release the hounds! (breasts on display)

Local D is away and I admit I am struggling. We have not had the opportunity negotiate a relationship or rather the character of the relationship when he is away. He is a long way away in remote locations with days that begin early and go late into the night, sometimes into the early hours of the morning. I have taken to keeping my phone on silent as there have been text messages as late as 1am, very unusual for him, though the risk is kind of exciting for me. Traditionally I have not been a girl that responds well to risk.

He issued an instruction today, one that made me anxious. No panties of course, no problem (when I'm not at work). When I'm at work without stockings and only a summer frock, well that's a different story! In addition to a bare arsed girl, he decided that I should go out into the world with no bra. I was silent when I heard the words. Is he serious? He knows I hate this thought and he has not ever demanded it before. He has hinted that one day he might, but until now nothing.

"Text me when it is done."

I am not in my twenties. These puppies have done their womanly duty in child-rearing and girl fun. These fun bags deserve the over-shoulder boulder holder in situ. These boobs, hooters, tits, tatas are shapely and on the larger side, though not enormous. This puts me in mind of the first question asked by most men online, 'bra size?'  When I dabbled in online forums I thought it such a strange thing to ask. After all there was no cam involved, I could have said anything, 'big or small, what's your pleasure?' So what was the obsession with the answer to this question? I never really came to a satisfactory conclusion. But I am off the track...

The instruction was explicit. "No bra or panties around the house today, no bra at least once when you go out today." I hesitated, silent. My mind spinning, thinking...too much as I am want to do.

Now I know this is a basic thing, this little task. The thought of going out with the girls swinging free however, bouncing buoyantly, but frankly not as perky as they once were, drove in me an anxiety that threatened to overwhelm my submissve self.

"Yes Sir."

I went out, bra securely in place. Panties not so securely in place.

Later in a large shopping centre car park I sat in the car thinking. Silence. I looked around at the cars surrounding mine. Not a soul in sight. I reached under my shirt to my bra clasp and let it loose. As I watched a motorcyclist in the rear view mirror travelling toward me, my hand slid first up the sleeve of my right arm and pulled my bra strap down and off. The left repeated, I reached up under the front of my shirt and pulled my bra away to decamp my breasts from their comfortable citadel.

I was struck by the tension between the freedom I felt and the anxiety in my breath. Though my next move should have been to start the car, slip into drive and point the wheel to home, I opened the car door and got out. Closing the the door behind me, I stood looking at my reflection in the glass. I drank in the hang of my breast under my tight shirt, the shape of my nipple standing proud. I saw too the shape and pink colour of my areolar though the white of  the cotton fabric. I messaged my obedience while I gazed at my reflection. Then, I got back in the car and drove home.

photographer unknown. Source: the internet

la petite mort

I undertook my task


We were going out..and I didn't have long, but the timeframe was drawing to a close.


I sat on the corner of the bed right next to my hub. I lifted my skirt and exposed my pantiless self. I layed back and with my left hand (I am left handed) I began to play. He loves to watch me play. His face intently watching over my play, taking in every second, his nostrils drawing in my scent. I closed my eyes and stretched out hard as I do.


My mind travelled to Daddy, at his feet, on my knees, watching me play, collar and leash.


My body responding to the play on my clit and the play in my mind was intense. P squeezed and kneeded my arse as he watched me all over.

Daddy in my mind, the cold of his geography making my nipples hard..the excitement I feel being at your feet.


Relaxed afterwards, he kissed me again and again as I held his hard cock in my hand my fingers stroking his balls.



 photographer unknown, via internet



i'm back Daddy

I am back having done as i was told.

Panties off in the bathroom of the restaurant.
I removed my black heeled shoes and my stockings, my feet bare on the cold tiled toilet floor. I slid down my panties and stepped out of them one leg at a time.

Pulling my fishnet stockings back on I was careful not to rush and tear a hole in them.
Once the stockings were straight and in place I felt the breeze fly up though the tiny diamond spaces to my bare pussy. I stepped into my shoes. I liked the click-clack sound the leather shoes made on the tiles of the toilet floor as I tried to step into them quietly and delicately avoiding anyone else in the bathroom hearing and wondering why I had removed my shoes in the restaurant toilet. Screwing my thong panties into a little ball I placed them in the palm of my hand and thrust them deep into my handbag and returned to the table where my three girlfriends sat laughing with glasses of wine raised to their lips.

I had already begun to feel my pussy throb, growing warm and moist. I had already been pretty moist in anticipation of carrying out your instruction, but now, it was almost like I was opening, stretching, in search of something to fill my aching pink flesh.
I spent the rest of the evening through the main meal and then coffee squirming in my seat with the growing heat of my bare pussy.

After dinner I was wet and tingly. My mind drifted to my pantyless state as I drove home "sitting proper" in my seat, my skirt hitched up, my bare fishnet clad pussy wetting on the seat.

I had enjoyed my task.