Prologue

I know that something is different when I go into the bedroom and my clothes are laid out for me. He tells me to put them on and something in his tone means that I don’t ask any questions about the dress he has selected. I get a flutter as I get ready and he watches me. I feel self conscious and would usually try to joke to deflect from how I feel but it is as if he sees through me so I don’t even bother. I don’t know what is going on but he isn’t behaving as he usually does. I notice his black bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room.

I am about to speak when he tells me that we are going away for the night. Again I want to question but his look means that I stay quiet.
“I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after a hard week. I assume you trust that I have everything under control?”
“Yes Sir,” I reply without question. In fact my need to question has been immediately diminished by his authoritative manner. But he knows me well and is one step ahead.
“I realise that this is hard for you and that there are things that you want to know. But be assured that I have made the necessary arrangements and we are free just to be away from home and spend some time with each other.”

I thank him and finish getting dressed. He takes my hand and leads me out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once outside, he opens the car door and waits for me to get in before he closes it behind me. I glance around quickly and I see that there is a bag already in the car for me. I feel bad that I have looked and even that I wondered. He is right. I need this. I asked for this. I have to trust him and stop my mind from whirring around. I breathe out slowly as his door clicks shut and the engine starts. As the music relaxes me, my mind begins to quieten.

We have been driving for a while when he tells me to remove my underwear and lift my dress up. I do as asked and can feel the leather under the skin of my bum and it makes me twitch.
“Now open your legs.”
I assume that he is going to touch me and I make myself open and available for him. I am wrong. He doesn’t touch me.  I feel exposed and vulnerable as we ride along and the cool air from the air con against me is a constant reminder of my position. I want to close my legs, to take control, but I know that is the last thing I should do.
“You remember what you told me last week?” he asks.

I nod and reply. My face burns a bit as I remember telling him that I needed him to be firmer with me, that I needed him to take my submission from me. I cringe at that voice who spoke then. She has led me here with her bravery and now it feels different. She can say those things, but has left me to follow them through. Already the head space is altered and I feel uncertain of myself with his new way of being. The confidence which threw those statements around and told of the dreams and desires has been replaced with a timidness and a compliance which means that already I am struggling to think.

And as we drive on, dress bunched up around my waist, legs spread wide for all to see, I am drowning in my own humiliation as my clit throbs and aches. I tense my muscles inside as if to hide the very nub of my embarrassment from him but there is no hiding. I have exposed myself through every conversation, through every word I uttered in frustration and longing, and here I am, caught in my own trap. He has listened to me, I realise to late. He may have been listening to me for much longer than I realised and I feel a twinge of fear at how far he will take this, how far he will push me.

I suddenly worry what I have told him. How much I have revealed through my provocation for more? Well I have more now I think as we pull off the road and begin the drive up the track. I feel him look at me and when our eyes meet he smiles. I can feel that look on my face, the hunted look, and I see something flicker across his face as he sees it.
“Don’t look so worried,” he says. “This is what you wanted.”  I want to scream that I have changed my mind, that I am not sure. I want to wriggle and squirm and find a way out but I am haunted by my own words and by the compulsion to see where this will go.

As the car makes its way to around the bend I see the house. I see someone at the door and as we get closer I realise it is her. The world starts to swim around me now as the realisation hits and I claw at the memory of the conversation we had and at what I may have suggested and disclosed. I cast my eyes down in shame at my precarious position, my heart racing and my breathing quickening.
“Wait here!” he instructs once we have come to a stop. He gets out and goes to her, kissing her on each cheek. They laugh and exchange some words that I cannot hear. He has his back to me but he turns to look towards the car and I see her look across too. Together, they begin to walk towards me.

Masturbation Monday: Week 210

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