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Exposed
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Exposed
by
Kilgore von Wau Wau
She is feeling frisky, crawling into my lap, snaking her arms
around me, nibbling my ear, as I am trying to read. She licks the
lobe. Her breath is harsh in my ear. She moves slightly, her bot-
tom shifts in my lap and the pressure arouses me.
I say, "I am reading, Lover."
"I know, Lover," she murmurs. Her tongue runs along the edge
of my ear, then back again, until it jumps to my neck. I suppress
a shiver. My interest in the book is waning. I try not to let it
show.
Her elbow shifts, bends one of my pages, as her hand reaches
inside my shirt, searching for a nipple. She knows that I am sen-
sitive there. More sensitive than anywhere else.
I stop her hand, pressing it firmly against my chest. The
book falls from my grasp, landing on the floor next to the couch.
"You've made me lose my page," I say.
"I'm sorry," she says, but for some reason it sounds insin-
cere. Her lips touch my throat.
"I think you're not sorry at all. I'm going to have to do
something about that."
I can feel her lips form a smile. She wiggles. "Then punish
me."
I lean forward, holding her tightly, then drop her on the
floor. She suppresses a squeal.
"Get the Box."
She looks at me, a twinge of mock anger showing on her face.
"If you want to play, we'll play," I say. "Get the Box."
She grins quickly and walks into the bedroom, where resides
our Box. It used to be a shoe box, but then I bought a paddle that
didn't fit. Now it's a small padded footlocker. Amazingly the box
itself is a toy.
She returns carrying it in her arms. I have picked up the
book, found my place and marked it while she was gone. I lean back
as she enters, watching her set the Box on the floor in front of
me. She is dressed in sweat pants and sweat shirt, having changed
into comfy clothes after our dinner. Her hair is pulled back in
that style that I love. Her cheeks are slightly flushed from her
exertion. She looks wonderful.
"Strip," I say.
She looks at me, then glances at the windows behind me.
"No one will see, now do it."
Still she hesitates. Usually she is blindfolded and I take
her clothes off for her. For some reason, she is ashamed of her
body. It gives me a boundary against which to push.
"Strip," I say, louder. I reach into the Box and remove the
paddle. She sees it and is quick to remove her shirt. I look away
as she undresses, pretending indifference. Her hair is dark with
traces of red, and it draws an eye to her smooth, pale skin. The
breasts are large, full and sensual, with lightly pigmented nip-
ples. Her waist is small and her hips flare in the most beautiful
of curves. Her ass is firm and moves wonderfully when she walks.
After a moment, I turn toward her and see that she is naked
except for her panties and her socks. Her arms are crossed over
her breasts and she has that little child look she gets whenever
she's naked when I'm not.
I rise, grab her arm and pull her to me. I sit again, taking
her across my lap. She gasps, not expecting this treatment.
I let the paddle fall five times across her ass. She moans
after each stroke, moves against my legs.
"My command was to strip," I say, pushing her to her feet.
She sways slightly and her cheeks are more flushed than before.
She reaches for her panties and pulls them off. She bends to
remove her socks.
Her pussy is smooth, shaved bare. The lips are red, inviting.
As she turns slightly, I see that her ass is red, marked from the
paddle.
I root through the Box, searching for the items I want. I
pull out blindfold, leather cuffs, 12 inch chain, a garter belt,
and seamed stockings. She watches me with no expression.
I motion to her and she comes close. I sit her on the closed
Box, positioning her in front of me, her back to me. I place the
blindfold over her eyes and tie it. The cuffs go around her wrists
and I attach the chain between them. I stand and pull her to her
feet.
She is slightly hunched and still her arms cover her breasts.
I move her hands to her sides, so that the chain rests against the
curve of her stomach. Then I lift her chin, forcing her to stand
straight with chest extended.
I move her to the center of the room, walking around her.
Then I attach the garter belt to her waist. It is black and lacy
and I always seem to put it on her backwards. She giggles as I
remove it after my first abortive attempt to fasten it.
"If I were you," I whisper into her ear, "I wouldn't be gig-
gling." I whack her ass with my hand. She jumps. I finish with the
belt and lift her legs one at a time to slide the stockings on.
I alternate between legs, pulling at one then the other until
the nylons are at the middle of her thigh. I check the seam and I
see that it weaves drunkenly up her leg. I straighten it.
When I am done, I touch her crotch, feeling her pussy. She is
wet, and I easily insert a finger, wiggle it. She moves against
me, sways slowly. I remove the finger. Bring it to my mouth.
Then I take the center of the chain and lead her into the
bedroom, leaving her in the center as I change clothes. She thinks
that I am getting undressed, I know. I do remove my clothes, but
put on black dress pants and an olive-colored shirt. She cocks her
head when she hears me apply deodorant. I comb my hair, put on
shoes.
"Well, I'm ready, but what about you?"
I look at her and I know she is uncertain of what is happen-
ing. Usually we would be in the middle of a scene by now, touch-
ing, holding, or beating. Was that a hint of fear in her face?
I removed the blindfold, and she looks at my dressy clothes.
A question appears on her lips. I glare at her.
"No talking."
I lead her to the mirror, remove her hair burets, and comb
the strands. She loves this, whenever I baby her, take care of her
like this. I apply deodorant, a touch of perfume, a dash of lip-
stick. My hand is amazingly steady.
I kiss her neck and say, "You are exceptionally beautiful
tonight. I think we should go out."
I take her chain and lead her to the front door. She holds
back, fear in her eye. She almost speaks.
"Oh, yes," I say. "It's rather cold out there. Let me get
your coat." I remove the chain, pocketing it, but leave the cuffs
on her wrists. Then I get her long winter jacket and help her into
it.
It is long, covering her torso completely, coming to her
knees. No one could tell that she is naked under it.
"Uh oh. I forgot the shoes." I go to her closet and take a
pair of black heels from the floor. I put them on her.
"Let's go." I say and lead her reluctantly out the door.
# # #
She pushes her hands deep into her coat pockets as we walk
out the door. I let her go ahead of me and watch her closely. She
looks entirely normal. A thrill passes through my chest as I real-
ize that, except for belt and stockings, she is naked beneath the
coat.
I open the car door for her. She has to remove a hand from
her pocket to scoop her coat beneath her. I see that the leather
cuffs are apparent on her wrists. I shut the door.
After I start the car, I say, "Give me your wrists." I take
her arms and put them behind her head, connecting the chain
through the headrest support. Her hands are pinned above her. I
then pull her seat belt across her chest.
I pull out of the parking space, driving slowly down the
street. It's a short trip to our first destination.
The House is alive with people. She sees where we are going
and stares at me. I give her a quick smile.
We pull into the lot and I remove the chain, but leave the
cuffs. I say to her, "No talking unless someone asks you a direct
question."
We enter the House and are assaulted immediately by the crash
of music. I hear a girl's laugh somewhere upstairs. It cascades
through the stairwell. We go to the second floor.
There we immediately see Mark, Frank, and Phil. Maria,
Frank's new girlfriend who talks too much, is there as well. When
first we met her, I'd told my lover that Maria needed to be gagged
and spanked. She'd agreed with me.
My lover shadows me as we enter the hall. Her hands dig deep
into her pockets and her shoulder presses against me. I move for-
ward leaving her to stand alone as I go over to Mark. We exchange
our greetings.
She stands there watching me and I give her a quick glance.
Her face looks pinched. Frank asks her a question.
She gives a weary smile, and answers, "We're just out for a
drive."
"We may stop to get a drink somewhere," I add.
"Hey," says Mark. "We're going to see a cheap movie. Do you
want to come along." I lock on her eyes for a moment and her look
is desperate. She most definitely doesn't wish to go.
I let the question hang for a moment, then decline. "We
aren't dressed for a movie," I say.
Maria says, "You guys look fine. Maybe just a little over-
dressed. But that's all right. We'd be the ones who'd look out of
place. Maybe Frank should drop me off at my apartment and I can
change my clothes. I just bought a new outfit. It's red with...."
I suppress a smile as she talks. "No, we just stopped by to
be social for a few minutes. Then we're going to go be social
together. Come on," I say to my lover. "Let's see who else is
around."
I take her hand and it slips from her pocket without her
thinking about it. I pull her through the group and for a second
Mark glances ar her wrist. Does he see?
Of the four in the hall, Mark is the least vanilla. None of
them know about what my lover and I do. The other three would
probably be shocked beyond belief. Our vanilla camouflage is
pretty good. Does Mark see the leather cuff on her wrist? If he
does he says nothing.
We pass through the House and talk to several people. My
lover is meek and docile, which is something odd for her. Usually
she is outgoing and chatty. I'm sure some people wonder what's
wrong.
We finish our tour of the house, ending back where we
started, in the hall with Mark, Frank, Phil, and Maria who talks
too much. I say our good-byes and we leave.
As we walk to the car, I ask her, "Excited?"
She looks at me. "God, yes."
"I hope you didn't drip on the carpet. It's new, you know?" I
open the door for her. "Do you want to go home?"
"Only if you do," she says, looking up at me.
"One more stop."
# # #
I wait until we are away from the House, then I pull over. I
again attach her arms to the headrest. The position pushes her
chest out, arches her back, makes her look even more sensual. I
unbutton her coat.
She squirms. She doesn't want this. If anyone walks by he
could easily see her white flesh against the dark of the car.
Still, she is firmly in place, and I easily open the coat.
Her squirming only makes her more erotic. The pale light cast
by the street light gives her skin a bluish tint. A shadow hides
her cunt, making the flashes I see enticing.
The coat is now entirely open. She is exposed from head to
thigh.
I pull away from the curb, turn down Harding towards the
expressway. She is breathing heavily. She is both panicked and
aroused.
"Do you need a blindfold, Love?" I ask.
She jumps at the sound of my voice. But she smiles softly.
"No, My Love."
The expressway is brighter and she tries to scrunch down in
her seat. But she can't. Her wrists are bound tightly to the head-
rest and she can move only slightly. Anyone looking into her win-
dow, would see her breasts quite easily. Anyone from above would
see her garter belt and shaved pussy.
The expressway is empty, but still she keeps looking behind
us and before us, checking for any approaching cars.
There in front of us is a slower car. I speed up, near it
from behind and one lane to the left of it. The driver will be on
her side of the car if I pass. She looks at me, but I remain with
eyes upon the road.
At the last moment, I change lanes and pass on the right. She
looks straight ahead as I pass, not wanting to draw the driver's
attention by watching to see if he is watching.
We pass and then we are crossing the river. We take the first
exit: Covington.
At the stoplight, she is frantic. There are people nearby.
She writhes in the seat as she tries to make sure no one is look-
ing.
As we pull away, a group of people round the corner. One of
them, a man, looks. Does he see? Does he glimpse her naked body?
I watch him in the rearview mirror, and he is watching us.
Then we are away from the lighted district, nearing the his-
torical river-front area. We've been here before in daylight
hours and nighttime hours. In fact, our first kiss was here by the
river, several years back. It was a horrible kiss.
I park and we sit a moment. My hand caresses her inner thigh.
She moves against it. Her body is violently hot. I touch her
mound, caress the clit. She pushes against the seat, trying to put
more pressure against my hand, but I pull away. I am in a teasing
mood.
I button her coat, then detach the chain from one cuff only.
I position her hands in front of her and attach the cuffs
together, so that her wrists cross. The chain falls along a crease
in her coat.
I go around and open the door for her. She stands awkwardly,
unable to use her hands effectively. The chain jingles as it falls
free of her. I take it in my hand and lead her to the sidewalk.
The river front is quiet. There are some couples here, but
not many. We walk together, her slightly behind me. We are linked
by the chain that I hold in my hand.
She is vibrating with excitement and lust. I feel and echo
it. We have never been so open in our games. Here she is cuffed
and led on a chain along a street.
We cross, and the noise of the river becomes louder. A couple
passes us, but doesn't even look at us. I jingle the chain
slightly as they move by. My lover quickly pulls it taut, stifling
the sound.
The river is louder. We can see it's shape in the soft light.
Across from us is the city, it's wavering reflection in the river.
Noise from the riverboats reaches us. Music and laughing. White
noise.
We come to steps. I lead her down toward the water. It is
black. Blacker than the ground. Blacker than the night. We stand
there a few feet from it.
I release her wrists and take her into my arms. We kiss and
it's much, much better than the first. I begin to unbutton her
coat. She doesn't even check to see if anyone is watching. She
just looks into my eyes. I give her a smile.
The coat comes open, and I slip my arms around her back. The
skin in soft, smooth. She moves against me, tight. My hand travels
down her spine, touching the ridges. I squeeze her ass. My hand
reaches between her legs, a finger enters her. She moans.
Slowly I finger her. Her hands grip my back. She shutters.
Her breath is hot against my neck. Her teeth clamp against my ear-
lobe.
My finger pushes farther in response. She gasps, moves her
hips, comes softly.
I hold her until her breathing slows. Then go behind her. I
pull the edges of the coat apart, exposing her naked body to the
cold and the city. She laughs softly, but doesn't cover herself.
I button her coat, remove the chain, and put it in my pocket.
As we walk back to the car, she clings to me tightly.
"Now, maybe I can get back to my book," I say with a smile.
"Not likely, Lover," she says with the same smile.
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