We’ll order in a bunch this afternoon. They should be in by the end of the week…” He paused, thinking. “Umm. If you came by on, say, next. Umm.. Monday..” he looked at his partner. “Ya, we’ll both be working next Monday… and the store is, umm, quiet, if you wanted to.. uhh.. to try more on.” He blushed, then. The other guy bit his lip, and looked away.

    “That sounds wonderful!” said Mistress. “We’ll be back next Monday night. You close at 7:00?” They both nodded, wordlessly. “Oh, that might be a little close. We’ll have to come straight over from work. We might be a little late.” I said nothing, but knew that Mistress was just plain making that up. She’s usually home by 5:00pm on Mondays. She continued. “If we show up close to closing time, do you think you could stay open, you know, just a little longer so I can try things on? I’d really value your opinions.”

    I bit my own lip, not trying to laugh, as both clerks gushed enthusiastically, promising to stay as long as was necessary.

    With that business done, Mistress gestured for me to follow her. We stepped out of the store. Mistress was well out the door already, as it closed behind me. I heard a simultaneous “Holy shit” and “Oh my GOD!” being exclaimed from inside the store, as the door whispered shut.

    Mistress slowed down, and held out her hand, waiting for me to take it. “Boy, if we weren’t due at Tom’s shop, I’d take you home right now and devour you!” I saw the lusty look in my Wife’s eyes. My own heart was still fluttering. My face was hot, and I could feel the wet sticky pre-cum lining my underwear. “Mistress, I’m SO hot for you right now!” I whispered. She smiled. “Remember, boy. You don’t get an orgasm until I’ve fucked another man.” My heart skipped a beat. Holy shit! How had I had forgotten that promise already? My mind began to reel….

    “Let’s go see Paul and Tom,” she said simply, and started leading the way to Tom’s shop, just up the street. I shambled along behind, my head completely overloaded.

    <end Part 5>
     
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