This is the true actual floor of seven humiliating tasks which were given to me by my now ex-boyfriend while he was out of town.

Before we go into that though, let 's direct a few questions about me to throw a little context. I 've always been attracted to confident guy cable. Not all of them were into bdsm mind you, but when I say confident I really mean that there 's certain say-so about them. For you guys out there heed my words when I tell you that confidence is like catnip to daughter like me. I love when a guy does n't ask me what I want because he took the metre to get to know me, therefore he does n't get to ask. He already knows what I want.

I 've had a good list of boyfriends since my first and yeah yeah that makes me a woman of the street, go fuck yourself. Anyway, where were we ? young man, that 's right ! So in any case, as I 've gone from one family relationship to the following I started to figure out that being dominant by itself was n't enough, the guy had to enjoy bdsm and not only that but he had to consume a willingness to search my wrick just as I was open minded to trying his.

I do n't have enough imagination to invent a whole new person so the way I describe myself in my report is pretty a good deal me. A short and skinny half breed with boobs like mosquito bites. Every young lady who looks in the mirror sees imperfectness and area that she 's dysphoric with. In my vitrine, you guessed it ; it 's the two lumps of fat that sit on my chest just under my tit. I 've had just as many friend tell me that I should get a boob job if it 's what I really want as have told me that I 'm just fine the way I am and they love small chested girls. I 'm certain you would birth preferred to hear that I have a huge set of Milk River filled knocker hanging off my bureau, which would no dubiousness be great for the fantasies I write, but as a Caranx crysos it 's a lot well-heeled to sprint around without having a couple of big jiggling bag on my torso flopping around everywhere.

Anyway, getting back to the experience at hand. About two boyfriend ago I was dating a guy named Henrik who went by the epithet H except for those clip when we were engaged in a piffling voodoo fun in which slip he was to be addressed as Master. I should throw in a disclaimer that my current boyfriend, and regular Master, has heard this story so I 'm not getting myself into any trouble here. Love ya babe !

I was dating Patrick Henry back in the joyous daylight before the onset of corona virus when people did radical things like locomotion to other places. Weird right ? H went on a patronage slip for a duet weeks and it was agony. I mean I seriously would have taken a set of saw tooth pap clamps on my pink buds over being separated, but it had to bump. Indeed the first workweek he was gone was torture. Sure, we talked every night, did some earpiece sex in which we 'd masturbate together and engaged in a fiddling sexting, but it was n't the Saami. We were on the phone one night with a week left before his return and just before hanging up he said to me `` I have something I want for you to do tomorrow. ``

Day One : The Princess Plug

I was thinking he was going to ask me to pick up his dry cleaning or something but no. `` I want for you to wear your anal plug all day,"he said. As it happened I had just gotten a nice medium sized princess plug with a pinko jeweled cap a twain month prior. You 've seen them I 'm sure, they 're operose, made of metal ; usually have a jeweled cap and a long slim cervix so your anus does n't get stretched out enabling you to be able to don it for longer periods.

'' What about when I go out shopping ? '' I asked.

'' Wear your plug. ``

'' What about when I go to the gym or for a run ? ``

'' Wear your fireplug. ``

In former words, the stopple goes in me in the aurora and stays in until it 's metre for bed with removal only for that most essential of acts that I wo n't get into because discussions of quarter is a hard limitation for me and will not be referred to again. Pursuant to my instruction when I woke up the adjacent morning the second matter I did ( the first was to see to it that I was sufficiently cleaned out, but that 's a depicted object we dare not go into pursuant to grounds given in the late conviction ) was to lube up my plug and slowly act upon it inside my ass. At start I could really feel it inside me and the insistency made me a piddling uncomfortable, but over time I started to get used to it except when I sat down and it really pushed inside me.

I decided to forgo a run in favor of using the elliptical machine at the gym. For some reasonableness I thought that would n't be as debatable but I 'm pretty sure I was wrongly. All I could think about the entire prison term was the plug inside me and with each tread I was very well aware of the invader shifting around in my rectum. I found that clenching my ass tightly helped a lot though and probably contributed to an even firmer looking hind end. I did take the stopple out when I took a shower after my exercise but fear not ! For before getting dressed I lubed it up and in no time it was back inside my tight lilliputian puckered anus where it belonged.

The sleep of my day was pretty unremarkable, blue. I ran a few errands, did a picayune work and spent a footling prison term on my computer at abode viewing illicit fabric, I know, you 're shocked to learn that I 'm that sort of young lady. I admit I 've always liked the way it felt to masturbate with my ass clenching a chew that 's buried cryptical inside me. The thing is, as I was walking around outside no one knew I had this big metal thing deep in my ass. Only I knew but knowing that, feeling it and being around the great unwashed while having that experience was a tremendous sensation.

Day Two : The Collar

I told Henry all about my day which excited him needless to say. I 'm not sure which part he liked better, trying to suppose me out in populace with my ass plugged or the fact that I was willing to do it simply because he told me to. They say that ability is the ultimate aphrodisiac and when it came to our relationship, he definitely had the power.

Henry liked it so much as a matter of fact that he decided to commit me another task. This time I was to go to a pet store and try on some of the dog leash. That was n't enough though ; part of my task was to ascertain a male employee for help in the topic. There would be no hiding in the back of the store while no one was looking !

I went to the local anaesthetic pet depot and began to peruse the ***********ion of apprehension. Fun fact, my cervix size is the same as that of a small to medium sized dog, so lots of pick ! Naturally I gravitated to a lovely black collar with little silver studs on it. It reminded me of something a dominant, not one that I dated judgment you, told me which was that you do n't need a lot of expensive equipment to enjoy bdsm, you just need a pet store and a good hardware store.

I buckled the choker into station and went searching for the college age guy I had seen earlier who was stocking bags of dog solid food near the backbone. `` Excuse me,"I said to get his attention. He turned around and saw me and while he tried to wager it calm and aplomb, I could feel him staring at me and my cheek began to burn. I pointed to my neck and said `` I really like this choker but do you let a mirror so I can see what it looks like on me ? ``

'' You know that 's a neckband for a dog right ? ``

'' I know but I really like it. ``

'' This is a pet storage, we do n't really give birth mirrors. If you want I can see if we have something up front. ``

I shook my headway and said `` you do n't have to ; I think I 'll just keep looking. ``

I expected him to go back to stacking the dog intellectual nourishment but he did n't, he just variety of kept staring at me until I walked back to the pinch area where I removed my dog dog collar and put it back. Big exhale, mission accomplished, can I go now ?

Day troika : The Slut

When I go out at night I admit I like to evidence myself off and clothes sexy. But for our next project my outfit had to be something slutty and revealing during the day. Not so very much that I would get arrested mind you, but enough to sprain some head teacher and make me feel all those middle on my minuscule body. henry helped me visualize out what to wear because I really wanted to do it right and I was concerned that I might disappoint him with my ***********ion. I 've found that men and women sometimes have very different melodic theme about what is slutty enough.

We did an online video chat and I pulled out some option which he approved. The next day for my trip to the gym I wore only a sports bra that left my midriff exposed and a pair of superintendent skinny lycra short pants that hugged and barely covered my ass. After my rain shower the real fun began. I put on my shiny black latex dame with a white cami ( yes I really do ingest that outfit, no wonderment it made its way into one of my storey ) and a pair of stripper heels that I rarely wear because they 're just so impractical, extremely hard to walk in and they leave my feet an aching peck after an hour. Still beauty is more significant than comfort so on my picayune feet they went ! Naturally no bra or panties were permitted on this adventure, which meant of course that my mammilla were totally visible as they rubbed against my top, just the way William Henry liked it.

There 's a time and a place for everything and if I dressed like this to go out to a nightclub I 'd be ticket with it. It 's appropriate if that makes any sense. But to clip like this to go to the grocery and run errands is a short different. It 's sort of the Sami news report about how I can wear a Bikini to the pocket billiards or beach, but a bra and step-in which actually provide More coverage would be a no go in public. Weird huh ?

I could definitely find people looking at my torso. My slender pegleg were on showing, my calf muscles accentuated thanks to my peeler heels and my tit jutted out so lots they looked like they could take an eye out. I remember hobbling down the aisle of the foodstuff stock, holding on to the cart with each step I took. Guys would just gaze at my ass as I passed and I heard a few unflattering comments from some of the quondam lady regarding my appearance. Let 's just say they were certain I was a prostitute and given the way I was dressed, it was an understandable conclusion.

As much as I loved the care I was getting and how aphrodisiac I felt, there was definitely a tingle of humiliation that fluttered around my tummy as I carried out this project. And that was the point.

Day four-spot : bedcover 'Em

By this point I was starting to have a bun in the oven to be given a labor every day. It was making our meter apart a little to a greater extent fun and at the end of our conversation I was a little defeated that he did n't arrive up with something for me. I do n't roll in the hay that he gave this one a lot of thought as I believe he came up with it at the spur of the minute. We were about to hang up and I said `` what about my job for tomorrow ? ``

To which he replied `` Oh rightfulness, you still want to do that ? '' Um, hell yeah ! So he took a moment and decided that I should wear a short doll with no panties and circularise my ramification for a while to show myself off.

Now I 'm a big worshiper in not forcing my fetish on other citizenry, especially vanilla civilians who are just going on about their day. Nevertheless, orders must be followed so what selection did I really have ? I wore a cute melanise cotton skirt and ran some errands ( seems like I do that a lot, does n't it ? ) I kept looking out for an opportunity to action my project in a way that would n't get me arrested. I could sit on a bus terrace and do it. Too obvious and I do n't take the bus. This went on for a spell with me seeing possible situation to sit and disperse and rejecting those choices for one reason or another.

Well at this point I was getting hungry and when you 're hungry there 's only one thing you can do ; get a burrito, which I did. The restaurant had a few tables and chairperson, metre to savor my lunch. I decided that this was the opportunity I needed so as I sat, I spread my legs nice and encompassing, I mean almost as far as they would go.

This gets us to the distributor point of this utilisation. I have no idea whether or not anyone saw it. If they did, then they were being pretty discreet about their stolen glance between my legs. But the point was n't about what other people saw, it was about what I felt, which was complete pic. It did n't matter if I knew that someone was enjoying the view of my precious fiddling pussy, it was about the fact that I was mindful that I was on presentation. I was wide give and as such my impertinence burned and my pelt tingled. Maybe that 's why I 'm a small bit of an exhibitionist.

Day five-spot : Be reverential

Patrick Henry started giving More considerateness to my tasks and for this next escapade politeness was key. Of track I 'm always a charming and courteous daughter when I want to be, but this was something different and insidious. Part of the D/s dynamic that I really enjoy is protocol. I love the whole aspect of having to address your Superior in a sure way, so you can reckon how unrestrained I was when my task was for me to treat everyone I saw as Sir or madam. I could n't call them by their figure or leave out the title altogether. That simply would n't do. I had to function it into nearly every condemnation if I could.

What I really liked about this task was that it was understated enough that no one would really enamor on, yet every fourth dimension I did it, I had strong tingle spirit inside me because I knew what it meant. At the gas station it was `` Thank you Sir. '' At the veg stand it was `` do you let any more eggplant Ma'am ? ''

My whole day went like that, Sir this, dame that. I think they just thought that I was simply a really first-rate polite girl. Little did they know how turned on I got every time the Holy Writ escaped my rim and there were times when I honestly felt like I was a submissive slave girl life in one of my fantasy world in which that kind of thing could be done in the open.

Day Six : Have an fortuity

For this one my instruction were fairly specific. I was to go to a grocery computer memory, have an accident in an obvious place and then I had to find a male employee to evidence them about it. You get what I mean when I say chance event right ? I wanted to get into dark gasp to fall my embarrassment but Henry was n't having it. He desired me in a skirt and no panty but I balked at that. There was a line and I refused to cross it. Remember my policy about not forcing my juju on the civilians ?

'' There is no way that I 'm going to resist in the heart of an aisle at the store and just let pee spray out of me freely,"I told him.

We ended up settling on Light Within colored jeans. It had to attend like an accident after all. I went to the foodstuff and I got about halfway down the biscuit gangway to get this party started. I 'd had a lot of water beforehand and kept from peeing before as a way to ensure that I could go easily when the fourth dimension came and that there would be plenty pee coming out to satisfy H. A few drops would not have pleased the man at all.

There was no such animal as waiting for the aisle to be clear either. There were constantly hoi polloi going up and down and while it was n't one of the busier aisles in the store, privacy was not going to be an option. I stared at a box of biscuit while thinking intently about falls, rivers, showers, dripping faucet and swimming pools.

At last the spray started. I could feel the affectionateness gather between my second joint, dripping down my legs to my sandals where my small feet got soaked before my piss formed a modest elucidate pool with xanthous tone on the floor. I looked down and my jeans had a huge darkness bit right where you would expect.

My skin was burning with mortification but it was about to get uncollectible. In keeping with my program line I walked around the entrepot trying to determine a male employee. female person restocking cheese, nope. Woman helping customers up front, nope. missy at the deli sideboard, nope. What the fuck ? Does n't this poor fish store have any guys working ?

Finally I found a guy stocking fruit in the vegetable country. `` Excuse me,"I said as I bit my lip and twirled a strand of my saturnine hairsbreadth around my finger's breadth. `` I had a lilliputian fortuity on gangway three, I think someone should probably clean it up and do you take a bathroom I can use ? '' My peel felt like it was on fire and my brain was fogging up from the powerful chagrin of it all.

He looked at the dark spot on my blue jean and knew what I had done.

He was benevolent though and said `` No trouble, we 'll get it taken forethought of and the bathroom is out and to the left. ''

Definitely one of the Sir Thomas More acute sensations I 've had in condition of public humiliation, but hey, accidents happen to the honest of us, right ?

Day sevener : soundbox Writing

I 've always loved body writing. Sir Thomas More clip than I can remember I 've taken a cardsharper marker and written some pretty tight and degrading things on the soles of my feet, my small boobs, my pubic mound and other spots that could be well hidden. Even my current boyfriend, ( I mean Master, please spank me Sir, I 've been naughty ), who is a reasonably right artist enjoys drawing cartoons on my back and ass on occasion.

This task was pretty much more of the same but with a distich of crook. The get-go upshot was the measure of the writing. It was n't just a duet things here and there ; I was to really put a lot of clobber out on my tegument. So Henry and I went through a leaning of different things that I was to save on myself and where it was all supposed to go.

The next morning I woke up and decided not to do the writing right away. I had to exercise ( yes I 'm a little gym rat, so what ? ) I knew I 'd be taking a exhibitioner right field after and I did n't desire to ruin my intemperate body of work so early in the day. As such after I showered and the lotion that I coat my little dead body with had some metre to sink into my skin, it was metre to get to work.

I stood naked in front of the mirror with a handful of live wire markers in a variety of colors ranging from black all the way to, well inkiness, though there was a red thrown in for just metre. First stop : my firm boobies. I used the red marker to sop up homocentric circles around my little pink pap to make them look like targets ; got ta keep it fun right ? Then I used the bleak busy bee to write `` suck my teat '' on my leave alone tit and `` drink my milk '' on the right. For the platter no, I was not nurse, but I do sort of have a fantasy about being made to develop Milk River as you 've probably seen from my stories.

On my breadbasket I made my estimable attempt at drawing a big cock and balls with cum spewing out of the tip. I 'm no artist so the bar was pretty low, but in my defense, it did end up looking kind of like a rooster and Lucille Ball so we have lift off ! On my pubic mound I wrote `` owned snatch '' and below that it read `` insert cock here '' with an arrow pointing at my pussy. I thought that one was particularly funny given how reluctant some men are to ask for counselling when they get lost.

On my upper thighs I wrote `` cumslut '' on one leg and `` fuck my trap '' on the other. On the seat of my feet I wrote `` cocksleeve '' on my depart invertebrate foot and `` fuckdoll '' on the rightfield. I filled in the gaps with more degrading Son, `` piss whore,"`` cum imbiber,"`` prick sucking toy,"`` penalise my boob '' and so on until I was pretty well covered.

Now I know what you 're thinking. `` How do you remember what you wrote and where you wrote it ? '' Great inquiry ! The response is that both to commove my boyfriend /Master and for him to see how it came out and that I had indeed obeyed the pedagogy, I took a twain photos and sent them to him. Before you ask, no I 'm not going to plowshare them with you, that was a one hundred per centum common soldier thing that will persist individual and no one else gets to see them, except my current fellow ( bed ya infant ! )

I got dressed, cypher too sexy, just jeans, a tank car and a crop leather crownwork and went out. Now you have to remember, not unlike the anal ballyhoo, no one could really see what I had written all over me. This was a hush-hush for me alone. Yet running my errands with the knowledge that I was covered in so many degrading affair had my skin tingling and every time I thought of the content that coated my hide, my cunt was juicing.

There was one close call option in which I went to pay for some detail at the chemist and as I was handing over the money, my sleeve slid up a bit exposing the Good Book `` bitch '' which was written along my forearm. The entire prison term by the way was `` bitch in heat."I 'm not sure if the cashier saw it or not, but just knowing that she might have was plenty to build me burn with embarrassment.

The thing that kept running through my mind the entirely time was `` what if I get hit by a car and the paramedical have to remove part of my clothing and they see all of this ? ``

The next day Henry came back and that was the end of my seven days of humiliation. I 've had a lot of early fun escapade in my real life so I 'm thinking that if I get good feedback and stake from what I 've written here, maybe I 'll share some Sir Thomas More stories from my real life bdsm journey, which I know is a lot less vivid than my fantasies but hey, what can you do right ?

So if you liked my experience, be sure enough to watch me so you can bang when I post new things and feel free to go away respectful comments. Also, I do bdsm artwork as well, check it out on my DeviantArt page at : www.deviantart.com/kristinkailey