Author's note: Before you read this story, I'd just like to bend your ear for a moment. This is not a Non-consent story. It is a story about ‘reluctance'. Which means it's in the right category. It's about the reluctance of a girl to do as she's told in a D/s relationship, reluctance to face her demons and fears, and reluctance to accept her desires. As such, and because it is the premise upon which this whole story is based, this chapter, like the others, suits this category best. I tossed and turned over whether this chapter, and the next couple, should be submitted under the Exhibitionism category, and if Lit decides that that's where they should be, then so be it. In any case, it is a story about the psychology of Shannon. It is not about her abuse.
I was standing in front of the mirror shifting my weight from one foot to the other and debating whether to lift the hem of my thin, white cotton skirt with my trembling hands. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to see what I looked like. My hands froze and I looked up into my face. My sunglasses were perched on my head, holding my streaked blonde hair behind my ears. I was blushing.
It suddenly struck me that I was so excited I could hardly stand it.
An hour ago, when I was mindlessly sliding my fingers up my ass and pinching my nipples, Johan had denied me an orgasm. Though I would much preferred to have had one (at least!), I had to admit that my excitement level had gone through the roof.
Finding myself in front of my mirror thinking about what I was going to do next had me creaming myself.
My skin was so hot I couldn't believe it, and the tingling and wetness of my pussy was utterly undeniable.
You see, I'd never been in this position.
I'd always thought that my fantasies were my own business. I enjoyed indulging them. I loved bringing myself off to them. I never thought I'd have to admit them to anyone. Let alone my husband!
However, thanks to his curiosity, and my inability to lie to him, Johan now knew exactly what I thought about when I masturbated.
Exactly.
God!
It was a turn on and a nightmare at the same time. I guess because Johan is the kind of guy who loves to do new things. To him, it's a challenge to "keep it interesting". At the same time, in his own way, he's kind of conservative too. I mean, he ties me up and spanks me, and he has me stick my fingers up my ass for his enjoyment for God's sake.
But we've
never
taken our fun outside the house.
Usually it's just him and me, indoors, playing and having fun.
Together.
Alone.
Now, I don't know about you, but I've always wondered if I'm enough. Like, you know, enough to keep his interest. Enough to keep him turned on and excited.
I've wondered if I could do more. Or be more. Like maybe I'm not crazy enough, or sexy enough or hot enough or whatever. I mean, I know he loves me and I love him, and he and I both know I'd do just about anything to please him. So I don't know why I feel that way. Maybe it's the small town girl in me coming back to bite my ass.
I wiped up an errant trickle making its way down the inside of my thigh, then sucked my finger.
"Is this what turns him on?" I wondered as I stood in front of the mirror. "Making me cover my body with cunt juice and oil so I smell like a hot slut? Making me slide Ben Wah balls into my pussy so I simmer, close to the boil? Dressing me in a bikini that we both know will be see-through when it's wet? Having me parade around the front yard with sex toys in my hands and waving at the neighbours?"
I could hear him chuckle and despite myself, I smiled.
"You are such a hot little slut," he would say.
I thought about those words as I looked into the mirror. The blush flared in my cheeks. Usually I rubbed my clit harder when he said things like that. God, I'm so bad.
I couldn't stop myself.
I watched as I lifted the hem of my white cotton skirt. I was worried and excited by what I might see. I could feel how wet I was without looking.
"Jesus," I muttered when it was high enough.
I was so wet the bottom half of my bikini bottoms was utterly transparent.
"I can't go out like this," I whispered self-consciously.
I looked out the window. At least it wasn't windy.
Turning sideways, I straightened my skirt, smoothed it over my ass and looked at myself in the mirror again. With my skirt in place, I looked like a classy beach-girl. I was ready but I kept putting it off. I knew Johan would come and get me eventually.
Besides, something kept me staring at the mirror with my eyes glued to the image of myself.
My nipples were fairly hard and I could see how they pressed against my tank top. I looked down. They weren't too prominent. Apart from that, I didn't think I'd attract too much attention.
Turning back to the mirror, I reached up and weighed a breast in each hand. I lifted them a little and let go, seeing how much jiggle there was.
Like I was in a trance, I could barely tear my eyes from my hands. They seemed to be moving of their own accord. Like I was a puppet and a puppeteer controlled them. I kneaded inwards toward the centre, squeezing my breasts till they bulged between my fingers, my nipples pushing further forward.
"Mmmmm…"
My breasts ached so much they hurt. One touch and the tips would be really hard. Then they'd stick
right
out. Then
everyone
would notice.
I fluttered my eyes closed and my fantasy tore me from reality.
My thumbs brushed over my nipples.
"Ohhhh…"
Everyone would see. Everyone would be looking at me.
I pinched them between thumb and forefinger.
Seeing my nipples, hard and poking through my tank top.
My fingers tightened.
Maybe Johan would lift my skirt. Lift my skirt and show my cunt to someone.
They tightened further and I gritted my teeth.
Maybe a stranger. Maybe a neighbour. Maybe he'll make me take my clothes off in the car park and walk down to the beach, showing off my wet cunt in my transparent bikini to anyone who happened to look.
"What is wrong with me?" I cried aloud, releasing my nipples, my eyes springing open.
I looked at my chest.
"Oh no," I said aloud.
My nipples were now exactly how I hoped they
wouldn't
be.
"Damn it," I said, annoyed with myself.
Suddenly I thought, "I could take someone's eye out!"
I covered my mouth with my hand as I giggled and my face flushed. Johan stepped up behind me and I almost jumped out of my skin. I thought it was a robber!
"Don't
do
that!" I whined.
He chuckled as his hands found my hips and he smiled at me in the reflection of the mirror.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"No!" I replied, pouting.
His eyes broke from mine, trailing down my body and back up again. Hot streaks of desire raced across my skin and I swallowed nervously. I could smell the scent of my juices all over me and my pussy was aching.
He whispered as his lips brushed against my ear. His breath was cool on my skin. Goose bumps rose on the skin of my arms.
"You look so fucking hot… look at your nipples…"
We both did and my skin tingled as my pussy clenched around the Ben Wah balls.
"I hope I don't get arrested," I whispered.
I watched mesmerized as one of Johan's large hands slid up my stomach. He used his forefinger to trace over the letters of the word printed in white on my tank top.
"TOY".
My nipples throbbed and looked obscene. I loved this top, but I rarely wore it in company, let alone outside. It was so tight and pink and girly. When it's washed and folded in my drawer and I pick it up, for some reason I always think of how distorted and stretched the word ‘toy' looks after I pull it down over my breasts. So different from when it's folded and flat. I always loved prancing around the house in it, teasing Johan and rubbing up against him.
But now he was teasing me.
"My little toy," he whispered.
My knees almost collapsed as his fingertip circled my nipple. It was like a movie. Watching myself.
"You're ready. Get your toys."
Johan picked up my beach bag and I grabbed the two toys from my dresser. Smiling, he took my elbow in his hand.
There was no turning back now.
He led me through the house and down the stairs into the lobby. He opened the front door and ushered me onto the landing. I was facing the street in the shadow of our house, and I was suddenly aware of the heat of the day, so much warmer than the air-conditioning inside. I kept the toys behind my back as I looked around at our neighbours' houses.
There was a very light breeze that cooled the skin but the sun would definitely tan us. The sky was blue and the birds and crickets were singing.
I turned around to face Johan, continuing to hide the toys from prying eyes. He just stood in the frame of the door, holding it open and leaning against the doorjamb. He was blocking the way.
It was clear - I was NOT going back inside.
"Go on, you can do it," he said.
I nodded woodenly and turned back around. Swallowing, I somehow let my arms go limp. The toys felt sweaty as I rested my shaky hands by my sides.
I bit my lip and I looked around again to see if the coast was clear. It was just after eight in the morning, and I was afraid someone might be leaving for work and see. God, I was so fucking nervous. There was a tight ball of fear in my stomach.
And I was hot!
I could feel how juiced up I was. Every nervous move I made caused the Ben Wah balls to shift and click. Breath caught in my chest as a tremble ran through me.
I'd cultivated a rather obscure and aloof persona amongst our neighbours. I'd say hi but that was about it. Everyone around here was so rich that I never knew what to say anyway.
What if they saw me carrying a sex toy in each hand to the car?
