In college, it got out that I was pretty kinky. This didn't bother me too much. Since it was absolutely true. But once that cat was out of the bag it made me a bit of a target.
A great example is one memorable night I had with Sarah, Jim, and Ethan. Sarah and Jim were a couple, and causal friends of mine who had invited me back to their place after things at the bar wound down. Ethan was their roommate, who I'd seen around a few times, but never really hung out with.
We were all having drinks around their kitchen table and generally laughing and having a good time. But Sarah kept trying to turn the conversation sexual. And not just college girl horny sexual, but really putting me on the spot with the kinkster questions. It took me longer than it should have to realize she was trying to set me up with Ethan, who must have confessed some dominant leanings to her. Though from his reaction, it didn't seem like he'd been involved with planning this sting operation.
Things came to a head when Jim, who'd crossed well over into useless drunk territory, yelled across the table at me some slurry variation of, "If you're a real sub, show us your tits!"
It was clear from Sarah's reaction that her plan had spiraled well out of control by this point. But for my point of view, it looked like an opportunity to get back at her for putting me in this awkward position in the first place. Plus, I was horny. And Jim and Ethan were both cute, despite how drunk Jim was right now.
So I just shrugged like it was no big deal, "I'm not shy. But I don't want to make anyone else uncomfortable."
"Yeah. That's over the line," Sarah said. I'd never seen someone actually speak through gritted teeth before. But I was forcing her to be the bad guy, and she was right mad about it.
I snapped my bra straps, like I'd just been about to pull it down. "So, where exactly is the line?" I asked, trying not to smirk at Jim, who was practically drooling and far to gone to think to hide it, even from his girlfriend.
"The line is nudity." Sarah drew said line in the air with a knife hand. "I live in this house with two boys. I cannot have people running around with their clothes off outside the bedrooms!"
"Or the bathroom," added Jim. Sarah ignored him.
But Ethan was harder to ignore. "I think we can work within those constraints," he said. All of a sudden he was behind my chair. Big hands on my shoulders and then, sliding across my ribs. Going for my tits. And finding them.
"Ethan, what the fuck?! You can't just do that," said Sarah.
But I wasn't complaining. If anything, I was arching encouragingly into Ethan's grip, wishing he'd slip under my bra so I could feel the tickle of his palms against my nipples. It occured to me that he was also a victim of Sarah's setup tonight. I wondered how much of this was just him trying to get a rise out of her. But I was going to enjoy it either way
"What? My clothes are on. This is family friendly programming," I teased.
Sarah took a breath. A big one. Really drew it in. And I cringed, waiting for the outburst. Maybe I could convince Ethan to walk me back to my place after she kicked me out. That would leave me ahead in points, I figured. Among other benefits.
But before she could explode, Jim leaned over and whispered something to Sarah. It didn't seem to do anything to cool her down, but it redirected her rage to him. Which I was grateful for, if also a little guilty.
Ethan's exploration of my tits slowed, and eventually stopped, as we watched the heated, whispered, exchange between Sarah and Jim. I didn't really catch what they were saying, and it probably only would have made sense if I was as drunk as Jim anyway.
In the end Sarah rounded on me. Still mad, but with something else besides. I recognized it, even if she probably didn't yet know what it was. "Alright miss. You clearly want to put on a show. Why don't you let me spank you?" She said it triumphantly, like she'd just played the winning move.
And it was a winning move. But what Sarah didn't understand was, I was okay with losing. In fact, I practically relished slipping out of Ethan's grip, onto my knees, to shuffle over and slide myself across her lap.
There where whoops and jeers from both Ethan and Jim. Sarah pointed at them sternly, "Everyone's clothes stay on," she reminded them. Then she hit me.
Laying over Sarah's lap, who was swatting me as hard as she could because she was genuinely annoyed with me, and knowing Jim and Ethan were watching the whole thing, had me tumbling into my sub persona in no time. Sarah wasn't much of a powerhouse, and my jeans did a good job as a cushion. But when she remembered her original plan and suggested I lie over Ethan's lap instead, things were very different.
