The Readers Challenge

Hi everybody,


This is just a little warm-up blog to get me back into the swing of things, as it's been a while!

This blog is detailing an event that happened back in February of this year, and is really being written about as an example of the potential interactivity that can come from this blog. We all know that I encourage feedback and comments, although I don't get that much, and we have random polls and things at various times as well, and I try to get you all involved a bit. But of course the absolute best way to interact from this blog is simply to talk to me. Send me e-mails , add me to yahoo messenger (both blogtease13@yahoo.co.uk), and I try my best to reply fully to everybody, and with some people I do click with them and we become friends, sharing regular e-mails and messenger chats etc, sharing thoughts, opinions, experiences, and they often get to hear a lot of stories that I don't get a chance to share in my blog.
So that's the moral of this story – I'm always up to chat with like-minded people if anybody wants to get in touch with me. I haven't been on messenger much for a few months, but under normal circumstances I try and log on at least a couple of times a week for an hour or two. And when I'm really busy it can take a while to reply to e-mails, even to those I chat to regularly, there may be a couple of months in between e-mail chats sometimes, but that's life.
Anyway, onto the story, and the reason for all that info above is that this story is about a “challenge” that a reader of this blog – let's call him P – who I've been chatting to fairly regularly for a while set for me at the start of the year. The challenge was to take a vibrator and a pair of hand-cuffs with me to work, leave them in my bag, and leave my bag open and in view for a period of time to let people see these “interesting” items in my bag, and to see what kind of reaction it may get, if any.
I performed my challenge on a random Tuesday at the end of February 2012, when I was out of the office and at another office within the business, at a meeting/forum where I was there to offer financial support to some of the managers within our business whilst they prepared their departments financial budgets for the forthcoming year. If you've read many of my blogs before, then you know that my day job is of course as an accountant.
So here is my story, as told to P after the event earlier this year.

…
I went off to work, bag packed with an 8” bright pink vibrator, and a pair of hand-cuffs. It was a material hand bag with a zip closing, but obviously being made of material and not something more sturdy, if you leave the zip open, and just put it on the floor, it flattens out somewhat, giving everything in it a good chance of being seen, as if everything is just placed on top of the bag rather than being in it. So perfect for this challenge.
J said I should try and drop my bag and have the offending objects (potentially) fall out, which I did plan on looking at trying to do if the opportunity arose. Unfortunately, the room layout of the room I was in wasn’t as I remembered it. I actually don’t think it was ever like how I remembered it! I think I imagined a whole different room completely! Lol. I thought it had desks/tables around the edge and a gap in the middle – like a u-shape type of setup. So having that in my head, I thought, okay, put my bag on the desk, knock it off into the space in the middle, and then I’ll have to walk around the desks to pick it back up, giving it a good 10-15 seconds of being on the floor, being visible to everybody around the room, and putting me in the middle of the room, bending down to pick everything up.
But no, the room didn’t have a u-shape of desks – it had one big rectangular bank of tables, as thinking back now I’m actually sure it always has! So I couldn’t quite do what I had outlined as a possibility in my mind.
I always think challenges like this promote “thinking on your feet” though, so I always look at them as being a mental challenge as well as a physical challenge.
And it was tough on both fronts; thinking of ways to do it in a non-obvious way, and always being on the lookout for the opportunity to arise and then trying to take it quickly. And of course, physically putting myself into a situation with colleagues that I may not have too much contact with, which although on one hand may seem easier, and probably is as you don’t get any long-term face-to-face backlash, but on the other hand it can be harder than doing things with those that you know better. Not knowing how people will necessarily react. Those people not knowing me enough to put the situation into context. And of course, as fun as it may seem in theory, leaving people with one stand-out memory of you in that way can be a bit weird. They may go away and mention it to others, and then the rumour-mill starts rolling, once again potentially without the right context, and you become known amongst those you do know and those you don’t know as “the girl who brings handcuffs and a bright pink dildo to work”.
But what you really want to know is, did I complete my challenge? The answer is yes, but not to the high standard I’d hoped when I played scenario’s through my head about how I could or would complete it.
Me and my boss (female) were there from about 10am til 4pm, and we had 9 other people there throughout the day, although they weren’t all there all day. So, for the first part of the day I was splitting my time between one female colleague , and one male colleague, we were trying to give everyone as much one-on one time as we could, but obviously if we sat with each person for 4 hours straight we’d have had to put a lot of time in the calendar, plus in that time people have to do other things, so everybody breaks for phone calls or to chase up other things, so it worked out well with us giving everybody enough one-on-one time to take them through the intricacies of their financials, and then just being around for support and to offer advice.
Anyway, in the first part of my day, the guy I was with was the head of our security department, he’s a nice enough guy, but his whole job is to be straight laced and by the book. When I say head of security, I don’t mean security guards, I mean risks to the business, fraud, theft, security systems, the people in charge of making sure everybody had ID and that people check ID’s etc etc. So I decided against doing anything with him on that whole basis. He may have got a tiny glimpse or two of stocking top as I crossed my legs a few times though, but I thought I’d be best off not going too far with him. lol
The afternoon proved a bit more fruitful though, as we had some more guys in whose jobs weren’t to be so straight laced. A couple of whom I speak to on the phone quite a lot, so they already know my flirty side. Again, I ended up sitting between two people, it would have been absolutely great to have been sandwiched between the two guys I phone-flirt with so much, as silly as it may sound, little things like that actually do really make my day! Lol. Only one of them I’d actually met in person before – we first met in person at a work event actually probably about 18 months ago, where we had a conference and then stayed in the hotel overnight, and he obviously took a liking to me as at the end of the night I got a cheeky invite up to his hotel room! I, of course, politely declined! Lol.
But alas that was just a pipe dream and my boss stole one of my guys away from me! It was quite funny as we greeted each other with big smiles and friendly chat when he came in, and of course he immediately came across to me and went to set himself up next to me, before my boss stepped in and said that it would probably be best if she went through his budgets with him. A fair point, as his is one of the more complicated ones, and dealing with that is why she gets paid 15K a year more than me! But there were two disappointed little faces for a second when she said it.
So I ended up working with my other phone-flirting partner-in-crime, who was much more quiet and reserved in person, a bit of a shy one to be honest. I understand that though, I’m actually quite shy. If you believe that you’ll believe anything! Haha. No, I’m joking, I really am, and I grew up generally quiet and shy, I have gotten over it and to the untrained eye most people wouldn’t spot it nowadays, but it’s still there, just beneath the surface. Which actually makes the way I act – the flirty, slutty me that I portray – all the harder to portray on a regular basis, and underlines that it is really “the submissive me” to an extent rather than “the regular me”.
He was on one side of me, and I had a lady on the other side of me. They weren’t directly next to each other, there was a decent gap between them, as budgets are supposed to be confidential to a degree so we have to at least show a separation of some sorts between them. I had to move from one to the other if I was working with them, and I had my work station set up in the middle so I could do bits and pieces of other things while neither needed me.
At first my bag was under the desk by my feet, but as I realised I had a real opportunity here, I moved it to my right hand side so it was between me and him, and shortly after that I fiddled around inside it and got a few things out, leaving it open and ensuring the two selected items were now on top of everything else, and fairly easily visible. Not ridiculously obvious like I was trying to have everyone see them, but if you looked at my bag you’d have to be half blind to miss them. I left it like that for about fifteen minutes, for most of which time I was a couple of feet away going over things with the other lady. When I shifted my chair back over to the middle and started moving back toward him to talk to him, my bag was obviously in the way, I looked down when I got to it, and said very quietly “oh shit”, before very quickly grabbing it, picking it up and zipping it up before moving it back under the desk. Like I said, I am actually quite shy deep down, so even though it was all “staged” and I was just pretending to be embarrassed, it isn’t that hard to play it well, as in reality I am actually a little embarrassed, and will blush just a little bit!
I flirted with him for most of the time he was there though, because I was flitting between the two people, so it ended up being quite easy to flash him quite a bit of leg. While I was turning my body in my chair from one side to the other and crossing and uncrossing my legs as I was crossing my legs the opposite way depending on which of them I was talking to, or leaning into, my skirt – which was only mid-thigh length anyway – was riding up a bit. So I ended up pushing it back down whenever I turned toward him so I didn't flash the lady on my left, but I didn't bother so much when I turned toward her, so I was flashing a lot of thigh to him. Of course, I don't like being too obvious, so I did put my hand down to my thigh a lot and occasionally I'd very lightly tug on my skirt, although not enough to actually move it a whole lot, as if I was trying to cover up, but I just wasn't doing a very good job of it. I also leaned in a little more to her rather than moving my chair too close, which I'm pretty sure was giving him a good flash of an expanse of thigh above my stocking top of my right leg.
So it was a fun afternoon overall, he was very quiet, so didn't say anything about it, but I'm sure he was enjoying the show, he always seemed very nervous when he talked, a bit stuttery and tongue-tied. I think somewhere along the line over the years I've become a bit of a “man-eater”. Lol. I don't know when that happened! ;-p
I hope my completion of your challenge has been satisfactory. It ended up not being quite so bold and outlandish as the scenario's in my head were, which were full-blown multi-person exhibitionism! But I guess I have to do things in somewhat of a safe way to some degree, and I think I fulfilled that, I think he enjoyed the show, definitely got a look in my bag, I played the embarrassed part very well, and I'm sure he's not the type to blab about it, so it's all good.
I sent him an e-mail the following day just saying how good it was to meet him at last and put a face to the name. Part of his response was, quote, “yes, it was good to match the name to a... face. :-)” Maybe I read it wrong, but I thought the placement of the three dots followed by the smiley face really said all that needed to be said in that statement, and it made me smile. What do you think?
…
That's about it for today. A funny follow on from this story however, is that about a month after this event, I was in my regular office when another girl in the office said she'd been stop and searched for the third time the night before when she was leaving the building. It's a random thing where I work, as we have an on-site warehouse so theft could be fairly easy, so they are allowed to perform random searches where they will search your bag and your car before you leave the building. I've never actually been searched, I think I generally leave the office too late as it always seems to be the early starters/leavers who get searched at around the 4pm mark.
During this conversation another lady in the office made a joke - “well at least you didn't have a vibrator in your bag!” I nearly spat out my tea at that, thinking to myself, who knows what they'd find if they ever searched my bag! You just can't make these stories up sometimes, and the conversation was so apt and so ironic after the task I had performed just a matter of weeks earlier.
Stay tuned in the coming weeks, I have my five part New Years Eve “Naughty Diary” entry to post during September, which will start next week. And then some normal service will resume from October as I try to get back into regular blog writing once again.
Take care everybody – feel free to e-mail me on blogtease13@yahoo.co.uk
xx

Valentines Day

Unfortunately this year, I was working on St. Valentines Day. I don’t mean working in the day – it was a Tuesday, so most of us 9 to 5’ers were working during the day – I mean working in the evening. So no romantic meal for two in a fancy over-priced restaurant!

But that doesn’t mean you can’t still have a good time.

It’s really got nothing to do with this story, but I will mention it anyway as it will probably help something along the way make sense, I’m sure... for the majority of the day I was ridiculously horny. We’re not talking about feeling a bit amorous, where you’re just looking forward to getting home that evening to make love to your other half. I’m talking about being what we’ve come to know as cock-slut-crazy horny. Maybe you too have felt this way before, or maybe it’s just me and my nymphomaniac tendencies, but I’m talking about the kind of horniness where everybody you look at, your mind wanders to a thought of them fucking you, where every time you bend over you stand back up with a real sense of disappointment that whilst you were bent over nobody had decided to pull your skirt up around your waist, roughly tear your panties from your body and stuff their nice hard cock deep inside you.

I can sense I’m getting some blank looks right now – it really is just me, isn’t it?! Lol

Digression over...

Well I did bend over a lot at work during the day, legs spread just enough to ensure the very high rear split of my near knee-length black skirt opened up nicely to show my tempting seamed-stocking encased thighs, a flash of bare thigh, and I’m sure if anybody was really looking they may have even caught a glimpse of my scarlet red lacy thong! But the disappointment raged on throughout the day as I was met with a string of refusals to my tantalising invitations to ravish me right there in the bustling office.

And as I made my way from my day job to my night job, still wearing the same outfit with the exception of a change in top – from the tight fitting red blouse I had been wearing to the much more revealing black wrap-around top that showed off the trim of my red spectacular-cleavage-enhancing bra perfectly – and a change in shoes – from red high heels to black high heels, I was hoping my disappointment wouldn’t continue much longer.

I was pretty sure it wouldn’t, I knew there’d be a “stranger” at the bar at some point who I’m sure wouldn’t be able to resist my ample charms.

Because tonight the sexy singleton barmaid blogslut was going to get to flirt with a handsome bachelor of a stranger called J. No, we haven’t gone back in time, we were just playing a little “stranger game” where we’d re-create to some degree our whirlwind courtship of nearly five and a half years ago, where we met in just such a situation. It wasn’t the easiest place to play a stranger game, as other members of staff and even a few of the customers will recognise J, from previous times that he’s visited me at work. But we’d give it a go and see how it works.

It was a different night at work, many of the familiar faces weren’t around, dragged away from their Tuesday night beer by their other halves, and there were many more couples popping in for a drink than usual, some staying for a while, others coming and going within half an hour or so, as they obviously had plans at a more prestige establishment than ours! Lol. But the crowd was always pretty good, and kept the staff busy throughout the night.

It was a good couple of hours into my shift before J walked through the door, I’d been glancing at the door constantly for a good hour, awaiting his arrival. He was lucky enough to be able to get a standing spot at the bar when he arrived, he may not have been so lucky if he’d left it any longer. I greeted him like he wasn’t the man responsible for the diamond on my ring finger... “What can I get you?” I said with a smile and a twinkle in my eye.

He stayed at the bar, slowly drinking his bottled beers, not wanting to drink too fast and have too many... he had plans for later that evening that would require him to not be intoxicated. Lol. And although I didn’t get to spend too much time with him, when I was stood behind the bar and not too busy, I would chat to him and let him do his best to chat me up. I didn’t make it easy for him, although I flirted back, leaning across the bar giving him a good look down my top, laughing at his jokes and following up on his sexual innuendo’s with some equally good sexually charged comments of my own, every so often I would spurn his advances with a witty remark or a playful roll of my eyes to let him know I wasn’t actually available, like I would with anybody else in fact.

The amount of time I was spending at the bar with him though did of course cause the green-eyed monster to come out in a few of my regular customers – those who didn’t know of the connection between J and myself – who thought I wasn’t giving them enough attention while the stranger at the bar was monopolising my time. So, next thing I know, I’m splitting my time at the bar between 4 guys who are all firmly fixed at the bar vying for my attentions. Luckily it wasn’t too consuming of my time as they were standing in two groups of 2, several feet apart from each other at the bar, as two guys who were drinking together stood together and the other guy ended up standing next to J. He was a few feet away at first, but as they both engaged themselves into the conversations I was having with the other, they just ended up next to each other, chatting amongst themselves while I wasn’t with them.

From my point of view, I thought this would ruin a plan that I knew J would have. As in our early courtship days when we had our across-the-bar flirting relationship, we’d do this thing where he’d compliment on my stockings, and then tease me a bit before he convinced me to flash my stocking tops to him to “prove” that they were actually stockings. I knew he’d have planned to do this again, but as he’d now gained company at the bar, I thought it would probably prevent it.

How wrong I was. He went for it anyway. Involving the other guy with it. I had my seamed stockings on, so he made the comment about them, asking if they were stockings, I of course told him they were. He joked around with it, saying he wasn’t sure and I should prove it. The other guy vouched for me, which I found quite funny, him standing there telling my fiance that he could guarantee that I was definitely a stocking wearer! But J was having none of it, and even played the “poor me” card, as he pondered aloud about how unfair it was that the other guy had proof of it while he didn’t. It was an interesting conversation, as it’s rare that I’m privy to this kind of conversation – people discussing how they view me. So I pressed the guy as to how he knew I was “definitely a stocking wearer”, and he gave us some examples of times I’d shown too much. Always interesting to hear – often you never really know if your “accidentally on purpose” flashes have the effect that you wanted them to have. I was actually very excited and exhilarated by the conversation, but to play along I feigned uncomfortable embarrassment, and made a joking generalised statement about how perverted the male sex is.

I did give them both a stocking top flash from behind the bar though. However, only one of them got a heavy make-out and groping session in the store-room when I snuck back there when they were coming back from the toilets. But which one was it? Lol. It’s an easy guess, I’m not THAT slutty, regardless of what you may think! hehe

And all of a sudden the traditional Valentines Day guy with a bucket of single red roses walks into the pub, and all four of my guys bought one and gave them to me. J asked if he could get a thank-you kiss, and I reluctantly yet playfully agreed and went for a kiss on the cheek. He turned into it though and got a full kiss, and took a liberty as he grabbed my ass. I scolded the “stranger” for his forwardness. Of course, all the others had to have a kiss too, and they also touched my ass, but in a much more discreet manner. When I say they got kisses, I’m talking about them lasting no more than a second, except J’s as he caught me off-guard as he pulled me into him, so his lasted 2+ seconds. By this time all four were standing together and chatting at the bar in a group.

It was near closing time, just when I thought that our little stranger game had worked remarkably well and hadn’t been ruined by the fact that some people may know him; very few people who have seen him before were there, staff included; that our charade was ruined. My boss, the pub owner/manager, who had been working out back all evening, came out to help work the bar and take last orders ready for closing. He saw J there, and greeted him, giving away that we were a couple with one simple and innocent comment!

The other three looked a little confused and bemused. I made a hasty exit to go serve others, and left J to clean up this mess! Lol. They all seemed understanding to J’s explanation though, and were all laughing and joking as I returned to them a little red faced from the embarrassment of the situation.

After we closed up shortly after that, and cleaned up, and it was time to get going, I went and stripped out of my top and skirt, and just put my coat on over my underwear. I walked back out and my boss was just asking me a few questions when he kind of looked at me a bit funny and paused for a second before continuing talking. He stopped again shortly after that and asked, very matter of factly, “have you got changed?” It was obvious I wasn’t wearing what I was before, my skirt was knee length, whereas my coat only just covers my stocking tops, so either my skirt had shrunk, or disappeared! Lol. I replied with a slightly cheeky, “well, it depends what you mean by changed. I’m not wearing anything now that I wasn’t wearing before.” I thought my answer was vague, but my naughty smile must have given me away as he seemed to catch on to what I meant. “Lucky fella! What you still doing here then? Get out of here and enjoy your night!” is all he said in reply. I headed to the door saying that I planned to, before, spur of the moment, I turned back and opened my coat for a brief second, giving him a flash of my sexy red Valentine underwear, before quickly heading out the door.

I walked over to my car where J was waiting for me – he’d caught the train to the pub earlier so he could drink and I’d drive him home. I was about 10 or 15 feet away when J signalled that I should take my coat off, which I did, and gave a twirl and threw my coat over my shoulder, and catwalk strutted the rest of the way to my car. I then had to find my keys in my bag, freezing in the near midnight February winds. I should think these things through, shouldn’t I – my advice: get your keys out first! Which is when I heard some wolf-whistles and some rowdy cheers, as I noticed the three other of my bar-flirting partners standing on the street not a million miles away either waiting for taxi’s or chatting before their walk home. They couldn’t see anything clearly, but they saw enough!

J just chuckled and gave a wave. I gave a quick wave too before jumping into my car. When we were in, J jokingly suggested, “maybe we should offer them a lift”. I knew he wasn’t serious, but my answer consisted of two words, the first beginning with an F and the second one was Off! Lol. I mean, my car isn’t big enough for 3 passengers! Haha. And there was only one guy I wanted that night.

I drove the hell out of there after that, I had to drive by the guys, so I gave them a beep and a wave as I did, as they tried to peer in the windows. In their eyes, I think I just confirmed my status as the best barmaid in the world! Hehe

Less than 5 minutes later we were pulled over on a quiet country road on our way home and I was bent over the hood of my car, getting the animal-lust filled ravishing I’d been dying for all day. Finally!

I get great tips!

This is another one of those topics that some of you may already know about, and others won’t.

I talk about my day-job – without going into excessive detail – quite a bit in my blog. But I don’t talk about my second job quite so much. But I do have a second job, one I do more for love than for money, although the little extra bit of cash does come in handy to support my ten years of accumulated credit card debt and my shopping addiction. ;-p

I work in a pub / bar two evenings a week, and every other Sunday. It’s not much, I generally work 4 hours on my evening shifts and 5-6 hours on my Sunday shift, so it’s only 8-14 hours per week on top of my 38 hour p/w day job. And it’s practically minimum wage, so I don’t earn much from it. Like I said, it’s more about love than money. I know it sounds strange to “love” a job as a barmaid/waitress, but it really fits in with my personality well. While the office job lets the intelligent numbers-geek side of me shine, the bar job lets my fun, bubbly flirty personality have its moment in the sun. I like meeting people, and an office job doesn’t give too much opportunity for that when you stare at the same 4 walls and the same dozen faces all day every day.

I especially love the shifts I do. From a financial point of view, most people want the busy nights, because firstly the rate of pay is slightly higher for Friday’s and Saturday’s, which I don’t work unless I have to, plus the tips can be higher as you’ll generally serve 3-4+ times more drinks on a Friday night, compared to a Tuesday night for example. I disagree with the tips theory overall though, as the Tuesday night crowd that I get won’t be as big, but they’re more likely to tip better as they generally aren’t the early 20-somethings out to get as much drink as possible for the few pounds in their pockets, it’s more 30-50+ aged more mature type people grabbing a bite to eat and a few glasses of wine in mid-week. Some of the other girls call Tuesday night “Dirty Old Man” night, because of the leary 40’s/50’s crowd who spend all evening hitting on you, as they get a bit over excited, ’escaping the old ball and chain at home for a few hours’ as they put it. But they’re harmless. The fact that nobody really like’s working that night is one of the reason’s why I got it when I started working there as they needed somebody to do that shift, and it was perfect for me as I just wanted a couple of quieter mid-week nights. So it’s more than fine by me to have to do the Tuesday, it’s my favourite night to work, and I’m more than happy to handle a few “dirty old men”! lol.

Like I said though, I don’t agree that you necessarily get more tips on the busier Friday and Saturday shifts... we generally pool our tips and they get divided up across everybody who worked that day. Anything you get given as a tip goes into the jar. And anybody who pays by card and chooses to add a tip at that point, that will get added on by management when they work it out too. But anyway, the average that each person takes home on Tuesday for example is about £10 if that, it’s been known to be as low as £2 or £3 per person, whereas you’re probably looking at £25 quite easily for the busier nights. So yes, the theory is right, but I think the lowest amount of tips that I’ve personally put in the jar on any of my shifts is £25, so I think that if we took our own tips home rather than pooling and splitting evenly, I’d come out better on my “crappy” shifts than many would on the busy shifts. The most tips I can remember putting in was £143 for a four and a half hour shift or so, and I only got given £25 tips for that night after it was divided up. The jar got pooled between 6 people that day, as it’s split between everybody on all shifts for that day, that means the tips total was about £150. If you like your numbers like I do, you’ll note that my share would have been 95% of that total, compared to the 16% of it I took home. I think everybody did very well out of me that night! I felt a bit aggrieved I must admit, as if everyone wanted to make good tips that night they should have barely worn the outfit that I did! Lol. Nobody knows who puts what in the jar though, unless you add up your own tips as you go along (like I usually do!).

That big tips day was back in February 2011, the day after Valentine’s Day, and the place was almost dead with only about 12-15 people max in at any point that I was there. But I was wearing an outfit that combined being very short with also being exceptionally low cut as my C-cup breasts spilled out of my top, and it mostly came from one group of 5 cheeky guys around their late 40’s who were there on their semi-regular Tuesday boys night out. I see them there a lot on Tuesday’s and we’ve built a friendly flirty relationship, I let them get away with lewd comments that many of the girls wouldn’t, and I’m often a bit of a tease around them, bending over unnecessarily a few too many times with a seductive smile and a twinkle in my eye. And I think they all appreciate having a fully grown-up woman waiting on them rather than the barely out of nappies 18 or 19 year old Uni students that is what a large chunk of the staff is made up of. LOL.

And forgetting the sultry slutiness, I do my standard job very well too. As long as it’s not too busy I’ll always go the extra mile and offer to bring their drinks to their table rather than have them collect them themselves, which is the standard process, but I do that for everybody, they’re not that special! And they usually tip well, compared to their actual bill, for the great friendly service I give them.

And on this particular evening, they were practically half the customers in the bar, and were pretty much there for my entire 4 hour shift, so I spent quite a bit of time chatting with them just to pass the time. There were two of us working the bar, and the five guys came in shortly after I got there, and headed straight for me and we greeted each other with big smiles and the usual small talk for a few minutes, it had been a good 5 or 6 weeks since I’d seen them last as I’d missed a few Tuesday shifts in the previous few weeks for various reasons and they came in on Tuesday every few weeks, so our paths just hadn’t crossed for a while. I took their order and I told them to go sit down and I’d bring them over. They went over to one of the bigger tables on the empty side of the bar – there were only 2 or 3 other tables occupied, but they were on the other side of the bar.

After that we just kind of waited for more people to arrive and for things to get busier, as it normally does as we get closer to 9pm, but with the exception of a few people coming in, which was offset by a few people leaving during the same time period, it never got busy. By this time, as I served people at the bar, to be nice I’d already been telling them that while things were so quiet, if they needed anything to just get my attention and I’d come over. Some took me up on the offer, others must have felt a bit weird waving across the room, so still walked up to the bar regardless.

Of course, my bunch of guys took me up on the offer, and were having a bit of fun with it. “Waitress” they’d jokingly call out to me when I was in earshot. They’d also use my name sometimes too, which they knew because they were regulars, plus it’s on my name-tag! And they started calling me over regularly for silly reasons, such as refilling their glasses – they were ordering bottles of wine rather than glasses, so one of them would have an empty glass while there was a half bottle of wine sat on their table; usually people just top themselves up! They wouldn’t even wait until they all had empty glasses, they started calling me over individually whenever any one of them had an empty glass. I was almost in a constant walk to or from their table for a while there! They were enjoying me sexily sauntering to and from them, with my heels clicking sexily against the floor. But I was quite thankful for the entertainment as well, as it was so quiet I was getting immensely bored, and I was in a flirty mood, so several times I stopped and chatted to them for a few minutes, even pulling up a chair to join them briefly a few times. Joining them for some innuendo interspersed chat and they were telling me about a wine-tasting event they were going to soon and were showing me how to taste wine properly, by sniffing it and swilling it around your mouth, which of course led to some “spits or swallows” jokes as I swirled wine around my mouth. I swallowed, of course! ;-p

As the night wore on, I was bringing their change back to them after they’d paid for another bottle of wine, and while I was leaning over the table giving them an eyeful of cleavage while I poured wine into a few of their glasses, one of them picked up a £10 note from his change and just slipped it right into my bra, which was slightly on display as they gazed down my top. I didn’t really know what to say, but they all laughed, and I joined in. I went back to the bar with that £10 note sticking out of my bra and put it in the tip jar.

After that it became a bit of an ongoing joke, they were all tipping me £5 and £10 notes, providing I let them stick the money directly into my bra! A few times they copped a little feel as they did so, and I’m sure a couple of times they pulled my bra away from my breast to create some room for their money and potentially got a glimpse of nipple for their troubles. At one point they handed me a £20 note and asked if I could change it for four £5’s. I went to the bar, got them four £5’s and came back, only for them to distribute them amongst themselves so they could each slip a £5 note into my bra.

Not the usual way to act in work really, but it was quiet, nobody else could really see what was going on because of where they were sat, slightly away from everybody else, and I was bored and in a bit of a flirty and naughty mood, so it was all a bit of harmless fun! :-)

And it all earned me £120 to add onto the £23 of tips I got from everybody else that night for being a friendly hostess providing exceptional service, which is how I earned my £143 of tips that night. And no, nobody got to put any coins into my bra! lol

By deduction, everybody else combined in that whole day made a grand total of £7, giving the tip jar £150 to be distributed between the 6 staff members that worked any of the shifts that Tuesday. I walked away with £25 as did all the others, and the other staff members that day earned a massive £24 extra each purely because I let 5 guys feel up my boobs!

Isn’t life unfair! Lol

Some people just don’t appreciate sexy!

I don’t get a massive amount of feedback from readers of this blog, but I do get some. And I’m always happy to get more, so please feel free to e-mail me at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk, and remember to add me to your safe-list if you want a reply and not have it caught in your spam filter. I get caught in my own spam filter, for goodness sake, so I can’t imagine how bad it is for others. Perhaps I should have thought about my e-mail address more when I set it up!

But anyway, most of the feedback I get is stockings related. People love to hear the escapades of a real-life stockings wearer. And I do try to make this blog appeal to a wider audience – I fully admit that this is, and I want it to be, a D/s blog, but by no means does that make it a bdsm blog that only people into whips and chains can enjoy. That’s not only not what this blog is about, it’s not what my life is about. It’s about the adventures of a slutty submissive girl, and stockings are a big part of that, so I’m happy to pick up a bit of the crossover audience of the stocking admirer.

I may have mentioned it before, or maybe I haven’t, but generally I have to tone the sluttiness of my clothing down for my day job, working in a respectable finance office. Over the past 12-18 months I’d been getting pulled aside occasionally and asked to dress with a little more... well, just dress a little more!

I noticed a pattern to my “tellings off”, they’d generally happen if:-

a) we had fairly important visitors to the office, of either the internal or external variety. A couple of the nicer guys in the office – the confessed admirers of my version of office-wear – usually give me advance warning if they know of any of these occasions now to avoid seeing me get dragged into an office and being told to dress more appropriately. As all in all, they like it when I dress inappropriately!

b) if I dress too sluttily for an extended period of time. Dressing reasonably for 3-4 days a week, and saving the real slutiness as a treat for the other day or two of that week seems to be fine. Showing a bit too much for 7 or 8 days in a row gets me into trouble.

And c) Seamed stockings. This one sounds a bit strange, as why would seamed stockings be any sluttier than any other kind of stockings, or any other item of clothing for that matter? But I think the powers that be think they add a bit of unnecessary distraction. Probably true - non seamed stockings probably have a bit of "is she or isn't she" factor to them, whereas with seams it's almost certainly a "yes she is". I don't know why anybody who's known me for more than a few weeks has to ask the question though, it's always a "yes she is" lol. But anyway, I’ve found that if I wear them several times in a short period of time, in particular with skirts that are a few inches+ above the knee in length, I tend to get the "inapproriately dressed" reprimand, so I’ve had to learn to wear them more sporadically.

I don't think the bosses know the lengths I go to for them though. Most of the time I get my clothing chosen for me by J, and I have to partake in various forfeits if I want to make changes to his selection. The things I have to do to convince J to let me wear a skirt that's an inch or two longer, to switch those seamed stockings for a non-seamed pair, to upgrade from an outfit consisting of just two items up to an outfit consisting of three items, or even to let me put a bra on underneath an almost sheer blouse... they are things a respectable lady shouldn't have to do!! Lol. Luckily, I’m no respectable lady! To be fair, J is reasonable and takes things into consideration, but he also likes to have fun with it, I guess we both like to have fun with it really.

Of course, my day job isn’t my only job, so I think the scales of sluttiness get evened out in the grander scheme of things. As the sluttiness of my attire at my office job has dipped a bit, the sluttiness of my attire for my evening/weekend bar job has seemingly increased, as I guess it has even for my weekend college day attire, or just my general non-work clothing.

You win some, you lose some!

The Naughty 2010 Diaries - December pt 3 (of 3)

Christmas Time = Party Time!

And at last, if all that frivolous partying wasn’t enough, I still had one third and final Christmas Party to attend; my work’s Christmas Party on Friday 17th December (2010).

I must admit, I was still a little worse for wear after drinking a bit too much two days earlier at and after J’s office party. J was as well, and for once he was actually coming to my office Christmas Party. I’m pretty sure it was his first time in 5 years.

Because I was feeling a bit rough, and wasn’t planning on partying too hard, I opted for a classy sexy look rather than my often slutty sexy look. My long black strapless dress came down to past my knees – yes, blogslut in below knee dress shocker!

And we had a nice relaxed night out overall, I still partied hard and danced and flirted with everybody, but I didn’t get as crazy drunk as I had in previous years at the Office Christmas Party – much to the chagrin of a few of the guys I’m sure, who look forward to these nights out to get a little amorous with the office totty, and I’m normally the totty that lets their hands roam more than they should.

And just to roll the Christmas Party blog around full circle, as we’re now a year on from these stories, and therefore another round of parties has come and gone. Well, there’s not much to tell about the 2011 party scene. My office Christmas Party was turned into a no-go zone based on the fact that usually each department does their own thing. But this year, it was decided by the powers that be that in an act of solidarity between all the Finance Departments within our business, we’d do one big Finance Christmas bash. I’m fine with the premise, but having a Christmas Party half way across the country for a lot of us, as it was arranged for where the big office with two thirds of the Finance staff are based, and saying partners can’t come and hotel accommodation isn’t provided really takes the edge off. Very few people from other offices went, and it turned into a bit of a shambles as they basically had their usual office Christmas party, just with a bigger budget as they got the budget of the other departments on top of their own, while we got nothing.

As for J’s Christmas party this year, he was ill that week, so we only made a brief appearance for the meal before sneaking off early.

In fact, the girls night out with the teenage bar-maids from my second job at the bar was my best Christmas night out this year. There’s nothing like going out with some scantily clad 18 year old’s to make you feel old at 29. But I held my own and although the crowd was a bit young and raucous for me, we had a good time and danced the night away.

Stay tuned for some more tales from the life of your favourite blogslut in coming weeks and months. And in the meantime, please feel free to e-mail me your comments, questions or feedback at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk.

The Naughty 2010 Diaries - December pt 2 (of 3) *ADULT CONTENT*

Christmas Time = Party Time!

So I left you at the point after my first of 3 Christmas parties in 2010. I know, that’s a year ago now, it has literally taken me that long to finish writing this blog

S my next Christmas Party was J’s work party on Wednesday 15th (Dec ’10) which was a very low-key affair in comparison, mainly because I wasn’t playing the role of Candy the Masseuse, the hired out slut for the night! Lol.

I wore the customary very short little black dress, along with black seamed stockings, and red lingerie and red high heels. J is quite particular about how I act at work functions of his, smart and sexy, teasing but demure, it’s okay to show a little too much, but I always must come across as classy and elegant, not like a cheap floozy – that’s saved for our private time! Lol

No fooling around with any of his work colleagues either, I’m strictly a one-man woman in front of the watching eyes of his work colleagues. A few of them do try to take a few liberties, as you’d expect at drunken office Christmas parties, and where I’m usually allowed, and encouraged, to not move the hand off my ass, and not to shy away from an approach for a kiss or a sneaky grope of my tits, on this occasion I was under a much stricter instruction to not let anybody get too frisky with me. They could look with their eyes, but not with their hands. So I was moving hands up that strayed too low, turning away from anybody who leant in to get a little overly amorous etc. But I was allowed to “accidentally” flash a little too much if I made sure it was subtle and that it always appeared to be accidental. J likes to observe what happens and what people’s reactions are.

So beyond that, the highlight of the actual evening was the fact that J wanted a live replay of what happened at the previous Christmas Party, so he got the under table blow-job that Dave got just 5 nights earlier. I must admit, the tables were a little tighter to fit under at this venue, but I managed it with only a slight concussion from hitting my head on the table. J made me hold his cum inside my mouth for a good 5 minutes afterwards though, as we moved and sat at another table to chat to a couple of people. Well, he chatted, I smiled a closed-mouth smile and nodded along before I was asked a direct question. I managed to get out a muffled “erm” and looked at J almost pleadingly, who mercifully squeezed my thigh, which was the signal that I could swallow. I swallowed in one big gulp, covering it by lifting my glass of wine to my mouth as I did so, and taking a sip just afterwards. And then I calmly answered the question.

When the evening was over, we left the party venue and as we got outside into the ice cold weather conditions, we were contemplating whether to walk the 10 minute walk to the hotel we were booked in to stay at, or whether to go to the taxi rank on the next street over. We decided to go for the lazy option and jump in a taxi so we began to walk around the corner. I was very tipsy to say the least and in that condition I’m very easily persuadable into doing pretty much anything. And J convinced me it was a great idea to give him a little outdoor strip tease in a little car park we passed on our walk. It was an outdoor car park but had the entrance barrier down and locked as it obviously was only used and manned during the weekday daytime, probably for city centre office workers to park, but it only had a 2ft metal bollard/barrier around it, so you could cut through it if you were walking to get off the main street and onto the back street on the other side. I actually cut through it for just that reason every time I go to the college I attend several weekends of the year as my college is down one of those back streets!

It was out of our way but we started cutting through anyway. It was quiet with only moderate lighting and as we got further away from the busier main street and further into the privacy of the partial darkness and closer to the small porta-cabin type of building that would provide a bit of cover – I was a few feet in front of J at this point and he was already carrying my small handbag – I took my jacket off and threw it back toward him. Next I hiked my dress up around my waist, and teased him with a wiggle of my ass in just my scarlet red thong, framed by the taut, high, stocking tops of my black seamed stockings. I slid my thong down my legs as we continued to walk, slipping them off and twirling them around my finger before I threw them back at J. We continued walking the last 10-15 metres of the car park, me still with my dress hiked up around my waist, before we reached some decent cover by the car park’s porta-cabin building and a couple of light weight trees right by a practically deserted back street that housed a row of office buildings. I pulled my dress back down with a sexy wiggle as I then got J to unzip it all the way down and I sexily slid it off and stepped out of it and handed it to J, who now was building up a collection of my clothes draped over his arm as I stood there minus my jacket, dress, and panties. Only my bra to lose now as I unhooked it and let it slide down my arms as I used my one arm to cover my boobs from his view. I held my red bra in the air with one hand as I kept my chest covered with the other hand, before moving that arm as well and threw that one in the air. I was stepped forward to J, draped my bra over his shoulder, stepped back, did a slow and sexy twirl and then stood there with my hands seductively on my hips awaiting him to tell me what he wanted me to do now.

It was then I realised just how friggin’ cold it was, as the ice cold air hit my naked body, standing there in nothing but black seamed stockings, black suspender belt, and red 5” heels.

It felt like I was stood there for minutes, but it was actually 3 or 4 seconds max, before J pulled me to him and gave me a lingering kiss as he draped my jacket back around me. I got my jacket back on – it was a bit shorter than my dress was so it just about covered my ass but left significant stocking top and a touch of bare thigh on display. I didn’t do it up, I just held it shut. J gave me back the rest of my clothes and I immediately went to hide them under my coat, but he stopped me and made me carry them all in one hand as I held my jacket shut with the other hand. He made sure my bright red bra and thong were on the outside and “on display” as we walked back around to the taxi rank. We passed a few people, I don’t know if they were paying attention to exactly what they saw, or what thoughts were going through their minds as they saw a clearly underdressed girl, stockings showing as she was wrapped in a jacket, and clearly holding a little black dress and red bra and panties in her hand.

I felt so slutty and naughty and so turned on.

We managed to jump in a taxi, the driver must have got a decent eye-ful as I lost grip on my jacket as I got in... okay, you know me too well, I let go of my jacket for a moment! ;-p. And we arrived at our hotel moments later and I felt like I was doing a slutty walk of shame up to our room as a few fleeting staff members and other guests heading to their rooms gave us glances that turned into full-blown stares!

The third and final post of this December 2010 Christmas Parties story will be posted very shortly...

The Naughty 2010 Diaries - December part 1 (of 3) *ADULT CONTENT*

Christmas Time = Party Time!

December 2010 started with me fully in study mode as I prepared for my early December exams, but soon they were over, and I really was ready to let my hair down and just party the festive season away.

And boy did I have lots of opportunities to party – not 1, not 2, but 3 work Christmas Parties that I’d been roped into attending. One being my works Christmas do, one being J’s work shindig, and the first of the three being a bit of a strange one, as a friend of ours, or more a friend of J’s and just a passing acquaintance of mine, needed a date for his work function, and J had told him that I was free and could go along with him if he wanted me to.

If I went through these three parties in the order of potential reader interest, I’d probably end up working backwards, but I suppose I should go through them all in chronological order to keep this in “Diary” format, so I will start with Friday 10th December, and the party I attended with “the friend”. I’ll give him the code name of “Dave” for the purposes of this blog. I don’t like using real-names on here! And I will go back to the days and weeks beforehand, to give you the lead-up to this situation.

So it all started (or at least I think this was the start of it) a week or so beforehand at a get together we had at another friends house, I was walking from the small group of people I’d been chatting to across to the makeshift bar area to refill my glass with some more wine, and as I walked past J, who was sat talking to Dave, who is a friend of his that he’s known for years, but is no more than a passing acquaintance to me to be honest, J asked me what I was doing Friday 10th. “Erm, I’m free as far as I know...” I replied. “Great! Dave was just saying he’s looking for a plus one for his office Christmas party as he can’t find anyone to go with” J said. “I was just telling him you love a good office party and would gladly go with him if you were free that night!”. I was a bit taken aback, I wasn’t expecting to be set-up on a date, and was just a bit surprised. I smiled politely, and just said “oh... sure, I guess it will be okay, I’ll just have to check my diary when we get back home.” That was really code to say we’ll talk about it later!

We did talk about it later, and he talked me into it. It apparently wasn’t going to be a big deal, Dave had gone through a big divorce earlier in the year, and as well as not wanting to go alone as everyone was bringing a partner, he was just hoping to have an attractive girl on his arm for his work party, who nobody there would know, so he could put on a brave front and not have people feeling sorry for him after his divorce, and just in case word got back to his wife via mutual friends and acquaintances.

So I agreed to it, it’s a good chance to be a bit flirty and a bit of a show-off with people I didn’t know and would never see again, and of course, a free meal and free drinks is always welcome.

But in the week running up to the event, I became increasingly more confused as to what was actually expected of me, and nobody was filling me in. Was I going as a “friend”, or was a supposed to be acting the actual “date/girlfriend” role. I suspected that regardless, I’d probably come off looking more like a paid escort! :-\ lol

It wasn’t until late on the Friday afternoon that J finally told me what was actually going on, although I must admit I’d begun to suspect it anyway. I was to be the full-blown slut for the night, and J asked me if I’d agree to abide by his one and only command for the next day, which was to follow all of Dave’s instructions from that point forwards until further notice – basically a temporary transfer of sub ownership. I asked J if he was sure he wanted me to do this, because I didn’t really know Dave and wasn’t totally comfortable with it, but I’d do anything for J, so if he asked me to do it, I’d trust his judgement and do it for him. To which he said that he loved showing off what a fantastic little slut he had to others, and he’d known Dave for years so he ensured me that I’d be safe and that I’d enjoy the experience. So I agreed, and the wheels truly were set in motion.

So for one night only, I was basically Dave’s property, and a mixture of excitement, and trepidation filled my body.

My outfit was out and ready for me when I got home early from work, which had been joint decided and chosen by J and Dave. And there wasn’t much to it. A red corset, a black and red thong and suspender belt combination, black seamed stockings, and a pair of black 5 1/2 inch stiletto heels with a small platform. That was the underwear sorted, but the only other thing left out for me to wear was a short flowing black skirt. ‘Where is the top?’, I pondered to myself, knowing full well that the corset was my top!

I got ready, I have to admit I did look pretty good in the full outfit, with my hair done up, and fairly heavy make-up on. And soon after that, Dave arrived to pick me up, and we drove to the pretty posh hotel that the party was taking place at. Casting your mind back to my September 2010 Naughty Diaries blog entry, when I was first ‘given away’ as a party date, which pretty much failed at the first hurdle... well this one was quite the opposite. It was quite clear from the off that, although he was a little uncomfortable and perhaps a little nervous of the experience, he was very much okay with the situation we found ourselves in and had every intention to follow it through. He was much more comfortable than me, as I was very nervous, a little out of my comfort zone, and wished I’d had some time to get to know Dave a little better before this point.

The drive to the hotel was eventful, he was very complimentary to me, quite touchy-feely but in a low-key fashion, and he was very respectful but exuding a bit of an “I’m in charge” demeanour, which I like in my men. And we also took the opportunity to get to know each other better – trying to squeeze several dates worth of knowledge about each other into 45 minutes so it didn’t appear like we were on our first date at the party, as we were supposed to be a couple who’d been dating for several weeks at least. I was shocked at how quickly I began to like him, he was funny and witty and started looking sexier to me by the minute – he had a bit of a George Clooney sexiness to him. We were getting along great, I was completely at ease and really starting to look forward to the evening ahead as my nervousness subsided.

After we arrived, and the valet parking attendant was treated to an unobstructed view of my underwear (you try getting out of a sports car in a short flowy skirt and retaining your modesty!! Lol) we walked into the venue hand-in-hand, smiling, and sharing flirty glances at each other. Pulling off being a couple was seemingly going to be fairly easy.

It struck me quite early that, even at the age of 28, I felt really young compared to the crowd of people, who mainly seemed to be 40+, with a few seemingly in their 30’s and the sporadic twenty-something here and there. It’s rare for me to feel young when out for the evening nowadays, the number of occasions I’ve been in a bar, club or music venue in the past year or so and generally feeling old as I’m surrounded by 18-21 year olds has become too many to count! But the age-range seemed to even out a bit more as the crowds got bigger and grew from around 50 to what I was told was about 120 people including partners. Obviously the younger ones were coming in fashionably late!

As we made our way into the pre-dinner reception area, we walked toward a couple of other guys who were obviously work-friends of Dave. Big friendly hand-shake greetings commenced as I stood back awaiting my introduction. “Honey, this is Mike, he’s head of our Finance Department” he said, and as I smiled in my nerdily excited way as being in Finance myself I love a good chat about finance, I reached out my hand but I was caught off guard by an unexpected big hug instead as Mike exclaimed “the famous Candy, we’ve heard a lot about you!” I must have stared daggers at a chuckling Dave over Mike’s shoulder at that. I mean, creating the name “Candy” for me! It got better, as the greetings continued and the chat with Mike and the other man, Will, continued, it turned out that he’d not only given me a fake name, he’d given me a fake job as well. I wasn’t just Candy, no, I was Candy the Masseuse!! Lol

Apparently that was J’s idea! Typical!

But, although I was a little annoyed, I hid being flustered as best as I could, and embraced the challenge... let’s be honest, how often do you get the chance to go to a party where nobody knows you and portray the character of slutty Candy the masseuse! Lol. Okay, it was a bit much, I corrected the guys, I’m not a masseuse, I’m a massage therapist! :-)

I thought I played my role well in these early stages, playing along well and thinking on my stiletto-heeled feet as my character evolved from stories that Dave had told about me previously. Like how we met at the gym/spa I work at when I gave him a massage etc. I flirted, and joked, and laughed, and chatted, and answered questions about my career as a massage therapist the best I could considering I know nothing at all about anything massage related – the closest I get to being a masseuse is wearing my slutty pink “miss massage” costume! A lot of the time I had to revert to flirty innuendo as answers, such as lines like “oh, you wouldn’t believe the things I can do with these hands” accompanied by a flirty smile and a naughty twinkle in my eyes.

As the evening wore on, I think we became even more thoroughly convincing as a couple. We appeared very doting of each other and were always including each other in group conversations. And Dave was quick to point out the people we were there to impress – like his bosses, important colleagues, or the gents with young trophy wives who we were generally competing with for the title of hottest older guy/younger girl couple – and those whose tongues we should leave wagging, such as friends or acquaintances of his ex-wife.

But that was just the outward facade of the evening. Beneath the table or on the dance floor his hands were all over me, and when we slipped into a quieter table toward the back later on in the evening, he told me to slip my panties off right there at the table and we got pretty hot and heavy, locked in deep kisses whilst practically fucking each other into a frenzy under the table with our hands. It was at this point he told me to get under the table to suck him off. I did just that, slipping down when I thought nobody was looking, and hidden beneath the long tablecloth I took his thick, throbbing cock deep into my mouth and gave him the best blow-job I could muster in such a confined space. It took him less than 5 minutes to cum, I’d practically brought him to the edge of orgasm with my hand before anyway, so he was already just about ready to blow before I went under the table. As he came, I held the head of his cock at my lips to take all his cum in my mouth; partly out of necessity to avoid a mess, but mostly as that was what he had told me to do – catch it all, don’t spill a drop, but not to swallow.

As I finished, I asked if the coast was clear... well, I kind of mumbled it through my cum-filled mouth! And he said it was, so I gingerly came out from under the table and re-took my seat, looking at him patiently awaiting my next instruction about what I should do with my ample mouthful. He asked me to open wide to show him, and hold some on my tongue and stick that out, all of which I did before he asked me a couple of questions that I mumbled and gargled very brief answers to before I was allowed to swallow. I gulped it down with an enthusiastic smile before thanking him, which is something a good slut should always do.

As the night was winding down, I had a quick dance with a few of Dave’s friends/colleagues as they insisted they get a dance before the night was over, and they generally groped my ass a little and danced me toward the mistletoe for a little kiss. They all were just little friendly kisses though, except for one, as he let it be known that he’d seen me come out from under Dave’s table with a mouthful of cum earlier, and tried to convince me to give him a similar treatment to pay for his silence. To be honest, I was Dave’s date for the night, but had no long-term connection to him, and the blow job was his idea, so I wasn’t that bothered about buying his silence quite frankly. He was easily diffused anyway, and accepted a proper, long kiss combined with groping my naked ass under my skirt for about 15 seconds.

The night ended shortly after and as we headed to the lift/elevator, I noticed that one of Dave’s colleague’s was about 10 paces behind us with his wife, who he had pointed out earlier in the night as a fairly good friend of his ex-wife. So I pointed this out to Dave and whispered my plan in his ear. As we got in the lift I practically jumped him as if we were going to fuck right there and then, while Dave discreetly kept his finger on the “hold doors” button to ensure that the couple just behind us would catch us up and make it to the lift. As they did, we quickly broke our clinch and straightened our clothes a little like guilty teenagers. We continued a bit of kissing as the lifts went up, and I was saying dirty things into Dave’s ear, making sure the others in the lift could just about hear what I was saying.

Quite luckily for this little game, we all got off at the same floor and started walking down the same corridor. Our room was first though, so we stopped and they walked past. As soon as they had passed, I jumped Dave again, pushing him against the door and started pulling his tie off and undoing his shirt as I kissed him furiously, telling him how badly I wanted him. He fumbled with the keycard as the other couple looked back to see us practically stripping and ready to fuck in the hotel corridor. We soon got into the room though, both grinning and giggling a little bit, but at the same time, both very, very horny. There was a lot of truth in our lift and hotel corridor show, we were both very desperate to get ourselves laid!

And it didn’t take long for us to get down to it once we were in the room, I finally got my corset off and felt like I could breathe for the first time all evening. We fucked a few times that night and again in the morning. He was a bit rougher than I was expecting to be honest, but not in a bad way necessarily. A girl loves to just be thoroughly “taken” sometimes, even if I did end up with an almighty bruise on my lower back from where he’d fucked me very hard against the wall, and some minor bruises around my wrists from some slightly “excessive force” use of some handcuffs.

I was sore on several parts of my body the next day. But I also felt pretty damn satisfied as Dave drove me home into the waiting arms of my Master J. I’d been a good slut for him.

Just to complete this story though, I will just say that I did meet up with Dave a few more times, conveniently popping into a couple of work nights out etc, just to keep up the pretence of the relationship for several more weeks until he announced our “break-up”, which let me off the hook in a way that didn’t look bad on him.

The December 2010 Christmas Parties stories will be continued very shortly...

The Journey - Chapter 7... The Stocking Challenge

So where did I leave you in Chapter Six?

Oh yes, I was opening the envelope to see how I’d be getting fucked after my “Stocking Challenge”.

And what did it say.................. Pussy!
(I actually don’t like that term particularly, but that’s what it said!)

Oh yes, it was about to happen at last, my first full sex with Tom. My heart skipped a beat as it jumped for joy, a huge smile broke out on my face as I looked up at Tom. He already knew what it said so it wasn’t a shock to him, he was just watching, waiting for my reaction.

“Are you ready?” he asked. I stood up from my chair and held out my hand to him so I could lead him to my boudoir, and I said a wholehearted “YES”. I really was ready for this, I had waited long enough, and I’d thought about this moment literally hundreds of times. He took my hand and we headed into my bedroom. I guess you could say it was a little bit awkward, and I guess we were both more than a little nervous, which can be expected.

We sat on the edge of my bed and we kissed. Then we started to undress each other, at this point it was very much like a vanilla sexual encounter. But once my dress and bra was off, leaving me in my thong panties and fishnet stockings, he reached for a small bag he’d brought up with him. He’d come prepared, and pulled out some thin ropes. I was nervous, this was going to be my first D/s sex session, but I trusted him, and knew I’d be okay.

He tied my hands together, and then lifted them above my head and tied them to the bed. My Uni dorm-room standard bed wasn’t ideal, but he somehow made it work anyway, tying the rope around the frame as there was no headboard, and leaving enough rope between that knot and the knot that tied my hands together so I was comfortable. A few weeks earlier when he’d been in my bedroom I noticed him having a good look at the head of my bed, it made sense now, a recon mission! Lol.

Once I was tied to the bed, I was his for the taking, but he didn’t just take me, first he put a blindfold on me, and then he teased me, and teased me, and TEASED ME! He used his fingers, he used my vibrator, he squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples. I don’t really know how long it was, but it felt like hours. He kept it slow and easy, just keeping me on the edge of cumming but never quite doing enough to make me cum. It wasn’t just unskilled foreplay, he knew EXACTLY what he was doing, he didn’t want me to cum too early. Occasionally he would stop and move around the room, to get a toy or to get something else, and it was an agonising wait for him to come back to me. I couldn’t see what he was doing, so I intently listened, trying to figure it out, only to be surprised when he returned and slipped an ice-cold dildo into me, or poured cold liquid lubricant onto me, or just gently touched me, kissed me, or pinched or nibbled on my nipples when I wasn’t expecting it.

It finally happened though, after a fair bit of pleading from me to be completely honest. “Please! Please, fuck me! I need you to fuck me! Please!” I said continually under heavy breathing. It’s funny how he managed to get me to beg him to let me suck his cock, and now he got me to beg him to fuck me. The subtle ways of the experienced Dom, I guess! Lol

He put the tip of his cock at my entrance and teased me some more, rubbing it up and down, lubricating his rock-hard pulsating cock with my juices before he thrust into me. It felt so good. I wrapped my legs around him to stop him from getting away and teasing me anymore. I needed this, I wanted this, and at that moment, I didn’t want him to be anywhere else other than inside me.

I was still blindfolded, which heightened all my other senses even more, and he fucked me for what seemed like forever. Sometimes gently, and sometimes hard and rough. My hands were tied but I still had fairly free movement as long as my hands remained at the head of the bed, so he started fucking me whilst I was lying on my back, but we soon switched positions and I was on top. Still blindfolded, still in my stockings and heels, bouncing up and down on his glorious cock, having the time of my life. And we finished with him fucking me from behind until he came deep inside me, pulling my hair as he did so. I think I came about 4 times, it was really my first multiple orgasm experience, I didn’t really know it was possible, but it didn’t really matter to me how many official orgasms I had. I was practically in an orgasmic state since the teasing started at the beginning, the whole experience was just so pleasurable.

He untied my hands and took my blindfold off at the end and I lovingly licked and sucked his cock clean before we nestled in each others arms in a tender moment. “You are a fucking God!” I exclaimed to him. He really was, it was the best sex I’d ever had. I’m not sure it still is from a physical perspective, but with what it meant to me at the time, the combination of physical and emotional aspects combined with it being my first time in a D/s scenario, I can probably still say that with some degree of truth that it still is the best sex I’ve ever had.

I guess you’re all wondering if the stocking challenge continued after this, aren’t you? After all, I still had two pairs left unworn, and two holes left unfucked.

Well it did continue over the next few weeks, as did our sexual encounters, we got together for a bit of nookie at least once or twice a week for the rest of the Uni term, which had about 2-3 months left. Our sexual encounters often entailed me being tied or blindfolded, and we experimented a bit with other things too, but keeping in mind that neither of us actually owned any significant bdsm equipment or toys, I couldn’t afford to really buy any on my minimum wage part-time job, and Tom couldn’t go around spending money freely on me with his family responsibilities. So we generally improvised where we could. We even booked a cheap hotel room a few times to get some extra privacy. Sometimes having sex in secret in a shared flat is pretty difficult. Especially as we were trying to keep our relationship secret to all, due to the circumstances – he was older, and married, as I’ve mentioned in previous chapters. I think we did a pretty good job of keeping it on the down low, I think a few suspicions arose a few times with a few people, but we did our best to avoid each other in public sometimes, and deflect the suspicions and rumours. I’d become a bit of an outrageous flirt to be honest, and nobody really thought the older mature student had much of a chance with the popular, somewhat-attractive 19 y.o. blonde. So the rumours ended up being more a tale of unrequited love from him, and me just being too flirty with him. We were happy to keep the rumours that way though.

But getting back to the stockings challenge. It was set again, and I had a choice of two pairs left to wear. I wore the plain black ones with a very sexy little dress. I must have flashed a bit of stocking top several times that day, which would have been a first for me, but it was amazingly fun and I loved doing it, as I was so sexually buzzed waiting for the unveiling of the envelope later that day. I’d given him dozens of blow jobs, so I wasn’t sure how big a deal that one would be, but the anal one would be a new experience and a new challenge.

Upon unveiling the envelope, it wasn’t meant to be at this stage, as it said “MOUTH”. I was quite nonchalant about it, it wasn’t going to be a big deal, but as it turned out, I was wrong. If you remember at the start of the Stocking Challenge, Tom said that the condition was that he’d get to fuck whatever hole corresponded to the choice of stockings. The wording of that is quite important, and I was about to learn that giving a blow job and getting your mouth fucked really aren’t the same thing.

The rope came out again for this encounter, as I knelt down and he tied my hands together behind my back, and then he tied my ankles together, and finally he tied my wrists to my ankles. I really was stuck in this one position. I was quite happy and chirpy, and really wanting to get down to the business of sucking his cock. We soon did, and I started licking and sucking the best I could with no hands. We’d been working on me being able to take more of his length into my mouth – deep throat training if you will. I was nearly there at this point, able to take about 6 of his 8 inches into my mouth and the opening of my throat. And this is how we started, me taking all I could and then moving away. Slowly moving my head back and forth. “You give great blow-jobs” he stated. “But this isn’t about you giving, so much as receiving. Do you trust me?” He asked. I never once took his cock from my mouth, but I looked up at him, gave a slight nod and a “uh-huh” sound.

He then put his hands on the back of my head, intertwined with my hair, and took control of my movements. He was fairly gentle at first, pretty much doing what I’d already been doing, nice slow, deep movements. But he sped up a little bit soon after, and we soon found out that yes, I could take all of his cock, as he pushed every last millimetre into my mouth and down my throat. At the point where my gag reflex begins to kick in, I’d usually stop and withdraw, but the hands on the back of my head stopped me from pulling back, and he firmly carried on pulling my head toward his waiting crotch. The pace gradually quickened, and I wasn’t particularly happy or comfortable at this point, as I continued to gag, and tears began to stream from my eyes, and I was actually quite upset with him. My sounds of disapproval got lost in the shuffle though, and his tight grip on my head, and my hands and feet being tied prevented me from doing anything about it. He’d soon sped up to a rapid pace and was fucking my throat quite furiously, and finally he came in my mouth. As he released my head, I leaned forward and coughed and choked as I tried to get my breath back, and his cum, mixed with saliva and flem came out of my mouth and onto the floor.

Like I said, I was very upset, I really wasn’t expecting what had just happened, I felt used and like the trust I had given Tom had been broken. He tried to be comforting, but as soon as I was untied, I just grabbed my clothes and was out of the door in a flash, dressing whilst walking.

Tom rang me, messaged me, e-mailed me, and tried to speak to me over the next few days, but I ignored him, giving him an icy glare when I saw him in person. I really was quite furious with him. I cried thinking about what happened, but whilst I cried, I’d get very aroused and would end up fucking myself to orgasm.

After a bit of internet research, I found out a bit more about “face-fucking”, and sent Tom an apologetic e-mail for being such a bitch. I really wasn’t upset anymore, it was more the shock about what happened that made me upset, I didn’t realise that people did what he did to people they cared for. But they do, and the more thought I gave it, the more I realised that it wasn’t so bad, I’ll admit I didn’t enjoy the physical act, but I did enjoy the helpless feeling I had, and how hot Tom thought it was, and how raw and physical the looks of pleasure on his face were as he did it. I kind of realised I wanted to give him that pleasure however he wanted it. I explained this to Tom, he explained how sorry he was for putting me in the situation anyway, and we kissed and made up, and we were back on track.

And the best news of all, next time I sucked his cock, I went all the way down with little problem at all. I even started to learn how to hold his cock in that position, without gagging, and lick his balls at the same time. It’s funny really, I was so proud of myself when I did that for the first time, more proud than I’d been of almost anything else in my life. That really is a ridiculous notion, but it is true.

We did re-enact our face fucking scene a few times after that, without me getting upset! It really takes some getting used to, but after that, it isn’t so bad, I promise! In case anybody out there is thinking of doing it! But it is better if you’re expecting it, rather than being naive like I was and it happening completely by surprise.

In mine and Tom’s penultimate ever sexual encounter we even took it to the next level. He set me the challenge of face fucking myself with his cock. He wouldn’t hold my head, he’d just stand there, and I was to treat myself like a slut and put to one side any need to gag or come up for air, and just go to town. It’s quite surreal really, when there isn’t anybody holding your head, forcing you down, to make yourself do it when every inch of you tells you to pull your head back, it’s a tough task. But it went quite well all things considered.

That’s all for this chapter – chapter 8 will continue with the third installment of this “stocking challenge”, plus the culmination of my relationship with Tom.

Until next time! Xx

PS: I’ve had a large volume of e-mails recently, and am doing my best to reply to all, and then reply to the replies, and so on, so please bare with me if I haven’t replied to you yet, or if my responses have been tardy.

The Journey... Chapter Six – Getting to grips with Submissiveness *ADULT CONTENT

We ended Chapter Five with Tom locking all my panties away. He left soon after he did that, leaving me horny as hell, and pondering many things. Where exactly had this relationship gone? Where was it going? And what would I have to do to earn my underwear back?

Although it had been a long time coming, the new layer of our relationship seemed all too sudden. We’d gone from flirty friends to something all the more serious, something that I didn’t have a clue how to describe back then, but something I can now describe quite clearly... I was his submissive!

The little panty-less challenge lasted for nearly two weeks. It started with me wearing a knee length skirt to Uni the following day, but the day after that wasn’t a Uni day, and Tom had told me to wear something extra short and slutty around the flat, so I could “feel the breeze on my pussy”. I did, and it wasn’t a very productive study day, it made me so constantly horny for the whole day, to the point where I spent a good few hours fucking myself crazy with my favourite vibrator. It was then the weekend, and I thought it would be a couple of days before I’d get to see Tom again, and he’d already asked me to be prepared to give him a detailed account of my day. But he called me on Saturday and we arranged to go for a drink that evening, adding that he thought I should wear something short, cute and sexy, but not too slutty. I did as he asked, putting on a cute red dress that was above the knee, but not too short. We had a few drinks and chatted about various things, it was mostly general chat but would occasionally hone in on the “us factor”, and as I fidgeted a little in my seat, letting my dress ride up a bit, showing some thigh, crossing and uncrossing my legs, he encouraged my actions with lots of smiles and telling me that he loved it when I teased him. It was a friendly hour or two, but very sexually charged.

We walked back to my flat where he’d left his car, and on the walk he quizzed me about what I’d done on Friday. I told him all about it, with embarrassed aplomb, as he delved for more detail with intimate questions. As we arrived back at my flat, he asked me a question “has it made you wet, telling me about how slutty you’ve been?” Still embarrassed by this tone of question and with the use of the word slut, I hung my head slightly, but said yes. He told me to show him, as he opened his car door for me. I got in, as did he, and he asked again. I lifted up my dress to show him how wet I had become, and he told me to touch myself. I did as I was asked, and touched myself until I came, right there in the passenger seat of his car. He watched me intently, not touching me, but still, it was our first proper sexual encounter.

The next Monday in class, I couldn’t help but glancing over at him on the next row across quite a bit, I was worried people would notice, or be able to read my thoughts and catch on to our “game”. And the day ended similar to how the Saturday had ended. Me revealing myself to him in his car, and touching myself until I came to a thundering orgasm.

A couple of more occasions like this and some sexy short skirts only just covering my panty-less ass-ets became a little too much for Tom to take I think. As on what would become the final day of my challenge, our relationship went one step further. Once again in his car, my skirt hiked around my waist as I pleasured myself, for the first time he undid his pants and took out his cock and started to gently stroke it. I was mesmerised by it, it was the first time I’d seen his cock, it was something I’d fantasised about countless times, but now I was seeing it for real, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I finally did break my gaze, and looked up at his face, then back at his cock, then back at his face. I was trying to send him a silent message, and he caught on to it. “Would you like to suck my cock?” he asked. I nodded and started moving my head toward his lap. He stopped me. “Ask nicely.” He said. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but he clarified it for me. “Ask me nicely if you can suck my cock, and I may allow you to.”

“Please may I suck your cock, I really want to suck it!” I replied, and he indicated that I could, so slowly I moved my head down to his lap, licking the head slowly, before licking up and down the shaft. I was so desperate to do a good job, to please him as best as I could, so I gave the best cock-sucking effort I’d ever given. Licking and sucking to my hearts content until he tensed up and I knew he was about to cum. He grabbed the back of my head so I wouldn’t pull away. Little did he know that I had no intention whatsoever of pulling away, I’d waited a long time for this, and I wasted going to waste any of it. I took as much of him into my mouth as I could and he thrusted gently into my mouth as I waited for my prize. He came hard, and I didn’t waste a drop.

As I sat up straight, he looked at me with a smile, he had an almost proud look on his face, and for some reason it made me so happy. “I guess you just earned your underwear back!” he stated and gave me back the key to the chest in my bedroom. And the end of my panty-less challenge had come.

It certainly wasn’t the last blow-job I gave him in the next month or so either. He got plenty. In his car, in my flat, in a dark store-room at Uni, and even behind some trees in the park. It went a bit further, to him playing with my breasts, and pleasuring me with his fingers in my pussy as well.

And the slutty clothing and activity challenges carried on too. He enjoyed improvising with everyday things where we didn’t have the right equipment. One such instance was the use of dental floss instead of nipple clamps/rings etc. He had me tie some dental floss around my nipples, and go braless under a tight top. My nipples would stand out like coat pegs, and he loved it... so did I. One time whilst I had dental floss tied around my nipples and a group of us were having lunch, when we’d finished he asked the group if anybody had any dental floss. He looked around as everyone said no, and then he redirected the question at me and only me. I could feel myself getting embarrassed, I really hope my face didn’t go too bright a shade of red!

Another daring clothing challenge had me wearing a very short flowy black skirt, a tight, revealing white strappy top, black high heels, a red bra and panties set, and a little red cardigan. He’d chosen the whole outfit for me, but part way through the day he sent me a text message asking how many items of clothing I had on. I knew something was up, because he certainly already knew, but I replied with the answer 5 anyway. He responded – “seems like 3 too many to me, I’ll trust you to fix that in the next 30 minutes”. I couldn’t believe he’d just asked me to do that, I’d be practically naked if I removed three items of clothing. But I did it anyway, he knew I would, I knew I would, there was never any question, it was all part of the fun of what we were doing.

So about 10 minutes later I headed off to the bathroom and removed my bra and panties. That’s all I removed at that point, I still wore my cardigan to cover up my upper body, as my white top was so tight and revealing, and the slightest bit see-through under certain lights that it would be pretty obvious to all that there was nothing underneath. I was worried this might look strange as they must have been able to see a bit of my red bra before, whether it be seeing the colour underneath the white material of my top, or seeing a touch of the trim or strap that wasn’t covered by my top. But again, it was all part of the fun. I knew he’d set the time limit of 30 minutes, so I kept an eye on the clock, I wanted to tease him a little. At about 29 minutes and 50 seconds I removed my cardigan. The two guys that were sitting either side of me looked toward me and their eyes bulged slightly at the sight they were seeing... I’m not sure their eyes were the only things bulging either. I glanced across the room and saw a wry smile on Tom’s face too. I tried my best not to smile, I was trying to look calm and nonchalant to everybody, so nothing would seem out of the ordinary, despite the fact that my breasts were pretty much on display, and my short skirt only came to a few inches below my naked ass.

Another “challenge” that you may be interested in hearing about came several weeks later.

Tom gave me a sealed envelope and a wrapped present that Monday, I was very excited, I love getting gifts, and it was the first time he’d given me a proper wrapped present. He told me not to open them until I got home, which intrigued me even more as I wondered if it was perhaps a naughty present. I got home and unwrapped the package – before opening the envelope, as he’d instructed. There were four things in the package, one was a sexy, lacy black suspender (garter) belt. The other three were pairs of stockings – one pair of plain black stockings, one pair of black fishnet stockings, and one pair of black seamed stockings. I had a couple of pairs of stockings and a suspender belt already, all kept for bedroom use, but none of this quality, these ones looked particularly expensive and sexy. And I’d never had or worn a pair of seamed stockings before, these were my first pair.

I then opened the envelope, wondering what it would have inside, and found a short handwritten note, plus three tiny sealed envelopes with the words “fishnets”, “plain” and “seams” written on them. I actually still have that note to this day, so I can tell you what it said word for word:-

Blogslut (it never said that, he actually used my real name! lol)
I’ve enjoyed your exquisite blow jobs lately, and wondering if we should go any further keeps me up at night in more ways than one.
But I’ve decided to leave it up to fate – I have given you 3 pairs of stockings, and coincidentally you have 3 very fuckable holes. I have assigned each pair of stockings to your mouth, your pussy, or that tight little arse of yours, and have written them down and sealed them in the enclosed envelopes.
All you have to do is choose which pair to wear tomorrow morning, and we’ll see how I’ll be fucking you tomorrow afternoon – and no peeking.
Tom (he also didn’t say that, he used his real name! lol)

My heart jumped into my throat at this point. I was a little shocked, a little overwhelmed, and extremely excited. The thought of wearing stockings in public for the first time tomorrow, for him, and not knowing what the results would be, or what tomorrow afternoon would entail.

I almost immediately had to try on all three pairs to see how they felt and looked. I was still fairly shy back then though, and like I said, I’d never worn stockings out in public before, so although I was trying to stay open minded about which pair I’d choose to wear the next day, I knew in my heart of hearts that it definitely wouldn’t be the seamed stockings. I think Tom knew that as well.

The following morning I was getting ready – we didn’t have a Uni class but a group of 5 or 6 of us had agreed to get together at the Uni building to work on a few things for a piece of work we were doing – and I still hadn’t decided which pair of stockings I was going to wear. I had everything else picked out, I was going to wear a sexy black lace bra and thong combo, with the black suspender/garter belt Tom had bought me, with a short button-up little figure hugging dress, and I’d picked out a pair of my sexiest, and highest, heels, they were shiny black patent leather stilettos with 4” heels and an ankle strap.

I finally made my choice, and I went with the fishnets. It was the easy option really, fishnet hosiery were all the rage with girls of my age, so I wouldn’t look out of place in the slightest unless an eagle eyed viewer could tell they were stockings and not tights.

The day went by all too slowly, but finally at about 3pm we were back at my flat. We were there alone, my flatmate wasn’t home, so we sat at the kitchen table.

As I opened the “fishnets” envelope, my heart was pounding and my hand was shaking slightly from both nervousness and excitement. I got the envelope open and it contained a folded piece of paper, just to make me wait for the answer to my question those few seconds longer. I started to unfold the piece of paper, but just as I was about to unveil what was written on it, Tom stopped me by putting his hand over mine. “I don’t want to pressure you to do something you’re not totally comfortable with” he said. “We can stop right here with no hard feelings and I won’t hold it against you. You’ve done remarkably well up to now, and I’m very proud of you regardless.” I was very touched by his words, but I certainly didn’t feel pressured, I felt alive, more alive than I’d ever felt, and I told him just that – “you’re not getting off that lightly!” I joked.

He moved his hand away from mine and I opened up the piece of paper and read it to myself. He wrote it, he already knew what it said so he didn’t need me to narrate it.

You all want to know what it said too, don’t you? Well I’m going to keep you in suspense until next time, just because I’m mean like that. But my next blog will be posted within days, I promise.

Until next time, goodnight! :-)

Black, White, & Diamonds

Just a little blog adapted from a recent e-mail conversation… I’m working on a series of blogs that should keep you all entertained over the next month or two – so keep ‘em peeled! :-)

I’ve been to many “black tie” events in my time, it’s always a lot of fun to incorporate just a bit of sluttiness, and to see how far you can push the envelope without making too much of a scene.

The obvious most daring thing you can do at a black tie event, for a girl anyway, is to go in a colour other than black. It makes you stand out in the crowd, especially if it’s a bright colour - red is the obvious colour to go with.

And I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve worn red to black and white affairs. I’ve also worn purple, blue, and one time even a yellow evening gown, all in the name of being “the centre of attention”.

It’s not always appropriate though, if it’s somebody else’s special occasion, it’s a little harsh to overshadow them too much. But Christmas parties and the like are fine, I hate wearing black to Christmas Parties – how dull and boring is that, it’s a time for bright colours and joviality!

Sometimes it backfires though – for instance I once wore a red dress to a large black and white themed party, only to find I was one of about 20 or so women to do so. I was absolutely devastated, it looks so desperate to everybody else when you have that many women trying to be the centre of attention by wearing garish colours.

If you stick with black though, you have two options – go short, go revealing, and have the smallest piece of black material wrapped around you as possible. Or, if the event isn’t appropriate for that kind of activity and you want to go more traditional and elegant, it poses a million questions about how you can still let that slutty side out, but it also offers a million subtle but fantastic opportunities.

One time at a “black, white and diamonds” affair, I remember I wore a black fitted strapless dress, it was a very pretty and elegant dress with only a tiny bit of cleavage on display, just past the knee in length but with a moderate split in the back. Underneath I didn’t wear any bra or panties, but I did wear a black six strap suspender/garter belt, black seamed fully fashioned stockings (which are a general must wear item for any elegant event), and the outfit was finished off with black 6” heels. A bit of diamond jewellery as well of course, to go with the event theme! Actually, I couldn’t afford diamonds, so I wore sparkly fake gems! lol

I wasn’t with a date, but I was with some friends. This was a few years ago now, I did have a boyfriend – of the vanilla variety – but he wasn’t with me. The actual outfit was chosen by an online “friend” I had at the time, who I was messing around with to get my D/s kicks during the time when I wasn’t getting enough of them in real-life.

Just general little things I did throughout the evening – flirting, trying to show a little extra cleavage or leg on occasion, and several occasions of hiking my dress up to adjust my stocking tops at quiet times when it was feasible to think I was generally alone or out of view, but when really I knew there was somebody who could clearly see me. And of course I got groped a few times out on the dancefloor – and I’m fairly sure those guys would have realised my underwear choices (or lack thereof) for the evening.

My behaviour for the evening was generally instructed of me by my online friend as well, and he also had one final instruction of me – to do something extra slutty and out of character. But he did remind me to stay safe as well.

One of my girl friends that I was with was getting quite friendly with a guy, that guy was there with a friend, so when I was hanging with her at various points during the evening, I ended up chatting with him a little. And as the evening progressed and my friend wanted to leave with the guys, she convinced me to go with them, up to their hotel room. I had no intention of having sex with anybody, so this story isn’t going where you are thinking… but I thought about my “extra slutty, out of character” instruction, and I thought there was some room for manoeuvre here without going too far.

But back at their hotel room, we had another drink and we progressed to playing cards for some reason, don’t know why. Which then progressed into my friend – not one of the guys – making a “strip poker” joke/comment, and before you know it, we all agreed, and I’d pretty much decided that my “out of character” task would be that I would take my dress off and reveal what I was (and wasn’t) wearing beneath it.

Shockingly, and probably thankfully, I wasn’t the first to lose a hand. My friend lost first, taking her top off to show off her bra underneath, then my friends guy lost his top as well before I lost. When I lost I got up slowly, turned around so my back was to everybody, unzipped my dress at the back and slowly lowered it down, glancing over occasionally, watching everybody’s jaws slowly drop as it got lower and lower and they realised how little I had on underneath. Once it was off I used my hands and arms to cover my breasts and pussy and sat back down at the table, still doing all I could to cover up. It was so amazingly exciting and exhilarating.

I probably should take this moment to mention another “accessory” that was part of my outfit, chosen by my online friend. A set of “Love Balls” inserted inside me. So not only was I incredibly horny already from having them in all night, I had to take extra care covering myself up to make sure they weren’t noticed, and the horniness of the whole situation didn’t do anything to help me in any way. A horny girl in a horny situation trying not to do anything too naughty is a very difficult situation indeed.

Anyway, just one more hand of cards later, and we decided to call it a night. It was getting late already, and the game was already starting to lose some focus with my quick loss of all my clothes. So we all put whatever clothes we’d lost back on, and the one guy walked me back to mine and my friends hotel room, while my friend and her guy got their chance to say goodnight in a little more privacy. So we walked down the hall, down in the lift to our floor, and onto our room, just sharing idle chit-chat. When we got to my door I think he obviously wanted a little more than I was going to give him. I let him down as gently as possible, we shared a kiss and I went inside and he went on his way. Hopefully I’d given him a fantasy situation to think about when he got back to his room! Lol

About 15 minutes later my friend arrived back to our hotel room – she’d had a “quicky” with the guy she was with before leaving, and was a little disappointed I hadn’t kept the other guy “occupied” longer to give her a little (or a lot) more time.

My friend and her guy actually dated for a few months after this – I never saw either of the guys again though, which was a bonus really as that is what I’d really hoped for!! My sultry strip in front of strangers I only saw once. A slutty girl fantasy come true!

And that was about it for that particular black tie event. And I think I passed all of my tasks and instructions from my online friend and he was very happy and excited to read my very detailed report of the evening’s events.

Sorry for the briefness and randomness of this blog – I do have an exciting series of blogs planned and in progress looking at my descent into the D/s lifestyle. I really hope you’ll enjoy that series, it’s looking like it will be split out over about 5+ blogs and probably over a two month time-frame. I’ll hopefully post other blogs between them as well though, to keep things spiced up!

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