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Exposed Ch. 01

By: GigglingGoblin



"A toast!"

Claire glanced over, suppressing a sigh as she watched a drunken knight climb atop a table. He yanked one of Claire's fellow barmaids up with him, and the unlucky girl let out a nervous giggle as he pulled her close.

"A toast," he continued, "to the Shoshen...Chosen Comman'er, protector of purity in our lands! With his brill'ant tactics, he an' we Knights've...'ve saved us once more, an' we're all 'ternally adebted! Wouldn't you agree, fair lady?"

Claire raised an eyebrow as the barmaid bit her lip, probably confused by the unusual show of chivalry. She was a petite blonde named Suli, with breasts that probably gave her severe back pains. "Y-yes?"

Inwardly, Claire prayed to the Goddess that Suli would have the sense to say no more.

"I..."

Claire gave a tiny groan.

Suli bowed her head. "...of course I'm eternally grateful. The Chosen Commander saved us from immorality and—and d-drove the perverts and whores back into their caves w-where they belong."

The knight raised an eyebrow and looked Suli over, staring openly at her breasts—barely covered by her skimpy uniform. He gave a malicious grin. "Not all the whores." He reached for a steel canister at his belt.

Suli blinked, wide-eyed. "Um...n-no. Please."

Claire turned away, doing her best to shut out the squelching sounds that followed. She heard Suli whimper. A loud moan echoed throughout the crowded pub, and the knight let out a roaring laugh. "Oh, yes! You like the tentacles, you drooling slut! Beg for more!"

"Ohh...p-please, sir—"

"Slut!" the crowd started chanting. "Slut! Slut! Beg! Beg! Beg!"

Claire rushed into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She covered her ears, trying to drown out her friend's...sounds.

"For the greater good," she whispered to herself.

It was not easy being a spy.

"You must do this," the Goddess said.

Claire looked at the ground, knowing it would be the basest of sacrileges to gaze upon her queen. "But I fear, Goddess. The Chosen are even crueler in their own territory. We are already winning the war—"

"I have foreseen otherwise," Yillit said. The little goblin-like creature skittered forward on all fours. "Larya and her shifty friend turned something up. The rangers have been compromised."

Claire took a step back. "Surely not!"

"Listen to Yillit," the Goddess said. "Because of this, we can no longer rely on the rangers' support. Our foes have stooped to subterfuge, and so must we."

"My Goddess, I would not question—but—"

"I understand." The Goddess placed a smooth hand on Claire's shoulder. Claire felt a shiver run down her spine. "You know how they treat women there. You have no wish to return. But you must."

"Freedom in the kingdoms depends upon it!" Yillit leaped onto the Goddess's shoulder and out of sight. "I dare not imagine what would happen were they to make it past the Evergreen."

Claire swallowed.

"I understand, my Goddess."

Claire's eyes opened. She lay in her straw bed, gazing up at the rotting ceiling above her.

The Holy Word was not an especially well-kept inn, that was for sure. Nor was it kind to its female employees—though kinder than most in the area, perhaps. Still, she would never work here in a million years if it weren't for the fact that the Chosen and his knights frequented it.

Claire got up and spread her arms, yawning. She scratched one of her breasts, noticing her nipples were hard, as usual.

She rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure the innkeeper kept the barmaids' rooms this cold on purpose.

The other barmaids were already at work, meaning the users of the many peepholes had probably wandered off by now. For the moment, she was alone—a rare luxury in this nation.

Claire shook her long black hair out of her face, groaning. It would be a short-lived blessing.

She picked up the scant piece of red lingerie the Chosen called a skirt and slid it on. She put on her ill-fitting scarlet bra, struggling as usual to make it go all the way around. The innkeeper deliberately gave them clothes that wouldn't quite fit. Claire had made a few adjustments, but she was still effectively naked when she left the bedroom.

You're late.

She rolled her eyes, adjusting one of the two steel bracelets she wore. Yillit had promised not to use the telepathic link while she was in bed, but that didn't stop the little imp from 'talking' her ear off the moment she left the room. Worse, she couldn't respond to him without being found out.

You shouldn't be so late. They'll suspect. They'll know.

"They won't," she mumbled under her breath.

DON'T RESPOND TO ME! She grimaced as the words pounded into her skull. A moment later, Yillit's voice returned, quieter. Sorry.

Claire nodded briskly as she entered the common room.

The place was packed. Farmers, miners and Chosen soldiers crowded the bar, filled with the camaraderie only found when there were no girls in the club.

There were girls, though. Technically. Claire looked around, spotting each of her six co-workers as she walked by.

"Good morning, Tiri," she murmured. Tiri, a beautiful dark-skinned woman with curly dark hair down to her waist, was being shoved over the counter by a burly knight. She let out ecstatic cries as the knight plunged into her from behind, his trousers lying around his ankles. Several other knights appeared to be taking bets on how long she would last before passing out.

"Good morning, Amira." Claire patted the head of a beaming blonde as she went past. Amira only giggled as she fingered herself at the command of three masturbating youths.

"Good morning, Anne." She passed by a redhead with shining red eyes and a long, red tail. Anne was a succubus who'd had the misfortune of being summoned at the time of the Chosens' incursion. She had slain her summoner, only to be captured by the invaders before she could escape back to Hell.

It had taken a full hour with the Conversion to break her. Now Anne moaned happily as she sucked a miner's cock, her fingers slipping in and out of...

"Good morning, Eliene." Claire hurried past as Eliene's gasps got hoarser and hoarser. Eliene showed no response, eyes glazed with lust as she lay back on the chair and let Anne toy with her. Her golden tresses bounced every which way with every gasp she took.

"And...good morning, Suli." Claire tried not to look at the little one, who was humping one man and being fucked in the ass by another. Suli gave an earpiercing scream of pleasure, and was speedily silenced by a man putting his cock between her plush lips. She started licking and sucking in earnest.

She'd only been twenty years old. And now...

You really shouldn't greet them. It will draw their attention. And upset you.

But Claire knew she had to. Once, these women had been people. Suli had kept rabbits in a pen outside. Tiri and Eliene had been lovers (despite knowing how the Chosen treated homosexuals). Amira had been designing some sort of strange device to fly out of the Kingdom of the Chosen altogether. They had had plans, aspirations.

But then someone had noticed. Noticed they were still thinking, weren't loyal enough to the Chosen. And the Conversion...

Claire walked past her sixth coworker, Ri, without a word. She just gave a brisk nod. The slim, white-skinned girl nodded back, not making eye contact. They were the last two. Ri wasn't an infiltrator like Claire, but they were the ones who'd been able to keep their peace and avoid too much attention.

Too much. Ri was currently being straddled by a the same knight who'd Converted Suli. Ri didn't have the protective magic Claire did, and some soldiers seemed to like her strange skin. Or perhaps it was the way she was too frail to risk fighting back.

"Oh!" The knight let out a guffaw as he pounded into the little albino. Ri let out a gleeful squeal (one learned quickly to act as happy as possible about the situation). "That enough for you, bitch? You—ohh, gods, you like that?" He glanced at Claire. "Hey, you, uh...nnn...dirty slut...get me a beer, slut."

Claire hurried off. It wasn't wise to keep the Chosen waiting.

Mornings were always tough. Fortunately, things generally slowed down in the evenings, giving Claire and Ri a chance to catch their breaths. Literally, in Ri's case.

Currently, there were only three patrons: the Chosen who'd Converted Suli—Claire had heard him called Belkir—and two of the youths that had been watching Amira. The youths looked exhausted.

Claire concealed a smirk. No doubt they'd made the mistake of taking the nimble wench up to a room. Amira had always been a bit of a nymphomaniac, even before her Conversion.

Suli was keeping Belkir very occupied—she bounced up in down in his lap now, beaming at him with wide, hungry eyes. Belkir lay back, almost slipping out of his chair, his eyes half-shut. Suli's moans had gotten so loud, the bartender had been forced to come over and stuffed a rag in her mouth.

Claire sat at the counter with Ri and Amira. Amira was leaning against the wall, fingers lazily rubbing under her skit. Ri hunched over in silence.

The youths were on the floor, being caressed by Anne and Eliene. Anne was also licking Eliene out, eliciting harsh cries of bliss. The youths gasped as their cocks started to rise, but they seemed too tired to move. Not that that would stop a horny succubus—and right now, Anne epitomized horny. She would stop if they told her to, but who could ever tell a succubus no?

Claire and Ri shared a look. They couldn't say anything; not with Amira around. Amira herself had learned the hard way that Converted would give someone up in a heartbeat if they thought that someone wasn't doing their very best to please the Chosen. And her aircraft had brought her so close to escape, too.

Claire turned as she heard the kitchen door open, and the cook waddled out. Otyu was a grotesque walrus of a man, with greasy black hair and beady black eyes. Worse, he seemed to believe an apron was a valid substitute for a shirt. His body odor was unbelievably foul, and Claire had to concentrate on breathing through her mouth as he leaned in.

"Evening, bitches. I've got good news for you three lovely bimbos—I got no 'use' for you tonight."

Ri breathed an infinitesimal sigh of relief, even as Amira looked, as always, disappointed. Claire had to keep from rolling her eyes. She knew for a fact that Otyu had nothing downstairs, which was why he never had 'use' for any of them. Still, he had to keep up appearances. The Chosen dealt very unkindly with eunuchs.

"Yup, I'll be sleepin' alone tonight." Otyu sucked in a deep breath. "Looks like a slow night, anyway. You three might 's well head to—"

There was a knock at the door.

Otyu, Ri and Claire froze, even as Amira and the other girls looked up, eyes shining with sudden joy.

Oh, my. Claire heard Yillit gasp. It's...it's him.

Nobody bothered to knock at the door of a tavern. None save one man. A man so arrogantly stubborn in his traditions that he would never enter a building uninvited.

"Ri," Claire whispered, "we need more potatoes. Go get some." Otyu didn't object as Ri slunk away. Claire knew he had a soft spot for the albino, and was glad of it. She didn't want Ri getting involved in this.

At last. After all these months, she'd found him. The Chosen Commander, head of the forces of bigotry and tyranny. The inventor of the foul Conversion technique. Her most hated enemy.

A moment passed in silence. Claire licked her dry lips, then turned away and started cleaning the tables. "Otyu," she hissed, "the Commander?" It was risky to prompt him like this, but she couldn't bear the anticipation.

"Oh! Right!" Otyu gave a nervous nod, then called, "Come in!"

Painfully slowly, the door creaked open.

A handsome young man stepped through. He wore spiky metal armor, and a vicious-looking morningstar hung at his belt—right beside a small steel cylinder.

He looked around, locked eyes with Claire...and smiled.

Claire gulped.

"You do us tremendous honor, My Liege!" The old innkeeper couldn't stop bowing, but the Chosen Commander only kept smiling. "We...do have the savior of our lands...in my humble—"

"Please, sir." The Chosen Commander leaned back in his chair, raising a glass of wine to his lips. "I've only done what any other moral man would have."

The youths had scampered out. They'd tried to bring Anne with them, but the Chosen had put a quick stop to that. No barmaid was leaving the common room now.

The common room was now being flooded as no fewer than twelve soldiers poured in. Claire dodged nimbly around two, who ran past her and tackled Eliene to the ground. The golden-haired beauty could only let out tiny squeaks as they started pounding into her from both sides. These were men very experienced in the art of rape, and it was clear she was being completely overwhelmed both physically and sensually.

Claire stepped over Amira, who was rolling on the ground with three soldiers all eager for a chance with her. The Chosen generally kept plenty of concubines, but clearly these Chosen favored more...challenging fare.

Fare that was only mostly broken. Fare that still, deep down, objected to this treatment.

I'm not sure the enchantments will hold, Yillit warned. You may get...taken. Once or twice.

Claire understood. It would be worth it. The Chosen Commander was loudly going over war plans with Belkir, and she was determined to catch every word.

She watched the Chosen Commander surreptitiously. He was younger, and handsomer, than she'd expected. From his extreme beliefs, she'd always pictured him as an old man, but his short black hair had not a streak of gray, and his gray eyes shone with youthful lust for life.

She wanted to kill him. She wanted so badly—so, so badly—to kill him. She had a knife on her tray. She could do it.

Don't try it. Claire realized she must have been eying the knife, and scolded herself. They'll kill you. It's not worth it, especially since you might fail. We need that intelligence.

"...circle around," the Commander was saying. "The heathens will surely follow, and then..."

Claire edged closer. The eight guards were all 'occupied' taking turns with the girls, and—

"...hold on. Who's that?"

Claire froze. It took her a moment to realize the Commander was looking at Anne, not her. She turned, realizing the redhead was being completely ignored by the soldiers. The succbus sat on the floor, happily stroking herself and cooing nonsense.

"Who? Oh, Anne." The innkeeper chuckled. "She's one of the demon bitches, Your Eminence. Happened to be in the area when you liberated our lands."

"Why is no man taking her? Is the woman...defective?"

"Oh, no!" The innkeeper looked mortified. "She is very much Converted, Your Grace."

"Then why...Horace!" The Chosen Commander beckoned to one of the soldiers waiting for a turn with Tiri.

Reluctantly, the soldier came over. "Yes, sir?"

"Go fuck the succubus."

The soldier blinked. "...sir?"

"Take her however you like. But do it now." The younger man raised an eyebrow. "I do so hate to see property go unused. It must make her so very unhappy."

"But...sir, I..."

"What is it?" The Commander's eyebrows arched.

The soldier bit his lip. "...the demon frightens us, sir."

"Ah."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the Commander raised a hand. "Demon. Come here."

Anne looked up. Eyes shining, she leaped to her feet and—"

"No. Crawl. Crawl here, creature."

Annuisetvio blinked. She slowly crouched down, but seemed to hesitate. Even as fiercely exposed to the Conversion as she had been, the demon within resisted being controlled by any mortal.

"Demon." The Commander raised an eyebrow and curled a finger, beckoning. "Crawl, slut."

Slowly, haltingly, the demon began to crawl. The other soldiers stopped their activities, looking over for a moment before being drawn back into the fog of lust by their own victims.

At last, Anne the succubus knelt before the Commander, looking for all the world like a pet that had been called by its master.

The Chosen Commander's hand slunk down, agonizingly slow, creeping between Anne's legs. Claire realized she was staring and quickly averted her gaze as Anne started moaning.

"You see, Horace? They are all sluts. And they all know their place now."

All but one, Claire thought, eyes narrowing. And tonight, she was going to prove it.

She was serving drinks when it happened.

"Whore."

She froze, just for a millisecond, before looking up. The Chosen Commander leaned back in his chair. He looked at all the other girls, who had also reacted. "Ah, no. Not specific enough."

Every man in the room laughed, but Claire had a sinking feeling in her gut. The Chosen Commander pointed at her. "You. Come."

She trembled.

"Bring me a drink."

Oh. Was that it?

She carefully concealed her relief as she walked over and set his drink down. Her hand had a slight tremor to it. "Your drink, Your Holiness."

She turned to walk away—and felt his hand wrap around her wrist. Not tightly, but firm nonetheless. He spoke quietly. "Please, slut. There's no need for such formality."

She swallowed her fear and turned back, flashing an eager smile. "Commander?"

If she was going to get fucked...well, it was for the greater good. She couldn't let her cover be blown.

He smiled at her. "Oh, slut. How you have deceived them."

To her horror, she realized he was fingering her left bracelet. The bracelets were used to identify captives of the Chosen, but hers were forgeries.

He knew.

She tried to wrench her hand away, but his grip was like iron. She shook. "Wh...I don't..."

"Oh, you poor, confused harlot." His voice remained quiet. "You have been so harshly wronged."

His hand reached up and caressed her cheek. "Beautiful. Large breasts, womanly hips, smooth skin...you will make a fine addition to my army's collection."

She flinched away, glaring. "Don't touch me."

"Shh. Be not so fierce, little lamb. Or the wolves will hear you." He gestured around at the soldiers. "You don't want that."

Oh, Goddess. Yillit's voice was shaking. Claire, RUN.

"I can't," she whispered.

The Commander seemed to take this as an expression of submission. "That's right, little one. You can't." He wrapped an arm around her waist. "So be meek as a kitten, and perhaps you can avoid...this." He patted the cylinder at his belt.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. "No."

"Nobody can help you. You are mine."

"No," she growled.

Claire, be very, very careful.

"I won't let him break me!" she hissed.

The Commander blinked. "Who are you...ah." He eyed the right bracelet, smiling. "Telepathic communication. Is that your 'Goddess' on the other end?"

His hand slowly crept down her leg. "I'm going to fuck her, you know," he whispered in her ear. "I will make her scream for my cock, just like I will make you. Perhaps I'll let you rape her afterwards. Strip away any claims of holiness she might have left."

Claire's teeth clenched. "Fuck you."

"Oh..." His fingers crept under her skirt and began running along the folds of her pussy. "You wish."

The pleasure was a shock. Claire had not masturbated in months, and...oh, Goddess...that felt amazing. She let out an unwilling gasp.

"You like this?" He sounded mock-surprised. "Ah, but of course you do—for this is your true place."


Exposed Ch. 01



"No..." she groaned. "I...won't..." Even if she couldn't stop him from violating her, she would not surrender her pride to this monster.

Claire. Hold on. I'm going to send help at—what are you doing here?

"Oh, you sad slut. That feels good, doesn't it?"

It did. His fingers stroked her pussy, teasing her, rubbing inside her moistening clit and oh, it felt so, so good.

"Fuck you," she gasped. "Stop!"

"No. I am going to keep stroking you, and you are going to start begging for it." His calm, deep voice resonated in her head like Yillit's whispers, echoing as if there was nothing else left in there. Begging for it...begging...

"I...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are." The fingers sped up. "Because you love this. Deep down, you do. This is your rightful place. You are a slave to my fingers, for your lust is who you truly are."

"No...no..."

"Yes." His voice was inescapable. His fingers started probing, deeper and deeper. Claire bit her tongue, trying desperately to keep her growing moans quiet.

"Yes." His voice was inescapable. His fingers were inescapable.

She struggled to break free, starting to realize something very wrong was happening. But she couldn't. His grip on her wrist remained like iron.

"Slut."

The word rang in her ears. Claire liked it. She let out a whimper.

"You are my slut." His fingers touched a sensitive part of her, and she let out a louder whimper despite herself. Immediately, the fingers began focusing on that one area, driving her mad with desire.

She was building...she was going to cum...she was—

His fingers slowly drew out and went back to teasing. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and he smiled at her. "Do you like this?"

She glared. She could no longer trust her words.

The fingers began tickling around her dripping-wet cunt. "You love this. Admit it."

She let out another moan as the fingers worked their magic.

"Admit it. Tell me how it feels."

"I...fine!" Claire shut her eyes tight as she started to quietly cry. "It...it feels—" His fingers plunged in. "—aaaaamaaaazing! Oh, no."

"You are a slut."

"No," she whispered.

"Take off the bracelet."

She looked up with him, eyes streaming with tears. "But—"

"Take it off, or I'll tell all the soldiers, and they will fuck your brains out." He smiled. "Is that what you want? Is it what your cunt wants?"

"No!" She bit her lip. She was trying to think, but he kept stroking her, and she knew she couldn't give in, but was it giving in to admit to want to be fucked by the soldiers? Or was she supposed to want that?

No, that wasn't right, but...she was just too confused... "I..."

Claire. Claire, stop. CLAIRE—

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, as she pulled the bracelet off and shakily set it on the table.

"Good girl." The Commander patted a stool next to him. "Sit here. It's easier to finger you that way, and you look like you're about to collapse.

Claire could only obey. Her tiny bra was drenched in sweat, and her skirt was drenched in...something else.

The Commander leaned in, continuing his agonizingly slow ministrations. "You like this."

"yes," she moaned.

"But what kind of girl would enjoy something like this? Being fucked? In public? By someone she hates? By someone she took an oath to defeat, to protect those she loves?"

She stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't know. She no longer knew anything.

"Do you want to know what kind of girl you are?

She weakly nodded.

"You're a slut."

She blinked. Trembling, she shook her head. "n-n-no. no."

Two fingers thrust in. She gasped. "Oh!"

"You like this."

"Yes! Yessssss..." She was starting to increase in volume.

"You are a slut."

"y—ye—uh-huh..." She beamed stupidly as the Commander began to thrust in and out of her.

"You are a stupid, horny slut. This is your place."

"mmmm...yeah..."

"Say it." His eyes bored into her.

"I'm a slut," she whispered.

"Louder."

"I'm...nn...a slut."

"Louder."

She looked around. Some part of her hesitated.

"Louder." His other hand shot to her bra, ripped it off, and touched her breast.

That was all it took.

"Oh! Oh my Gosaaauga...yes! Yes! i'm a slut!" Her voice raised to a scream, so shrill that all the Chosen turned their heads to look in wonder. Claire's voice got higher-pitched as the Commander kept pleasuring her. "Oh, yes, fuck the Goddess, oh yesssss yes yes yes please keep fucking me!"

And with that, the Chosen Commander's fingers wrenched out.

He pushed over her stool, casting her onto the floor.

He got to his feet and turned away. "She's all yours, men."

Claire stared up, her face a picture of idiotic bliss, as Belkir descended upon her with malice in his eyes. "mm..."

He laughed, drawing out the cylinder. "Brainless little slut."

"mm...yea..." She giggled.

He opened the lid. "Gonna show her what a real god feels like."

She heard squelching, and beamed.

[Author's Note: Don't worry, things aren't over for Claire just yet. To Be Continued!]



Exposed Ch. 02



We were spending our second summer together, which allowed me to wear my bikini swimsuits in front of my husband. (I find it easier to call him my husband despite the fact that we were not married at the time.) Although my choice of swimsuits at the time covered much more of me than they do now, I loved how he looked at me. I could see in his eyes that he enjoyed seeing me exposed, as his gaze would linger on all of my unclothed body parts. It gave me a tingly feeling between my legs making me feel very sexy and more importantly, vulnerable.

On one of these summer days we walked to one of the Great Lakes, which was only a few blocks from my house. We found ourselves sitting along the breakwater on a stack of boulders that had been artificially piled up to preserve the beach.

It was a beautiful sunny day with a nice warm breeze coming from the lake.

I rolled my shorts up my legs to expose my skin to the rays of the sun. 

My husband had an odd look on his face as we sat there. It was as if he were trying to decide whether to do something or not.

I looked at him and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

His response wasn't what I expected.

He replied, "I want you to take your shorts off." 

I wasn't sure that I had heard him correctly.

He was asking me to strip outdoors in a public place. 

I scoffed at his suggestion reverting to the belief that a proper young lady doesn't strip to her panties outdoors where anyone might see her. 

He tried to reason with me by saying, "No one will know. It will look like you are waering a swimsuit."

I was wearing nothing that looked like a swimsuit bottom. My panties were bikini briefs in a white puckered cotton material. 

They looked exactly like what they were i.e. bikini style panties.

It would be quite obvious to anyone who saw me that I wasn't wearing a swimming suit.

So why did my stomach feel so quesey over the thought of it?

My mind insisted that it was something that you just don't do. However deep within I could feel the stirrings of excitement over the prospect of being so vulnerable. 

My husband continued to encourage me and I continued to resist, but I was weakening. My conscious mind refuted his requests to expose myself in such a public place, however my subconscious reveled in the thought of feeling so unprotected and unveiled.

I really liked how he looked at me in my swimming suits. And the few times that he saw me in my panties, I enjoyed it immensely.

But this was preposterous. I proper young woman just doesn't do this sort of thing.

Sure he had seen me in my panties, but it was always in a place where we were alone. Not outdoors and certainly not in public. I just couldn't do this, but why did the thought of it intrigue me so much?

It felt so wrong and so right all at the same time.

As he continued to encourage me, I said, "Well, I will just undo my button and zipper to get some sun on my stomach." I knew deep down that once I began the process of undoing my shorts, it would be just a matter of time before I found myself taking them completely off.

I was trembling when I reached down and unbuttoned my shorts. I could feel his eyes on me as I watched myself pull my zipper down slowly so as not to reveal too much.

My husband continued with his exhortations for me to remove my shorts. "After all, we are all alone. No one will see you."

The funny feeling in my stomach just wouldn't go away. I had never had anyone ask me to strip for them. It felt as if I had no control or say in the matter, and at the same time I felt totally in control.

Wouldn't a normal person simply laugh and say "I bet you would," to a request to strip, and then do nothing?

I really didn't understand this at the time but I wanted to allow him control over my inhibitions. In this way, I had an excuse to be unrestrainted.

After all, "He told me to." 

My shorts were now open revealing the top of my cotton bikini panties. The parts of me that were still covered were twitching in a very pleasant way.

"Come on. Let's see." He exhorted me to show more, so I slowly took a hold of the sides of my shorts and slipped them a little further down my hips. Now my panties were visible almost to my crotch and the little spasms of excitement intensified.

I looked at him as he stared at my open shorts. I liked the look on his face. A look of pure satisfaction and pleasure.

The same look that intoxicated me when I was alone in his dorm room so many months ago.

It made me feel sexy; very sexy.

"They look just like your swimming suit," was his response, and even though I knew that my panties looked like panties, I lifted my bottom up off of the rock that I was sitting on and slid my shorts down and off of my legs.

As my shorts made their arduous journey down my lower torso, a very specific kind of feeling invaded my body.

I was aroused. I mean sexually aroused.

This wasn't like anyother feelings of excitement that I had experienced. It was much more intense and almost overwhelming.

I reveled in the complexity of thoughts and feelings that passed through me as I was being encouraged to strip. It felt naughty, bad, shameful, slutty, exciting, daring, and arousing.

Here I was basically in the backyard of my neighborhood sitting in my white bikini panties. The thin material easily showed my dark tuft of pubic hair making it very obvious that this was not a swimsuit bottom.

It was my underwear. That article of clothing that commonly remains covered, particularly outdoors and especially in a public place. 

And yet I made no effort to cover myself up.

I was doing as I was asked to do. I was experiencing the act of putting myself on exhibition.

Some people get off on being naked in public, as the thought of being seen without any clothes on excited them.

I didn't exactly realize it at the time, but my excitement derived from wearing my scanties in a public place.

I suppose that you could analyze it as more infantile based or a safer form of exhibitionism.

It really doesn't matter as this is what excites me; and right at this moment I was very excited.

The tingling sensation that coursed through my lower extremities was intensifying and intoxicating.

I found myself constantly looking up and down the beach hoping that no one was about to come upon me. And yet at the same time the idea of being discovered unclothed made my nipples throb with excitement.

My husband smiled as if he knew all along that I had this hidden desire to exhibit myself.

I found myself handing him my shorts. So why didn't I keep them by my side in case I needed to cover up quickly? The sense; that he was in control; that I couldn't quickly get dressed if I needed to, only added to my arousal.

I had subconsciously committed to being seen in my panties.

My suppressed tendencies towards submission and exhibitionism had been unveiled at the same time that I had unveiled myself.

As we sat and talked, I felt the warmth of the sun radiating over my crotch. It all felt so liberating. I can't quite explain, but I felt that my inner desires for vulnerability and exposure had been uncovered just as I was uncovered.

I became so immersed in the feelings of arousal that I never noticed the group of college students approaching the very area that we were occupying.

A sense of panic overtook me and I quickly extended my hand for my shorts. 

Whether my husband had any intention of returning them to me I will never know, as it was too late. The two males and two females were climbing over the large boulders right behind us and within seconds were taking their seats within 10 feet of us.

They looked over at us saying "Hi". All of them glanced at my bikini briefs without any obvious reaction, however the entire time that I remained seated they would discreetly glance in my direction looking directly at my panties.

My own reaction sent a flush of crimson color to my cheeks. I knew that the longer we stayed the more obvious it would become that I was sitting in my panties.

I was surprised to find that the initial rush of anxiety as they approached us coupled with the feeling of embarrassment only added to my arousal. My impulse was to retrieve my shorts from my husband, get dressed, and to extricate myself from the situation vowing to never let something like this happen again. Instead I was glued to my spot trembling with excitement and embarrassment unable and/or unwilling to alter the situation.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I had to force myself to take deep breaths in order to relax.

As a child I remember being teased whenever someone could see my underwear. It ingrained itself inside of me that you should always keep yourself covered.

But I was now attracted to a young man that wanted me uncovered; uncovered for his pleasure.

And I liked how it made me feel; to accede to his bidding; to unveil myself, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

My husband was the first to grow a bit uncomfortable telling me that it was time to go. I am not sure why, although I suspect that it was about how much attention I was attracting from the other young men.

After all I was sitting close by them wearing nothing from my waist down other than my undies.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do. Do I stand up providing my audience with a full view of my panties or to discreetly slide my shorts back up my legs in a sitting position leaving them guessing as to my attire? I choose the latter method to cover myself and when my shorts were back in place rose up and clambered down the boulders.

I found that my excitement derived purely from the sense of being vulnerable and exposed and not from any overtly exhibitionistic act. 

I was so aroused by everything that had happened that day that I spent a good part of my bedtime vibrating with sexual arousal. 

I found that my excitement derived more from the feelings of vulnerablity and exposure than from any overt act of exhibitonism.

I liked feeling sexy and uninhibited, but knew that I couldn't act this way on my own.

I required someone to encourage me, and that someone was my future husband.

As I had done so often before while alone in bed, I slid my right hand inside my pajama bottoms and across the warm skin of my lower abdomen pushing my fingers against my very swollen lower lips until they discreetly parted allowing my slick kernel of pleasure to present itself for further exploration.

I was a bit surprised by my state of arousal quickly reaching orgasm. 

Lying there in that pleasant state of post orgasmic bliss, I vowed to shop for panties that better represented the young woman that I wanted to be. 

If I was going to be asked to strip in the future, then I wanted to give my future husband a show.



Exposed Ch. 02



"Annuisetvio. Annuisetvio." Solus's voice quivered as the tendrils of mist ran over his naked crotch again, softly tickling his hardening member. "A-Annuisetvio." 

"This is a bad idea," Larya hissed. "You hear when I say it's bad, yeah?" 

He couldn't spare even a glance at his apprentice. Larya was young, he knew—though mature enough to suffice. Her nineteenth birthday had been one month ago, and she had grown fast indeed for her age. 

Alright, he thought, just one look. The summoning spell was supposed to work better if he was aroused, after all. Larya, a dark-haired beauty with dark green eyes and jiggling round breasts, had never failed to arouse the aging wizard before. 

She saw him looking at her and glared. He had assured her that the spell required both of them to be naked. In truth, only he had that rule, but it was only fair she share the burden. 

He quickly returned to the task at hand, casting a handful of red sand over the summoning circle. "Annuisetvio," he whispered again. 

"Master, it's a succubus. You can't control those crazy bitches." 

He steadfastly ignored her. Actually, he didn't so much ignore her as forget her. The tendrils began to feel more solid, and yet even more slippery, and their caresses were pulling all semblance of thought from his mind. 

He shook, struggling to remain standing. The tentacles teased his cock—unwisely, he'd held off on masturbating for a full week in preparation for tonight. If I blow my load before she even shows up... 

As if on cue, the candles flickered. The circle started to glow, and the tendrils emanating from it intensified their efforts. His knees started to buckle. "Annuisetvio...Annuisetvio!" 

The candles went out. 

He heard feminine laughter. 

~~~~ 

Annuisetvio—now known as Anne—watched as the spy Claire was exposed to the room full of Chosen knights. The succubus smiled. Soon, Claire, too, would understand. That made Anne so happy. 

Each of her hands was occupied with the dick of a soldier. She pumped up and down, beaming as they groaned with pleasure. It felt so good to serve her rightful masters. 

Once, her naughty, sinful demonic spirit had railed against such ideas. Fuck servitude! her old self would have screamed at her. You know what feels good? Fucking their stupid mortal brains out! 

She smirked. Her silly old side was still inside her, but the smart, wonderful, sexy Chosen Commander had sealed her deep down. She had learned her place. 

Sensing that the two soldiers were about to orgasm, her fingers sped up. She leaned over to one soldier and whispered incomprehensible nonsense into his ear. She leaned over to the other and murmured the exact same nonsense. They both stiffened. 

"Wh..." One soldier stared at her. "You stupid—aah! You stupid whore! What'd you do? I can't cum!" 

She only laughed innocently. She knew her place, and she knew what these soldiers wanted. 

"Hey!" The other soldier looked around frantically. "Somebody! The biiiiioh god oh god..." The pleasure was getting beyond what he could comprehend. In the hands of a succubus, even a handjob could be indescribably intoxicating, and these two were putty in her talons. 

She giggled again. And she was putty in theirs. "We're gonna keep fuckin'..." she cooed, "forever an' ever an'..." 

At least, until one of the other soldiers put a stop to this. But judging by what was happening in the center of the room, that didn't seem terribly likely to happen anytime soon. 

Anne watched, her constant state of near-orgasm heightened as she watched the addled Claire get cast onto the floor. 

"She's all yours, men," said the Chosen Commander. Anne gave a tiny little orgasm at the sort of the Commander's wonderful voice. 

~~~~ 

"I did it!" Larya heard her master say. "I—I did it! The lust demon is mine!" 

Larya took a step back. She couldn't see a thing, but she smelled something really...really nice. It smelled like nutmeg, and incense, and...there wasn't any way around it. The musky aroma of a woman's sex hung like a wicked fog in the tower basement. 

"Fool." The voice echoed off the walls. Larya clutched the staircase rail, suddenly feeling faint. That was the most beautiful, melodic, sexy voice she had ever heard. It oozed with lust, with amusement, with the total awareness that anybody who heard it was about to be fucked very, very hard. 

Larya gulped. She'd never told her tutor that she was bisexual, but somehow, she knew that this otherworldly monstrosity was fully aware, and very, very happy about the fact. 

"I—" Solus's voice was small. He cleared his throat, speaking louder. "Demon! I summon you to bless me with pleasures unimaginable!" 

"Oh?" 

Larya felt her slit getting wet. The voice was too much for her, she knew. She started backing up the stairs, clumsily, haltingly, half not wanting to leave. 

Why am I feeling like this? she thought, eyes widening. It's just a...a voice... 

"Demon!" Solus shouted. "I present you with a sacri—aah! What—what is this?" 

"The tendrils. You summoned them, silly man." 

"They were—just a material component..." Solus was clearly having a great deal of trouble concentrating on his words. 

"Heh." 

Larya tripped and fell on her butt. She sat there on the stairwell, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. 

"Demon! I—oh, god—I command you to send aw-away these...tendrils. Agh! For now. Gnn! For a very short while. Oh!" Solus's voice came out shaky with his final modification. "F-for a minute." 

"Oh, why, when we're already having so much fun?" 

"Please! Oh, god, they're—make them stop! I command you!" 

"Mm. And why should I follow your orders, mortal?" 

The question seemed to jolt Solus, because he answered slightly more coherently. "I offer you a tribute, demon! The flesh of a virgin!" 

Larya blinked. Wait. No. 

"Oh? Those are always the most...entertaining." 

Get up! Larya's subconscious screamed at her. Run! Run! 

Instead, she felt her treacherous hands stray down her naked body and slide between her thighs. They started masturbating to the sound of the voice. 

"Let me...examine her." 

She felt the cloying scent of sex suddenly increase, and her fingers sped up their tempo. "Gnaaaa!" she moaned as she came to orgasm. Mind-controlled masturbation or no, it was the best sex she'd ever had. 

But, the sane part of her knew, not the first. Not by far. 

"Ooh. Pretty girl, you've already been tasted. No, don't stop fingering yourself. I like that. Mmm...just sit there and listen to me, sweet tits, while I wrap up some loose ends." 

Larya hesitated. Slowly, she started masturbating again. This time, she knew there was no mind control. She just couldn't help herself. 

"D-demon." If Solus had sounded nervous before, now he sounded terrified. "Th-the tendrils...oh, no..." He started outright moaning. 

"Sorry, little wizard. She's no virgin." 

Larya's free hand sped to her breasts and started twisting her nipples, as her fingers sped up. 

"What? No! I—" 

"You, on the other hand...heh..." 

There was a blinding flash, and Larya lost control and gave a scream of delight as she came again. Her legs and had were now covered in her juices, but she was still going. 

"Ooh!" This voice sounded younger than Annuisetvio's, about Larya's age. "Fun! A young one!" 

"Oh, yes," a similar voice cooed, "we'll take care of this one for you." 

"What—let go! No! NO!" 

There was another blinding flash. When Larya's vision returned, the candles were lit again. 

The succubus stood before her, smirking. 

"Alone at last," she purred. 

~~~~ 

Claire's face was a picture of idiotic bliss as the soldier Anne had fucked earlier, Belkir, descended upon her. She gave a happy moan. 

He laughed, drawing out the cylinder. "Brainless little slut." 

"mm...yea..." She giggled. 

He opened the lid. "Gonna show her what a real god feels like." 

She could only beam. Anne watched, her tail sliding over her ever-moist slit in anticipation. 

~~~~ 

The succubus advanced on Larya. She had long, curly red hair, shining crimson eyes, and a pair of breasts that put Larya's own fair-sized ones to shame. A long red tail flicked back and forth behind the demon. 

The succubus—Annuisetvio, Larya corrected herself. Her name was Annuisetvio. It seemed important to get the name right. Annuisetvio put her hands on her hips, surveying Larya. "Oh, yes," she hissed, her voice losing its echoing quality but none of its silky promise, "you'll do nicely." 

Larya stared up, utterly overwhelmed. She had never before seen anything so...erotic. From Annuisetvio's filthy expression to the way she had just looked over Larya like a piece of meat, this creature was lust incarnate, and it was about to act on its urges. With Larya. 

She felt like she should muster some resistance. "I..." 

She trailed off. What could she say? She was already fucking herself to this creature's beautiful voice. She didn't have any resistance to muster, and she never had. She had lost, and quite willingly. 

The succubus's smile widened. "Good girl. Yes, you'll do very nicely." 

She leaned down, cupping Larya's chin in her palm. Larya shuddered and orgasmed again, but kept thrusting into herself, faster and faster and faster and... 

"Tell me, Larya," she whispered, leaning closer to her lips brushed Larya's when she spoke, "how badly do you want to be fucked?" 

Larya stared back at her. 

She whimpered. 

~~~~ 

Two hours later, Annuisetvio left the magician's small home. She was grinning like a cheshyrbeast. That had been fun. She'd captured a would-be warlock, sent his apprentice to a land where she could...ripen... 

She noticed her tail twitching towards her cunt just thinking about it, and grabbed the errant appendage. "Down, girl," she cooed. "Don't—eh?" 

She looked around. The village was strangely empty. 

Strange, she thought. You'd think there'd be— 

What felt like a loop of molten iron suddenly wrapped around her throat. 

"Aah!" She collapsed, writhing, struggling to grab...whatever it was. Demons didn't need to breathe, but they rather liked to. Also, ow. 

"Got her!" a man's voice cried. "I've got her, Chosen Commander!" 

"Excellent." The voice was smooth, confident. Young. 

Male. 

Annuisetvio understood. Men. She gave a weak smile, despite the pain. Men she could deal with. She twisted on the ground to look at her attackers. 

No, not even men. Boys. Six of them, none above thirty in age. Her smile widened. This was too easy. 

"Demon," their leader said. His hair was short and black, his eyes gray, and he wore full plate. Inwardly, Annuisetvio smirked. He would be straining to get that armor off by the time she was through with him. "Demon, do you know who I am?" 

Annuisetvio knew the sort of game he wanted to play. He wanted to feel like the conqueror. "Y-yes," she whispered, adopting a mask of horror. "The..." What had they called him? "The Chosen Commander. Oh, no. No, please." 

"Stupid whore!" one of the men sneered. "You'll be beggin' for the opposite by the time—" He was silenced by a gesture from this 'Commander'. 

The Commander got on one knee and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Demon, you are the truest representation of sin." Oh, a fun one. Probably a virgin. "You are living proof that this town—and all lands unclaimed by the Chosen—are..." 

She tuned him out, concentrating on her right hand as it snaked towards an unnoticeable bulge in his trousers. The fool wasn't even wearing a codpiece! 

"N-no..." she fake-whimpered. "Please, I...I'll be good. So, so good. Isn't there anything I can do to persuade you to have mercy?" 

"Chosen Commander!" one of the soldiers cried. "Look out!" 

Too late! Annuisetvio grasped the man's bulging rod and— 

Something was wrong. 

The man was smiling. 

She pulled on the 'cock', and it popped out of the false loincloth. Behind the loincloth was solid armor. This man was not a fool. 

She held in her hand a long ceramic cylinder. She frowned at it. Some of the symbols on it were vaguely familiar. They reminded her of...what was it? "What..." 

And then she remembered. Screams. Torn wings. Scores of succubi and incubi fleeing, throwing their comrades down just to buy themselves a bit more time to escape. Symbols on the walls of the innermost rings of the Second Circle of Hell pulsating like hundreds of heartbeats. 

"Do you want that so badly?" the Commander breathed. 

Giving a cry of terror, she tried to throw the cylinder away. It didn't budge from her hand. She flailed the hand like it was on fire, but the cylinder had attached itself to her skin like a terrible graft. 

The Commander kept smiling. She looked up at him, eyes wide, acidic tears streaming from her red eyes. The most horrendous thing was that his smile was...kind. Like he was doing her a favor. 

And then, he spoke. A word which she could not and never would understand. A word that no human had any right to know. 

~~~~ 

Anne smiled dreamily as the same word was spoken now by the thuggish Belkir. The cylinder was about to be activated again, and she couldn't wait to watch it claim another victim. 

The cylinder shook. The dying words of a thousand gods rang in the room. Gods of masculinity. Gods of obedience. Gods of lust. 

She beamed brainlessly, still effortlessly jerking the a soldier off in each hand. They were still moaning, unable to come until she willed it (which would not be for hours yet, if she had anything to say about it!). 

Those words...seemed...familiar... 

The memory came rushing back to her, and for an instant, she paused her merciless ministrations. The Reality. 

Her lands had once had gods. Many, many gods. Hell, Heaven, and the mortal worlds had them. So many gods, each dearly beloved by at one mortal. And then...the Reality. Something had happened and they had died. To learn the Reality of their fate was known to be a fate worse than death. Mostly, the people of this world and hers tried not to think about it. Indeed, they tried not to think of the gods at all. 

And something strange happened to her, as she remembered this. 

She heard the dying words of Amnia, the goddess of lust, humiliation, and femininity. Her goddess. The last words any mortal or demon had ever heard her speak: 

Ooh. That feels...nice... 

The succubus blinked blinked. 

~~~~ 

Glowing tentacles poured out of the canister's lid. Claire squirmed eagerly, presenting her sopping cunt for all to see. 

Belkir held the tendrils just out of reach of her crotch. Claire squealed. "Ooh, yes! Yes, please! Yes!" 

Belkir leered at her. "You want this? You want this, my little slut?" 

"Yes! Yes!" 

"You want it in your hot little pussy. Don't you? It's gonna fuck your mind to mush, just like you all really want!" 

"Yes! In! In! In!" Claire couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to think. She just wanted that thing inside her. She knew she'd always wanted it inside her. 

And Belkir obliged. 

The tentacles surged into her pussy. Claire shook, but several of the big, strong men she so wanted to serve were there to hold her down. She writhed helplessly, screaming with wordless bliss. 

The tendrils kept coming in, more and more, tickling and throbbing and oh god she was cumming... 

"This is you!" she heard Belkir roar. "This, on the table, is all of you! The Chosen Commander showed you, didn't he?" 

Claire could only grin, completely devoid of thought, as she came, and came, and came. 

~~~~ 

The Goddess let out a loud moan as Yillit entered the room. One of the more talented new priestesses was currently occupied, her head emitting loud slurps from between the Goddess's thighs. 

Yillit alone looked straight at the 'Goddess'. He wasn't a member of this kingdom's faith. He knew how things really were. And right now, he wasn't sure he liked what he saw. 

The little gray-skinned creature scampered over on all fours and got to his feet, waiting. His long ears twitched. 

"Oh!" the Goddess squeaked. "Right there, yes, yes, good, good! Keep tonguing...and...OH! OH YES! OH YES!" 

The priestess kept licking, moaning alongside her Goddess as she came in sympathetic ecstasy. 

Yillit tapped his hairy foot impatiently. 

Finally, the Goddess recovered enough to open an eye and notice her adviser. "Oh...mm...Sister Riel, go wait in the other room, mmkay?" 

Not looking right at the Living Goddess, Riel crawled out of the room. No doubt she'd have to go finger herself off in private. Not for the first time, Yillit wondered why the humanoids didn't neuter their firstborn. It made ruling a kingdom so much easier. 

"Ahem. Yillit, I trust you have a good reason for interrupting some of the best tongue I've gotten since Claire left?" 

Yillit crossed his arms. "It's about Claire, actually. She got found out." 

The Goddess—or, as he knew her, Emily—blinked. "Oh. That's...that's terrible." 

"Uh-huh. Funny thing is, I thought we'd agreed to put anti-hypnosis charms into the other fake bracelet." Yillit glared. "Instead of a sound recorder." 

"Oh, but Yillit..." Emily's hand glowed, and a marble appeared in her palm. Screams of bliss emitted from it. "...you know I can't resist good audio porn." 

"Turn that off!" Yillit shrieked. The diminutive creature leaped up onto Emily's arm, grabbed the marble, and shook it until the sounds died. "You think this is funny? God of Sharp Teeth and Eyes, Emily, I knew her! Claire was my friend, and your loyalest priestess!" 

"Relax, Yillit." Emily waved a hand. "Thanks to the intelligence that marble's provided, we know exactly where the Commander is headed. As soon as Snatch and Larya get back from some silly ghoul mission they were on about, we'll send them and some of our own agents, catch the Commander, and make him pay." 

"And Claire?" 

"We can fix her. The Conversion relies on conditioning to sustain itself, and there are always chinks." 

"And what about her emotional state?" Yillit sprang off his old adventuring buddy's hand and landed back on the floor. "That girl's been through enough hell without you using her as a pawn!" 

The last word got a bit louder than Yillit had intended. He winced. 

For a long while, there was silence in the chamber. 

"Yillit." Emily the False Goddess's voice had grown quiet. "You've beaten me at enough games of chess to know that not every pawn gets to become a queen." 

Yillit's eyes widened. Trembling with anger, he picked up his cane and left the room. 

He didn't care what Emily said. Claire could still be saved, but only if he hurried. Once conditioning got to a certain point... 

~~~~ 

"You've done good so far," Belkir hissed in Claire's ear. 

Claire shuddered as the tentacles worked their magic. "uh-huuuh..." 

"Real good." His hands toyed with Claire's breast, and she let loose another screaming orgasm. Wen it subsided, he continued. "Ready to go all out? Or...all in?" 

He stood up, and Claire saw his bulging, throbbing cock, dripping with precum, descending towards her gasping mouth. Her eyes and mouth both widened, and she smiled dumbly, ready to receive her final initiation. 




Exposed Ch. 02



Across the room, two men screamed in orgasm—and did not stop screaming.



Exposed Ch. 03



Despite my new found penchant for wanting to be told to strip outdoors as well as my post orgasmic commitment to change my lingerie wardrobe, not much happened the remainder of that summer.

I was getting ready to start college and my boyfriend was working full time and lived on the other side of town without having his own car.

Circumstances just weren't in our favor to expand on our first experiment in outdoor exhibitionism.

Although it certainly became my favorite memory for masturbating.

However, since many of you readers enjoy a little more provocative tale, let me share with you another experience that definitely influenced my sexual future.

When I did see my boyfriend our usual routine was to see a movie, followed by a visit to a local hangout for fries, and then some passionate kissing in the front seat of his parents car, before I reluctantly said "Good night" and walked up the sidewalk to the front door of my house.

On one of these nights, we arrived at my house earlier than usual and began our necking routine.

As we had more time than we normally did, the kissing became quite intense with my boyfriend moving his entire body up against mine.

I could feel his erection pressing against my lower abdomen.

As we continued to kiss he started to grind himself against me allowing me to feel his entire shaft and swollen head rubbing up and down on my stomach.

I moved myself forward so his grinding motion would begin against my pubic bone and then work its way up towards my belly button.

Although he wasn't pressing directly against my very swollen and moist lips, it still felt extremely arousing to have him grinding up and down the front of me.

As our body motions began to sync so that I was moving my lower torso down as he was moving his erection up, his grip on me became vise like and I felt the first spasm of his soon to soak orgasm against my stomach.

I honestly didn't know exactly what was happening. Neither one of us was very experienced in sexual matters.

But it felt good as one spasm after another radiated against my stomach.

I pushed against him as hard as I could to feel every little convulsion as his hot exhalations of breath caressed my neck.

Something really sexy was happening and I wanted to know exactly what.

When he was finally done, he moved back away from me and I couldn't help but to look down at his lap.

The front of his pants had an enormous wet stain that covered him from waist to crotch and almost to both front pockets.

OMG, I had no idea the amount of fluid that could be exuded from an erect penis.

I was astounded.

He was so embarrassed by his large wet spot and asked if he could come inside to wash the front of his pants off.

I said "Sure." not wanting to admit how turned on I was by it all.

It is funny to remember how nonchalant and experienced I acted when in reality I had no idea as to what exactly had happened other than an enormous amount of liquid had exploded out of his penis.

Except for the distinct and earthy odor of his semen, I would have thought that he had accidentally peed.

I kept thin thinking that I had caused this incredible liquid eruption. I felt so sexy and grown up.

As we walked to my house, he untucked his shirt to hide the stain.

Thankfully my parents weren't home so he could easily slip into the bathroom to clean himself off.

Two of my sisters were in the living room at the time, so I sat down with them. I told them that my boyfriend had to use the bathroom before he drove across town to his home.

They may have suspected something, but it certainly wasn't something that any of us would talk about.

When my boyfriend came out of the bathroom, he looked fine with his untucked shirt hiding the now large water mark on the front of his pants.

I kissed him at the door and he headed home.

That night I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened and became quite determined to somehow see his erection along with an ejaculation.

As I said before we were both very naive and raised in very sexually conservative environments, so this wasn't a matter of simply unzipping his pants.

I had to plan my moves so as not to give any false signals, but at the same time to sate my overwhelming curiosity.

For now my exhibitionist desires had been put on hold.

Summer soon turned into Fall and any opportunities for erection exploration were indefinitely put on hold.

I was doing miserably in an all girl's college and my boyfriend was still living at home and commuting to college each day.

He now had his own car, but still lived on the other side of the city.

We only saw each other about once a month, although like most teens, we talked on the phone almost every day.

Then another momentous change took place.

After my first semester in college, I knew that I was not cut out for higher learning and dropped out despite my parents encouragement to give it another semester.

I found a job as a dental assistant; a short bus ride from my home.

Being finally free of school as well as earning a living matured me in so many ways. I felt that I had finally grown into full womanhood and despite my parents insistence that I still live at home, I was an adult.

At the same time, my boyfriend moved out of his house to share an apartment with a brother and a mutual friend just off campus.

He was now no more than 12 minutes from my front door.

Now every weekend we could see each other as we attended numerous college parties and get togethers, often finding ourselves at his apartment albeit for only a short time afterwards.

And usually at least one of his roommates was home.

When they weren't however things were quite a bit different.

We would often sit on the floor, as there was no money for furniture other than a couple of kitchen chairs and a table, listening to music and making out.

The threat of having either of his roommates walk in on us at any time kept us pretty safe, however there was no doubt that we both had some primary goals or should I say desires impelling us forward.

I wanted to see his erection, and surprise, surprise, he wanted to see me in my undies.

We would always start to make out and sooner or later would find ourselves kissing each other's bare stomachs as both of us would pull the other one's shirt up.

I would use this opportunity to pull his pants away from his body so as I kissed his lower abdomen, I could look down the gap created and see the swollen head of his erection pushing against his tidy whities.

So why didn't I just unzip his pants and pull it out?

Remember that this was all new to me and for now all I wanted was a peak.

When it was his turn he would create the same gap to catch a glimpse of my usually white hipster panties.

As the winter began to turn to spring our hands began to explore a bit more. What do they say "familiarity" breeds? Well in this case it bred much longer look sees and explorations.

Now I was sliding my hand inside of his pants wrapping my fingers around his throbbance exploring its length and shape.

I loved how warm and smooth his skin was and knew that it was just a matter of time before I would have the courage to unwrap it completely from its cloth enclosure.

His hands also went on explorations as he slid them inside my often too tight pants requiring a button to be unbuttoned and a zipper to be pulled.

I loved how it felt to be undressed knowing that at any time my exposure might be discovered by an unintentional audience.

It was right about this time that I began to fulfill a promise that I had made to myself almost 10 months prior.

I'm not sure whether this drug store even exists anymore. It was one of those neighborhood drug stores that carried everything. I mean everything.

At the time it was known as a five and dime as opposed to a drug store.

My dental assistant job was virtually across the street from this store, so it was quite simple to walk over during my lunch hour and peruse their selection of novelty panties.

I had been in the store many, many times over the previous years and always found myself looking at the colorful bikini style panties with various appliqués or stitching on them.

I always wondered who would wear such sexy styles as the person who wore them must certainly want them to be seen.

Now here I was, that person, going through the folded piles of panties concealing my own secret desire to be seen wearing them.

On this particular occasion the knot in my stomach was the size of a grapefruit. Sure I had shopped for panties before, but I was always accompanied by a sister or my mother.

My eye always focused on the brightly colored fabrics and teeny, tiny styles. However when a member of your own family is standing right by your side, it greatly inhibits a person choice of underwear: at least it did me.

This time I was by myself, was a working woman, and had found a long hidden desire to show off.

I wasn't just buying underwear; I was fulfilling a penchant for exhibitionism. I was picking out a scanty, barely concealing, wispy piece of material to be seen in.

I was satisfying my need to be sexy and scandalous.

As I picked through the numerous panties in all colors, some with cute little animal or insect appliqués, I suddenly found the perfect set. They were nylon bikini style panties in seven different colors each with a day of the week embroidered on them.

Sunday was white with pink stitching.

Monday was pink with red stitching.

Tuesday was light green with yellow stitching.

Wednesday was light blue with blue stitching.

Thursday was yellow with green stitching.

Friday was red with black stitching.

And Saturday was black with red stitching.

I believe that all seven sold for less than $10 and none of them had a lining. They were 100% nylon.

My entire body reacted to the thought of wearing such sexy and fun undies. After all why would they put writing on each front if they weren't meant to be seen.

I felt embarrassed as I took them to the front counter to pay for them. The older sales woman knew me from all of the previous times that I had been in the store, only this time I was buying panties in all colors with the days of the week embroidered on each one.

I had become the type of person who would wear panties with words stitched on them.

She looked over my purchase saying, "These are really cute." making me feel more grownup than I really was.

I couldn't wait to get home to try them on. Waiting for the bus home at the end of my day was agonizing. Once it arrived and I got on, I kept wondering what any of the other passengers would think if they knew what I had in my shopping bag.

I am sure that most of you reading this would think what is the big deal. But to me buying bikini panties in assorted colors with the days of the week embroidered on them felt absolutely scandalous.

Once I arrived home I quickly locked myself in the bathroom and slipped out of my dental uniform and white cotton panties.

Slipping on the first pair of thin nylon was like the first time I ever masturbated.

My entire body came alive as I pulled the nylon material into place. It hugged every little curve and mound showing off my 19 year old body almost as if I were naked.

My trimmed pubis pushed against the fabric revealing the course hair hidden underneath.

I turned around to see my firm little cheeks tightly encased in the nylon fabric as it stretched suggestively between them.

I had rarely worn nylon panties before(only the few times that I stole a pair from my older sister's drawer) and was a bit overwhelmed and completely aroused at how they looked on me.

I couldn't help but to try on every color loving how they felt on my skin.

Most of all, I couldn't wait to wear them on my next date.

My first desire had now been fulfilled; I had sexy undies.

Summer had finally arrived and I was no closer to seeing an erection, but I had an idea.

The five and dime not only carried a selection of women's undies, but they also had some very sexy men's styles as well.

Now as I am sure you know, most women never try to force things or do whatever it might take to get there way. Yah, right!

It had occurred to me that a small bikini style of brief for my boyfriend might result in the head of his swollen penis sticking out from under the fabric giving me a very nice look at least a portion of his erection.

According to the photo on the package, they fit low on the hips and well below the navel. they seemed perfect for what I had in mind.

Keep in mind that I had spend most of my life to this point attending all girl institutions of learning. Despite any rumors to the contrary for the most part we knew very little about sex and had to improvise to educate ourselves.

At the same time we had to maintain the perception of being ladies and always adhering to proper decorum.

Despite one's strongest impulse a lady doesn't unzip a boyfriend's pants and yank out his throbbing erection so she can get a good look at it.

Things of this sort must be attended to in a very subtle and seemingly unintentional way.

My devised method was to provide my boyfriend with a very sexy present that should result in the glimpse of firm flesh that I was seeking.

I felt so very deliciously devious as I took the pair of bikini briefs to the cashier.

My days of girlhood where quickly coming to an end and I loved how it made me feel.

I took them home hiding them in my shoulder bag, and then wrapping them in a decorative bag with my bedroom door closed . 

On friday I had a date with my boyfriend where I was resolved to give him two presents i.e. a good look at my friday panties and his own pair of bikini underwear.

The rest of the week couldn't go by fast enough.

Friday arrived and I put on my red bikini panties with Friday embroidered in black thread on the right front.

I had a matching red triangle bra without any padding or inner wires. The underwire styles of bras were to come a few years later in my life.

As I glanced in the mirror at myself, the knowledge that I intended to show my new bikini panties to my boyfriend brought a most delectable sensation to my lower erogenous zone.

My throat went dry and despite my arousal, I was extremely anxious regarding my intentions.

After all isn't this exactly the type of thing that a girl with loose morals would think about.

However at 19 years of age, that inner voice of consciousness was quickly silenced by a teenagers impulsiveness.

Too bad that this same carefree spirit didn't continue into motherhood, but then that is a topic that will be covered in later chapters. 

I liked the new me and despite my ingrained reservations I was determined to let me be me.

Over my undies I put on a very short navy blue mini dress with a flower pattern and white lycra short shorts underneath.

Despite my growing independence, my mother still insisted on saying something about my choice of wardrobe, particularly prior to my dates.

As I came downstairs to wait for my boyfriend, she greeted me with, "Elizabeth, That dress is way too short. You will be showing off everything."

Now I have a fabulous mother, and being a mother now myself, I fully understand that she was simply trying to make sure that I always portrayed a proper image.

She had slowly accustomed herself to her daughters wearing mini skirts and short dresses, but still felt the need to comment when something seemed unusually short.

My response was to laugh as I pulled the hem of my dress up showing her my lycra short shorts. 

"Mom, I'm wearing shorts underneath. No one is going to see anything." I lied.

She still thought the shorts were too tight, but at least my undies weren't on display.

I purposely didn't keep my dress up for long as the red outline of my bikini panties was clearly visible through the white shorts.

Just as I let my hem back down, my boyfriend pulled up to the curb in front of my house.

"Be back before 11:00 I yelled as I ran out the door."

The moment I climbed into the front seat I asked, "Do you like my dress?" My boyfriend's response was just as I hoped.

"It's really short."

"I know. But I have shorts shorts on underneath. See."

I pulled my dress up to show him my white lycra shorts.

His smile was my excuse to tease him.

"If I wasn't wearing the shorts, you could easily see my new undies." And with that said, I lifted my bottom up and off of the seat and pulled the white lycra shorts down my legs and over my feet.

My bright red "Friday" panties were now on full display.

I watched as my boyfriend's eyes glued themselves to my red covered crotch enjoying every second of his lecherous gaze.

"Look they even tell you what day it is." I continued pushing my hip forward so he could see the black embroidered letters.

The lump in his throat as well as his pants told me all I needed to know.

"I don't think that I will be needing these tonight." and I threw the white shorts into the back seat.

The entire trip to the movie theatre I watched my boyfriend continuously look at my bare thighs and barely visible red mound.

My lower lips were spasming giving me the feeling of teeny tiny orgasms.

When we got to the theatre, my boyfriend asked whether I was going to put my shorts back on. 

"Then no one would know what day it is." I responded with a laugh.

I loved how nervous he was knowing that others in the theater might see my panties and at the same time excited to be with such a sexy girl.

When we sat down in the theater I pulled my dress up just high enough to show him the word "Friday" bringing another big smile to his lips.

Once the lights went down and the movie started I pulled my dress up to my waist revealing my red panties from crotch to hip.

I don't think that my boyfriend ever thought that his almost year ago request for me to remove my shorts by the lake would unleash such a desire to be so daringly sexy.

He loved to see me being so teasingly enticing, but at the same time I could tell that he was worried about the new edition of me.

As with most young men of his age, he wanted me to be the sexy, carefree girlfriend when we were not surrounded by other people; kind of his own private pin up.

However when it came to me being the daring one, it made him uncomfortable. 

I on the other hand loved the new me. The feeling of being a confident, independent, working woman with a very sexy side was perfect.

I wanted to strut my stuff.

For the entire evening I didn't care whether my undies were showing or not. I just wanted to have fun.

I was not going to be one of those women who choose to wear a mini dress, but then spent the entire time making sure that my knees were tightly together.

I certainly didn't spread my knees apart giving "crotch shots" to everyone, but at the same time, I didn't spend the entire evening worrying about who might be looking up my dress.

I looked sexy, felt sexy, and wanted to act sexy.

After the movie we went to a diner style restaurant and sat in a booth. Just the act of sliding into the booth turned so many faces towards my opening legs that I had to laugh.

I loved the attention that my flash of bright red was attracting.

The nervous tingling flowing through my body was absolutely intoxicating. I was on this incredible high and never wanted to come down.

Alas, all good things must come to an end and it was time to go home. However I did have one final surprise for my boyfriend.

When we pulled in front of my house and he turned off the car, I reached into my shoulder bag and brought out a little decorative bag with a bow on it.

"This is for you." I cooed.

Opening it up his eyes went wide with embarrassed delight as he pulled out a royal blue bikini brief.




Exposed Ch. 03



In the beaten-down tavern known as the Holy Word, a long struggle of wills at last began to come to a close.

Belkir stood over the kneeling woman. Once, she'd had a name, not that he'd ever bothered to learn it. Now, to him and all, she was just another whore: property of the Chosen Commander. And his entire army, of course.

As she strained to reach his throbbing cock with her plush lips, he gave a wide smirk. Her long golden hair was slick with sweat as, below, the tentacles raged in her pussy. Those were what had reduced her to this mindlessly horny state.

Every woman was just a slut in denial, Belkir knew. He'd always known this, ever since his father's murder fifteen years ago, and the Chosen Commander had only reaffirmed his belief. This particular woman, for instance, had just fifteen minutes ago been a devout spy for the so-called Living Goddess. Just a few minutes with the Chosen Commander had...cured her of that delusion. The Commander had left Belkir to finish the job.

This whore needed to be owned. Taught her place.

He dangled his cock inches from her mouth. "You want this?"

She let out a hoarse moan, but the two soldiers behind her had her arms held fast. Try as she might, she couldn't quite reach. He let out a gleeful giggle. Once he let her wrap her lips around his dick—once he unleashed his seed into her hot body—she would be theirs. The Conversion would be complete. And then he'd really get to work on her. "You want this, you horny little slut?"

From behind him came a feminine voice. "Lust."

Belkir blinked. "Hey, that the pet...suckabus thing?" He started to crane his head to look, but he couldn't resist keeping his eyes on the whore before him. Just seeing how desperate she was...

She looked up at him, lips puckered, as if those few extra millimeters would allow her to reach her prize. No. No, he wouldn't turn around.

The two men holding the woman in place were staring straight ahead, eyes wide. They didn't say a word in answer.

One of the men suddenly collapsed with a moan, clutching at his crotch. Belkir noticed the man's pants were already drenched, and he laughed. "Can't take the show, eh? Well—"

"Lust."

The other guard collapsed with an equally horny cry, and the slut's arms were free. Before Belkir could react, the woman lunged forward. She grabbed his cock and opened her mouth wide—

"Stop!" he cried reflexively. The woman froze in place, lips mere inches away.

Belkir stared at her. What the hell is going on? She stared back up, big brown eyes full of innocence.

Shuddering, he started to turn around.

And stopped.

After a moment, he let out a tortured moan. His head swung back around.

The slut hadn't taken him into her mouth. Instead, she'd started licking him, covering his cock in her slick saliva.

He trembled, struggling to remain upright. He wanted to tell her to stop. He needed to turn and see what was going on. But it just...didn't seem as important. Even when he heard a few men come in and give shouts of alarm...didn't seem...

He let out a sigh, falling to his knees. The slut took the opportunity to double her efforts, pushing him to the ground.

Around him, his men were collapsing as the voice kept speaking. He felt a bit of liquid—was that blood?—spatter onto his shoulder, and still he couldn't do anything. A mid-Conversion was too powerful. This slut was too powerful.

She'd overpowered him, he realized dimly. A dumb slut. A bimbo. Overpowered a man.

"No..." he whimpered. But she just kept licking. He hadn't ordered her to stop, had he?

Yes, said a voice in his head. His eyes widened. The voice was warm and smooth, like hot honey. He felt it pouring into his head. Making him...slow.

He heard a hissing sound from behind, but couldn't get up to look. So he raised his head to look straight 'down'. The slut looked back up at him and waggled her eyebrows. Her tongue lapped up some precum, like a cat lapping up water. He shuddered and looked back up at the ceiling.

She didn't even know she was breaking him. The stupid whore didn't even know what she'd done. He heard her giggling between licks. She probably thought she was doing his bidding—that her man was still in control.

Oh, at least put up a fight, the voice teased. Belkir felt a warm presence coming up from behind, but he still couldn't rise. He shivered as the slut's tongue flitted delicately over his sensitive glans.

"M-m-my...men..."

I was in a hurry. Though if this is all the resistance I can expect... Sharp-nailed fingers danced across Belkir's chest, undoing his shirt buttons. I know I shouldn't, but I just gotta try you. Still so damn horny.

He stared up at the ceiling. The honey voice was laced with lust, and desire, and it was so tempting to just lie there and listen...

The words of the Chosen Commander suddenly rang in his head. Put them in their place.

"No!" he cried. He reached down to grab the slut's head, to force her all the way down—to end this game—

"Stop." The voice was calm, now. Firm. Still a little lusty. And out loud. It could not be disobeyed.

Belkir went still. He felt the fingers gently push him back onto the hardwood floor, and he did not try to rise again.

"Smart boy." The fingers tickled his bare chest as they gracefully peeled off his shirt—just as sticky with sweat as the slut's hair had been, he dimly realized. "You don't exactly want to fight this, do you?"

The slut's tongue ran up, all the way up along his shaft. He couldn't hold in his moan. Amid the squelchings of the tentacles still in her cunt, he heard her moan back. Just the fact that she was giving him pleasure was enough to nearly send her into orgasm.

"It turns you on, doesn't it?" the voice whispered. Two fingers pinched his nipple. "Giving her so much pleasure."

"Uh...what?"

"Oh, yes. Oh, yes." And the voice was so silky, so smooth and full of eroticism, that Belkir found he couldn't argue with it. "You could make her come right now, you know. She'd be absolutely helpless to resist your pleasure."

"Unh..." Belkir shook as the slut below began planting kisses on his shaft head. He could tell from her growing moans that she was approaching orgasm, that she desperately wanted to take him in her mouth, or her cunt, or anywhere. "No...I mean, yeah..."

"Mmm." The voice took on a patronizing tone. "It's so hard to decide, isn't it? You're so horny, and...mm...so desperate..."

Was it Belkir's imagination, or was the voice starting to sound a bit...bothered?

His eyes rolled up into his skull as he felt his whore's supple lips just barely settle on his cock head, her tongue darting out and coating it in a fresh coat of saliva before she pulled off again. All the while, she was gasping, panting. She gripped his legs, hands warm and sticky.

"She wants it so...so, so bad. And you want so bad to give it to her. You want..." The voice got quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, it was almost a whimper. "oh..."

Belkir was shaking. He couldn't hold still. He could tell there was some weakness, some...some chance of escape...

"but so hard..." the voice said hoarsely, "...so hard to think about escape when this feels so—so so sooo good...oh, goddess..."

He began to hear sounds above his head. Sounds he knew well. The sounds of a woman pleasuring herself. His rational mind struggled to interpret this, but it felt like that part of his brain was drowning in pleasure, completely surrendered to the delicious, achingly-sensual voice.

"you've gotta give in," the voice gasped. "you gotta...gotta fill her up, gotta fill her with pleasure...oh, please...please...you wanna serve her, wanna make her scream...her pleasure is your pleasure...her pleasure is your pleasure...his pleasure is your...oh, fuck, I c-can't..."

He felt his mind cracking. Felt the honey pouring in, felt it flooding him, filling him—

Then he heard a familiar voice. The voice of the first soldier who'd collapsed.

"Wha'...what's goin' on?" Emmett. It sounded like the man was just coming out of some sort of stupor.

Another Chosen spoke. Jasper. "That slut...oh, gods, look! She's killed them!"

But Belkir could already feel his will melting—actually feel it bending over like a cheap whore beneath the succubus's overpowering voice. This even though the voice itself was little more than gasps and moans at this point. Serve her. Fuck her. Worship her.

Down below, Belkir's slut parted his legs wide and started licking his balls. She was almost whining at this point. Begging.

"begging for your cock," the succubus above moaned. "beggin for...oh, goddess...beggin for her man..." Her long-nailed fingers wrapped around his left wrist and pulled it up. "finish her...mm!"

And as the succubus's lips wrapped around two of his fingers and began sucking hungrily like they were the best cock in the world, she stopped speaking. The voice went silent. The honey stopped flowing.

Belkir blinked, trying to clear the haze. Something was sucking his balls. Something else was sucking his fingers. He smiled vaguely. It felt nice.

The mouth was yanked abruptly away from his fingers, and his arm fell limply to his side. Belkir stared up at the ceiling, his smile slowly fading. Shoddy woodwork. Rotting badly.

"Sir! Sir Belkir!"

"Get that whore off him!"

Suddenly, the sucking on his balls stopped as well. Belkir frowned. His head was...emptying. The honey was draining.

With a rush, his mind jerked back to wakefulness. He sat upright.

"That slut..." he gasped. "She...she bewitched me." He turned to Jasper, glaring. "I thought that bitch was fucking Converted!"

Jasper and Emmett were 'holding' the succubus.

To be more precise, they were standing next to her and watching her thrust her tail in and out of her vagina like a sped-up battering ram. The bitch had hypnotized herself back into submission. Emmett looked over at Belkir, exasperated. "She...was. She is!" He gestured to the creature, giving a wry grin. "Just look at 'er!"

Belkir did, and despite his anger, he liked what he saw. He raised an eyebrow. "Guess the demon whores need some extra taming."

He swayed slightly. He was still a bit...shaken. But he was also still extremely horny.

He walked over to the succubus and wrenched her tail out of her dripping cunt. She gave a whimper, reaching for it plaintively like a child deprived of its favorite toy.

"You dirty little bitch."

She just moaned, reaching again for the tail. But she didn't try to contest his grip on it.

He gave a cruel smile.

Just then, he heard the other slut whining behind him. A hand feebly touched his ankle.

Belkir looked between his two surviving men. "Jasper. Emmett. We'd best not keep our new whore waiting."

Jasper and Emmett laughed, walking around Belkir. He heard them grab the girl and start dragging her to another room. She didn't resist, of course—just kept moaning. And kept squelching.

He reached over and locked eyes with the succubus. Her feeble attempts for the tail instantly ceased as she looked at his eyes, then at his cock.

"You want this?"

"Ooh." Her head tilted. "Ooh."

He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back, forcing her on her back. He slowly descended down, looking over his prize hungrily.

Then he plunged in.

~~~~

Anne—or Annui...something?—let out a scream as she was penetrated. Yes. Yes. This was what she'd forgotten.

She smiled vapidly as she heard her master screaming as well. Her...naughty self had ripened him well for her.

"Dirty whore!" she heard Belkir cry. She nodded eagerly as she bucked up against him, easily lifting his entire body with her hips.

He pounded back down on her with his big, wonderful cock, forcing her ass to the cold wooden floor. It didn't hurt, of course, but she gave a little cry anyways to please her master. He leered at her, and she beamed back. She was so lucky to have such a wonderful master.

Even in trying to resist, her naughty self had made her master happy. She would always make her master happy.

She felt her mind drifting back into the soft, moist place, and she eagerly let it all go.

~~~~

Ri watched through the window, her eyes wide.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "And they were so close."

But even succubi could not resist the Conversion.

The albino girl hesitated, adjusting her messy dark hair. She had to help them. She had to do something. Claire was the last friend—well, non-evil acquaintance—Ri had. And Anne...not even something like Anne deserved this. Soon the Chosen Commander would return from the scouting mission with the rest of the troop, and when he did...

She swallowed. Besides, she knew quite well she wouldn't last long in this inn without others to look out for her. Her bones were weaker thanks to her condition, and every time some men had their way with her...

Her jaw set. No. No more.

The albino reached into her pocket, stooping to pick up several stones from the ground. She loaded one into the sling she'd drawn. "No more."

"Oh, I've heard that before."

Ri spun to see four of the village youths. The youngest of them looked barely over eighteen. They all looked a mix of excited and unsure.

The speaker was a scrawny young man with bright red curly hair. He alone looked confident, with a big smirk on his handsome face and a big erection tenting his breeches."Looks like we've found a non-Converted, boys."

Ri took a step back. "N-no." She flashed a smile, trying to look flirtatious. "I'm just a dumb bimbo that just wanna serve! I—I just..."

"Oh, don't worry. You will." The red-haired man stepped forward, quickly closing the distance. Ri felt her back press up against the very window she'd been peering through moments before. "Because as honorable citizens of the Kingdom of the Chosen, it's our solemn duty to...hold you until a Chosen officer is available to have you...taken care of."

He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard, and she cried out from the pain. His smirk widened. He was about to say something else when—

"Hey! What's that here?"

Ri's heart soared with relief as she saw the obese bartender Otyu approaching. The man looked like he'd just gotten back from grocery shopping, as a wooden cart rested behind him. He frowned.

"Back off, fat man," the red-haired man said. "She's un-Converted."

Otyu's eyebrows raised. "The fuck you talkin' about, son?"

In that moment, Ri could tell he'd known.

She could also tell the red-haired man could tell.

"Aah, you're full of it," Otyu snapped. "And there's no touchin' my girls unless you mean to buy somethin'. 'Sides, she's down with a sickness. Whore's dirtier than usual, eh?"

Otyu had always had a soft spot for her, Ri knew. He hadn't ever beat her, which was more than she could say for most of her previous employers. Even before the Chosen had officially taken over, many had not gone easy on cripples and freaks like her.

But the red-haired man just smiled. "I think you'd better back off, fat man."

Otyu looked at him a moment.

The obese innkeeper hit his fists together, snarling, and they exploded into flames. "I think you'd better get the fuck away from my inn."

~~~~

Goblin's Note: And the catchup continuations...er, continue! Thanks for your patience!

Next Up: The fourth and final chapter of Exposed, as Claire's struggles at last come to an end! Demonic wills versus mystical enchantments! Elemental mystics versus random yokels! Ri finally doing something (possibly)!



Exposed Ch. 03



When he kissed me drawing me close, I could feel his erection pressed against my stomach and knew that it was just a matter of time before I had my first good look of his oozing appendage.

His hand reached down my back pulling on my mini dress so I could feel the hem slide from under my bottom allowing it to raise up my lower back.

I raised myself off the seat as best I could to free the fabric.

We still weren't to the point of exploring each other's crotches, but this too was just a matter of time.

I felt his hand slide across the back of my nylon panties causing me to press forward and rub myself against his swollen flesh.

I loved the feel of his hand on my barely covered cheeks wanting so badly to have him slide it between my legs.

At the same time I wanted to explore the length of his erection with my hand, but good girls didn't do that sort of thing.

Oh, how that would change as well.

Despite my growing independence and sexuality, I was still influenced by my conservative upbringing.

As I reminisce about these agonizingly small steps of sexual exploration I realize that they added to both of our excitement and anticipation.

Finally after undoubtedly creating another major case of "blue balls" for my boyfriend, I retrieved my white shorts from the back seat and exited the car.

As I stood up from the seat I gave a quick flip of my dress giving him one last look at my red tush and literally skipped into my house.

I was getting that much closer to seeing his erection, as well as showing off my new undies at work.

But I will save that for the next chapter.



Exposed Ch. 04



The rest of the summer pretty much duplicated our sexual cat and mouse game although he was getting longer looks and feels of my nylon covered assets and I was tactually exploring his erection by slipping my fingers down the front of his pants.

With the addition of his own bikini undies, I was able to not only see his swollen head poking out the top of the elastic band, but feel the warmth of his stretched skin along with his heartbeat rhythmically pulsing just under the surface.

I loved how firm he felt knowing that it was my sexiness that was causing this reaction.

As I think about it now, I can only imagine how frustrated he must have felt to have me lying on the floor of his apartment with my jeans wrapped around my knees and my lithe and nubile fingers playing his skin flute.

The poor man would ooze his opaque liquid causing me to wipe it with my finger letting its slickness slide between my thumb and forefinger.

I liked how it felt and knew that from what I had witnessed the one night after our date, that there was plenty more from where this was coming (Should I be spelling this 'cumming'?) from. 

In the meantime I was collecting more tiny pieces of nylon in a multitude of colors and patterns.

My undie wardrobe was expanding exponentially.

What I didn't realize is what the effect of my shopping was having at my place of employment.

I left college after my freshman year and was hired by our family dentist as an assistant and office administrator; probably the only way someone with no experience could get a position like this.

It was a two partner dental office and I soon found out both dentists were "dirty old men".

Not really in any bad way. It most aspects it was quite harmless as they enjoyed double entendres as well as young assistants in short uniform dresses.

The other dentist had two assistants as he performed surgeries along with standard dental procedures.

When I was interviewed I noticed that the other assistants all wore uniforms without the pants. Essentially they were mini dresses.

Being only 19 and used to wearing short skirts and dresses, I really didn't give it a second thought.

So on my first day I showed up in my crisp white cotton/polyester blend uniform dress with a zipper that went from my neckline to the hem.

As with all of my skirts and dresses, it was short; I mean very short.

As an assistant and office administrator I performed double duty which often had me assisting the dentist and when the phone would ring I would quickly leave his side walk out the door which was directly across from the reception desk, and with my back facing the dentist and the patient, I would bend over the desk and pick up the phone.

It took me over 6 months to realize that each time I did this the dentist and if it were a male patient would stop whatever they were doing and watch my routine.

My little bend forward resulted in my uniform dress to rise high enough on my derriere to show the bottom of my nylon covered cheeks announcing to the dentist and the patient what color and/or pattern of panties I was wearing.

I did have on white panty hose, but preferred the sheer to waist style, so not much was concealed as I innocently bent over to answer the phone.

So how did I finally figure it out?

As the ringing of the phone was not a constant probability the dentist eventually devised a more constant form of exposure for me.

Before the arrival of any patient I would be asked to pull his or her file leaving it on the top of the desk.

Of course now everything is retrieved through the computer and easily displayed on the computer screen often found in the operating room.

But this was then. 

Every time he had a male patient, once everyone was settled in the operating room, I would be asked to get the patient's file.

As I walked out of the room an unusual silence would fall between the dentist and the patient.

It turned out that they were eagerly waiting to find out what delectable color of nylon was hugging my taut little cheeks.

I could tell that something was up (Yes, I purposely meant to use this word.)

Over lunch when both dentists were gone, I told the other women that I worked with about the strange silence every time I walked out of the room.

They responded in unison, "Oh my God, Elizabeth, he has been checking out your underwear since you started working here." 

A crimson red color filled my cheeks as my entire face grew warm.

"What?" I replied in disbelieve.

"Honestly, you had no idea that every time you bent over your desk to answer the phone or to get a file you were giving everyone in the operating room a good look up your dress?" 

I felt like such an idiot and yet at the same time, it gave me a strange feeling of being in control and I felt excited by this.

These adult men in their 30's and 40's wanted to see up my dress.

I was trying to display my best imitation of scorn and disbelieve, but it all felt so grown up and sexy.

Then one of the other assistants said, "Who cares anyway? Let them have their little show."

I realized that I didn't have to pretend to be upset. My co-workers didn't think anything of it and I wasn't going to either.

As we all got to know each other better, on the particularly nice summer days after the dentists had left for lunch, we would often go up on the rooftop of the building and sunbathe in our bras and panties.

Later one of the other assistants confessed to me that she had been giving her dentist handjobs and blow jobs in-between appointments, and in return she would receive large bonuses with her paychecks.

I knew that my dentist would have loved a reciprocal arrangement, although he never came right out and asked.

I was still learning the ropes so to speak and never would have considered it anyway.

However here again it all made me feel so sexually grown up even though I had no experience to back up my feelings.

But that was about to change.

On a Friday in the summer, I had gone out for a lunchtime lingerie excursion and found a particularly tiny bright red string bikini.

It was thicker nylon than I was used to wearing almost like a swimming suit, but how it fit was incredible.

The front was well below the top of my pubic bone requiring me to shave off even more than I had become accustomed to. The back only covered about half of my cheeks creating very distinct panty lines whenever I wore anything tight. They were like a panty that hadn't decided whether it wanted to be a panty or a thong, and I loved them.

The entire time that I had them on I could feel the tight elastic stretched across my cheeks and between my legs resulting in a most delectable feeling in my lower erogenous zone.

If I pulled on the back to better cover my cheeks, then my booty smile was greatly exposed, and if I pulled them up to cover my exposed smile, the flesh of my round cheeks became exposed.

I essentially was aroused all of the time.

That Saturday, my boyfriend was over for dinner. As everyone was busy preparing the meal and setting the table, I took the opportunity to lure my boyfriend downstairs into our basement so I could show him my new red panties.

I don't remember any plan to lure him downstairs. It was pretty much instantaneous and impulsive.

I was feeling quite sexy and quite aroused.

Once we got downstairs, I turned to my boyfriend and said, "I want to show you something."

When I stepped out of my sandals, I had his attention.

I stared into his eyes as I loved to watch the change in his pupils and the look on his face whenever he saw my panties, and slowly brought my hands to the waist of my skirt unsnapping the button and lowering the zipper.

Once my skirt was undone I simply let go of it and with a little shake of my hips, it descended down my legs and puddled around my ankles.

I lifted one foot at a time and stepped out of it.

The sudden onslaught of damp, cool air raised goose bumps all over my bare skin as I watched my boyfriend's pupils grow very large and a very pleased and somewhat lecherous look overtook his countenance.

"You like?" I whispered with a sheepish grin spinning myself around to feed his view fore and aft.

My teeny, tiny red panties were starting to feel a bit moist against my skin, particularly between my legs.

I loved how it felt to be so exposed in front of him. My lower lips were quivering in response to my bold strip tease. 

Immediately he was on me pressing his groin firmly against my stomach while both hands grabbed tightly squeezing the exposed flesh of my derrière.

I had awakened the beast, which had been my intent all along.

His hands tightly squeezing my cheeks created a very new sensation for me. The vise like grip that he had on my bare skin hurt but in a very sensual way.

It seemed as if his raw passion and excitement resulting from my exposure was transmitting itself through his grip and I was feeling all of it.

My entire body was vibrating just like it would whenever I masturbated and was reaching orgasm. 

Surprisingly, I pushed him back taking a hold of the front of his shorts almost cooing, "Now its your turn."

I undid his belt slipping the end out from the buckle, unbuttoned the front of his shorts and then pulled his zipper down staring at my progress the entire time.

As his shorts descended in the same manner as my skirt had earlier, I was able to see the extent of his excitement as the tip of his erect penis was making its way out from under the elastic of his bikini briefs.

The entire front of his briefs was filled with erect flesh ending with a swollen mushroom shaped head.

I had no idea how to perform a hand job, but certainly recalled how he had ground himself against my lower abdomen the summer before resulting in a soaked front.

As I wrapped my hand around his shaft still enveloped in the fabric of his briefs, I unbuttoned the front of my blouse with my other one.

My boyfriend ended all of his activities and allowed me to take over.

Once my stomach was bare, I slipped the elastic of his briefs down to the bottom of his pulsating erection.

His entire erection was now exposed pointing straight up almost begging me to take a hold of it.

I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around his firm flesh and began to rub the very tip of his oozing penis against the flesh of my lower stomach sliding it across my navel.

I must have been doing something right as his eyes began to gloss over and he started to make a low murmuring sound.

I let go for just a second to completely open my blouse slipping it partially down my shoulders so the flaps wouldn't try to close.

I knew that if he erupted on me, that I needed to have all of my external clothing out of the way.

My skirt had been kicked away from my feet and now with my blouse completely open, I could get down to business.

As he pushed his groin into me I renewed my rubbing motion noticing that anytime the indenture located on the lower part of the ridge of his helmet touched my skin, his entire body would vibrate.

Obviously this was a sensitive spot, much like my nipples I thought, which were very erect I might add.

His ooze across my stomach created a slick surface to easily slide his pulsating member back and forth across my abdomen.

I liked how warm it felt in contrast to the damp cold air of the basement.

I looked down at his penis as I played with it noticing by his sounds what seemed to work and what didn't.

That little ridge just under the tip seemed to be the secret; so I concentrated my efforts there.

I slipped my fingers slightly up so my thumb could rub directly on this spot.

His breathing immediately took on a different tempo. It was more pronounced mixed with little moans of pleasure whenever my thumb would rub just below his ridge.

As his moans became louder his pelvis began to thrust forward and back sliding his penis up and down between my fingers.

I placed a hand over his mouth just as he let out a muffled, "Huh". His entire body went rigid as he threw his head back and arched forward pushing the tip of his penis into my stomach.

I looked down to see the first emission of white pungent liquid spray across my stomach.

I squeezed pushing the head of his erection tightly into my stomach as a squirt of goo was followed one after the other.

I had to use my other hand to form a cup under his penis to keep his erotic distillate from soaking my panties.

It was easily the sexiest sight that I had ever seen.

He had a lot of liquid and it was all over both of my hands as well as my bare stomach.

Before it could drip all over the floor, I raced into the laundry room emptying my hands into the laundry sink. Grabbing a towel from the laundry basket I quickly wiped my stomach just as my mother yelled down the stairs, "Dinner's ready."

I turned on the faucet and soaked the towel in water as my boyfriend joined me in the laundry room.

His penis was still pointing directly at me in a very luscious semi erect state.

I finished cleaning myself off handing the towel to him. It was so sexy watching him wipe his disappearing erection.

When he was done he grabbed me tightly into an embrace squeezing my buttocks once again. This was the first time that we had embraced with me wearing basically a bra and panties and him with his penis completely out of his bikini briefs.

It easily could have started another go around, but dinner was served and I had to get my skirt back on.

As he tucked himself away and pulled his shorts back up, I went into the first room retrieving my skirt and slipping it back up my legs while at the same time trying to button my blouse.

Once we were back in order so to speak we joined everyone for dinner.

The only telltale sign of our wonderful indiscretion was my red blotches. When I get very aroused the skin on my neck and breasts breaks out into red blotches. Obviously my breasts were covered, however my neck was completely covered in blotches.

No one asked about it although I am sure that my older sisters expected something had gone on in the basement.

My boyfriend on the other hand looked as fresh as a daisy even though just minutes before he had been ejaculating all over my stomach.

Men!

Once my boyfriend left for the evening I volunteered to do the load of towels in the basement to hopefully eliminate any final signs of our delectable debauchery.

My red panties had made quite a debut and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Next: Wednesdays become my favorite day and an explosive road trip.



Exposed Ch. 04



The four men were silent. So was Otyu. Ri looked between the two groups, swallowing.

On one side, four village youths—not one of the lot a day over twenty. Armed with knives, clubs, and a good deal of hormone-fueled adrenaline, and led by a smirking redhead.

On the other side, the morbidly obese innkeeper, Otyu, who'd just made his fists burst into flames with as much ease as one might crack their knuckles.

And Ri stood trapped between a wall and the redheaded leader's throbbing erection. The albino felt frailer and more vulnerable than ever.

The two sides stared each other down, and the only sound to be heard was the unrestrained moaning and screaming coming from within the tavern. Ri bit her lip. She had to get inside, now.

Then the red-haired man—barely more than a boy—charged at Otyu, drawing a long knife.

Otyu seemed caught off-guard, but the fat old man reacted with surprising speed. He swung at the attacker, his flames flaring up as if someone had splashed oil on them. Ri knew this had to be some sort of magic—barely controlled, but powerful.

His swing caught the youth on the shoulder, knocking the red-haired man back. Otyu rushed forward then, hitting again—this time aiming for the head. With a sickening crack, the red-haired man fell to the ground.

Ri felt slightly nauseous—the rather delicate woman had broken enough bones to recognize a broken neck on sight. And there was no mistaking that sound.

She snapped to attention, loading a stone into her sling. Glaring fiercely, she twirled the sling in the air and let loose at the boy nearest her.

Her aim was off, but at this range, that barely mattered. The small stone smashed into the man's skull. He remained standing for a moment, and as Ri couldn't see his face, she vaguely wondered if he was wondering why his brains felt somewhat more liquidy than before.

But he did fall.

Now there were two left. The boys—they were just boys, probably not even of age—looked between Otyu and Ri, filled with terror. They hadn't signed on for an actual fight. They'd just wanted to rape some trembling cripple.

Ri felt her blood boil as she answered their stares with a look of contempt. She loaded a second stone.

The boys turned and ran.

Ri's eyes bulged. She let the stone fly, and it winged one of them in the shoulder, but didn't drop him. They kept running, quickly going out of sight.

"Fuck!" she whispered.

"Ri."

She looked up. The big walrus of a man looked down at her, beady eyes narrowed.

"Otyu," she said. She hesitated.

Another scream sounded from inside, this time with words attached.

"oh, pleeeeeease..."

That was the voice of Annuisetvio, the ancient and terrible succubus who had brought ruin to the souls of thousands of men and probably quite a few women. Begging for a Chosen's approval.

Ri loaded a third stone and ran for the door.

"Ri, wait!" Otyu shouted. But he seemed too nervous to follow.

She swung the door wide.

The entire room stank of sweat, sex, and the olive oil-like smell that always accompanied the use of the Conversion. Five dead soldiers lay on the ground, each with a large puncture wound in his throat and each with his pants on around his ankles.

'Anne' lay on her back. The red-haired demoness was bent backwards almost at a right angle over one of the tables as Belkir, lieutenant of the Chosen, rammed his cock into her aphrodisiac-filled cunt. She was screaming. Begging in a language Ri didn't know—or perhaps just nonsensical gibberish at this point. The abyssal beauty clutched Belkir's waist, staring up into his cruelty-filled eyes.

"You're mine!" he snarled.

"oh yesssss..."

Ri felt the rage expand until it seemed to be all there was. Taking leave of all her senses—all the rules that had kept her alive for so long until now—the young albino swung the sling and fired.

This time, it was a perfect shot.

The white stone buried itself right in the side of Belkir's head, so neatly it almost looked more like an abnormal growth than a rock. His thrusting came to a halt as Anne gasped.

Belkir stared down at Anne. "I...smell birds."

He fell to the ground, his penis sliding out of Anne's cunt with a wet pop.

Ri blinked. She took a deep, shaky breath.

Anne screamed.

In a blur of motion, Ri found herself tackled. Anne gripped her by the arms so hard it hurt, her eyes blazing bright scarlet.

"You traitor! You little...little..."

Ri's gaze focused on the tail that was pointing at her forehead. A moment ago, it had looked like an exceptionally large dildo. It now resembled a razor-sharp dagger.

In that moment, Ri realized a few things. She realized that, in her haste, she'd forgotten how dangerous a Converted woman could actually be. She realized she'd just committed an act of brazen treason against the Chosen Commander in front of one of his most devoted disciples.

She realized that Anne was going to kill her.

~~~~

Emmett laughed shortly as he and Jasper dragged the mewling slut into the back room. "Hold the girl still."

The bitch—once a so-called 'spy' for the Living Goddess—was now begging hysterically for cocks in her every orifice. Her voice was slurred, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. Down below, Emmett could still see the tentacles writhing and wriggling in her engorged cunt.

He smiled at her as Jasper dropped her to the ground. "Feeling good, slut?"

"Unh!" The 'spy' writhed and squirmed helplessly on the floor, helplessly lost in pleasure but incapable of reaching orgasm.

"Oh, yes." Emmett leaned down, cupping her chin in his palm and pressing down on one of her large breasts. The brunette moaned, but he forced her still against the dirt floor. She didn't struggle. "Isn't this easier?" He leaned down, enjoying staring straight into her wide eyes, and spoke in the sort of way one would address a baby. "In't it easier wittout all dem tinkings?" He tapped her forehead, giggling.

"unh...oh please...ablhehg..."

Emmett turned to Jasper, laughing loudly. "She's a natural."

"We should get this over with," Jasper muttered.

"Aw, c'mon." Emmett deliberately rubbed the prostrate woman's breast as he spoke, flicking her nipple and enjoying her gasps of need. "You ain't looking forward to filling this slut like a...thing that you fill up?"

"The sooner she's Converted, the better."

"Seriously?" Emmett grinned down at the woman, who weakly grinned back. Not that she understood what she was smiling about. She was crying tears of bliss, desire and exhaustion. "Look at her. She's so far gone—"

"She's not ours until she has cum in her," Jasper snapped. "You know how it works. We need to hurry."

"Well, why take all the fun out of it?" Emmett whispered. He took his hand off her chin and trailed it down. He hovered around her dripping, tendril-filled pussy, and she seemed to jerk to attention.

"ooh! yes!" She wriggled in his grasp. "in! in!"

Suddenly, he got an idea. He grinned, turning to Jasper. "Hey, check and make sure nobody's out back."

Jasper crossed his arms. "There's nobody out back."

"Still. Maybe the innkeeper." Emmett rolled his eyes. "Go. Check."

"You're just gonna do something disgusting, aren't you?" Jasper groaned. "Just get the cum in her, got it?"

"Got it." Emmette laughed as Jasper reluctantly turned and left through the back door.

He slowly rose up, straddling Claire without entering her. He leaned down, whispering in her ear.

"You all full up, bimbo?"

She writhed on the floor. "ooh...pleasssse..."

"You're pathetic."

Her hips thrust up. "yesssss...ungh!..."

He rose up so his cock was right above the tentacle-gorged cunt, giving a nasty laugh. "Think you can hold me, too, whore?"

Her eyes lit up—and gave a curious green glint.

Before he could react, or perhaps wonder if this was a good idea after all, her arms shot out. Emmett vaguely realized they'd never bothered to bind the 'helpless' slut as her arms wrapped around his torso.

With shocking strength, she yanked him down into her. Her eyes glowed even brighter as she did so.

Emmett felt his cock slam into—

His jaw dropped.

Inside wasn't just the tightest, wettest cunt he'd ever rammed into—and he'd rammed into more than his share.

Inside was full of wonderful, squishing, squelching...things. They ran up and down his cock, tickling his balls as he instantly slid went all the way down to the shaft. They ran over him, wrapping around him, working up and down like a second cunt inside the first.

Oh, God. Oh god oh god oh—

He was beyond noticing the slut's little smile, or the intensity of the shimmery glow.

He came instantly.

And kept cumming,.

"Augh!" His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh, you little—little—oh, god!"

She smiled widely now, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down atop her. The slut seized him in a hungry kiss, her tongue invading his mouth hungrily, her lips devouring his face. Her hands worked over his body, rubbing him and pulling him, up and down and up and down into her hot, wet, magic-spewing pussy.

He gave a scream as the orgasm seemed to get even more intense. He couldn't control it. She was just—

He almost blacked out then, but something didn't let him. He stared at her, eyes full of sudden fear mingled with pure overwhelmed ecstasy.

Something that was not the barmaid stared back.

He tried to pull out of the kiss, but her hand was clutching his head, and something in his head just...didn't want to...think. Yes. Her lips smacked against his, and he heard a feminine chuckle. He didn't want to think anymore. And now that he realized that, he could feel—actually feel the thoughts fleeing his head.

And it felt like the best orgasm in his life.

He gave a stupid smile, eagerly kissing back the brunette beauty. She smiled back, eyes twinkling emerald with a look of inhuman triumph.

She flipped over then, pinning him against the dirt floor. His eyes near-bulged out of their sockets as she began bouncing up and down in his lap. She kept kissing him, and he kept forgetting, and the more he forgot the more he wanted to kiss, and the more he kissed the more he wanted to forget. It kept going until all thought left him and he could no longer remember his own name. And then he no longer had a name to forget.

The orgasm did not end. He was still screaming into the kiss. But now he felt something new.

He felt little things—wonderful, sin-filled things—creeping into him, whispering new facts and rules to follow, new loyalties to remember.

As Emmett ceased to be, and a new being formed, the glow seemed to leave Claire's eyes. She stared up, suddenly full of terror as the creature that had once been Emmett rose. As his penis slipped out of her, he saw that her cunt was completely empty now.

He staggered out, smiling broadly. The orgasm had not ended. It fueled him now—such pleasure had to be shared.

Claire lay there, stunned, stricken with the post-orgasmic bliss...and wondering how she'd gotten into the back room.

~~~~

Anne rammed Ri against the wall, and Ri gave a cry of pain. Anne glared at her, eyes glowing bright red. "You whore!" she said, her voice almost a whine. "You—you—"

The sharp tail was still hovering over Ri's head, ready to impale it at any moment. But Ri could see something else in Anne's eyes. "You...you, uh..."

Anne stared down at her, her voice trailing off. Her eyes glimmered with a sudden interest that made Ri very, very nervous.

Succubi were creatures of the purest, filthiest of lusts. They embodied sexual hunger in all forms. Exposing one to the Conversion had been tantamount to pouring dragon spit onto an abyssal inferno.

Ri realized that Anne was still feeling the orgasm Belkir had given her. And now that she'd had a taste, she was going to want more.

Anne's eyes began to take on a duskier hue—less like a raging inferno and more like the late sunset. Ri felt Anne's hands slowly trail down from her aching shoulders.

The succubus frowned, then, looking just a little bit confused. "i don't...I don't...um."

Ri felt one of the hands creeping down, tracing little circles on her belly, tickling her. She flinched, trembling with fear. That felt...weird.

Anne saw this and gave a smile—a smile half-Converted, half-not. "Don't be afraid, little girl," she whispered. "I'm going to take your worries away."

Ri was not "into" women.

The Chosen had always employed something of a double-standard in that bisexuality in females was regarded as quite desirable. It was something the Conversion tended to cause, in fact, though it was hard to tell when any order successfully followed seemed to put a Converted into endless pleasure. But Ri wasn't bisexual. Ri was as straight as a dagger, though she'd had to pretend otherwise from time to time to entertain her masters.

Ri wasn't bisexual.

So...why was this making her feel so...warm?

Anne kept drawing little circles on her belly, as her other hand crept further down still. Ri felt a cool finger touch her inner thigh, and gave a little cry.

"Shh." Anne leaned close, leaning her forehead against Ri's. "Let it wash over you."

"No..." But Ri was having trouble putting much force into the word.

Anne smirked. The redheaded succubus's lips parted as she began planting little kisses on Ri's lips, cheeks, and neck. Ri felt helpless to stop it. And she felt unable to make herself want to.

Annuisetvio had a funny smell. It wasn't sulfur, like the stories claimed. It was more like roses. Sickeningly sweet roses.

She slowly sank back against the wall, losing the battle against gravity and her own needs as the finger started creeping spider-like towards her suddenly moist pussy. She gave a soft moan, quickly stifled by a particularly long kiss on the mouth from Anne.

"Can't resist..." Anne whispered, her breath tickling Ri's ear.

Can't resist, Ri echoed mentally. Because she couldn't.

The finger slipped into her wet cunt and began rubbing against her clit. Ri let out a whimper, answered by a giggle from Anne.

The finger went in deeper. Ri felt her hips buck up against it as two more fingers slipped into her tight slit.

Vaguely, Ri began to understand.

Anne stopped tracing the circles, but kept rubbing inside Ri's slick pussy. She smiled as she lifted her hand to take the back of Ri's head. "You're mine now," she cooed.

"yes," Ri said, unable to stop herself.

It was like she was a prisoner in her own body, completely devoid of control. A second involuntary hip thrust only served to emphasize the point. And she wasn't just a prisoner—she was a refugee, hiding in what remained of her mind, struggling to maintain what little autonomy she could muster.

Anne's fingers slammed in again, and Ri gave a loud scream—again muffled by a kiss from the succubus that left her breathless.

Anne could still kill her here, she knew. She was a succubus. That was how succubi worked.

Ri felt Anne's tail twining around her neck, holding her even faster as Anne leaned in, continuing the kiss. She felt a forked tongue flitting about delicately in her mouth, though Anne's hungry lips were anything but delicate in their attentions.

The pleasure from the kiss, and the fingers, and the magic, and Anne's very presence...it was all building. She gave a quieter moan this time, struggling not to encourage Anne to kiss her again, knowing that with every kiss her will weakened more...

It didn't help. Anne grinned mischievously and kissed her again. As she did so, the fingers sped up their attentions. Ri gave a louder moan into the kiss, helpless to quiet herself.

She couldn't remember now what she'd been concerned about. She gave a gasp of pleasure as the fingers slammed in again, spasming helplessly on the cold hardwood floor. Anne pulled out of the kiss for a moment, rearing up.

Ri looked up at the demon above her—a beauty with flowing red hair, perfect pale skin, ruby red lips, and eyes glowing bright with lust and triumph.

Anne smirked at her. "Enjoying yourself, Ri?"

Ri keened, bucking her hips.

Anne laughed—cruelly, intelligently, completely devoid of the Conversion magic once more—and slammed four fingers into Ri's dripping cunt.

Ri gave a piercing scream of pleasure as she came, trembling and spasming, helpless in Anne's iron grip. As she screamed, she heard a sultry whisper in her ear. The beautiful voice only made the orgasm more intense.

"Thanks for waking me up, girl." A second orgasm hit as the forked tongue tickled the inside of her ear. "Consider this your reward."

"A-aaaanne!"

"You're mine now." Anne winked. Ri felt Anne's fingers pistoning in and out, seeking to prolong an orgasm that Ri began to realize wasn't going to end. "Be a good little bimbo for me and I'll keep fucking you for months to come. And I might even let you live at the end of it all."

She leaned close, and Ri nearly fainted as the orgasm grew in intensity. "Be a bad girl, or tell anyone about any of the naughty things I did to you..."

She jerked her fingers out and popped them into her mouth. When she pulled them out, the fingers were clean. She smacked her lips satisfactorily.

"You taste good," she husked in Ri's ear.

She got to her feet. "Come on. Let's get the hell out of here."

Ri lay on the floor, gasping for breath, shuddering in the post-orgasmic daze.

She knew she was in deep trouble.

She also knew she didn't want to leave.

So she stumbled to her feet, despite her trembling knees, and hurried after her new mistress. They had work to do.

~~~~

Goblin's Note: Okay, so I kiiiiinda lied a little bit. Sorry! Didn't mean to!

So, I thought this would be the final chapter. Then I was rereading it, and I realized...well, there should be a split. The next chapter isn't SUPER erotic, aside from some shen-Anne-igans, but it's deserving of its own section.

Next Up: The ACTUAL final chapter! Anne and Ri go get Claire as Anne starts having a little fun with her new pet.



Exposed Ch. 05



Soon my boyfriend and I had slipped into a routine where I basically became his pin up.

Every time we got together, he got to see what panties I was wearing. It is funny to think back to those days as they rarely involved any sort of sex other than heavy petting and having my nylon covered kitty and bottom rubbed, caressed, grabbed, slapped, and overall aroused.

I guess if I had had testicles I would have had my own case of "blue balls."

We both loved to get turned on until everything ached but still were reluctant to move any further forward than that.

We both had been raised to believe that any sort of pre-marital sex was wrong. We became experts at foreplay, and at least for me, I would masturbate to orgasm following most of our dates. 

Then it started to change as it pretty much had to. How often can two young persons of the opposite sex or of the same sex for that matter continuously become aroused together without a climax.

One night after one of our dates, we came back to my house after everyone was asleep. Because all of the bedrooms were upstairs, I felt pretty safe.

As we settled on the sofa in the living room our heavy petting session began. Very soon both of my nipples were throbbing and poking provocatively against the thin material of my triangle cup style bra. My lower lips were swollen brought on by my boyfriends rubbing of my crotch through my extremely tight white jeans.

His erection was pushed firmly against my thigh so I could actually feel his heartbeat as it pulsated begging for attention.

This time I wanted more, and didn't crd about any consequences.

Without really, after all we were in my parent's house, I pushed him away and walked into the dining room, depositing my tingling body on the floor.

My boyfriend joined me and soon my t-shirt had been pulled up and over my head, down my arms and thrown haphazardly on the carpeting near where I lay.

My nipples were like pebbles as he pinched and pulled on them through the fabric of my bra.

Despite my recent change to sexy panties, I still wore the same style of bra that had covered my developing breasts just three years earlier. It was a very simple creation of two triangles of fabric connected by an elastic band with clasps around my back.

Although the bra wasn't particularly sexy, it certainly showed my arousal as my nipples poked straight out against the fabric.

His other hand busied itself with the clasp of my jeans followed by the zipper. I lifted my butt off of the floor allowing him to pull them free of my hips.

I used my free hand to work them further down my legs until they were bunched at my ankles.

Not exactly the best position for any free movement of my legs, but I wasn't exactly thinking about this as I had other thoughts going through my head.

His magic fingers went to work on my lower lips which were easily found through the soaked nylon covering them.

It felt like heaven, which might have been expected as I was wearing my Sunday panties i.e. pure white with a pink embroidered 'Sunday' across the right hip.

But now it was my turn. I moved myself completely around so my 'Sunday' embroidery was almost in his face positioning my purring kitty directly on his chin.

As I basically humped his chin, I unzipped his pants easily finding his very eagerly awaiting lollipop and freed it from its confines.

There I now was face to face with his erection. I took a firm grasp of its shaft and watched as tiny droplets of liquid oozed from its opening.

I wasn't quite sure what to do as I certainly didn't study oral sex in high school. I stuck out my tongue and licked his droplets away.

His resulting moan told me that I was doing alright.

His skin felt so warm in my grasp and I could feel his heartbeat against the palm of my hand.

He was circumcised so I had a full view of everything. I liked how prominent the mushroom head was with that indentation along the ridge. I also noticed a long line down the bottom of his shaft that seemed to be his sensitive spot.

I played with the tip using my thumb to rub his issuing goo all around. Then I would lick it clean.

Surprisingly I liked the taste. It was a bit salty and very earthy. I never had a penis in my mouth but it seemed the right time to give it a go. (Rhymes with 'blow')

He was doing such a fine job on my kitty as I continued to rub myself across his chin, it only seemed fair to reciprocate.

As I continued to look at his erection, I felt a long drool of saliva drip out of my mouth and drop directly on the tip.

It seemed that I was ready for a better taste. 

I wrapped my salivating lips around its enlarged head and began to treat it like a popsicle. 

So tell me! Why is it called a blow job?? I definitely was not blowing on him. I was sucking on his firm flesh like it was an all day sucker.

The more that I sucked, the more excited I became. My saliva made his skin slick and slippery giving me the perfect surface to slip and slide my lips up and down. With each bobbing of the apple, I let his erection slip further and further into my throat, until it was hitting the very back.

My gag reflex was almost non-existent undoubtedly due to my excitement. 

Very soon my entire body was in sync as my head bobbing now matched my crotch grinding and I was getting very close to my objective i.e. a fire works exploding orgasm.

Our "uhs" were also in sync as we sounded like to vocal teens players smashing the ball across the court.

Then the wave crashed over me and my entire body was enveloped in the most intense sequence of orgasmic spasms I had eve felt. Almost simultaneously, I felt My boyfriend's body tense as the warm firm flesh in my mouth convulsed.

The convulsion was immediately followed by a squirt of a warm glob of liquid that hit the back of my throat.

I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with this creamy deposit, but the decision was taken away from me as another spasm was followed by another squirt of liquid.

I either needed to swallow my mouthful, choke, or spit it on the carpeting in my parent's dining room.

So guess which option I chose?

I swallowed trying to keep up with the flow of liquid sex filling my mouth. The entire sequence of spasm, squirt, and swallow was getting me quite aroused all over again.

I kept my lips tight around his erection until the last spasm and squirt. I licked the remaining secretions as they slowly drooled from his liquid caulk gun, while again pushing my soaked crotch into his face.

I was ready for round two or three or four, but looking to my right I realized the light that we had left on in the living room had been turned off by someone in my family.

It was almost comical how fast my arousal left and was replaced entirely by panic.

Had someone just watched our very lewd performance?

It was time to send my boyfriend on his way and get myself to bed.

I kissed him on the lips and off he went.

I spent the night remembering every detail of our encounter then replaced by worry that I wasn't the only one in my family to have some rather lewd memories. 

Thankfully, it turned out one of my older sisters had come in from her date and thinking that she was the last one home, had turned the light off and gone to bed.

Nothing was ever said or even hinted about what I was doing in the dining room, so as of today I still assume that my first try at oral sex went unnoticed except by a very appreciative recipient.

Now you would think that after performing so well my lips would have gotten a consistent work out, but this just wasn't who we were.

Despite our ever expanding sexual experiences we both were hesitant to talk about what we had done. So my boyfriend had no idea that I enjoyed treating his penis like a popsicle and he had no idea that I liked being stripped and fondled to orgasm.

The roots of our upbringing ran very deep indeed. 

However, to contradict all of that, a particular practice that only occurred on Wednesdays started to become a routine.

On Wednesdays, the dental office where I worked closed at noon. I almost always wore a light blue uniform dress that zipped from my neck to the hem. I purposely picked this color as it matched my 'Wednesday' bikini panties.

Before I would leave the office, I would go to the ladies room and remove my panty hose. 

Thus there was nothing but a long zipper keeping me and my light blue undies from the light of day.

The bus ride to my boyfriend's apartment was always a thrill.

Sitting in my seat with my mini uniform dress riding well up my bare thighs made me feel so adult as well as sexy.

Virtually every male passenger would check me out as they came on the bus with at least one always picking a seat that would give them a good view of my legs and very likely up my dress.

I guess men like the look of someone in a uniform as well. :-)

I liked the attention that I attracted although none of these men would ever know it. I would sit with a look of indifference on my face looking out the bus window using the reflection in the glass to see who was looking at me.

I was never disappointed.

I never did it on purpose, but knew that whenever I got up to exit the bus undoubtedly someone got to see that my panties matched my uniform.

The four block walk from the bus stop to my boyfriend's apartment kept me on edge as I had plans for his penis on this particular Wednesday.

I knocked on his door and when he opened it, I gave him a big hug and kiss allowing his hands to discover that under my uniform was nothing but a pair of nylon, bikini panties.

Into his room we went. As he watched I took a hold of my uniform zipper and pulled it slowly down my torso.

The first to reveal itself was my recently purchased light blue underwire push up bra. It was my first and cradled my tiny orbs as if they were flesh delicacies being served on an exquisite fabric platter.

It had half cups, which really was all that I needed, however when I was excited, which was at the moment as well as most of the day, my hard little knots of flesh would poke out the top of the cups barely covered by the lace trim.

I continued the passage of the zipper down my front showing off in turn my innie belly button, my appendix scar, and finally my pale blue 'Wednesday' panties.

From this point it was a simple shrug of my shoulders that sent my uniform dress cascading to the floor.

I sat on his bed pulling him over to me by taking a hold of his belt. Then I undid his pants, pulling down on them until they joined my dress.

His erection was pushing provocatively against the fabric of his purple bikini briefs. Ones that I had purchased for him as I wanted to see as much of his skin as he was seeing of mine.

I could have looked at him forever, but I was horny with a capital "H".

I pulled the elastic of his briefs down allowing his firm reaction to my strip tease free of its fabric constraints.

Laying back onto his bed, I pulled him on top of me and began to kiss him. Almost immediately I felt his erection push against my nylon covered crotch.

My lower lips were already swollen and slightly parted giving the head of his penis the perfect target for my enjoyment.

With every push of his hips, his swollen mushroom would rub along my equally swollen kitty giving me more than goosebumps all over my barely covered body.

I positioned myself so his thrusting resulted in the maximum effect, using his erection as my masturbatory tool.

Our breathing began to synchronize as we both headed towards orgasm. I came first barely preceding his squirt of white liquid that sprayed my entire upper torso. 

Now please don't think that we always shared orgasms. I was a bit slower to get there, but he was a fast learner and often spent the time to bring me up to speed before firing off his liquid fireworks.

I had his creme pooling in my navel, running down the sides of my stomach, and decorating the half cups of my new bra.

Note to self: In the future get your damn hand over his squirt gun before he pulls the trigger, and/or remove your bra.

When he was done emptying his load on my bare skin, he wrapped a towel around his waist grabbing a wash cloth.

I lay there trying to keep all of his jism on top of me as it continued to try to run down my sides to soak the comforter.

He came back with the wash cloth soaked with warm water and gave me a wonderful version of a sponge bath.

It was a fabulous orgasm for both of us and soon became a routine for my Wednesdays off.

I would show up at his door with my zipper down and as he closed the door to his bedroom I would shed my dress and lie on my back on his bed.

One particular Wednesday, he turned me over on my chest. He placed his throbber between my nylon covered cheeks and rubbed his erection on my backside. The motion pulled my panties up and down creating a very tantalizing wedgie effect.

I arched my back to give him an ample target for his harpoon and enjoyed the feeling of his erection sliding effortlessly between my nylon covered cheeks.

It didn't take long to hear his groan and feel a warm spurt of liquid splash across my back.

This time my bra was off so nothing but flesh was decorated with his creme.

Despite the lack of attention to my aching kitty, it still brought me close as I found being ejaculated on very arousing.

It only took a couple of minutes of his manual dexterity between my legs to have me join in his post orgasmic well-being.

We had turned the corner on our sexual exploits and I was loving it.

Wednesday orgasms became our routine as I looked forward to my weekly baptisms of spunk.

We were also becoming much more adventurous when not confined to a room.

That summer we decided to visit an older sister of mine who lived in another state. It was going to be an all day's drive on a Turnpike.

We were both extremely excited about taking a trip by ourselves and getting away from the city where we had both grown up.

Have you ever noticed that when you first discover sex, getting away from familiar surroundings can bring out a different side of you?

It certainly did for me.

He came by my house to pick me up for our trip. I had picked something very special to wear for our excursion, never thinking that maybe I should try to keep his focus on the road as opposed to on my crotch.

I had recently bought a light blue stretch denim micro mini skirt and a very bright geometric patterned pair of nylon string bikini panties.

The pattern was in various shades of blue that coordinated perfectly with my skirt.

The moment that I climbed into the front seat, my skirt slid up my thighs revealing the geometry lesson that I planned to give him for the entire trip.

My panties were easily on display and would remain so unless I continuously pulled on the hem of my skirt each time I adjusted my position. Now why would I do that when I clearly could see his stick shift creating a tent on the front of his pants???

I enjoyed his standing ovation and wanted to keep it standing.

What I hadn't expected was the attention that I was going to receive from any motorist with a vehicle high enough to see inside our cabin.

It made me quite self conscious as various truckers would follow alongside of us for miles.

I was embarrassed but at the same time, I didn't do anything to cover my crotch. Just like on my Wednesday bus rides, I enjoyed the attention despite the feeling of embarrassment and lack of ladylike behavior.

I still remember how conflicting it felt to enjoy being leered at like some sort of pinup, and at the same time feeling a bit ashamed of letting perfect strangers see my geometric patterns.

The conflict of emotions seemed only to add to my excitement.

Don't get me wrong. I had no desire to pull my skirt up to give them a good look, but on the other hand it would have been quite easy for my boyfriend to get me to do exactly that.

I couldn't possibly tell him, but whenever I became aroused, my submissive nature would spring forward.

I didn't even know what "submissive" meant, but I certainly wanted to be told what to do.

The first time that we found ourselves on a long stretch of highway with no other motorists, I took off my seat belt, kneeling on the front seat to get two sodas out of the cooler in the back seat.

As I leaned over the seat back my skirt rose almost to my hips, showing my boyfriend the effect of sitting for so long as a thin piece of nylon stretched tautly across my derrière.

My cheeks were rosy from sitting as if I had been spanked and my geometric pattern was crawling up my smile.

He told me to stay just as I was.

I did as I was asked only to look over my left shoulder to see that while I was preoccupied with opening the cooler we had caught up to a motorist and there was the male driver with a big smile giving either me or my boyfriend the thumbs up.

I was totally humiliated but again did nothing to cover up my exposure.

It still hadn't occurred to me that I liked being on display; mostly because it just wasn't something that a proper young lady enjoyed.

Also, I was still in denial regarding my developing tendencies.

The next time we were on our own I reached over and undid my boyfriend's belt, button and zipper, so that with a little help from him I could slip his pants down enough to see his undies.

I then began to play with him on and off as he kept glancing at my open legs and geometric crotch.

Each time we would catch up to another motorist, I would use his pullover to cover his lap.

Once we were past, up went the pullover and on went the stroking. I would grip his erection through his stretchy bikini briefs using the fabric to create enough friction to make him fully erect.

I played with him for well over 30 minutes pausing either for motorists or a noticeable change in his breathing that indicated "all systems were a go."

After I didn't think that he could take any more I let go of him pulling my skirt northward and spreading my legs wide.

"Your turn." I cooed with a smile.

His right hand went to work on my soaked triangle or was it a circle or a rectangle? No matter because in no time I was breathing like a race horse.

There was a truck off in the distance and it became a race to see which of us would finish first.

Do you notice that when you get to a certain point in arousal, there is no going back? I had reached that point just as we were pulling up to the truck. 

As its large body blocked my view on the right, I can only imagine the view that the truck driver had.

My boyfriend's fingers were vigorously rubbing me through my nylon crotch and I was spasming as one orgasm after another took a hold and shook me from stem to stern.

I seem to remember a long blast of horn as I shook in orgasmic bliss. It could simply of been in my head as quite a few instruments seemed to be playing.

When I was finally done my audience had also disappeared as my boyfriend sped up to get away from our unintended (Or was it?) voyeur.

Now it was my turn.

My boyfriend's erection was as firm and deep red as ever, so I pulled the front of his briefs down and wrapped my fingers around his throbbing flesh.

Much to my surprise, after only two pumps, white goo was shooting from his tip splashing across the inside of the windshield, across the steering wheel, and on the dash.

So I guess he was a two stroke engine.

It was incredible to see the force of his semen ejecting from his erection and flying across the windshield.

It was also very, very sexy.

I clamped my hand over the top of his penis, but the damage had been done. Can you say, "Clean up in aisle 2." Quickly reaching back into our cooler I pulled out a handful of napkins and packed his briefs with them covering his creme ejector as best I could.




Exposed Ch. 05



Claire lay there, in the cold, dark closet she'd crawled into, completely naked and shivering uncontrollably.

She could still almost feel the wriggling, slippery tentacles working inside her, sliding against her clit unceasingly. She could still feel the voices inside of her, begging her to just...beg.

She had. And it had felt so good.

"I failed you, Goddess," she whispered. Her long black hair, normally shiny and lustrous, was sticky with sweat and filled with dirt and dust from the floor she'd been...lying on.

Getting her brains fucked out by one of her Masters.

She shuddered, shaking her head furiously. No. "No," she told herself. "I'm...I'm not going out like that!"

She'd heard stories from other girls who'd been partially Converted, who'd let it consume them. One girl had even betrayed the order just to get the tentacles back inside her to finish the job. Just so she wouldn't have to think anymore.

She would not be one of those girls. She was Claire, favored priestess and lieutenant of the Living Goddess, and she was more than that.

She climbed to her feet. Feeling around in the darkness, she grabbed an old coat and put it on. She found some men's trousers lying on the floor—doubtless hastily discarded right before a session with one or two of the Converted—and put those on as well.

There was no underwear. She rolled her eyes. Of course there wasn't.

There was, however, a bra. It was one of the push-up kinds—the only kind ever seen in this kingdom of misogynists and perverts—but at least it would ease some pain on her back. Claire slipped off her coat momentarily and tied the scanty object on.

She took a deep breath. She was alone, unarmed, and almost naked. But she wasn't going to go out so easily. If Fate wanted an end to her efforts, it would have a long and rough struggle on its hands.

She turned and opened the closet door.

Anne stood right outside. The red-haired succubus was completely nude, hand on her chin, an amused, thoughtful smile on her face. She opened her mouth to say something.

Claire slammed the door shut, nearly hitting the demoness in the face. "Hey!" she heard Anne cry.

Claire's heart was pounding. She turned and braced against the opposite wall, holding the door shut. I'm dead. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead. You win, Fate. Good game. 'S been nice.

"Ugh." Anne sounded annoyed. Claire blinked—she hadn't heard that emotion from the succubus since...ever. "Okay, sorry. That was a bit bitchy of me, wasn't it?"

Claire didn't say anything. She took a deep breath, realizing she hadn't been breathing.

"Okay, look." Anne knocked on the door. "Sorry. I was just—I was doing a scare thing, y'know? Like, 'boo, haha'? I guess this, uh, wasn't the best time for it."

Claire frowned. This didn't sound like the brainwashed Anne at all. Nor did it sound much like a man-devouring demon.

"So, uh..." Anne knocked again. "I don't wanna rush you, Claire, but we're kind of on a timer and you're the only one who knows the way."

"Me?" Claire's voice was barely more than a breath.

"Yes, yes, you. Look, they brought me here with a fucking bag over my head." Anne sounded bitter. "I don't like asking humans for favors—and I know, 'cause I've been doing nothing but begging for them the last few months—but I really need to get out of here before more soldiers show up. I'm...not sure I can take them, in my current state."

Claire hesitated.

Part of her wanted to open the door. And probably give Anne a coat or something, because her naked body was making Claire very uncomfortable right now. But she wanted to help.

Part of her, on the other hand, remembered the mindless obedience, the insane lust, that had shone so long in the eyes of the succubus over the last few months.

"Claire." Anne's voice got strangely quiet—almost hard to hear through the door. "I don't want to lose myself again. I...please. Please try to hurry."

Claire felt tears in her eyes.

She turned and opened the door, thrusting out a coat and pair of pants to block her view of Anne's nether regions. "Let's go."

~~~~

Ri watched as Anne rapidly got dressed. She couldn't help but watch, and she knew Anne knew it from the little smiles the demoness kept sending her way.

"So, um..." Behind her, she heard Claire cough. "Otyu."

"Yeah."

"Thanks. I guess."

Anne took her time putting on a little pair of panties. Ri hadn't the faintest idea of where she'd gotten them, but such thoughts left her head as she watched Anne slowly pull them up her slender, muscular legs. The temptress sat down, affording Ri an excellent view as she eventually brought them up to block her cunt, letting Ri see its juices start to dribble onto the pink garment and make a wet spot. Anne smiled at her, the smile one might give to a pet cat that has gotten stuck inside a paper bag.

Or to any other sort of entertaining pet, but Ri had only ever seen cats. Pets weren't too popular in the Kingdom of the Chosen. That wasn't actually related to all the misogynistic qualities, though—it was really an unrelated issue connected to an ancient ghoul plague that had forced people to purge most animal species from their homes, a practice which had since developed into a cultural custom lacking any particular logic behind it. All this wasn't really at all relevant to the current catastrophes, though, and Ri wasn't exactly sure why it had come to mind.

"Don't fuckin' thank me, bitch." Otyu paused. "Sorry. Habit. Don't fuckin' thank me. I wasn't doing it for you or your order."

"I know who you were doing it for," Claire said. "And...I guess that's good?"

Silence. Ri watched as Anne's tail snaked around her breasts, wrapping around each of them and cupping them together. She looked up at Ri, raising one eyebrow suggestively as she tied on the bra. When her tail released the breasts, they jiggled together, and Anne gave a sultry wink.

Ri sorely regretted still being stuck in her waitress uniform. The little red cloth that some liked to call a 'skirt' was not doing anything to hide what was dripping down her leg. What has this demon done to me? she wondered, biting her lip.

"Yeah, okay." Otyu echoed Claire's earlier cough. "Uh...okay, this is fucking awkward. Look, keep the girl safe. I promised her mother I'd...well, just follow your code with her."

"Of course I will."

"Well, then. Here y'are. Try an' make it quick."

"Got it. Good luck, Otyu."

Ri was watching Anne squeeze into a ridiculously tight pair of pants. Anne twisted and writhed, giving little soft moans of seeming discomfort as she leaned over the table for better purchase. Ri was afforded an embarrassingly personal view of the succubus's pert rear as, with a loud snap, Anne finished.

Ri tasted something irony on her lip and quickly stopped biting it. She stared at Anne a moment, losing herself in the woman's perfect, supple body. The succubus turned back, still leaning over the table, and winked.

Ri jolted to her senses as she heard a loud CLANG. She spun in time to see Otyu falling. A large bump was growing on his forehead, and Claire stood above him with a frying pan.

"Claire!" Ri cried. "What—"

Claire looked up at her. "What? It's the plan." She blinked. "Weren't you listening?"

"Oh, Ri." Anne chuckled, coming up behind Ri and oh-so-subtly brushing against her as she went to stand beside Claire. "Where does your mind go, I wonder?"

"Um..." Ri swallowed, walking to stand behind a table so she could slightly rub her legs together, try to absorb the wetness before Claire spotted it. "So the plan involves hitting Otyu with a frying pan. Okay. This is a good plan."

"Otyu doesn't wanna come with us," Anne said. She was explaining slowly—as if she'd been paying any more attention, Ri thought irritably. She was probably just putting together what Ri herself was now starting to work out as well. "He's not the adventuring type. So we're gonna pass this off as a heroic rescue attempt. He got knocked out, sadly, and was unable to save Lieutenant Belkir from his hilarious death-by-ironic-stoning."

"Uh...what about the boys that attacked me?" Ri frowned. "They'll tell people Otyu was defending me."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Nobody will believe them." Claire gave a grim smile. "That fat old catfish, one of the last elemental mystics on the continent? I mean, not even I can really believe it. How the mighty fall."

Anne walked over and took Ri's hand. Ri jumped as she was led over to the door, but she walked along obediently. "Otyu will say they just didn't want to admit getting beat by a girl," the succubus explained. She winked. "Even a scary demon girl like me." As she turned back to Claire, her fingers slightly tickled the inside of Ri's leg, making Ri straighten with shock.

Claire picked up one of the swords of the dead Chosen, frowning. "Low-quality steel. Blegh." She looked over and walked to Belkir's corpse. "Maybe the lieutenant has...aha!"

She reached down, removing the man's belt—pointedly ignoring the man's large erection—and took the scabbard and blade.

She drew it, eliciting an audible, strangely musical hum, and her eyes widened. "Ooh! Magic! I love magic weapons." She quickly sheathed the sword, silencing its faint song. "Remind me to show that to Yillit."

"Um..." Ri swallowed. She wanted to take her hand from Anne's, but knew full well that that wasn't an option. So she just put her hand behind her back. She knew that this would just make it look like Anne had her hand on her ass, but it beat letting Claire see Ri deliberately holding Anne's hand. She hoped. "C-Claire, right?"

Claire looked up at Ri, looking surprised. She stood, tying Belkir's belt around her waist. "That's right. And you're Ri. I know we didn't exactly speak much."

"Y-you're...with the False Goddess."

Claire's expression darkened, and Ri instantly regretted her reflexive reference. "I serve the Living Goddess. I am a trusted priestess of the order that fights to free these lands and drive off the Chosen Commander's empire of cruelty. Perhaps you should watch how you refer to my faith."

Ri felt Anne lightly stroking the slip of her rear with a finger. "I doubt she meant anything by it, Claire. Remember her upbringing."

Claire blinked. "R...right." She closed her eyes a moment. "Sorry. It's been a...rough day." She gave a manic sort of laugh, a laugh completely devoid of joy. "Listen, Ri, I'm going to take you back. The Living Goddess and our allies can protect you. Annuisetvio can do whatever she likes once we're past the border and in Horacio's dukedom."

"Oh, come on." Anne rolled her eyes, releasing Ri's hand and ceasing the light tickling. "You're taking us to that hellhole?"

"Horacio is an honorable man," Claire snapped. "He's sheltered our troops ever since the Chosen began mobilizing."

"Blegh." Anne pouted. "Honorable? Try boring-as-hell. And I know hell." She paused, frowning. "And hellholes. Wow, I'm funny, aren't I?"

Claire rolled her eyes as she finished tying the belt. "It's where we're supposed to meet some mercenaries, anyways. They're working almost for free. Apparently they're really good."

"Pfft. Mercenaries." Anne smirked. "Just rangers who get laid more often."

"I don't really care if you like where we're going or not, Annuistet...Annuisev...ugh."

"Just call me Anne." Ri glanced back, seeing Anne's tail twitching, tantalizingly close to Ri's left cheek. "Trust me, it's easier."

"Annuisetvio." Claire sounded the words out. She walked over, coming to stand between Ri and Anne, and took Ri's hand. Her tone went softer. "Ri, are you ready to go?"

Ri looked at Claire. Armored, exhausted, ready for battle.

She turned and looked at Anne. Tightly-dressed, relaxed, ready for another round on the floor.

She knew, of course, what Claire didn't: The question was truly going to be answered by Anne.

The succubus gave a tiny nod.

Intensely relieved, Ri turned and nodded. "I-I guess."

"Okay." Holding Ri's hand, Claire started walking. "Anne, you coming?"

Anne walked up and came to stand right beside Ri, sandwiching the young albino between the soldier and the demon. Ri felt the tail tickle between her legs, barely touching her pussy's parted lips. She barely contained the whimper.

They left the tavern with no undue haste. As they did, Claire sniffed the air, scowling.

"Even out here, it still smells like sex. Gonna be a long journey."

Anne flashed Ri a dazzling smile, eyebrows arched.

Ri gulped. No argument here.

THE END.

~~~~

Goblin's Note: And that's the last you'll see of those characters!

No, not really. What is this, the last season of Angel? I didn't see any goddamn Jayne Cobbs in suits, did you? Yeah. You didn't.

Kidding aside, this is only the official end of the Exposed act. Claire's story will be continued in a new "act", which will be given a title more fitting what's going on. I think at some point I may go back and edit the starts of each "act" to explain the chronological significance, but if you're curious, here's the current sequence-of-events in-universe:

- First, there's Annuisetvio's conversion. This takes place well before everything else.

- Second, there's Sea Slimes. Snatch and Larya met sometime before then.

- Then there's Unliving Lust, which comes a fair while after.

- Then there's chapters 01-05ish of Evergreen Forest, which take place directly after the events of Unliving Lust.

- Finally, the rest of Evergreen Forest (starting from Snatch's escape from the nymphs) and the entirety of Exposed take place at roughly the same time.

ANYWAYS, the next installment of Claire's saga will begin after the completion of the Evergreen Forest arc. Said installment will, surprise!, bring the two tales crashing together like the marionettes of an incompetent, epileptic puppeteer! AAAHhaahahaaHAHAa! >:D

Next up will be either Sea Slimes, Evergreen Forest, or something completely different! And have a happy New Year!



Exposed Ch. 05



We were a few miles from the next service area and thus drove with a windshield dripping with male excitement.

Once we were able to pull over, we stayed away from the rest of the parked cars and I went into the ladies room to get a handful of wet paper towels.

as my boyfriend cleaned himself up, I cleaned his creamy residue from the inside of the car.

I am sure that anyone who watched me bend and reach saw all of the geometric shapes that they desired, but I was too intent on erasing the liquid climax from our windshield.

We had a great week with my sister and my brother behaving ourselves the entire time.

I guess decorating the inside of the car with sex was enough excitement for the week.

The trip home wasn't quite as erotic as it was after dark and we both were tired after our week of sightseeing. However, I was able to discover how effectively a map light reflects off any colored nylon. I used my discovery to take a look at our atlas as frequently as I could, letting the light give my boyfriend a good look at my panties. I had worn a pale pink pair for the ride home.

The light also revealed my dark muff barely concealed underneath the nylon.

I should have known this much sooner, but he had a thing for panties. I can't really say that it was a fetish, but any view of my panties or panty lines would result in a very nice erection.

I had discovered the "Power of Panties" at least as it related to my boyfriend's erection.

I spent most of the trip letting him peek to his heart's delight and enjoyed every second of it.

And as my "thank you" to him for taking me to see my sister, about 3 hours from home, I again turned on my map light, knelt sideways on the front seat, pulling my skirt above my waist, and proceeded to give him some very desired lip service.

I loved how he squeezed my cheeks hard the more excited he got. And when he reached his long fingers across my bottom and down between my legs, we both had something to breathe hard about.

This time all of his squirting occurred in my mouth.

Quite the road trip.

To this day, if we are alone on a trip I will reenact that same "Thank you."

Next: Our first time and the last summer as a single couple. 



Exposed Ch. 06



Our dating life pretty much followed a routine of going out on Friday and Saturday nights, often followed by a sojourn to our favorite parking spot.

Yes, my boyfriend had an apartment, however, he shared it and neither one of us wanted to get a reputation for frequent sexual encounters whenever I visited his place.

Besides the whole experience of being slowly undressed in a public setting had become my major turn on.

I didn't realize this at the time as it was so common for everyone our age to "park".

The typical routine for us was to find a semi-secluded spot along the local parkway and then climb into the back seat.

As we kissed and fondled each other, whatever I was wearing would gradually be unbuttoned, unzipped, or pulled up and over my head, or down to my ankles.

I would have to admit that the ultimate goal for both of us was to get me down to my bra and panties.

As my outer layers were removed, the exquisite onslaught of tingling nerves would start its path from my head, across my chest, then around and down my back, ultimately finding its way to that very sensitive spot between my legs.

I liked sitting next to my boyfriend wearing nothing but my undies. It felt deliciously naughty.

The look on his face as he slowly scanned my almost naked body was like an aphrodisiac for me. I would plant myself in the corner of the back seat and watch him look me over.

Combining this with the fact that I was in a public setting became pre-orgasmic for me.

As his exploring fingers would find their way up my inner thigh I would undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and unzip his zipper.

Then with a little help from him, I would pull his pants down until his own bikini briefs were on display always with his flesh stick poking provocatively against the stretchy material.

As he played with my kernel through the thin nylon fabric of my panties, I would play with his erection until the head oozing with creme fully emerged from its cloth confines.

His ability to bring me to orgasm got better and better with every attempt. As for my own abilities, it seems that I had become so adept at bringing him to a head that I always needed either a handful of tissues ready or my face with an open mouth hovering close to his penis.

We had definitely overcome any of our inhibitions regarding sexual experiences.

Now none of theses routines didn't come without its own peculiar kind of "oops".

During our last summer as a single couple, I would often wear rather revealing styles of clothes as it pertains to material and/or brevity.

One particular Friday, I borrowed a short short jump suit that my older sister had made undoubtedly for her own version of a boyfriend experience.

It was bright yellow with a very shiny, stretchy kind of fabric, which in a certain light became almost completely transparent. However because of the shimmery fabric it played a trick on any voyeur's eyes as they wondered whether they really had seen what they had seen.

It also had a front zipper that unzipped down the front from the neckline to the top of any low style of bikini panty that I might have on.

The moment that my sister had worn it, I knew that I needed it for one of my upcoming dates.

On the same day that I had been able to procure her outfit, I had visited my favorite lingerie store and found a bra and panty set in a similar bright yellow with a cute little bumble bee displaying a prominent stinger sewn on the right front of the panties and on the left front cup of the triangle style bra.

It was the perfect set of undies to go under my sister's short shorts jumper.

We went to a club that evening spending most of the time on the dance floor where the iridescent lighting made my jump suit virtually transparent.

My boyfriend was getting quite aroused looking at me twirling and shimmying seemingly oblivious to all of the stares that I was getting.

I on the other hand was anything but oblivious and was getting very aroused knowing that I and my yellow undies were on display.

Neither one of us could wait to get into the car and find our favorite parking spot along the parkway.

Once there I quickly climbed into the back seat with my boyfriend following right behind me. Once we were settled, I took a hold of the zipper of the jump suit and teasingly asked, "So do you want to see what everyone was staring at tonight?"

I didn't wait for his answer as it was quite obvious by the pole forming a tent in the front of his pants what his response would be.

I pulled on the zipper slowly unveiling my bright yellow triangle bra. As the folds of the fabric parted, my erect little nipples revealed the state of my arousal as well.

I continued pulling the zipper down until it reached my navel. Each inch that the zipper descended the two folds of fabric of the jumper would separate more and more as if I were on the inside of a banana peel.

The zipper stopped about an inch below my panty line. My entire body was vibrating in a most delicious manner as I watched my boyfriend's eyes become wider and wider as the zipper made its path down my upper torso.

I pulled one arm out of a sleeve and then the other letting the top half of the jumper gather around my waist.

"Do you like my bumble bee?" I cooed barely keeping a string of saliva from dripping out of my mouth.

Whenever I am very aroused my mouth begins to water as if I am hungry for something. I wander what that something might be??

Before I allowed my boyfriend to take a hold of the triangle of yellow material covering my left breast which sported the bumble bee appliqué, I raised my bottom up off of the seat and slipped the jump suit completely off my lower half throwing it haphazardly onto the front seat.

There I sat with nothing on but my bright yellow bumble bee bra and panties. I was in a state of pure bliss as the sexual energy coursed through my entire body.

I loved how it felt to be in front of my boyfriend with nothing on but a bra and panties, particularly when it was in a place or location where bras and panties are typically covered by another layer of clothing.

I have come to call it my "Pin Up syndrome." 

The way he looked at me when I was wearing very little along with his very obvious erection tenting the front of his pants was so exhilarating. I wished that the moment would never end.

Once I was disrobed the activity began. His right had pushed against the fabric of my triangle bra easily finding my hard little pebble. As he pinched it between his two fingers our mouths entwined and his tongue pushed its way through my open lips and I sucked on it just as I imagined that I would be sucking on something else in short order.

I reached down and undid his belt, tugging at the clasp of his pants desperately wanting to free his hardened flesh so I could wrap my fingers around it.

Everything about me was lost in the moment as I opened my legs to allow his other hand to play with my other hard little nub.

Just at that moment a hard rap of metal resounded off the window just behind my head. I jerked in response to the very unexpected interruption quickly turning to look over my shoulder only to stare into a flashlight beam shining directly on my face.

I blinked in disbelief as the bright light lit up my chest making its way down across my stomach to my lower abdomen eventually finding its way to my crotch.

The light did what the club's iridescent lighting had done earlier in the evening only this time it was my bra and panties that seemed transparent.

My boyfriend pushed away from me to quickly put his softening erection back where it belonged, particularly when we had an audience.

This left my entire body uncovered and unprotected as another beam of bright light lit me up from the opposite window.

If the beams had been hands I would have been thoroughly molested top and bottom as they explored every inch of my exposed flesh.

My two dark nipples and equally dark mound were easily visible through the thin fabric of my yellow undies.

As the flashlights were trained on every part of me other than my face, I could see that they were being held by two of the city's finest. Two policemen in full uniform were leering at me.

I swear that my boyfriend could have been buck naked and he wouldn't have received a single ray of light.

I on the other hand was on display front and center.

Not only could they identify that the carpeting matched the drapes, but they could also ascertain how much the carpeting covered.

Ever since I had discovered my predilection for teeny, tiny panties, going au naturale underneath was no longer an option.

Besides shaving and trimming my private area made me feel so grown up and sexy.

I finally came out of my shock and embarrassment enough to reach over the front seat and grabbed for my gold jumper.

The lights followed my movement giving my official voyeurs a good look at my bottom.

There was nothing that I could do other than to use my jumpsuit as a makeshift cover as their flashlights relentlessly followed my every movement.

Another rap on the window came along with a motion to lower the window. I still wasn't dressed, but what could I do.
I lowered the window allowing the beams of light to renew their scrutiny of my scanty attire.

Meekly I asked, "Yes?'"in a quivering voice to the one standing just on the other side of the door.

He asked to see our licenses under the pretense that we were under age and violating curfew as well as any sex with an underage minor statutes.

Although the sex part had never quite got under way.

So where do you think my handbag with my ID was?? If you said, "on the floor in the front seat", you would be correct.

This time I gave them a very long and full view of my panty clad bottom as I leaned over the seat back until I could reach my bag on the floor.

I literally was draped across the head rest and could feel the hot breathe of my door side voyeur on my bare back.

The heat of the flashlight was now concentrated on my cheeks and panties.

At this point I just gave up on trying to cover up as it seemed that I wasn't going to be given the chance anyway.

As they shined the light on my picture ID and then on my face as well as my breasts and crotch, they supposedly confirmed my identity and age.

While they confirmed my boyfriend's identity and age as well, the beams of light still never left me.

I was totally embarrassed and humiliated.

It is funny to think about this now as the two policemen were undoubtedly in their late 30's or early 40's which at the time made them seem dirty old men.

Now that I am in my early 40's it has become a very sexy memory from my early 20's, although at the time it seemed dreadful.

The fear that I had was that they would contact my parents and explain how they came across their daughter in the backseat of a car wearing nothing but her bra and panties with her fingers wrapped around her boyfriend's stick shift.

They told us to go home for the evening as occurring to them we weren't allowed to park this late at night on the parkway.

One of my favorite after date activities had been extremely curtailed.

For the next two weeks, every time the phone rang, I expected it to be a policeman asking to speak to my father.

I was a nervous wreck.

Besides this experience just served to enforce my belief that what I was doing was wrong, possibly even against the law.

I can only assume that I felt very similar to how a young boy with strict parents feels when he first discovers masturbation. You know that it is wrong or at least that is what your parents tell you, but you can't stop.

I was addicted to the feelings that came over me when I was scantily clad in a public setting.

I wanted to stop, but I just couldn't.

The conflict between my taught beliefs of proper and improper conduct for a young lady was raging inside of me.

Despite all of my misgivings, my Wednesday afternoon sessions with my boyfriend continued as I relished being spray painted with his liquid excitement as I lay in my light blue undies on his bed.

We were playing with fire and eventually that fire had to get out of control.

On one particular Wednesday, I was lying on my back on the bed in my Wednesday outfit with my boyfriend poking and prodding me with his flesh stick between my legs. My lower lips were drooling with excitement soaking through the crotch of my panties.

I had gotten quite accustomed to seeing his erection and relished how it felt when he rubbed himself on me, but on this particular occasion I wanted to feel him inside of me.

As he rubbed himself across my protruding kernel, he asked me if I wanted to "do it."

I did, but I didn't want to all at the same time.

I hesitantly replied, "We could try it, but you can't squirt inside of me."

He didn't have a condom so we had to be especially careful.

We were both still virgins from that aspect and I just wasn't sure how the first time would be and whether this was the right time.

But my entire body ached for his penis to fill my salivating tunnel.

I pulled the nylon crotch of my panties aside and gently guided his heat seeking probe inside of me. 

As he pushed I kept saying, "easy, easy."

I let out a little "Oh" as the tip entered me. It was an unusual feeling having my opening pushed apart as the tip introduced itself to my inner sanctum.

Another little push and out came another "Oh", but this time it was more from the unexpected tingling that was beginning to activate my nerve endings.

I held on to his hips to keep him from thrusting forward as I wanted him to go easy.

One more push and my head leaned back onto the pillow and a much more emphatic "OH" of pure ecstasy escaped from my open lips.

My eyes had rolled back into my head and my hands had surrendered their grip on his hips.

I moved my bottom forward and brought my knees up towards my hips giving him full access to my forbidden zone.

He was all the way inside of me and all of my nerve endings were alive and vibrating. 

I now had a very warm cylinder of firm flesh filling my all too eager vagina.

There was no discomfort or tearing of flesh. As it turned out I am one of those women that had an undeveloped hymen, and thus the door was already open.

Every little movement by him or myself caused my nerve endings to scream in pure pleasure.

At this point I must remark on the incredibly effective design of the male penis. The prominent mushroom head with its distinctive ridge opens the passage while going in and then activates every single nerve ending that lines he passage as it comes back out again.

I could not believe the overwhelming sensations emanating from my most sensitive erogenous zone.

I didn't want it to stop.

We were both breathing hard. I mean very hard: like two locomotives racing towards oblivion.

Off in the distance I heard him ask, "Are you OK?"

I wanted to answer, "OH YAH!!" but all I could do was nod my head.

He slowly moved his hips back causing his erection to slide out and then pushed it back in.

Each movement brought me closer and closer to nirvana. I wanted to scream, "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes," but restrained myself as his roommates were virtually right outside the door. His bedroom was located on the first floor just outside the living room.

I bit the pillow instead as his pump continued to prime my well.

The gusher was close and we both new it. Without hesitation my boyfriend pulled his erection free of my gripping muscles and splashed his excitement all over my stomach well up to my breasts.

My orgasm occurred as he ejaculated on my glistening skin.

Of course, as it is with those of us struggling with what we had been told about the sins of pre-marital sex, the guilt and shame followed shortly after.

Instead of feeling blissful and satisfied, I was terrified that my first foray into unprotected sex would have a very complicated outcome.

It didn't help matters that for the next week my period was late.

My boyfriend was perfect about the thought of pregnancy as we discussed getting married.

But then my period arrived about 6 days later than it should have and I announced to my boyfriend on a Wednesday with my dental assistant uniform completely unzipped showing off my light blue underwire push up bra and Wednesday panties.

It was quite a few months before we repeated our performance at which time we had become engaged and no longer worried quite as much about any unexpected pregnancies.

However my scantily clad exposures in public venues continued of which some do deserve special mention.

A few of the more notable I will share with you next time.

Also, what is it about being slapped on my posterior that makes my whole body tingle?



Exposed Ch. 07



Before I share the exhibitionist details of my married life, I do have some notable exposures that 'bare' (mispelling is intentional) mention.

First honorable mention that I neglected to write about is what may have led up to the taking of my boyfriend down into the basement and essentially performing my first hand job.(See chapter 4)

I had stated that I wasn't sure what caused my impulsiveness to make him squirt.

As I continue to write about my early sexual experiences, more of the details from my past seem to become revealed.

This is what I now remember to have occurred leading up to the basement splash. 

For the entire week whenever I would talk to my boyfriend, I hinted about my new red panties.

By the time the weekend rolled around we were both quite desperate to expose them. I had on a white denim mini skirt that gapped at the waist any time I bent over.

My boyfriend arrived at my front door for dinner, which was becoming more and more of a typical event as my family had accepted him wholeheartedly. My acceptance of him started with my heart but had definitely moved south in the past year.

I led him into the living room and we both sat down on the front couch.

As I leaned forward in the process of planting my derriere on the seat cushion, my boyfriend took the opportunity to slip his hand down inside the waistband of my skirt.

He was so determined to get a hold of my satin covered cheeks that he shoved his hand far enough down my back to completely cup one of them.

All of this was done while I was in the act of sitting down.

Once my posture settled on the sofa, his hand was trapped inside my skirt gripping my barely covered cheek.

As I wiggled enjoying the constant fondling of my bottom, my mother decided to walk into the living room to casually talk to my boyfriend.

When you are young you think that your parents can't notice certain activities such as having your boyfriend's hand implanted down the back of your skirt.

My mother never let on that she noticed anything, but it is difficult to believe that she didn't.

The conversation was normal asking my boyfriend about school and his part time job, but I couldn't help fidgeting with his fingers constantly gripping my cheek.

My entire face turned red with embarrassment causing my mother to ask if I was feeling all right.

As I replied that I was OK, my boyfriend wriggled his fingers deeper down my back until the tips were at the front door of my most erogenous zone.

I felt that if I parted my legs, my mother would see two fingers poking out from underneath my crotch.

It certainly didn't help having my legs squeezed together as it forced his fingers right up against my lower lips.

I was starting to perspire as the combination of extreme embarrassment and unexpected arousal was having its effect on me.

Thankfully my mother had to get back to the kitchen and we were left alone just long enough for me to take a hold of my boyfriend's wrist extracting his magic massager from the inside of my skirt.

Don't get me wrong. I loved having him fondle me especially on the inside of my clothes. I just didn't want another member of my family to walk in as I was getting close to orgasm.

I took his hand pulling him through the house and down the stairs to the basement. 

Somehow I thought that I needed to get even for his fondling of me right in front of my mother whether she was aware of it or not.

I was going to expose him and bring him to a boil with most of my family occupying the space right above us.

Let's see how he likes to feel vulnerable and out of control.

Somewhere between the first step and the last I seem to have lost my intent as it was my skirt that hit the floor leaving me standing just at the bottom of the basement stairs wearing a midriff t-shirt and a pair of bright red brazilian cut bikini panties.

If you have been keeping up with my semi-autobiography, you know all that happened next.

If not, please go back to Chapter 4 and you will get all of the wonderfully sordid details.

The second honorable mention followed two months or so after my police exposure. My boyfriend and I attended a formal that was held at his University.

It was a black tie dinner and dance that they held for the seniors every winter.

I dressed in a formal gown while my boyfriend rented a black tuxedo.

The event was extremely enjoyable spending time with his classmates and friends.

Once the evening wound down and he proceeded to drive me home, we took a little detour to the parkway.

The thought was that it was too cold for the police to be out and checking on parkers. Even if they were it would most likely be in a car and thus they would be spotted well enough ahead of time to get covered up.

It was my intent to pull my formal gown up my legs allowing my boyfriend access to my thighs and possibly my panties.

However once we got to kissing and fondling each other through our clothes my intentions of remaining somewhat covered flew out the window.

As we embraced and french kissed each other I felt my boyfriend's hand move away from the front of my chest (Yes, he had been cupping my breast through my dress and bra.) locating the tongue of my zipper at the top of my gown.

Down, down, down, the zipper went finally stopping basically even with the top of my derrier.

His hand then slipped inside my gown cupping my left cheek and giving it a good squeeze.

The mixture of pain and raw passion coursed through me and I found myself pulling the top of my gown off of my shoulders and down my arms.

As the fabric settled around my waist my black demi-cup bra was completely revealed including the front clasp that kept it closed.

My boyfriend's hand quickly slipped under the cup of my bra easily finding a very erect and hard little nub begging for attention.

He pinched my nipple between his two fingers and I let out a loud moan of supplication.

I wanted more. 

I took a hold of the clasp between the two cups of my bra and with a simple twist undid it allowing the fabric to drop away from my very aroused nipples and breasts.

His face sank into my chest and I felt his tongue lick the very tip of one nipple sending heat waves down my torso and into my crotch.

His other hand was sliding up my thigh highs looking to pet my purring kitty, but the voluminous fabric of my gown was inhibiting his progress.

I wanted more.

Placing both hands on my hips I easily slid the bottom of my gown completely down my legs and over my high heels and off.

Without any thought given to any wrinkling effect, I balled up the fabric and threw it into the front seat.

I was now sitting in the back seat of my boyfriend's car wearing nothing but a pair of black thigh high nylons, black high heels, and and a newly purchased leopard print string bikini panty.

Any thought of being discovered by the "parking" police or even keeping a lookout for a police car was overwhelmed by the vibrations of sexual energy flowing through my body.

I wanted more.

I leaned back against the side of the back door and let my boyfriend do his magic as he alternately pinched, pulled, licked, and sucked on my extremely sensitive bare nipples, while his other hand polished my erect little kernel through the thin fabric of my leopard print panties.

It didn't take long for my entire body to harden into one tense muscle as the pre-orgasmic wave of sexual energy pushed forward.

I took in a deep breathe of air and gave myself over to the series of spasms and convulsions that now rocked my body.

It was becoming obvious to me that being in any sort of public place wearing not much more than a pair of string bikini panties was my aphrodisiac. 

My boyfriend had become quite accomplished at masturbating me to orgasm, however my ability to come was greatly enhanced when I was so exposed in a public venue.

The moment my clothes started to come off, my body was already reacting by poking my nipples forward, emitting warm and slick secretions into the crotch of my panties, opening my lower lips, and filling my tiny kernel with blood making it easily identifiable by his exploring fingers.

Essentially I didn't require any stimulation other than to have my clothes removed leaving me wearing either a bra and panties or just panties.

From that point forward my eventual orgasm was guaranteed.

How I had evolved from such a sexually inexperienced young woman into an orgasm seeking exhibitionist was anybody's guess.

The pattern had become almost routine. I wanted to be wearing as little as possible, although never naked, in a public setting.

Parks, parked cars, basements, lake fronts, etc., etc. had become my stage for exposure.

The cool air or the warm air that enwrapped my exposed skin sensually informed me that I was barely clothed.

The look that enveloped my boyfriend's face told me that I was sexy, i.e. very sexy.

The mixed feelings of helplessness, submissiveness, and anxiety combined to completely arouse me.

I loved all of it. It had become my addiction.

After my convulsions came to an end and before the warm glow of orgasmic bliss left my body I reached for my boyfriend's zipper and applied the same technique that he had performed earlier on my dress.

Once it was down I easily found his throbbing erection. With a simple pull of the fabric of his bikini briefs out came his firm flesh glistening with dew and begging for a kiss.

By the way, the zipper on a tuxedo pant is considerably longer than that found on a normal pair of pants. I could comfortably slide my entire hand into the opening and wrap my fingers around his erection.

It was incredibly sexy to me to be able to work with ease inside the opening.

I earlier told you about my tendency to salivate when I get very aroused. Well, this time was no different, and once I had my boyfriend's entire penis sticking through the opening, I leaned forward placing my head directly into his crotch and wrapping my already wet lips around his warm flesh.

Lifting my lower body up onto the seat until I was in kneeling position I sucked on his champaign bottle with my leopard print buttocks facing up in the air.

I am not sure exactly why, however, as I was in this position, he gave my exposed derriere a smart slap across one cheek.

It stung sharply causing me to lose suction on his erection as a small gasp of surprise and pain escaped my lips.

As my exposed flesh stung in the cold night air, that area right between my legs began to salivate.

I can't explain what it was exactly, but his firm slap of my backside had gotten me aroused. As aroused as I got when stripped or stripping off my clothes. 

As the pain lingered my oral efforts on his erection renewed until my lips were sliding effortlessly up and down on his flesh.

I felt another sharp slap across my other cheek, but this time it only served to further incite my performance.

Was it my lack of clothing that gave me that welcome feeling of helplessness and submission to his assault on my derriere?

Did a sense of being his sexual slave existing only to serve in whatever capacity he required of me arouse my primal nature?

Did I have a secret desire to be nothing more than a sexual plaything and pin up to this young man that seemed to know my slowly unveiling longings?

Or did I feel the need to be punished for what I may have believed to be my sexual deviancies?

I honestly don't know and pretty much don't care, but I was aroused by his slaps across my derriere and obviously so was he. Very shortly after his second stinging application across my derriere, the cork of his bottle exploded heaving its first gush of hot liquid inside of my mouth.

I quickly swallowed as the first gush was followed by another and then another. Each one hot and thick requiring me to swallow so as not to have it burst from my closed lips.

It was as if he hadn't had a good orgasm in ages.

I wondered how much of the spanking that he had given me was responsible for this abundant liquid outburst.

I wanted to reach between my legs and finish what his slaps had started but wasn't comfortable enough as yet to masturbate in front of him.

Instead I forced myself to calm down when all of the time I wanted to place myself across his lap with my backside present and accounted for.

After we had put ourselves back in order and all of my erogenous zones had had time to calm down, he wrapped his arms around me.

The silence was broken when he asked if he had hurt me when he spanked me. "It was okay," I replied tentatively.

How could I possibly admit to him that I liked it. I mean that I liked it a lot.

He then apologized stating that he didn't quite know why he had done it.

I assured him that I didn't mind. How could I possibly let him know that I liked being spanked? Wasn't that something that sadists and masochists enjoyed?

I certainly wasn't one of them. Was I??

I had never been spanked as a child and only related the act to a form of punishment. It never occurred to me that a sharp smack across my buttocks would result in so much liquid activity between my legs.

How could something that stung and burned result in my arousal?

It made no sense to me other than feeling that something was wrong with me. I tried not to think about it, but it soon became the center of my masturbatory thoughts late at night while alone in my room.

From that point forward my derriere was subject to any number of pinches, grabbing, and slapping particularly when I was wearing anything tight, which was most of the time.

I found myself quite fond of the physical attention afforded it and began to encourage it whenever we were together.

It aroused me then and continues to arouse me now.

One final honorable mention to share. 

On a beautiful fall day as the calendar marched towards winter and the sun had not as yet lost its warmth, we took a trip to a local flower garden and nature conservancy. As we strolled hand and hand along the paths looking at the flowers, shrubs, and trees present their last burst of color, I felt my boyfriend's hand slip out of my hand and reposition itself on my lower back.

The slight sense of touch so close to my newly discovered erogenous zone caused me to tremble in anticipation.

It wasn't long before his hand slid downward across my awaiting buttocks giving my right cheek a hard squeeze.

His firm grasp on my derriere easily awakened my animal passion. 

It barely remained dormant when we were together anymore.

We exited the gardens walking across the parking lot to a nature walk through a woods. Although we weren't alone, my boyfriend's manual attention to my backside continued whenever no one was directly behind us on the path.

We walked through the woods to an opening that contained a meadow overflowing with the tall grasses of autumn.

Taking my hand, my boyfriend led us off the stone path winding our way into the meadow until we were about 40 yards away.

He kneeled down pulling me with him until we were virtually hidden by the tall grass. It had become such a habit for me that I no longer noticed how quickly I would undo my pants whenever we were alone.

Down went my hands to my front clasp and zipper effortlessly unveiling my latest panty acquisition.

I had ventured from the somewhat revealing to the very revealing as my new bikini panties were completely sheer in a yellow fishnet type of material.

When I say completely, I mean completely; front, back, crotch, everywhere.

Other than brief glimpses, I had never put my trimmed mound on full display before. Now here I was barely a stone's throw from a public walking path with my pants pulled open showing off all of me in a slight yellow tint.

The waist band had white daisy appliqués that completely bordered the top, but every part of my anatomy south of the daisy chain was exposed.

I grabbed for the waist of my pants as my boyfriend attempted to pull them down my legs, but my effort to remain covered was halfhearted and a bit comical.

My upbringing had taught me that a proper young lady does not allow herself to be stripped from the waist down particularly in a public area and certainly not with sheer panties on.

The tingling started as my pants made their way down my thighs, over my knees, then down my calves eventually bunching up at my ankles.

My boyfriend easily pulled them free of my tennis shoes and off my pants came.

The tingling was intensifying and starting to invade my most sensitive erogenous zone.

I laid on my back letting the sun soak through the sheer material causing my panties to seem even more transparent than they were.

I could feel a drop of sexual dew beginning to exit from my lower lips.

The sound of couples conversing with each other as they meandered along the meadow's border should have caused me concern resulting in a quick grab of the fabric of my pants and a urgent pull up my legs. 

Instead it only served to further arouse me.

My boyfriend realized long before I ever did that I enjoyed, in fact I relished, being stripped to my undies in public places.

It wasn't that I wanted to be seen by others, but the thought of possibly being seen by others was my aphrodisiac.

As I continued to lay on my back he placed his hand on my lower abdomen letting his extended fingers play with the waist band of my panties.

I didn't quite know what to expect as his usual attack was to slide his hand up my thigh until it found my moistening crotch.

This time his frontal assault was from above instead of below.

I sucked in my stomach in anticipation of what might follow.

As he continued to slide his fingers along the waist band of my sheer panties, one finger after the other found itself under the elastic.

He continued to move his hand back and forth across my abdomen until the fingers reached the very top of my trimmed muffin.

This was the first time that he was touching any part of me concealed by my panties.

Up to this point all of his fondling was through the nylon fabric of my undies. This time he knew consciously or unconsciously that I was ready for direct contact.

I unconsciously moved my legs apart putting out my welcome mat to his arrival.

Once he reached my mound the sliding motion stopped and I felt his fingers move straight downward until the tips of the longest two where exploring the opening space between my salivating lower lips.

Bolts of sexual electricity shot through me. Until this day, only my fingers had ever occupied this spot.

I was salivating like crazy from both sets of lips.

His middle finger easily found my slick pearl and began to polish it slightly moving it up and out from between my lips.

I arched my back in total supplication to his efforts luxuriating in the raw sensuality of his motions.

I don't think that I had ever played with myself any better than he was at this time.

It wasn't long before I was moving my groin in a rhythm to match his ministrations.

My mouth emitted soft little groans and moans of Uh, Uh, and Oh, Oh.

I reached for the crotch of his pants hoping to reciprocate, but he wouldn't let me.

He wanted to watch me orgasm instead; unprotected, exposed, and submissive. So I did.

As the spasms took over my body the feeling of the grass rubbing against the sheer fabric separating my bare skin from the earth only served to intensify everything as it was a continuous reminder that I was outdoors barely dressed and orgasming.

God, it was the best orgasm that I had ever had; at least to that point.

The entire time that I shook and shimmied in orgasmic bliss the sounds of people so close to us only served to reinforce my desire to have sexual experiences in public places.

When you experience such incredible orgasms your mind stores the entire experience in great detail to try and duplicate it in the future as often as possible.




Exposed Ch. 07



How many of us still remember decades later our first time experiencing any sexual act?

I was now addicted to the combination of feelings that came with outdoor sex. The conflict of fear, anxiety, and unmitigated arousal was what I craved.

I didn't know whether I would ever be the same again. 

Next: On to a married life.



Exposed Ch. 08 Pt. 01



First Years of Marriage

Settling in Period

Our first couple of years of marriage were pretty much routine both sexually and otherwise. We certainly had sex on a regular basis, since we now had a marriage license to make it totally acceptable. Although the frequency was greatly improved, there was something missing. It seems that stripping in cars or outdoors to show off was more arousing for me than sex in a bedroom. 

We experimented with various positions and places in our apartment, but I think we both missed the risk of being discovered. My husband preferred taking me while either wearing a skirt or dress with my panties still on. It felt more spontaneous than climbing under the covers and doing it and it reminded me of when we were still dating.

I no longer delved into any risqué behavior such as outdoor exhibitionism other than what a normal twenty plus year old would choose to wear. Everything fit tight or short or both.

My first job as a married woman was as a salesperson in a women's clothing store at the local mall. I had a great employee discount and the store catered to women my age and the manager encouraged us to wear things off the rack while we were working. Thus I could experiment with styles and fits to find what suited me best. I found that I really liked things extremely short or tight or both. I also liked materials that were a bit transparent.

This all may sound like I wanted to be looked at, however it was typical of most women my age to dress a bit provocatively.

My husband had a thing for sexy panties, which certainly influenced my own ideas of what was considered sexy. I liked how tight and tiny panties felt on me and enjoyed showing apparent panty lines or hints of what I was wearing with semi transparent fabrics. My bras were becoming more grown up. I wore mostly underwire styles preferring styles with half cups and lace trim. This way my breasts were always pushed up as if being served on a lace lined platter. It also placed my nipples just under the lace borders so they could be seen.

My husband loved to pick out my bras and panties, often surprising me with presents of very sexy lingerie. I was developing quite a wardrobe of very delicate half cup bras, teeny, tiny bikini panties, and matching or coordinating garter belts and stockings of all shades and colors. I felt sophisticated and extremely sexy.

I also was becoming more and more comfortable wearing clothes that showed me off. 

I previously posted the following story under the pen name HarleyFatboy1 with the title 'Not So Mellow Yellow'. It is a perfect example of my interpretation of how I thought a woman should dress when I was first married.

I was 21 years old and contrary to most women's opinion, I thought that showing an obvious panty line under my tight pants was very sexy. I loved wearing teeny, tight bikini panties including the looks that I received when I wore tight pants, and/or short skirts and dresses.

I wasn't purposely looking for attention, but as most young women I enjoyed any kind of confirmation that I warranted a second look. Working in a mall in a women's clothing store exaggerated my desire to look good as I felt constantly judged by other women. Whenever I received a second look from a man or a compliment from another woman I would feel really good which only further encouraged my fashion choices.

It seemed that I had found my style and was becoming more and more comfortable with it. 

When you are young and trying to act grownup there does seem to be a tendency to show off. My interpretation of a grownup women was essentially to dress a bit like a vixen.

One evening we were invited to join another couple to see a musical that was being performed outdoors in a tent. I wanted to show how adult I was and picked a fabulous bright yellow sweater top and mini skirt combination from the store where I worked. I used my lunch hour to buy a matching yellow bra and bikini panty set to wear underneath. I also found a pair of yellow fabric platform sandals to coordinate the entire outfit. I thought that I would be the star of the evening.

When I got home, I had just enough time to change and head out to the tent theater with my husband. My sweater top and mini skirt fit like a glove and along with my platform sandals, I was showing a lot of leg. My husband wore a light blue dress shirt, navy sport coat and khaki's. We appeared to be so grownup and fashionable I thought.

We got to the theater parking lot, parked the car, and then headed to the refreshment area outside of the tent where we were meeting our friends. When we walked up to them, our friends looked at me and said simultaneously, "Wow, you look great". I was incredibly flattered thanking them for the nice compliment. It turned out my look was bit revealing as only a short time later his wife took me aside as our husbands talked and told me that she could see right through my sweater ensemble.

It seems that as everything was outside except for the show itself, the setting sunlight was having a magical effect on my outfit. The light was making my top and mini skirt transparent, and my yellow bra and teeny panties were in full view for everyone to see. As I looked around at the other patrons, who were primarily 40 or older, I saw most of the men and some of the women giving me subtle and not so subtle looks.

I went over to my husband and asked, "Can you see my underwear?" in a very quiet and tentative voice. He took a couple of steps back and looked at me. His large grin gave me the answer that I was dreading. I was mortified, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to hide behind my husband as well as our friends, since they both were now quite aware of my exposure.

My intent for the evening was to show how sophisticated and fashionable I could be, and instead I was giving everyone a good look at my yellow nylon bra and panties. And the sun was not about to set soon. The advantage and disadvantage of the summer sun is how late it sets in the evening as well as how bright it shines up to its last ray of light.

Just like most women in their twenties and beyond, I enjoyed being looked at, but my intention for drawing attention was to be sophisticated, trendy, and elegant. Instead it was my semi transparent outfit that was getting the most attention.

We had made a point of arriving early, so for the next 45 minutes I watched every male and just about every female look me over from top to bottom, that is from my neck to my thighs. I collected about as many smiles and winks as looks of surprise and disapproval.

It brought me back to my days of dating when my "too short" skirts were critiqued by my mother. My insecurities were coming on in full force. It wasn't until my female friend turned to me and said, "I think that you look great," that I was able to compose myself. I was able to remind myself that I enjoyed being and feeling sexy and to try and fit in only inhibited my true nature.

I came to love that sweater outfit and wore it quite often that summer no longer caring what else could be seen whenever I wore it. In fact putting it on would fill me with a sense of excitement and anxiety knowing that my undies could be seen through the knit material. This sense of mixed emotions only could have come about because the primary age group of the theater patrons was 10 years older than myself. If we had been all around the same age I doubt that I would have stood out so much.

Little did I know at the time that the seed that had been planted while dating my husband regarding the feeling of excitement and anxiety was being nurtured and would come to influence much of my risqué behavior later in life.

Our Next Two Years

After two years of both of us working at the mall, my husband felt that he needed to start a real career. He began work at a company and had a desk job with potential to grow. I went back to working in a dental office along with wearing my very short uniform dresses.

We both were enjoying the change although nothing really adventurous was happening sexually. We still confined ourselves to indoor sports with me showing nothing more outdoors than most other young women my age.

I did however have a chance encounter that brought me close to exhibiting my earlier tendencies.

My husband played on a company softball team and I would always go with him to the games. Every time we showed up he would be surrounded by a group of young women that worked in his department. They were almost like groupies. My husband is tall and slender with male model type looks and has always attracted looks from other women. I never felt that I was the jealous type but for some reason the way these women gathered around him totally ignoring me made me resentful.

After one particular game as the team would always gather at a local bar, I found myself bothered by the attention my husband was receiving. As I was sitting at the end of the table feeling sorry for myself, a male coworker of my husband's came over and began to talk to me. He obviously could tell that I wasn't happy and possibly saw me as an easy target. He flirted with me eventually asking whether I wanted to go with him to his apartment complex and use the pool. I replied that I didn't have a swimming suit with me, which was an obvious statement. His response that I could wear my underwear caught me by surprise. It wasn't that I wasn't expecting this response, but it was my reaction to it. My entire body started to vibrate as the familiar waves of anxiety mixed with anticipation overtook me.

Nothing about this young man would have prompted me to join him, however his suggestion that would have me strip in front of him made me tingle in a very delectable manner.

I even went over to my husband to ask whether I could go just to get his attention and to let him know that someone was 'hot' for me as well. Although I could tell that my husband was upset he remained composed and told me that it was my decision to make. Neither one of us wanted to tell the other what they should or shouldn't do despite our own feelings on any subject.

I went back to the other man and thanked him for the invitation but it just wouldn't be something that I would do. Little did he realize that given the right circumstances it would be exactly something that I would do.

For quite a while afterwards I would fantasize about a scenario where I would strip to my bra and panties in front of a strange man while staring into his eyes to observe his reaction. I hadn't thought about this experience for years and I wonder if the man had been more sophisticatedly seductive whether I would have gone swimming with him.

I am sure that if I had it would've been something that I would have regretted over and over again. Fantasies are so often better than the real thing.

Don't misinterpret this revelation as a hidden desire to forego my wedding vows. I have always been madly in love with my husband and still am. It just is meant to show that under the right circumstances we all have our temptations.



Exposed Ch. 08 Pt. 02



A Move to Another State and a Bonding Experience

As my husband progressed in his career, we started to find ourselves living in different parts of the Midwest.

Our first move took us to an entirely different state than where we had grown up. It would be our first time away from our families and friends. 

My husband left first for a couple of weeks, while I finished out my two week notice to the dentist that I worked for.

At the end of the two weeks I accompanied my husband's boss on a plane trip to join my husband.

We were going to spend the weekend finding a place to live as well as to acquaint me with the city.

I honestly can't remember why his boss was along as it seems a bit unusual now that I remember it.

I intended to make a very sexual impression on my husband as I came off the plane and went shopping to find the right dress and undies.

I found a white summer dress with cherries embroidered all over it. It fit perfectly to accent my posterior without being too tight.

I also found that without adding a slip underneath that the rayon fabric had just enough transparency to give a hint of my bra and panties.

I wore a matching bra and panty set in white. The bra was underwire with my usual choice of half cups making my breasts a much more prominent feature than their size would typically permit.

The panties were small with the elastic making a seductive indentation up the middle of both cheeks.

As I stated earlier the dress fit just tight enough in the bodice and back to provide a glimpse of the effect that my bra and panties would have if seen on their own.

Adding a pair of white 4 inch pumps made the overall effect a bit over the top, but my intent was to be seen. And when I was seen, someone was going to want to take me as much as I wanted to be taken.

I couldn't wait to see my husband's expression when he saw me for the first time.

In my zealousness to achieve seduction I had never even considered what my attire might suggest to anyone else, specifically my husband's boss.

He was a man in my husband's age group whose uncle was CEO of the company thus explaining the responsibility that he had been given which was beyond his experience and abilities. Besides all of that, he thought that he was God's gift to women and the tales of his numerous conquests at work were bandied about amongst everyone.

The moment that he saw me, I knew that I was going to have a challenging plane trip.

Our seats on the plane were together and the entire time he made suggestive remarks to me as well as placing his hand on my leg or arm anytime he wanted to emphasize a point.

I was getting my first lesson in diplomacy as I feigned ignorance to his double entendre's while allowing his touches as long as his hand didn't get too close to my breasts or thighs.

Thankfully the plane ride was only about 40 minutes.

Once we landed he insisted like the gentleman that he wasn't that I precede him off the plane as well as down the gateway.

I can only imagine what he thought of the view that I had innocently created for what I thought would be my husband's eyes only.

The look on my husband's face made up for everything. As he spied me coming out of the gate I saw his eyes grow very wide as an expression of pure delight spread across his face.

I also noticed that he wasn't the only one with such an expression as I seemed to be the center of attention to most every male standing anywhere in the near vicinity.

I felt almost like a model on a runway with everyone watching me saunter over to my husband.

Funny how the unwanted attention from my husband's boss was so easily replaced by the appreciated attention from so many strangers.

I was thoroughly enjoying my brief moment of celebrity.

My husband spent a few moments with his boss while I sat nearby flushed from the excitement of being stared at.

Finally we were on our own.

We picked up my luggage from the carousel and headed out of the airport.

I was a bit sorry that my time in the spotlight was coming to a close.

It was late in the afternoon so we went to get something to eat and while we caught up, I heard over and over from my admiring spouse how great I looked.

Although this had been confirmed quite frequently at the airport I still loved to hear it.

My husband then asked if I wanted to go to a movie, which I found a little surprising as I was dressed for a more intimate kind of activity.

Besides I was feeling quite sexually charged ever since I saw him and was really hoping for an orgasm or two occurring in the very near future.

A bit reluctantly I got back into the car and we drove outside the city limits into a more country type setting.

I couldn't understand what kind of movie theater would be located out in the middle of nowhere until I saw the bright neon lights in the distance as well as a large outdoor movie screen.

We were going to a drive-in.

It was not exactly what I wanted or expected, but all of that changed once the action started. Then it became everything that I had wanted.

We drove inside and parked making sure that we weren't right next to anyone.

Once the movie got started my husband reached over to me and pulled me close to him. We kissed like we hadn't seen each other in weeks which was exactly the case. 

As we made out, his hands explored the top half of my dress fondling my breasts and nipples through the multiple layers of fabric.

I decided to assist his explorations and unbuttoned the top of my dress.

As he continued to squeeze and fondle my very receptive orbs, I groped the front of his pants easily finding a firm tube of flesh.

We continued to kiss and feel each other until we were both breathing like freight trains going up hill.

Just then the perfect solution to our need to go further presented itself. It started to pour. The rain obscured any and every view of all of the cars in the movie lot.

With my dress already unbuttoned it became a simple matter for my husband to pull the shoulders down my arms and off leaving me topless except for my sexy white bra.

I was busy with his pants in my effort to unleash his snake for a more intimate examination.

He pulled me erect and up from my seat yanking my dress completely down so it was now settled around my thighs.

Despite the rain I still looked out the window to guarantee that no one could see us.

It certainly didn't matter to my husband as he plopped me back into my seat stripping me completely of my cherry embroidered dress.

Just as we used to in our dating days, I was now sitting opposite him wearing nothing but my bra and panties.

My husband's company car which we were occupying was a large model SUV. Possibly and most likely in anticipation of my arrival the back seat was folded down leaving a large expanse of carpet to lay down on.

He signaled for me to climb over the front seat watching my behind as I struggled to maneuver myself into the back.

Quickly joining me, his hands began to explore every nook and cranny that was only concealed by a thin layer of white nylon.

I wanted to reciprocate but was lost in the pre-orgasmic feelings coursing through my body.

Without even realizing it my bra had been removed some time during my welcomed molestation.

The sense of being in a public place although somewhat concealed wearing nothing but a pair of very sexy bikini panties and matching white heels brought on my first orgasm.

When the rain just as suddenly stopped I orgasmed for a second time not relating the change in my exposure to its intensity.

I still wasn't fully aware of how aroused I would get being almost naked in public places.

The full awareness or more likely acceptance of this was still years away.

And as the final piece de resistance I received a good shagging.

I couldn't have orchestrating a more perfect reunion.

Other than our momentous reunion the move was a bit stressful taking me away from my family for the first time. 

Subsequently I began to gain weight which I never had to worry about before.

The extra pounds added to the additional stresses of my husband's new position as well as adversely affecting our sex life.

I no longer felt very sexy particularly when nothing fit well and I looked fat.

As with most women the weight that I had gained settled exclusively in my hips, buttocks and thighs.

Sex had become less important to me as I no longer saw myself as desirable.

I was in a funk and my husband knew it.

One Saturday he suggested that we do something different and asked me to put on one of my old dental assistant outfits which now fit extremely tight on me as it was at least two to three sizes too small.

Thank goodness for nylon lycra fabrics.

This one was in a deep burgundy color with a short sleeve top that zipped in the front much like a jacket.

The pants were in the same color and pulled on instead of zipped or buttoned.

I basically looked like a sausage encased in a burgundy skin.

The nylon pants fit so tight that my panty line was completely visible, front and back, to the point that the stitching and flower design were readily apparent.

I should have felt sexy, but instead I felt ashamed.

My husband told me to pretend that I was at work.

I reluctantly did as he suggested and while I was in the bedroom with my back to the door he snuck up behind me quickly gagging me and forcing me down on the bed.

I was honestly scared. Although I had known him for close to 6 years now, I wasn't sure what he had in mind.

Even when we think that we completely know someone, do we really?

A part of me thought that my gaining weight had made him angry and that I was going to be punished.

I am sure that he could see the look of surprise and fear in my eyes as he tied a scarf tightly around my open mouth.

His look that caused me concern and at the same time send a very seductive tingling sensation down between my legs.

I was getting aroused. 

I had never thought that the feeling of being helpless and vulnerable to another would be so exhilarating.

I was forced to lie on my back on the bed while my hands and feet were tied to the bedposts with scarves.

I put up a lackluster struggle only to hide the fact that I liked what he was doing, which only aroused me that much more.

It brought back all of the memories of the game that I have written about previously. How as a young girl I played a version of cops and robbers with my girlfriend. The two of us would pretend to be helpless victims with our hands above our heads and tied to two pegs in my garage.

This game went on for weeks when one Saturday we found ourselves again tied up. Only this time while we were helpless and to the delight of the other boys, one of our playmates pulled our shorts down revealing our flowered undies. 

Instead of feeling outraged, my girlfriend and I both enjoyed our unexpected popularity and notoriety among our playmates.

This became the new routine until our parents caught us and ended my early sojourn into exhibitionism.

Now over ten years later I was again helpless to my predicament and my panties were soaked with liquid anticipation.

As I lay there not knowing what was going to happen next, my husband grabbed my breasts and gave them a good squeeze.

I could feel the tingling right between my legs.

He slowly unzipped my top until it was completely open.

My nipples were as hard as little diamonds.

The look in his eyes appeared to what I would imagine a sexy predator's would look like, and I was the unwitting prey.

He pinched my nipples until I couldn't stand much more. I found myself struggling with my bonds trying to lessen the sensual stimulation that he was performing on me.

He reached down between my legs, grabbing my crotch, and pushing two fingers firmly against my very swollen lips.

Although I had two layers of clothing on, I might as well have been naked as I could feel everything.

He began to rub me in a rhythm that had me rolling my eyes into the back of my head.

I was helpless wanting him to stop just temporarily so I could compose myself.

Feeling so aroused with every nerve ending on high alert without any chance to rest was almost too much for me.

I wanted him to stop and to never stop all at the same time.

Finally my husband sat back on the bed and grinned. He obviously was enjoying my predicament.

He left the room and all I could do was to wonder what could possibly come next; other than myself that is.

He came back with an item in each hand. One item was a scissors and the other was a massager that we had purchased when he was having back problems.

I know that this might be hard to believe, but neither one of us ever considered another use for the massager until this very moment.

He plugged the massager into the nearest wall socket and placed it near my hip. Then he took the scissors and slowly started to cut my uniform pants starting at the leg opening at my ankle and working up to my crotch.

All I could do was to lie there feeling the skin tight fabric separating allowing the air conditioned air to form goose bumps on my exposed skin.

When he almost reached my crotch he stopped and slowly started cutting up the other pants leg.

It was feeling more and more like I truly was a captured dental assistant about to be sexually molested by a very handsome and devious captor.

When the other pants leg was completely undone, he carefully slid the scissors along my crotch and snipped the remaining material freeing my lower half as well as completely exposing my red floral patterned nylon panties.

Placing two fingers on the soaked crotch of my panties he easily found my fully awakened kernel.

He reached for the massager and turned it to the lowest setting. The familiar hum was now approaching its unfamiliar target.

I could feel the disturbance in the air caused by the vibrating head before it ever touched me.

I took in a lungful of air not knowing what it would feel like to have it pushed into my wet crotch.

The second the massager found home, I let out a long and loud moan muffled by the scarf tied around my mouth.

My God, how could I not have known about this fabulous use for an electric vibrator.

My legs jerked back and forth trying to open and close while pulling on my silk leg restraints as the most incredible sensations invaded my lower regions.

When my husband flipped the switch to a higher setting, I almost went crazy.

The orgasms started immediately.

He just sat there watching my face contort into expressions of ecstasy as my entire body convulsed over and over again.

Thankfully silk scarves had been used as my bonds as anything rougher would have rubbed my skin raw.

When I thought that I just couldn't take anymore, he continued the onslaught until I was soaked everywhere.

From head to toe I was dripping sweat receiving the most intense workout that I had ever known or felt capable of.

Finally after the longest series of orgasms that I had ever experienced he turned the vibrator off and let me rest.

As I lay there almost passed out from orgasmic exhaustion he untied one arm and one leg and slowly rolled me over onto my stomach.

Due to my extra pounds my panties were stretched to their limit and barely covered my pudgy cheeks.

He retied my free hand to the bed post.

Without any warning he firmly smacked one of my cheeks with his bare hand. I let out a little yelp of surprise and pain as the smack really stung.

I was about to voice a muffled complaint to his new idea, but at the same time that I felt the sting across my bare skin, another area of my body was reawakening.

Something about being tied up and spanked was making me aroused all over again.

With another swing of his hand I felt a second smack sting my other cheek. Again the stinging was followed by that same tingling sensation right between my legs.

I certainly wasn't going to orgasm from this new form of fore play but it sure felt good.

He could see by the expression in my eyes as it changed from one of shock and surprise to one of unexpected satisfaction i.e. that I was enjoying it.

I then received a series of smacks as he hit one cheek followed by the other alternating with a very pleasant massage of my reddening bottom.

My little yelps became moans as I pushed my bottom up towards him encouraging the continuation of my sexual punishment.

Somehow he seemed to know when I had had enough. Any more spanking would have turned into just a painful experience as opposed to the very exhilarating one that I was having.

The problem was that I was now aroused all over again.

Once he untied me I took matters into my own hands and used my most effective oral technique to thank him for capturing me and treating me so deliciously.

This turned out to be one of our favorite role play scenarios, very possibly a hidden aspect of ourselves that would have stayed hidden had we still lived close to my family.



Exposed Ch. 08 Pt. 03



Despite this new found kink in our relationship I rarely instigated sex as I wasn't happy with my weight gain at all. So I decided to do something about it. I had to accept the fact that I had a weight problem and started reading diet and exercise books to find out what would work best for me. 
I started to watch what I ate which previously had been foreign to me and I began to exercise regularly. Within 5 months I was back to fitting into my old clothes. Just in time for the next summer.

I will admit that I liked how I looked and wanted to show myself off. My interest in sexy bras and panties was renewed as well as teeny, tiny string bikini swimsuits.

What I hadn't anticipated was how my progression back to a bikini body would result in revisiting a past experience that I had had with my husband, then boyfriend, when we started dating. He had talked me quite successfully to sunbathe publicly wearing just a t-shirt and a bikini panty. The very contradictory feelings that invaded my body on that day were about to be revisited this many years later.

We were currently renting a two story townhouse that was connected in a row with 7 others. We all had a small patio in the back with a high fence that offered privacy. However all of our bedrooms were upstairs and the back bedroom looked out over each other's patio. So our belief in privacy was a bit of an illusion as our neighbor's on either side could see us anytime they were in their back bedroom and we were outside in our patio.

As I lost weight it seemed to rekindle my husband's desire to put me in risqué situations. Something that he hadn't done since we were dating.

Did I miss his creativity when it came to my exposure? Absolutely!! Was I willing to talk to him about it or even to admit to him that I missed it? Absolutely not!!

I still had an ingrained concept that proper women did not desire to be undressed or coerced to undress in public places nor in seemingly private settings. Any female that did must have something wrong with them, or so I thought. Of course the problem was that I was one of those females.

From what I can ascertain about myself, I am addicted to the contradictory emotions that are brought on whenever I am persuaded to expose myself. The feelings of extreme nervousness, a willingness to submit to another, the sense of daring, sexiness, vulnerability, recklessness, embarrassment, etc., all combined to cause my skin to vibrate with a most pleasurable energy. This along with the look in my husband's eyes when I did as he directed made me feel like the sexiest and most desirable woman on earth.

Sure a part of me wanted to refuse responding to his suggestions with an assertive "No." After all wasn't I a grown woman, and shouldn't I resent being put on display for someone else's pleasure? But the sensations coursing through me easily stifled any thought that I might harbor to protest.

He had found my suppressed desire and/or impulse to be stripped or told to strip in a public setting back when we were dating. And because he enjoyed putting me in these risqué albeit exciting situations I was pretty much and still am at his mercy. Lucky me, I guess? 

It had been quite a while since I had to deal with these conflicts, but again now in my middle 20's I was going to be faced with the decision of "Do I?" or "Don't I?" 

We had formed a habit on weekends of setting out towels on our back patio and lying in the sun. We both wore swimming suits. Since we were no longer living near our parents along with my new found confidence I found myself purchasing more revealing styles. I had always worn a two piece, but now my two pieces were very similar to my bras and panties. The bikini tops were underwire styles with cups that pushed my flesh up and out, while the bikini bottoms were much briefer than any of my previous two pieces often leaving elastic marks up the middle of my cheeks when I took them off not to mention my tan lines. I remember my husband making some sort of comment stating that I might as well be wearing my underwear. This was not meant as a complaint, but more of a compliment as to my choice of swimsuit attire.

I would suspect that besides enjoying seeing me barely covered particularly outdoors, it represented a vulnerability and susceptibility on my part to acquiesce to his desires.

One day as we were changing to lay out, I was undressed to my underwear about to don my bikini. My husband stopped me from going any further and cavalierly suggested that I should wear what I had on. I truly was taken aback by this and replied that our neighbors might see me. Granted I used to love modeling my latest underwear purchases for him, and I did sunbathe once in my underwear, but we were dating then. Haven't we all done things a bit over the top to gain the attention of a member of the opposite sex. Although I had no desire to tan in my bra and panties, that delectable vibration that I used to experience when I did perform for him was arriving unannounced. My mind and body are never in sync whenever he suggests an exhibition from me.

Of course, he replied that even if they did, it would look like my regular swimming suit style. Isn't this exactly the same argument that he used on me when we were dating 5 years earlier? It worked then, so why wouldn't it work now?

I had perfectly good swimming suits to wear outdoors that I was quite comfortable in, so why would I go outside in my bra and panties? In theory my husband's reasoning was valid, however I did not wear t-shirt bras, which easily could double as bikini tops. I preferred and still do prefer sexy bras with half cups in bright colors usually with contrasting lace trim where my nipples generally reside not wanting to be totally covered. They were definitely suited to have an arousing effect on the male viewer and not particularly suited for public display unless someone had a tendency towards submissive and exhibitionist behavior. This certainly doesn't describe me. Right?.........Right? And my style of panties were primarily bikini styles in either a very thin nylon fabric, a satin, or a silk. Often they had sheer panels strategically placed to seduce or various sorts of appliqués or embroidery clearly identifying them as panties and most certainly not a swimming suit bottom.

On this particular day I was wearing a pale yellow demi-cup bra with white lace trim. The back strap and shoulder straps were very thin which did make it look like a bikini top except, as I had come to prefer, my nipples could be seen through the lace trim that bordered the top of the cups. The panties were in a matching yellow with the same white lace trim sewn vertically along the front of each hip. In the bright light of the sun they would become almost transparent particularly since I have very thick dark brown hair. I do trim but it is too painful to take everything off down below; the challenges of having an Irish heritage.

His suggestion, if I can call it that, sounded quite sexy when standing in our bedroom, however now I was standing just inside the sliding glass door to our patio. The glare of the sunlight had me in its high beams and it brought a very different realization into focus. From what I could see just by looking down, both of my nipples and areoles as well as my pubis were clearly visible through the thin nylon material of my bra and panties. I definitely was having second and third thoughts about this latest adventure.

My husband was enjoying my reluctance looking at me with a sly grin and a telltale erection poking forward against the fabric of his swim trunks. Opening the sliding glass door he placed his hand on my lower back and too easily directed me outside. I instinctively wrapped the large towel around my waist covering my yellow panties while at the same time looking at every upstairs window that had a view of our patio. I didn't see anyone looking out, however all they had to do was to stand a few feet away from the glass and I wouldn't be able to see them anyway.

"Come on. Lay down," my husband said still sporting both the smile and the erection.

I quickly unwrapped myself placing the towel on the concrete and laid down on my stomach. Despite any suggestion to the contrary, I felt like I was lying outdoors in plain sight of our neighbors wearing a bra and panty, which in fact was exactly what I was doing. Any pretense of wearing something that could pass as a swimming suit was ridiculous. 

My heart was beating fast and I was having a difficult time catching my breath. Every nerve ending was on high alert as I was sure that I was being spied on by one or more of our neighbors.

I was about to call the latest venture off when I looked over at my husband and saw that look that I love. The look of complete pleasure that tells me I am the sexiest woman on earth.

For the remainder of that summer this became part of our weekend routine although I did find my chance to have a reciprocal arrangement. Not quite a "I'll scratch your back and you can scratch mine," but close.

One weekend we took a quick trip to Toronto and while we were walking through a quaint boutique area of shops I noticed a store dedicated to what I will describe as male exhibitionism on display. It carried a large array of bikini swimsuits that revealed more than your typical speedo. I guess the european cut made the difference. By plying my own suggestive and seductive wiles I persuaded him to try several on and begged him to purchase two pair.

I now had my own 'boy toy' to look at when we were outside in the back. I enjoyed noticing how his measuring stick would grow in reaction to my exposure. More often than not it would barely be contained by the fabric of his very sexy banana hammock. It certainly resulted in some very heavy breathing exercises once we got back indoors.

What I hadn't suspected was what his exposure might suggest for my future.

As summer was coming to a close and we were hoping to get just a few more afternoons in the sun, as usual I was at the sliding back door in my bra and panty with my towel. My husband reached over undoing my bra strap and with very little effort on his part I found myself topless while being led outside the door. His latest variation of my outdoor exposure took me so off guard that I didn't even attempt to cover myself with my towel. There I stood in the bright sunlight with nothing else on other than a mint green bikini panty with series of eyelets across the bottom showing off tiny circles of white flesh where the sun hadn't shown. As is always the case for me, my tiny nipples were sticking straight out. If they had been any bigger I might have been able to hang my towel from them. I glanced over at my husband with a look of dismay only to find a totally different reaction on his face from the one that I had. He was enjoying my latest foray into outdoor exhibitionism immensely. In fact I could say that he was ecstatic over my additional exposure. 

The sun felt fabulous on my bare breasts lighting up my pure white skin with a sexy sort of iridescence. I still hadn't come to a full realization that I was topless outdoors. Or, just possibly, I liked how it felt to be wearing just panties. I definitely liked how my husband was looking at me. It made me tingle all over.

Eventually reality came back to roost and the familiar fear that someone might be watching found me quickly lying down on my stomach to limit my exposure. However the tingling didn't go away for the entire time we were outside.

I didn't want to admit it, but the outside air caressing my bare nipples was quite exhilarating along with the sense of being forced to show off even more of myself to my willing voyeur. After this one time our warm weather ended abruptly as it has a tendency to do in the northern Midwest and I wasn't required to repeat this latest exhibition for close to another 10 years.

Our rekindling of one of our dating rituals ended abruptly as 6 months later my husband took a job that moved us closer to our families and shortly thereafter we began a family. My voyage into motherhood seemed to end any possibility of future outdoor adventures.

Or so I thought. 



Exposed Ch. 09 Pt. 01



Two Children and Eight Years Later.

An Interpretive Dance

Taking on the responsibilities of being a mother puts everything else away in a closet so to speak. 

Just finding time to ourselves seemed to be a thing of the past much less any thought of me putting on any private performances.

My preference for being outdoors in something skimpy didn't entirely disappear as I found myself quite comfortable in a string bikini around my parents and my brothers and sisters as the accompanying photo can attest.



I had had my first child a little more than a year previously and was quite proud of how I had gotten back in shape.

I guess having my first child entitled me to no longer worry about family opinions or perceptions.

It was almost like a rite of passage to become a mother and having my own child. It seemed to allow me to be more myself in front of my family.

I still remember how it felt to step outside in my string bikini to the accompanying whoops and whistles of my brothers and sisters as well as their spouses.

My stomach was filled with butterflies remembering how often my mother would ask me in an admonishing tone, "Are you going to wear that in public?" when I was still a teen.

Now here I was in my early thirties wearing much less than what the term "that" meant and in front of my entire family.

It is interesting how experiences that seemed a big deal when we were younger weren't anything like we perceived them to be.

The photo was taken by my mother and remains a part of her family photo album. On the back of the photo she labeled it with the words "Club Lido."

It was as if she were saying, "My daughter has become a woman."

My interpretation of her wanting to control me was simply her caring about what message I might be sending to a young man on a date.

Thankfully she doesn't know the entire message that I used to deliver. 

Two and a half years later my second child was born without any appreciable change in my outdoor activities i.e. I was still behaving. 

It was frustrating for me to periodically become very sexually charged without any opportunity for expressing my latent desires.

Being sexually charged wasn't quite the same as feeling horny. It was more than that.

When I feel sexually charged, I want to act out, to be and feel sexy, and most importantly to do something risqué. 

One way or the other something was going to give.

That something occurred one summer day when my youngest was napping and my oldest was outdoors playing with the neighbors. I was taking a shower as it had become the last thing that I would do once my daughters were dressed and fed. 

On this particular occasion, I found that my body could feel virtually every single drop of water that hit it and than ran down. I was hypersensitive and becoming very aroused.

I had often found myself quite aroused while performing common daily routines. It was another way that my sexual frustration manifested itself.

Something as simple as vacuuming would find me straddling the vacuum hose making sure that it rubbed my lower lips as I moved it back and forth across the floor.

Wearing a short skirt made it even more special.

But this time it seemed different.

This time it seemed that I needed to act on my hypersensitivity. My children were temporarily occupied which seemed to make the desire to do something almost overwhelming.

I dried myself off as my entire body trembled with some sort of nervous anticipation. I put my robe back on and walked into our bedroom. Opening my lingerie drawer I was greeted with the sight of my very favorite pair of panties. They were a teeny string bikini style in a provocative leopard print.



I should pause here in my narrative to give a better perspective of what leopard print undies were indicative off i.e. at least for me.

From the first time that I saw a bra and panty set in an animal print be it leopard, cheetah, zebra, or other, I felt a stirring in my lower regions.

I had and still have the perception that any woman that chose to wear animal print undies was sexually mature and confident, and wanted to show them off.

I wanted to be that kind of women. So I bought my first pair of leopard print panties.

The first time that I wore them I knew that something was different. I felt alive and sexually adventurous.

I couldn't wait to have them seen by my future husband.

Now here I was over ten years later in a much more abbreviated pair experiencing that exact same feeling.

I wanted to act out and with my children temporarily occupied it seemed the perfect time.

Maybe it is more correct to say that I needed to act out sexually. Like right now.

I pulled on my barely there panties and immediately my nipples reacted as if I had stepped inside a walk in freezer.

They were so hard that they ached from the swelling.

Does this mean that I had a case of "blue nipples?"

I could hardly contain myself as I wanted to grab my crotch and grind myself into orgasm. However my self gratification would have to be delayed for now as I had other plans.

Slipping on a pair of dark brown snakeskin high heels and taking a deep breath to calm myself, I walked out of our bedroom and down the hall with my heels making a distinctive clicking noise on the ceramic flooring.

I felt just like that woman that I imagined when seeing my first pair of leopard print panties.

Because we lived in a split level home, our lower level had full windows either facing out the back to our yard or across to our neighbors.

I hesitated outside our family room making sure that no one was just outside the window facing our neighbors house by taking a quick peek through the entryway.

Satisfied that I would have only one audience member I sauntered suggestively into the family room.

My husband looked away from the TV, which had occupied his attention until my appearance, with his mouth agape.

I relished the look of surprise on his face knowing that he would enjoy my planned performance.

I slowly began to gyrate my hips letting my hands explore all of my erogenous zones.

Caressing my tiny breasts with both hands I pinched my hard nipples between my forefingers and thumbs.

Saliva was starting to fill my mouth and I could feel a small droplet of drool running out of the side of my mouth.

A somewhat unusual side effect when I am very aroused is that I salivate. It seems that my extreme arousal gives me a sort of oral fixation for hardening flesh.

With my head now rolled back and my eyes half-closed, I reached down between my legs rubbing myself until I could feel the moisture starting to soak through my crotch. 

Without any pre-thought whatsoever I found myself on our ceramic floor with my knees pushed wide apart leaning forward onto my extended arms. In this posture I could just barely rub the front of my swelling lower lips on the floor.

I was like a cat or dog when they slide their romps across a floor only I was sliding my crotch.

I stared into my husband's somewhat shocked but very pleased expression as I humped the floor into a state of pre-orgasm.

The wetter that my crotch became the easier I slid.

I had no plan to actually orgasm, but I was beyond the point of controlling my urges.

With my leopard print covered cheeks squeezed as tightly as I could squeeze my entire focus was on keeping my protruding nub stimulated.

While pressing myself firmly down against the floor and wiggling just enough to keep the erotic sensations constant a long awaited series of convulsions took over my body.

I had never masturbated in front of anyone before as I considered it to be a very private and personal act of sexual release, but at the moment I was anything but self-conscious.

I wanted to be outrageous, and I was.

It had been too long.

My head involuntarily arched back as my legs bent upwards at the knees as if my feet were trying to touch the back of my head. At the same time my crotch was pressed against the floor as firmly as possible.

My eyes went out of focus as my concentration was no longer visual.

Sweating from the exertion required to make love to the floor I was emitting little moans as my orgasm took over.

I probably looked like a very satisfied spastic convulsing with every orgasmic wave until their frequency and intensity waned to a mild tingling sensation.

I smiled to myself as I thought, "Well, that released some of my pent up frustration."

However the emphasis was on the word "some" as I was far from completely satisfied.

I most certainly was not done. 

I walked or sauntered suggestively over to my husband straddling his legs so my wet crotch was resting on one knee. Pushing my bare breasts into his face I encouraged him to lick and bite my eagerly awaiting nipples as I used his knee in the same manner that I had just used the floor.

As the pressure was again building between my legs not to mention my husband's own filling squirt gun, I happened to focus out the window which was just over my husband's shoulder to see my neighbor and friend watching from behind a partially closed curtain.

I don't think that I could have moved much faster springing off of my husband's lap and his encouraging tent pole. I ran away from the couch shaking with embarrassment and humiliation.

The idea of having my neighbor watching me as I sexually performed rocked my sense of security.

I had no idea how much of my show was seen by her, but she certainly had a perfect view of my nipples being sucked.

I was absolutely mortified wondering how I would ever face her again.

For just a few seconds it seemed to be the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to me.

I am sure that being so sexually aroused while at the same time seeing my neighbor's eyes looking directly at me caused my already overloaded senses to overreact.

Obviously I knew that most couples have sex, but this felt so invasive of our privacy. 

Once I was out sight I began to laugh uncontrollably knowing that undoubtedly I would have done the same thing had I seen my neighbor and her husband having sex.

My husband had no idea what had just happened until I motioned to the window and let him know that our neighbor had been watching my almost naked activities.

He casually glanced over his shoulder and saw our neighbor's curtains quickly close.

It just seemed so typical that the exact moment I needed to act out, instead of having to worry about our daughters walking in unexpectedly, I picked my moment to perform almost directly in front of a window that faced our neighbor's kitchen.

Because we were on a lower level from her spy perch, she undoubtedly was able to see my lack of clothing and possibly my floor dance and resulting orgasm.

To add to my frustration, almost immediately after scrambling away from the window our front door sprung open and the question, "What's for lunch?" sent me scurrying back to the bedroom to get dressed.

I was once again resolved to behaving myself and fulfilling my role as a still sexually frustrated mother.

My poor husband was relegated to hiding his physical reaction to my performance by quickly placing a sofa pillow across his lap while our daughter yelped and played in front of him, while I prepared our lunch with a soaking crotch and an unrequited yearning for what might have been.



Exposed Ch. 09 Pt. 02



Office Antics

My husband and I were at that point where many couples get to with young children i.e. too busy with too little time for ourselves.

It was frustrating to be so totally focused on everything else other than time to be together, but I just accepted that this was the way it was after you started a family.

What we did in our twenties seemed to be long ago and no longer appropriate.

I had pretty much put aside my fantasies of scantily clad adventures and had simply come to desire adult conversation and time to ourselves.

Just to dress up and go out would be such a luxury.

So we decided to set a specific evening aside for what we referred to as "our date night". We would schedule a sitter and go out to dinner or a movie or whatever else suited our fancy.

It would be a perfect opportunity for us to be on our own and to catch up on each other's lives.

Our first "date night" was fast approaching and I wanted to wear something special. I had my dress all picked out, but I wanted to have something underneath that made me feel sexy.

I had purchased a black and white satin striped bra and garter belt set a number of weeks before, but could never find the right panties to coordinate with it. And besides we never had time to ourselves anyway, so it really didn't matter.

But when I opened my lingerie drawer, there the set was front and center as if demanding me to put it on.

I think that my lingerie drawer is talking to me.

First, the leopard print string bikini panties, and now my satin striped bra and garter belt set.

I committed to find a pair of panties that day so I could wear my lingerie set for our first date night.

After my oldest had left for school I gathered up my youngest and headed to the mall. 

I decided to first check the department stores as they had more of an assortment than you know who.

The moment I entered the lingerie dept. I saw them. They were the tiniest string bikini panties in black with white polka dots on the front and a completely sheer back. The borders of the panties had a decorative black lace scalloped edge, and the string sides were literally a string of stretchy nylon.

A polka dot pattern seemed the ideal compliment to my striped satin bra and garter belt set.

I didn't even try them on knowing that they were perfect.

If anything they might be too small, which would still be perfect.

I always liked the feeling of having my cheeks only partially covered, although I have never been much of a fan of thongs. Thus a bit too small panties fit me and my style to a T.

The next night I was ready having put on a black short sleeve sweater dress with a squared neck line. It zipped up the back from my panty line to my neck.

And, of course, underneath I had on my perfectly coordinated bra, bikini, and garter belt set. I wore black stockings along with a pair of brown snake skin pumps with 4 inch heels.

One look in our full length mirror seemed the perfect antidote to having worn "mommy" clothes for so long.

I hadn't felt so good about myself in quite a while.

Feeling the sweater material of my dress against my bare skin made me feel exposed, which catered perfectly to my need to feel like I did in my twenties before a date.

My attire really had nothing to do with the thoughts of having sex or exposure. I just wanted to feel sexy. 

It is much like when I would go on dates as a young woman. I liked to wear sexy panties and short skirts just to feel good about myself and to put that look in my dates eyes that told me I looked great.



When I came to the door to greet my husband as he came home from work, he had that look in his eyes that I hadn't seen since my erotic dance in our family room.

This seemed to be on its way to being a memorable night.

How memorable it turned out to be was beyond my expectations.

Dinner was fabulous. I couldn't believe how much I missed the exclusive company of my husband.

Just to spend time in the company of another adult was a luxury that I had missed so much. And considering that the adult was a very handsome male made it that much more pleasurable.

I loved the looks that we received from other couples. Even the wait staff seemed to pay us special attention.

I harbored no thoughts of sex or engaging in any risqué behavior. It really was just about spending alone time together.

I know, I know.

You are wondering why I was wearing something so sexy underneath my dress, if I had no plans to play.

As I stated before, I simply wanted to feel good about myself.

And this is how I dress up for virtually any occasion i.e. weddings, formal parties, dinner dates, etc.

I simply enjoy feeling sexy and provocative.

Now to contradict my previous statement, by the time our meal ended I hatched a plan to hitch my dress up over my waist on the way home, then kneel on the front seat of the car, and suck on some creme boule as a special 'thank you' to my date for such a wonderful evening.

It had been quite a while since I had given him an auto erotic experience, and since he always loved to see my nylon covered bottom bobbing up and down as I made his penis my personal popsicle, it seemed the perfect way to show my appreciation. 

I didn't want the evening to end and I thought that by providing some extracurricular activity on the way home my husband would want to schedule another "date night' as soon as possible.

Yes, I can use my womanly wiles to get my way of I need to.

And besides I do enjoy a little cream with my coffee.

As we were heading towards what I thought to be home I started to reach for my seat belt as a prelude to my oral exam. At precisely the same time my husband told me that he needed to stop in the office to pick up some papers that he had forgotten.

I was a bit surprised as he didn't like his current job or boss so the idea of bringing work home seemed unlikely.

My initial reaction was to question him as to why, but since I hadn't as yet seen his office I thought, "Why not?".

After all it would extend our alone time together and what I had planned for the ride home could wait a little longer.

We parked outside and entered the building. He was in charge of a small regional sales office that was located on the seventh floor of an office building.

The building was a red brick structure just off of one of the city's main arteries. We were there in a flash and pulled into the parking lot at the back of the building.

He came around to my side and opened my door. As I slid out of the car I could feel the material of my dress stick to the fabric of the car seat.

As I exited the car my legs were uncovered to the top of my thighs giving my date i.e. husband, a full look at my stocking tops, garter straps and the start of my black and white polka dot patterned crotch.

I looked into his eyes and saw a slight change in his expression.

It was the kind of expression that often filled me with nervous anticipation.

We walked through the front door into a small lobby area and proceeded to the elevators.

Once the doors closed he reached around my back and gave my bottom a good hard squeeze. 

It may have been my imagination or a projection of my own feelings, but there seemed to be a sense of urgency in his groping of my bottom.

I knew then that I needed to follow through on my plan once we got back into the car.

It was obvious that both of us were feeling a bit horny.

What I couldn't understand was how goosebumps appeared all over my arms and legs.

I have had my cheeks grabbed many times before, but there was something more to this particular molestation. 

I passed it off as my own pre-performance anxiety.

After all having my head down and my bottom sticking up often left me exposed to the prying eyes of other motorists and tonight my panties had a completely sheer backside.

I realize that I refer to myself as an exhibitionist, however if I was trying to be more accurate, my exhibitionist tendencies are more related to performing for a single individual.

The thought of possibly being seen by others is very arousing to me, but I don't intentionally seek an audience nor desire one.

So it seemed only natural to me to be a little nervous prior to our ride home.

Despite the fact that we lived in a reasonably sized city, you never knew who might just happen to be driving alongside of you while you performed fellatio on your date.

Years ago I had had my little running with the police while "parking" with my date and the memory had never quite left my mind.

His hand didn't quite stop with groping my bottom, but explored the outline of my garter belt along with my back garter straps as they passed inside the fabric of my polka dot panties and then continuing down my legs to attach to my stockings.

He already knew that I had on his favorite style of lingerie i.e. garter belt, stockings, and string bikini panties because of the peek that he was given in the parking lot, but his groping hand further confirmed it.

I was trembling as we passed some cleaning people in the hallway on the way to his office. We both smiled at the crew and said, "Hi." I wondered whether they noticed my flushed complexion brought on by the sense of premonition that I had gotten in the elevator.

Or maybe it was simply that my date's hand hadn't left my bottom since our elevator ride.

It can be just a bit unsettling if not embarrassing to have your bottom squeezed while you are greeting a group of strangers.

As we passed them I didn't dare to turn around to see whether anyone noticed. 

My apprehension was increasing with every step towards his office.

My husband hadn't acted so overtly sexual since before we had children, and it was something that I was no longer accustomed to.

He lead me down the hall to the front door of his office.

All of the office doors were recessed with two large rectangular windows on either side to be able to see in and a small square sign with the company's name on the wall next to the door. 

He unlocked the door while at the same time giving me a little firmer squeeze on my bottom again feeling the outline of my string panties.

I was getting wet.

He opened the door closing it behind us.

The front area was an open space with four desks and a small seating area for clients. I figured that it was where the administrative staff worked.

The colors were in muted tones of gray and mauve. The furniture was all in light tan. It was all pretty nondescript except for a set of four large framed prints on the walls that were full of bright colors very similar to Roy Lichtenstein pop art. 

They completely changed the tone from one of a drab business setting to a much more fun one.

I was sure that my husband had picked the art work out as it was his style to not be overly serious in any situation.

I began to imagine what it would be like to work in an office such as this wearing stockings and garter belts as opposed to the typical pantyhose knowing that from time to time my dress would ride up high enough to reveal my garter straps and stocking tops.

The thought of being seen by an attractive co-worker or executive sent a ripple of excitement through me.

I was happy that my husband had decided to stop at his office, as I was most certainly getting into the mood of my planned performance for the ride home. 

As my imagination began to consider other possibilities I felt two fingers push the fabric of my dress into the space between my legs easily finding my already swelling lower lips.

I gasped from the suddenness of his assault while simultaneously moving my feet apart to provide him better access.

The pressure continued eliciting a soft moan to escape between my other set of lips.

Releasing his hold on my crotch, I felt both hands take a hold of the back of my dress. Down came my zipper letting a rush of cool air caress my almost bare back.

I was either too surprised to react or didn't want to when the shoulders of my dress were pulled down my arms.

Before I knew it I was standing in the waiting area of his office wearing my coordinating stripes and polka dots. 

I am a mother of two young children, who truly thought that my days of risqué behavior were over, yet here I was standing in a regional sales office wearing nothing but a half bra with two nipples poking out over the top, a matching garter belt with black stockings, and a teeny, tiny polka dot string bikini panty with a completely sheer back and a soaking crotch.

For God's sake a cleaning crew had just passed us mere seconds ago in the hallway, all of whom could easily reappear just outside the side windows of the front door.

This is not how you treat someone who is trying to establish themselves as a role model for two young children.

However it is exactly how you treat someone who has a submissive sexual personality.

I do believe that we are all creatures with multiple personalities. How we behave in the workplace, at home, or sexually can and often are very different.

My sexual personality which derives from what makes me the most aroused is to be submissive to another's wants and desires.

I am far from comfortable being stripped to my undies in a business office or any other public place, however my sexual personality relishes it.

My conservative mother personality reacted immediately and I quickly reached down to my ankles, to grab my dress, and pull it northward, however as I bent forward a hard smack stung my barely covered bottom.

I jumped in response to his stinging retort on my rump causing me to walk right out of the black sweater dress.

Getting myself covered quickly was no longer an option as my dress no longer covered any part of me including my ankles.

Turning around I saw the look that always brought goosebumps to my skin and a funny kind of anxious feeling in my stomach. It was the same look that resulted in me being tied to our bed a few years prior with a massager applied to my lower lips causing me to almost pass out from the exquisite sensations enveloping my entire being.

It was the sort of look that told me that my dress was only the beginning as I was about to be stripped of any sense of proper behavior or propriety.

It was the look that told me that only one thing was now paramount to him, i.e., my total and complete submission to his desires.

It was as if my just previous imaginings of working in an office setting were coming to life, although being stripped to my underwear hadn't quite been a part of them.

I now knew that this was the reason that I felt such a sense of apprehension in the elevator. When you have lived with someone long enough you often can get a sense of their unspoken thoughts or desires.

What I had sensed in the elevator was about to be played out, and I was nervous.

Despite my concerns regarding our public locale my entire body tingled in anticipation of what might be in store for me. 

Leaving my dress lying on the floor just inside the door, I was lead to the office's single conference room.

It was your typical conference room with a long rectangular table occupying most of the space with chairs set around it on all sides.

Windows to the outside covered an entire wall, although at this height only the birds would have a good view of me in my undies or anyone looking through the windows from the hallway.

A fact that I was still quite aware of.

And with my dress now several feet away a tinge of embarrassment due to my unplanned exposure was bringing on a very anxious feeling.

A part of me wanted to resist, but that part wasn't quite in control.

The conference room light was left off, however the lights from the reception area illuminated the end of the table that I was directed to.

The chair on the end closest to us was pushed out of the way and I was turned so my front faced the now unobstructed end of the conference table.

His left hand reached around to my lower stomach finding the tiny space of bare skin that existed between my garter belt and panties. Slowly he slid it down until his fingers were inside the front of my panties. I felt his index finger locate my now protruding female nub as he kneaded it like a tiny roll of slick and slippery dough.

I moaned as exquisite sensations invaded my erogenous zone.

Despite my initial misgivings I knew that I would have no real resistance to whatever may happen next.

My sexual personality had taken over.

Possibly sensing my initial hesitation or simply following through on his own desire to control my submissive nature, I was bent over the large table as his fingers continued to perform their magic between my legs.

I reached out to the sides grasping both ends of the conference table in essence splaying myself as if to indicate my full compliance to his sexual whims. 

My eyes were closed so I had no premonition of what would occur next, when I felt the second stinging slap of his firm right hand across my almost bare cheek.

The sound of flesh on flesh resounded inside the conference room as did my vocal gasp of surprise and pain.

The echo of my sexual expression was surprisingly arousing and my jerking reaction to his unexpected onslaught only resulted in a stronger sensation of delectable pleasure as his fingers rolled across my swollen nub.

Another loud smack across my bottom send shivers up and down my spine as the combination of pain and pleasure took hold.

Both sensations were almost indistinctive bringing a feeling of warmth across all of my exposed skin.

Moisture was exuding from every pore and despite my earlier apprehension I was becoming very, very aroused.

My very active imagination went into overtime and I now pictured myself as an assistant for this handsome executive, who was currently demonstrating his displeasure with my work performance by spanking me publicly over the end of the office's conference room.

I further imagined the office staff gathered around to observe my humiliating punishment.

Being stripped to my undies and publicly spanked was a very frequent fantasy of mine that often resulted in a very satisfying session of self-pleasure.

Since the pleasure this time was being administered by my date it was almost as if my fantasy was real.

My entire body was reacting to the physical and mental stimulation as every part of me vibrated in a frenzy of excitement.

Coming back to reality, I tried to glance over my shoulder towards the other room wondering whether the cleaning crew was still roaming the hallways, but another smack across my willing flesh brought my focus back to my sexual longings.

With my eyes shut tight I could see the small group of male and female co-workers gathered around the conference table watching my sheer nylon covered cheeks clench in anticipation of every stinging retort.

The feeling of sexual and physical humiliation was bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I raised my buttocks slightly off of the table in a submissive greeting to his next smack continuing to emit little reactive grunts of pain and pleasure. 

As my final response to the multitude of stimuli my entire body tightened up as one single muscle and a series of uncontrolled and almost violent spasms overtook me.
I was orgasming and making the guttural sounds to confirm it.

No longer having any concern for who might hear me or be nearby, I gave myself over to the raw animal pleasure of not one, but multiple orgasms that took me over.

I probably looked like a wet fish out of water flopping uncontrollably on the table top.

I was not only wet between my legs but now over my entire body.

Being spanked and felt up in an office setting seemed to be the perfect aphrodisiac for a woman that had properly behaved herself for the past many years.