This is my entry for the 'In a Sunburned Country' event.
It's half BDSM and half exhibitionism, with maybe other things thrown in as well. I flipped a coin and here is is in BDSM.
It is intended to be an awaking story, a sensual story, an erotic story, but please be aware it's mainly about buildup; there is not a lot of fast-and-furious sex in it. That may follow in another tale, but not yet. If that's what you want or need, there are lots of good alternatives around.
Have fun either way!
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After breakfast, I took a long shower.
Afterwards, my heart already beating, I sat down at my dressing table. Looking at my image in the mirror, I wasn't sure if I should be pleased, disturbed, amused or what. I knew that in any case I was pretty excited about the day. My inner Zoe was turning cartwheels in her excitement.
When it comes to makeup, I generally go with the less-is-more philosophy. Today, I definitely wanted better than that. I took my time; there was no hard-and-fast timetable. I wanted 'seductive but not slutty', 'daring but possibly submissive'. It took me a couple of tries but I think I got it.
Finished, I moved on to my hair.
I'd been to my stylist the night before. I'd pressed her to cut it short, far shorter than I was used to. She had asked me if I was sure and I'd grinned at her, invented a cute bloke I wanted to impress and told her to go for short, sexy and sassy. She had hit the nail right on the head.
A kind of a raggedy bob with an uneven fringe gave me a lot of flexibility and yet, to my eyes, looked really sophisticated, really hot. It took my creamy blonde hair and, seen in the salon mirror for the first time yesterday, made both it and me look amazing.
It was also easy to recreate and maintain; a few minutes with brush and comb brought it right back. I licked my lips, smiled at my new image. Mirror Zoe smiled back. I thought she looked pretty good!
Turning away from the mirror, I picked up an unmarked bag from a shopping trip earlier in the week. According to the net, 'Kay's' was the leading sex shop in Melbourne, their stock sophisticated rather than skanky.
The rope in my hands was soft nylon, 5mm thick. I thought its scarlet colour looked remarkably good against my skin.
There had also been silk cord for sale at the store - darker, almost wine-red in colour and so soft it felt like it would fall through flesh without pressure, leaving behind no mark and no damage. Sadly, my purse had begun to shudder and moan every time my fingers even went near it. And, although natural fibre was more traditional, I wanted something softer, at least to start. Nylon it would be.
For years, almost since I had entered puberty, the thought of what I was about to do today had been at the forefront of my fantasies. I'd read every book, every article I could find on bondage and exhibitionism. There weren't many, of course, at least not at first. The local library was hopeless and my parents kept the internet pretty-well locked down for their kids. Even when they bought me my first smartphone, parental controls were welded in place.
Things improved overnight when I got my first job and could afford an unlimited phone of my own. And it my 'over-nights' became much, much more fun, let me tell you. A new world had opened for me.
So I'd been 'getting ready' for a long time. I guess you could say I was like somebody who's dreamed their whole life about Scuba diving and who's bought all the gear and who's spent hours polishing it and touching it and reading about diving and had a shelf of books - but had never actually gone diving.
Yeah, that's me.
But today was - if I could keep my nerve - The Day.
The shibari pattern I'd settled on was a simple tortoiseshell. I picked up the rope and folded it in half. Near the top end, I tied a series of simple overhand knots the length of my hand apart. The loop created by the first knot was large enough to slide over my head; once that was done and the rope allowed to fall down my front, the remaining knots were spaced evenly down my chest and stomach.
I passed the two free ends between my legs and up my back before threading it through the loop at the nape of my neck. Passing a length down and under each arm, I brought the ends through the second loop in front of me, between the first and second knots. Then back to the ropes over my spine, the forward again. And back. And forth.
Eventually, the ends of the line were tied off after several ties around my upper thighs, much like old-fashioned garters. Looking at the mirror, I was struck by the bold pattern of diamonds overlying my torso. Although a large knot was commonly positioned over the subject's clitoris, I had other plans for today. Reaching down, I shifted the two cords to rest outside my labia.
Looking at my image, I shifted my breasts so that they protruded more fully between the cords. My nipples were already hard and I caressed them gently. Already I felt a welcome tautness in my groin, a promise of... what?
I wasn't entirely sure, but was eager to explore.
Standing back before the mirror, I turned this way and that, admiring the effect, running my hands gently over my bewebbed body, gently pinching my nipples.
I twisted my hips and felt the ropes around my body twist and shift, an improvised but most elegant sleeveless straightjacket, constraining not movement, but what - modesty? mood? Here and there, my skin was gently caught between adjoining cords. It was an incredibly erotic feeling. I felt my nipples harden still more and, for the first time, a wetness between my legs.
I went over to my jewellery box and took out a treasured keepsake, a short necklace once owned by my grandmother and given to me by my mother when Gran died. At the time, its design had meant nothing to me; the chain of sterling fingernail-size triskelions had been nothing more than artistic spirals - a Celtic design, perhaps?
It wasn't until much later that I'd read of the symbol's link to, shall we say, an alternate culture. By then, Gran and Popsy were long beyond my ability to ask.
Gran?
Could it be...?
I doubt I'll ever know. One thing is certain, though - I won't be asking Mummy Dearest.
I settled it around my neck, fastened the clasp. The polished silver stood out nicely against my tan. I hadn't initially known what the triskelion design represented, but out on the streets, who knows who might see it? It could be my entrée into another new world.
I tingled at the potential.
Reaching again into the shop bag, I pulled out a tiny box with another treasure, this one definitely new. I removed two flat clips of sterling-silver wire, much the same as paper-clips. Lacking the second loop, they nonetheless clipped firmly on my nipples, stimulating them and keeping them stiff. At the same time, they laid quite flat against my boobs, meaning I could wear a thin dress braless and not have them visible.
I skipped knickers and bra. That was the whole point of the exercise.
It should have been a miniskirt, right? I had one ready, but on putting it on, the thigh ropes were well below the hem. I thought of changing the rope pattern, but I'd put too much trouble into it, felt too committed to it. It was elegant in its beauty and made me feel the same. No, I would have to skip the miniskirt.
I settled for a red knee-length red circular skirt. It was a bit formal, but would work for dressy casual. A plain white leather belt emphasized the narrowness of my waist.
I hesitated while choosing a top. If I'd had more confidence, I'd have gone with a plain white blouse, something thin enough to show my braless state to better advantage. I decided that would have to wait until I had a bit more confidence and settled for a short-sleeved, form-fitted black blouse with a red polka dot pattern. Add to them a pair of black (OK, super dark blue) ankle-strap heels and I figured I had a winning combination.
I had one last thing to do.
It could have been vibrating panties. It could have been a small bullet. It could've been an old-fashioned egg. Instead, I reached into a drawer for the final purchase, a 'new-fashioned' vibrator, rather like an egg but far more sophisticated. It had no less than 12 settings and its batteries would run for over two hours. A small extension or finger would rest on top of my clitoris when the thing was fully inserted.
I thought it would suit my purpose nicely today. I'd already washed it carefully and ensured it had a full charge. I set it for a random vibration pattern.
