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					    Aug 28 Thursday

     Like most things in life that don't go as planned, it seemed
like a good idea at the time. I was feeling old and worn out,
longing for some excitement, thinking that I was over the top and
headed down hill even though 40 was a long way off. Men go through
a mid-life crisis at times like this. Women just get depressed and
wonder how far away menopause is.

     I decided to use the spa gift certificate that Frank bought
me for Christmas. I needed a pick-me-up and a massage and manicure
seemed to fit the bill. I was early for my appointment and
occupied my time reading the magazines in the waiting room.
Articles like "Ten sure ways to light his fire" and "Guaranteed
ways to improve your sex life" are the stock in trade of those
glossy wastes of paper, yet there I was reading them anyway.

     Frank had sprung for the whole package, including a full hot
wax job. I think that part was more for him than me. Since I
doubted that I could relax during a massage with the thought of an
approaching bikini waxing appointment on my mind, I decided to get
the painful stuff out of the way first. Halfway through the leg
waxing I decided to forgo the bikini waxing. I'm a real wimp when
it comes to pain, but the gal working on my legs said "It's your
choice, but if my guy buys me something sexy to wear, my gift to
him is to wear it. If he treated me a full spa package I would
treat him to the benefits of the wax job." I asked her if it
really made much difference and she said "It's great being smooth.
Sex is definitely better. I wax myself all the time and my guy
just loves it!" I screwed up my courage and told her to do it all.
If guys knew how much it hurts, they would thank us more often and
in more substantial ways. Maybe guys should have to get a wax job
before getting married. Then they would understand things better.

     The masseuse was a guy. I had expected a woman and was a bit
taken aback. Sure, the guy was a professional and probably gay
from the look of him, but I just don't like surprises when I'm
wearing nothing but a towel and disposable slippers. He was very
good. Better than any woman masseuse I have experienced. His big
hands felt good on my back. There were no sexual advances on his
part, but those magazine articles I read in the lobby had my mind
in the gutter. I was not only relaxed but seriously aroused by the
time he finished.

     Several hours and a buffet lunch later I was done. It was
back to the humdrum of the daily grind. While lugging a 20 pound
bag of dog food up to the register at Petco, I noticed the fancy
leashes and collars. One leash was a black colored chain with
black web loops and a black clip. It reminded me of something in
one of the articles I read that morning. On an impulse, I bought
it. By the time I got to the car, it seemed silly and way too
kinky for me. Still, the more I thought about it, the more I
thought it would be a good way to spice up my sex life. It was
number 5 on the magazine's list. I stopped at Home Depot and found
just what I needed, a pair of tiny black and brass padlocks, keyed
alike.

     Once I got home I felt possessed by the idea. I dug through
my closet and found my highest black heels. They are strappy
sandals with 5" heels and an ankle strap. The ankle strap was
broken on the left one, so I hadn't worn them in years. I slipped
the ankle straps out of the loops in the back and went down to
Frank's workshop in the basement. I cut the clip end off the leash
with bolt cutters and put the chain through the loop where the
ankle strap was. I put one on and measured a length of leash chain
around my ankle, snipping it off with the bolt cutters. I snapped
the padlock through the ends of the chain and examined my
handiwork. It just didn't look right with the lock on the inside,
outside or over my instep. I snipped off a few more links and put
the lock through one end of the chain, the ankle strap loop and
through the other end of the chain. That looked right. The lock
hung inconspicuously over my heel, just noticeable enough to look
a bit kinky, like something one might find in one of those so-
called "Adult" boutiques. I counted the links and cut a chain for
the other shoe and tried it on. They were perfect for what I had
planned, kinky without being too outrageous.

     I went back up to the bedroom to pick out an outfit to go
with the shoes. Nothing seemed right. Then I realized that Frank
would be deciding what I would be wearing and all I needed was to
figure out what to wear when I sprang my plan on him. I settled on
a pair of denim shorts, my sexiest push-up bra, a T-shirt and a
red cotton thong.

     I unlocked the shoes and put them in a gym bag. Then I taped
each of the 2 keys to a piece of cardboard, put them in envelopes,
addressed them to myself and put them in the gym bag with the
shoes.

    Aug 29 Friday Day One

     Frank didn't notice the bikini waxing because I wore a big
baggy tee shirt to bed. I didn't sleep very well that night. I was
torn between chickening out and taking the leap. On one hand, I
trust Frank completely. On the other hand, I really don't know
what lurks deep in the part of a guy's mind where the fantasies
reside.

     The shorts and tee shirt got noticed only because of the bra.
I don't think Frank suspected anything was up until I asked him to
drive me to the corner mail drop box. At that point I decided to
go through with it. I still had time to chicken out, but hoped I
wouldn't. I mailed one of the envelopes and had Frank drive me to
another mailbox where I mailed the other.

     At that point he really wanted to know what I was up to. I
took a deep breath and got the gym bag out of the back seat. I
took off my flip-flops and put on the heels. When I fastened the
locks, I really had his attention. He nearly hit the car in front
of us. He pulled over and said "OK. Spill it. What are you up to?"

     I gave him my carefully rehearsed speech "I just mailed the
keys to these padlocks to myself. I'm going to be your sex slave
for a day or so. I'll do anything you order me to do until the key
for the lock comes in the mail. I'm up for anything you want me to
do. What is your first wish?" He just stared at me in shock. Then
he asked me what the second envelope was for. I told him that was
my backup in case the Post Office lost the first one. I wasn't
going to be his sex slave forever. Not knowing how long it would
be makes it sexier. He smiled and said "It might be longer than
your think. Those boxes get picked up around 10 and it's already
10:20. They won't pick up again till Tuesday, so you won't get the
key back till Wednesday at the earliest, Thursday or Friday is
more likely." It was my turn to look shocked.

     He thought about it for a few seconds and said "Our first
stop is the drug store. We are getting some hair removal stuff and
you are about to loose your bush." I replied "Too late. I lost it
yesterday." He said "I mean all of it." I said "So do I." He said
"Let me see." I said "Here in the car?" He said "You did say you
would do anything I want. Now put the shorts in the gym bag." I
hesitated and he said "NOW! Or they go out the window." I slipped
them off. Somehow this wasn't what I had in mind when I was
planning this. He added "panties too and while you are at it, put
the shirt and bra in the bag too." Then smiled and got moving.
Once I was buck naked in the car in broad daylight he told me put
the shorts and bra back on and to leave the T-shirt and panties in
the bag. I couldn't believe that I had completely forgotten that
the Post Office would be closed over Labor Day weekend. I was
going to get three times whatever it was that I had set myself up
for. The magazine was right. It is sexier and more arousing when
you don't know just when it will be over. I just hoped that he
didn't have much walking planned. I wasn't looking forward to 5
days in heels, 24 hours a day.

     Our first stop was the mall. He had me put the bra in the bag
and wear the T-shirt. By lunchtime I had a bag full of shorter
skirts than I ever thought I would try on, much less wear, some
really skimpy tops and the smallest thong style bathing suit I had
ever seen. He sent me to the ladies room to put on the shortest of
the skirts and a thin top that showed my nipple bumps, and then we
had lunch. The vinyl of the bench seat was cold against my ass,
very little of which was on the fabric of the skirt. I asked him
if he was planning on getting me underwear. He thought it was a
good idea, but it turned out to be a tease. After picking out some
sheer g-string panties, he wouldn't let me put them on. Then we
stopped at a shop that sold body piercing jewelry and he looked
over the whole case. I was starting to worry, but it was another
tease. As much as it worried me, I found it arousing at the same
time. The thought that he might have me get my nipples pierced was
a rush. I realized that I didn't even know if he liked that sort
of thing or not. I really had no idea what I was in for. This
whole thing was supposed to be to get him aroused and I'm sure he
was, but I was facing far too many unknowns. For some reason he
put the thong swimsuit in his pocket when we got in the car.

     Our next stop was a topless bar. The sign said topless, but
the dancers wore tiny tops and thongs. There I sat, bare ass on
cold vinyl, wondering if I would soon be up on stage striping down
to that tiny thong bikini in front of the dozen or so guys that
sat there leering at the dancer on stage. We stayed there, for
over 2 hours, just watching the dancers strip. I wondered if he
was working up the nerve to order me up on stage or giving me time
to see what I was expected to do when I got up there. When he went
over to talk to the manager, I figured it would be my turn up
there on stage, with those horny guys leering at me as I slowly
slipped my blouse over my head, unzipped the skirt and let it drop
to the stage and dance nearly naked for the enjoyment of the small
but creepy looking audience. Any pretense of modesty was about to
be lost, discarded like a strippers costume on the stage floor. It
was thrilling, like walking around in a minefield, having no idea
what would happen or when. He handed me the thong bikini and told
me to go to the ladies room and put it on under my clothes. It was
unlike any ladies room I was ever in. It doubled as the dancers
changing room with lockers and a makeup table. I took a pee, put
the thong on, took a deep breath and went back out. Frank took my
hand, kissed me on the cheek and walked me around to the gap in
the bar between the stage and the dancers changing room. I was
ready. I was all pumped up emotionally. My heart was pumping. I
could do it. I had enough drinks in me to do it. I would do it. I
wanted to do it. I was going to do it! I was going to do it with a
smile on my face and almost nothing on my body! Frank led me right
past the gap and out the door. The bright sun was harsh after the
dim lights of the bar. I actually felt let down, somehow deprived
of something. It was frustrating, like almost reaching an orgasm
and being interrupted at the last second. Frank sure knew how to
tease me.

     Frank had me strip naked in the car and put on one of the
more conservative skirts and a blouse with pretty faux pearl
buttons. I was covered, but still felt naked without a bra or
underwear. Our next stop was my favorite restaurant, Outback
steakhouse. We had to wait for nearly an hour before we were
seated. We sat on the bench on the porch outside the door like we
usually did when we had no reservations. This time, I had to sit
with and my feet flat on the floor and my knees at least 6 inches
apart. I don't think anybody walking past the porch saw up my
skirt, but who knows. Part way through dinner frank had me undo
the top button on the blouse, then another and another till I was
unbuttoned to just below my breasts. I watched my posture and how
I moved but it kept my attention on my body. The thought that I
might accidentally show something was not what was worrying me. It
was what Frank would order me to show that was on my mind. Desert
came and Frank had me undo 2 more buttons. I just knew it would be
a tease, just like the topless bar. I was actually relaxing
because I knew he would let me keep the bottom button fastened. It
wouldn't open wide when I walked. If I moved carefully all I would
show was cleavage on the way out. Then Frank motioned for me to
undo the last one. This time it looked like I was going to be
embarrassed. I was ready to go topless in the bar, but this was
different. This was a public place. Still, I promised Frank that I
would do whatever he told me for as long as it took for the keys
to arrive. It was only twenty feet to the door. Topless is
socially unacceptable but legal in this state. I wasn't going to
get arrested and a couple dozen people will have something to talk
about. When Frank told me to fasten the button at nipple height, I
was both relived and disappointed. Momentarily, I was tempted to
just strip naked right there in the parking lot and get it over
with. But I didn't. I just got in the car.

     Only twenty four hours ago I would never have considered
going topless outside my own house and now I actually felt an urge
to strut around naked in a parking lot. Of course I wouldn't do
it. I'm chicken. If Frank told me to, I would. That's what I
promised. I was confused to say the least. It was a relief when
Frank had me give him a blow job right there in the parking lot.
At least I knew what was expected of me.

     Back home, after another blow job, I fell asleep snuggled up
close to Frank.

    August 30 Saturday Day two

     While I made breakfast, naked except for the heels, Frank
took a pair of my jeans down the basement and came back with a
smile on his face. I heard the washing machine running and
wondered what he was up to. I showered after breakfast, glad that
I picked high heeled sandals instead of pumps for my little
adventure. At least they don't fill up with water.

     We had a barbecue to go to, so I thought the day would be
reasonably normal. I would be pretty much off the hook for the
day. Frank had other ideas. When I got out of the shower, I found
the bikini top and what was left of my jeans on the bed. Frank had
cut them off and ran them through the washer and dryer so they
would fuzz at the cut edge. I tried them on and found that a
handful of my ass hung out on both sides. The bikini top straddled
the line between barely big enough and not quite big enough. It
would do the job, if I didn't sneeze. I went downstairs and Frank
confirmed what I had expected. I was going to a barbecue where all
our friends will see much more of me than usual. I asked him if I
had any options. He said "Sure. You can wear the thong bottoms
instead of the shorts or you could go topless." I didn't comment,
but I found myself thinking about both choices.

     Other than a few comments like the one from Jean, "Stacy,
that's a new look for you, isn't it." To which I responded "Frank
dressed me today." nobody seemed to care. By the end of the day, I
was very comfortable with my ass hanging out. Frank seemed
satisfied with sneaking off for a quick blowjob after lunch and
another at a rest stop on the way home. It looked like he ran out
of ideas. I was running out of patience. I needed sex and was
getting nothing.


    August 31 Sunday Day three

     While in the shower, the heel of my right shoe just came off.
Frank said it looked like the glue wasn’t waterproof. He took out
his pocketknife and cut both loops where the chain was locked to
the shoes and took off my shoes. I had a wicked blister developing
on my left foot and he offered to let me off the hook temporarily.
All I had to do was promise him two things. I would spend one and
a half days, sometime in the future, wearing the chains for every
day that the keys didn’t arrive. Also I couldn’t wear jeans,
slacks, shorts, underwear, pantyhose or pubic hair till I
fulfilled my promise. The blister was in a tender spot and if it
opened, it would hurt like hell, so I agreed to his terms with the
stipulation that we go straight to bed for sex including some 69.
Besides, I was having fun and as long as it could be one day at a
time, it was no big deal.

    September 1 Monday Day four

     We had a barbecue in our back yard, just the two of us. This
is the second day off the hook but without the keys. Now I owe him
3 days. It feels strange not to have anything covering my crotch.
Not unpleasant, just strange, but less strange than it did on
Friday.

    September 2 Tuesday Day five

     The mailman came and went. No key today. Frank went to work.
I went grocery shopping. The blister never opened and is almost
healed, so I wore heels to the store. Somehow, flats just didn’t
seem right with a skirt, at least not while I felt so sexy with my
new bald spot exposed to the air. Went to Victoria’s Secret after
lunch for some stockings and a garter belt. At least it will look
like I’m wearing pantyhose.

    September 3 Wednesday Day six

     Frank went to work, I went window shopping, still no key. Now
I owe frank 6 days. The sales guy at Lowe’s was quick to help.
Heels and a skirt definitely get a guy’s attention these days when
skirts are less common than a generation ago and 5-inch pumps are
rarely seen outside a nightclub. I narrowed down the choices and
brought home a Pella brochure for Frank. He has final say on the
new living room window because he’s installing it. My feet felt
better walking with stockings on. It wasn’t as hard to slip them
on under the ankle chains as I thought it would be. I’m pretty
comfortable with nothing under my shirt now. Still, it is a
distraction and I’m thinking of sex much more than I used to.

    September 4 Thursday Day seven

     One key came this morning. Frank won’t know that it’s here
because I dropped it behind the bookcase before he got home from
work. I still don’t know why I did it. I just did.
    September 5 Friday Day eight

     The second key was supposed to get here today. It shouldn’t
be more than a day behind the first, even with delays from the
Labor Day holiday. Maybe it’s lost. I’m tempted to get a coat
hanger and fish the first key out from behind the bookcase. Now I
owe him 9 days.

    September 6 Saturday Day nine

     There is no mail delivery today. If I produce the key, frank
will suspect that I stashed it. I don’t want him to know what’s
going through my mind. Actually, I’m not sure what’s going on in
my mind. I should have fished it out yesterday while he was at
work. Frank took me to a movie. Since I’m off the hook, I picked
out my clothes. I didn’t dress as sexy as Frank would have dressed
me, but I did go with a shorter skirt than I normally would have.
He slid his hand up between my legs and rubbed my “bald spot”
which is just now showing a hint of hair. I let him do it and
rested my hand over his dick, occasionally stroking it through the
denim of his jeans. I felt like a teenager for an hour.

    September 7 Sunday Day ten

     There is No mail delivery on Sundays. I owe him 12 days now.
I should never have even dropped the key behind the bookcase. We
went to Outback for dinner. I wore a low cut blouse, push-up bra,
pleated skirt along with stockings and a garter belt. Frank rarely
takes me out, but for the last week he’s been really attentive and
romantic.

    September 8 Monday day eleven

     The key came today. Just in case it didn’t, I retrieved the
one behind the bookcase right after Frank left for work. Frank
noticed the ankle chains were gone as soon as he got home. I owe
him 13 and a half days. He rounded it down to an even dozen. I
wonder if he is as into this as I am? My imagination has been
running wild and he let me off the hook for a day and a half. Does
he really want to continue having me play the submissive sex toy?
It started as a one time impulse for me and has now captured my
imagination. Frank, on the other hand, really got into it at first
yet now seems indifferent. Maybe he just ran out of ideas and will
take sometime to think up something really good.

    October 14 Tuesday
     Updating this Blog on the same day I do things is really
annoying. Starting with this update, I’m going to update a day or
so late. That will give me time to think about things and be
somewhat more coherent in my thoughts.

     Frank and I did yard work over the long weekend. We did the
usual end of summer stuff, clean out gutters, shut off outside
faucets, roll up hoses, paint, caulk, minor repairs, take out
screens and put in storm windows. It was different this year.
Since I’m in skirts now, Frank got less work done. He held the
ladder while I cleaned the gutters. The view was better from his
point of view. I got off on it bit, purposely wearing a shorter
denim skirt than I should have. Sunday was particularly warm and I
wore a baggy, cropped, sleeveless T-shirt that exposed my boobies
when I bent over. He can see me naked any time he wants, yet he
seemed to enjoy momentary glimpses more. If we weren’t so sore
from yard work, I think the sex would have been great.

    October 23 Thursday

     The high heels and ankle socks I ordered on-line came
yesterday. I never though that I would buy something that sexy for
myself. They didn’t have my size, so I got a half size larger.
That turned out to be a good thing. Ballet boots have heels so
high that you literally walk on your toes. With the laces tight,
my weight was on my heel and instep, with my toes barely touching.
Still, they are NOT hiking boots! Hiking boots will take you
twenty miles. Dressy flats will take you several miles. Heels will
take you 100 yards. Ballet boots are good for 200 feet if you are
lucky. They are sexy as hell, but don’t plan on walking very far!
I practiced walking around the house in them, but was still
unsteady when discomfort made me take them off. I stashed them in
the back of the closet. I don’t want to give Frank any ideas
involving shoes that are that uncomfortable.

     Frank has been more cuddly and romantic than he used to be,
but has seemed to fall back nearly into the same routine.
Mentally, I’m still not comfortable without underwear, but when I
tried on a pair today, just to see how much difference it made,
they felt uncomfortable physically. I tried on a cotton thong and
one of the tiny g-strings frank bought back on Labor Day weekend
and they didn’t feel much better. When I wore panties 24/7, even
to bed, they didn’t feel uncomfortable. Now even the most delicate
ones feel like they dig in. If Frank doesn’t start using up his 12
days soon, I’m going to start picking days myself. We didn’t
specify who got to pick the days. Keeping with my deal, I’m
shaving my pubes every other day. There is something about shaving
pubes that feels good. I don’t mean just the increased sensitivity
of the skin. It’s more mental, like scraping off the old and
starting fresh every day.

    October 27 Monday

     Frank told me that he bought our Halloween costumes for this
year. We usually pick them out together. I asked what he bought
for me and he smiled and said “You’ll see.”

    November 4 Tuesday

     Friday, after Frank left for work I noticed a pair of
seriously high heels and a package of fishnet tights on the bed
along with the ankle chains. It was obvious that whatever he had
planned for me was going to happen at our friends’ annual
Halloween party tonight. After lunch, I put on the fishnet and
locked on the heels. I was worried that I would be embarrassed in
front of our friends, yet I hoped he had something interesting
planned as I was feeling bored. I found myself wondering if the
fishnet and heels was my costume. Could he possibly want me to go
to the party wearing only fishnet tights, heels and a smile? The
thought did excite me. I wondered if I could walk into the party
like that. I decided that I could and would. If I had any
subconscious doubt, I would not have put on the locks. At least
that is what I told myself.

     It was a French Maid costume he bought for me. He was the
lord of the manor. It was a set. The first thing I noticed was how
short it was, about 1 inch below crotch height in the front. A
look in the mirror showed that it didn’t quite cover my ass in the
back. I pointed that out to Frank and he “fixed it” by untying the
apron and retying it with the hemline of the dress in the bow.
That exposed most of my ass. The half inch mesh of the fishnet
didn’t hide a thing. I figured it was another tease. He would
untie the hem before we got to the party. He was just going to
make me worry till we got there. There was no way he was going to
make me show my ass in front of all our friends. On the other
hand, I had decided that I could walk in the door in just the
fishnet and heels or at least I thought I could.
     I was wrong about it being a tease. Brenda met us at the door
and we went in. Brenda took one look at my costume and said “Do
you know that your hem is in the bow?” I replied “Yes, it’s…” she
interrupted with “It’s because Frank dressed you, isn’t it?” I
just shook my head. She said “Me too.” I said “Frank dressed you?”
“No silly. Ed picked out my outfit.” She replied. She actually
looked relived. The little skirt of the stripper’s costume Ed
picked for her showed the lower half of her ass. At least she
could raise her arms over her head without the hemline in the
front showing her crotch. She had a g-string underneath. I just
had fishnet that wouldn’t trap a guppy. Compared to us, Britt, as
Princess Leia from the sail barge scene, was overdressed.
     Halloween is the one time of the year that you can wear
lingerie and some kind of animal ears and not be called a slut, so
I wasn’t too embarrassed. Still, I was a little uncomfortable.
     I stayed seated most of the time so nobody saw my ass more
than necessary but after a few drinks I loosened up a bit. Several
times forgot that I had to keep my knees tightly together. I don’t
think anybody noticed. Every time Brenda bent over all the guy’s
eyes were on her ass. As hostess of the party, she was always
moving.
     We were both tired after the party and went right to bed when
we got home, sans sex.
     Frank unlocked me first thing in the morning. I took a shower
and shaved my pubes before breakfast. I wanted sex and Frank was
making breakfast. I was getting pissed of at him. Luckily, he
wasn’t done with me yet. The heels, chains, locks and choker from
the French maid outfit were laid out on the bed. I got dressed in
my outfit for the day, skimpy as it was. After breakfast, Frank
handed me my coat and we went grocery shopping. That wasn’t what I
had in mind. It wasn’t a total bore though. Being buck naked under
the coat in the totally normal setting of the grocery store was an
interesting experience. After that, we went clothes shopping. That
was more fun. He had me come out of the dressing room to show him
each outfit. Several times, he wasn’t the only guy there. Walking
out in something sheer or skimpy, not knowing if some stranger
would be there was a rush. Still, it didn’t compare to the rush I
got at the strip club. Nothing he has come up with compared to
that rush, though the French maid costume came close.
     Wearing my coat into the dressing room must have looked
suspicious on the security camera. On the way out of the store,
security stopped us and said that he had to ask us a few
questions. Looking back on it, he was probably trying to delay us
till another security guard checked the dressing room. I had left
the last outfit in the dressing room and, not seeing me bring it
out, must have assumed it was under my coat. Frank said “Show him
you have nothing to hide.” I still can’t believe I did it, but I
undid the 4 buttons while holding it closed, then spread it wide
open and held it open for what seemed like and eternity, but was
probably 3 seconds.
     Something crashed to the floor by the registers and the
security guard apologized profusely. My heart was pounding and I
felt like I had run a mile by the time we walked to the car.
     Though short lived, it was a rush as good as the strip club.
I just had to dump some of the adrenalin and let out a scream that
startled Frank. I wanted sex and Frank wanted lunch. I had to
settle for sucking on the straw in my Coke. I still can’t believe
that Frank didn’t want even a blow job in the Mc Donald’s parking
lot. I had never felt so horny in my life!
     We went for a walk around a lake near home and then, feet
throbbing, we stopped at an A&W for dinner. The cool breeze up
under my coat and the feel of the fleece liner tickling my nipples
had me so horny I would have just about anything with anybody for
the promise of an orgasm. Back in the car, I unbuttoned my coat
and started to play with myself. Frank told me to stop. He didn’t
want me satisfied yet. He didn’t take care of me at home either.

     I’m getting used to sleeping in heels. I slept so soundly
that I didn’t even wake up when Frank unlocked me. I was so
frigging horny in the morning that if Frank didn’t want sex, I’d
figure out a way to rape him. Can a woman rape a guy? Would you
pull a knife on him, grab his dick and say “Use it or loose it”?
Can a guy perform under that sort of pressure? I’m sure some guys
could “rise” to the occasion. I showered and shaved my pubes. I
could hear Frank moving around downstairs. The chains weren’t on
the bed like he wanted me to use them. I decided to go “Nuclear”.
     I dug out the Ballet boots from the back of the closet and
put them on with the black lace ankle socks. Then I found the big
vibrator that I got as a gag gift years ago. I loaded it with
fresh batteries, moistened it, and slipped it in. Then I went down
stairs to ignore Frank.
     I found a big bunch of roses on the dining room table next to
a white silk blouse, black pleated mini skirt and the chains. On
the floor was a pair of 5-inch heels, high, but slightly lower
than I’d been in for two days. He said “Wanna go out for
breakfast? I figured you would want the lower heels today, but I
see you already picked out shoes.”
     I just said “OK.” Then I put on the clothes, chains and locks
first. Since the Ballet boots didn’t have a loop in the back I
positioned the lock in the front, clipping it through the laces.
It was more noticeable there, but those shoes were so noticeable
that the locks didn’t standout at all. I didn’t tell Frank about
the vibrator because he didn’t want me satisfied. I didn’t go to
the bathroom and take it out because I was feeling defiant. It
wasn’t doing much for me anyway.
     About halfway through my Grand Slam breakfast at Denny’s, the
vibrator finally had an effect. A major effect. Frank noticed me
breathing heavy and asked what was wrong. I told him about the
vibrator and he smiled. I wanted to go to the ladies room and take
it out. He said that since he didn’t want me satisfied and I knew
that, I would have to be punished. He told me to sit there and
finish my breakfast. After a 3 day long state of horniness, I knew
I wasn’t going to be able to just sit there quietly and nibble on
my pancakes. I put a napkin between my legs in case I pissed
myself. I stuffed my mouth with pancakes hoping to stifle a
scream. It worked, but it must have looked like I was having a
seizure.
     I was never so embarrassed in my life. Nobody said anything.
It’s not polite to comment about a serious medical condition like
epilepsy. The shoes and short skirt were evidence that it was
something other than a seizure but the way I staggered out of
there, unsteady in those shoes, could have looked like the
aftermath of a seizure. Whatever they thought, I was embarrassed.
I had a serious orgasm in Denny’s, with people watching.
     Back home, Frank had me strip to my shoes, spread my legs,
bend over and grab my ankles. I had though my punishment for
disobedience was the embarrassment. It was 20 smacks on the ass
with the fly swatter. The smacks on my ass hut, but the ones where
he swung from below and hit my pubic area were strangely pleasant.
They hurt, but it felt good at the same time. I’m not into pain. I
hate going to the dentist. I even hate getting a flu shot.
     Frank was not satisfied with just spanking me. He told me
that the punishment for escapees from chain gangs was to get
permanent leg shackles and chains. I had seen the movie Cool Hand
Luke. I knew what he was talking about. He decided that I would
get a body piercing to remind me not to do it again.
     On one hand, I had brought it on myself, I did want my Frank
to push my limits and I did defy his wishes while the chains were
on. On the other hand, most body piercing hurt!
     When we got to the piercer, frank had me take off my coat and
stand there buck naked while he picked out my new jewelry. I
didn’t find out what it was till I was in the chair. In spite of
the numbness from the ice, that big needle hurt like hell! It
surprised me how little blood there was. The piercer showed me how
to clean and disinfect it till it healed. I now have a ¾ inch 14-
gauge gold bead ring in my left nipple!
     Frank let me take off the shoes at bedtime after I gave him a
BJ. Then he finally fucked me!
     Frank left the ankle chains on me in the morning when he left
for work, with the instructions that I had to stay naked all day
except for the ballet heels if my feet got cold. I tried to keep
busy all day to keep my mind off my throbbing nipple and the chill
in the air. I actually put the heels on for a few hours after
lunch. Somehow I felt more dressed in the heels. I shaved my pubes
twice and did my hair. I was hoping that Frank would take me out
to dinner. He didn’t mention what he wanted for dinner, like he
usually did, and I still had the chains on, so I was assuming we
were going out. He came home with Chinese take out and a Japanese
rope bondage kit. We ate and tried out a dozen uncomfortable
positions. It was fun being helpless for sex, but I still felt
vaguely unsatisfied.
     When I woke up this morning the chains were gone. There are
now 8 days left on my tab.

    December 1 Monday

     It’s been an interesting week. The nipple piercing is healed
and it doesn’t hurt anymore. It took about a week for me to get
comfortable with it. Now it’s like it is part of me. The only
problem is that I feel lop sided. I have 2 nipples and only one
ring.
     Frank put the chains and a pair of heels on the bed the
Saturday morning before Thanksgiving. I knew the routine. If he
didn’t put out clothes with the chains, he wanted me naked. We
spent the weekend Christmas shopping. I’m pretty comfortable now
wearing only my long coat and heels. Both days we stopped at the
topless bar, where we went when I first put on the chains, for a
few drinks before going home. He didn’t have a g-string or top
with him so I knew I wouldn’t have to get up and dance. It was
kind of a letdown, not having my imagination run wild while
wondering what he would have me do.
     Monday morning I got an idea. I skipped shaving my pubes. I
figured he would notice and I would have to be punished. I would
get a few smacks on the ass and a trip to the piercer for the
right nipple ring. I really hated being lop-sided. Things went a
bit different than planned.
     Frank used the rope bondage kit to tie my ankles to the
bedposts and tie my wrists together. Once it was adjusted so that
my ass was barely on the bed, he just left me there for about 10
minutes. It seemed much longer. Then he came back, lubed up the
vibrator and stuck that in me. After another 10 minutes he came
back with a riding crop. All he said was fuzzy pussys get flogged
and proceeded to give me 10. Then I went and shaved and Frank left
for work.
     Tuesday I tried it again. I ended up with my wrists tied to
my ankles and leaned against the wall with my legs spread
uncomfortably wide while he gave me 20.
     Thursday morning I actually did forget to shave. I got up
early to start the turkey and it disrupted my morning routine. I
found out how flexible I am. I ended up with my ankles tied behind
my head and my wrists tied under my ass while he gave me 30. 10 is
arousing. 20 is kinky. 30 hurts! I was relived when he said that
it was obvious that I needed a more permanent reminder and that we
would visit the piercer on Sunday. I felt it was worth getting 60
with the riding crop so I could get the right side nipple done.

     Thanksgiving dinner was a hoot! Frank left the chains on me
so I wore ankle boots to cover them. It was strange wearing no
bra, panties or pantyhose around my family. I was worried that I
would forget to keep my knees together and someone would ask about
my lack of under-attire. Things went as boringly normal as usual.
     Normal, until my sister decided to hang around for awhile
after everyone else had left. She was having problems at home and
didn’t have her husband in tow like usual. My sister and I don’t
get along and Frank absolutely loathes her. She used to cut the
hair off her dolls and tell mom that I did it. I would catch hell
and she would get my dolls. I got my ass spanked and her bald
dolls. She always got the upper hand. I never could stand up to
her. As we got older, she got far more creative and vindictive.
High school was a time in my life that I wish I could forget,
courtesy of my big sister.
     It turns out that she is getting a divorce. By the time the
house is sold and the mortgage is paid and the credit cards are
paid and the lawyer is paid, she will be lucky if he gets custody
of the remaining debt. I can’t say I’m going to shed a tear. She
was exploring her options. She wanted to know if she could move in
with us. For a woman that burns her bridges in front of her, she
was remarkably optimistic.
     Frank decided to have some fun with her. He told her that we
didn’t want any house guests, but we were looking for a maid. To
my surprise, she didn’t dismiss it immediately. Frank laid it on
thicker as he went, no pay, just a room and food, on duty 24 hours
a day with only Sundays off. She looked shocked that we would
treat anyone that way, especially a relative. I was enjoying her
misery, but she still hadn’t left yet. Sarcastically, she asked if
the job had any perks. Frank told her “Just free cable and
broadband internet.” She still hadn’t left so Frank decided to go
nuclear. After listing job requirements and restrictions that
would keep a starving illegal alien from taking the job, He told
her that the job requires wearing a maid’s uniform and sent me
upstairs for it. I came back down with my Halloween costume and
showed it to her. She finally looked shocked. Sarcastically, she
asked if it came with matching satin panties, fishnet stockings
and heels. With a straight face he told her no and she would have
to supply her own heels, 6 inch minimum, preferably with an ankle
strap and shave her pubes. With that, she looked at me. I just
shrugged my shoulders and said “Well you will be handling food.”
The look on her face was priceless. She shook her head and said
“I’d rather work naked. Then she put on her coat and headed for
the door. Frank just had to get in one last jab. “Well if you are
willing to work naked, you can start anytime!”
     She didn’t even slam the door behind her. I think she wanted
us to see her walking away. After she got in her car we both burst
out laughing. Revenge is a dish best served cold!
     I let Frank take the lead in tormenting my sister. That’s out
of character for me. I think the chains are making me more
submissive. I know I can just take them off anytime I want, but I
like not knowing what Frank has in mind for me and I like having
my limits pushed. I have been considering expanding my submissive
status to 24/7/365 no safe word, no limits. I guess it fits with
my personality. I’m a coaster freak. I love roller coasters. Once
it starts, you can’t get off till it’s done. The longer and
scarier the ride the better I like it.

    Tuesday December 9

     Frank took the chains off with one day remaining on my tab. I
wonder what he is saving it for.
     My whole plan to get the other nipple pierced went bust.
Frank had my clit hood pierced. It’s a ¾ inch gold bead ring. It
didn’t hurt nearly as much as the nipple piercing did.

    Sunday December 21

     I woke up with the chains already on my ankles. Frank put
them on me while I was sleeping. He gave me a little vibrator the
size of a marble that ran on a watch battery. I had to hang it on
my clit hood ring. He then had me put on my Ballet boots and a
coat, not my long one, and we went out to a movie. The vibrator
kept jumping around randomly and I instinctively clamped my legs
together to keep it from being too distracting. Every time Frank
caught me with my knees together, he made me undo one button of my
coat. I managed to leave the theater with only 2 buttons holding
it closed.
     After getting caught with my knees together twice in the car,
he made me get out and put my coat in the trunk. As I closed the
trunk, he drove off. I ducked behind some roadside bushes and
waited. A few minutes later he came back and I ran to the car. He
drove off about 50 feet and stopped. I ran for the car and he
Drove off about a 100 feet. I realized that he didn’t want me to
run. I just held my head high and walked to the car as if I
weren’t naked. I was glad it was a nearly deserted country road.
He didn’t pop the trunk as I got to the car, so I got in naked. He
had me put on a blindfold that he just happened to have with him
and we drove around for a while.
     When we stopped, I had to get out and walk about 75 steps
past what felt like some bushes. He put some kind of straps around
my wrists and ankles. Then he had me step up on something
unsteady. My hands were pulled up over my head and secured.
Suddenly whatever I was standing on was knocked out from under me
and I was dangling by the straps. Then he pulled my ankles out to
the sides and secured them. It was cold out. I was naked and
apparently hanging from a tree limb with my legs spread and a tiny
vibrator twitching on my clit hood ring. I started to say
something and he put a ball gag in my mouth. Then I heard him walk
away and start the car. I heard the car pull away and sheer terror
set in. After a few moments, which seemed like hours, I realized
that he was not going to leave me there. I tried to relax, with
limited success. Just as I began to shiver I felt a sharp pain in
my groin. It took a few seconds to realize what it was. Frank had
snuck back and smacked me with the riding crop. The sensation was
incredible! He smacked me a few times more, at random intervals so
I wouldn’t be able to prepare for it. I nearly peed myself.
     Then he released my ankles, lowered my feet to the ground and
freed my hands, only to secure them behind my back again. Then he
removed the ball gag. Still blindfolded, I had to kneel in the
snow and give him a BJ.
     Then I had to face the tree trunk. I could feel the rough wet
bark against my body. Then I heard him leave again. Shortly I
heard the car come back and he had me walk back to it, still
blindfolded. He put me in the trunk for a short drive. When he
stopped, I heard a garage door closing and then the trunk opened.
He took off the blindfold and I saw we were in our own garage and
I also got my first look at my new jewelry. It matched the other
side perfectly.
     Frank lead me upstairs, my wrists still secured behind my
back and stood me at the bedroom window. He said to stay there
till he came back. After a few minutes I got bored and while
watching the birds on the bird feeder, noticed the unique tracks
of my ballet boots. I hadn’t been hung in some random tree miles
from home. It was the big maple tree in our own rather secluded
back yard.
     I was pissed off that he had tricked me so easily that I gave
him a hard time about it. He told me to be quiet and I back talked
him even more. Then He said “That does it. You need to be
punished.” I shut up immediately, but he put the ball gag back in
anyway. He clipped my ankle cuffs to my wrist cuffs so I was bent
over at an uncomfortable angle. Then he ran a cord from the loop
on the ball gag to the leg of the dresser and pulled my face down
lower so I was in an even more uncomfortable position. He removed
the vibrator and gave me 20 on the pussy with the riding crop.
     After releasing my wrists, he told me to get ready; we were
going out to dinner. I took a quick pee and put on the dress he
laid out on the bed. Then he handed me the little vibrator and I
dutifully hung it back on my clit hood ring.
     Without even a hint of what he had in mind, we stopped at the
piercer. I had to take off my dress completely while getting my
right nipple pierced. At least I’m not lop sided anymore.
     With a new ring and a Band Aid on my right boobie, we went to
Outback Steakhouse. It was a relief to get off my feet. Ballet
Boots get very painful after a while.
     My dress was short, but I didn’t dare let my knees touch. I
didn’t want to give him an excuse for some other torment or
embarrassment. I had enough for one day. That’s when it hit me. I
had enough. He had pushed my comfort limits to the point of
discomfort, but not beyond. It was like a good roller coaster, as
much as you can handle without puking your guts up. I felt
satisfied. I also felt horny as hell. It was a cold December day
and I was wearing ballet boots and a thin, low cut, mini length
dress with no underwear in a public place and I felt satisfied not
embarrassed.
     I think that’s when I decided to take this further. When the
chains came off that night, I was off the hook. I wanted to be
back on it in a big way. I only had a few days left to plan.

    December 26

     Early in the morning on Christmas Eve I went to the local
jeweler for a custom item that I decided on a few days before. It
was a pair of gold ankle bracelets, delicate and dressy enough not
to be noticed as out of place. The jeweler had to put them on me
because I wanted them with no clasp, not even a split link. I had
him solder them on. They were to wear 24/7/365. I wore dressy
boots so frank wouldn’t see the chains. We visited relatives and
friends as usual and when we got home it was late. I put on socks,
supposedly to keep my feet warm, and we went to bed.
     On Christmas morning, when we traditionally exchange gifts, I
showed him the new ankle bracelets and explained the rules. The
only limits I set were that he couldn’t have me do anything that
would damage our relationship, leave physical or mental damage or
scars and that he had to do enough to keep it interesting. He
insisted that he get a warning if he got close to stepping over
the line. I didn’t really want any limits. It’s more thrilling
that way. Still, there has to be some limits. I relented and told
him that I would call him Franklin, which he hates, if things went
too far.
     He smiled and I could see the thoughts start whirling in his
mind.
     When I opened my gift from him, I was very surprised. It was
a collection of nipple jewelry, bondage paraphernalia, sex toys,
garter belts and stockings in a box under a really nice sweater. I
think he suspected what I had planned.
     This morning I saw the list of rules he posted on the
refrigerator.

     No leg hair.
     No underarm hair.
     No pussy hair unless specified by him.
     No ass crack hair.
     No underwear of any kind except garter belts and stockings
except as needed on a monthly basis and only as long as is
absolutely needed.
     Stocking tops must not be visible when wearing a skirt or
dress.
     No slacks, jean or shorts without permission unless worn with
5 inch or higher heels while topless.
     No skirts or dresses longer than 6 inches above the knee
without permission.
     Buttons above nipple height will not be used without
permission.
     Zippers will not be zipped above nipple height without
permission.
     No shoes other than 5 inch or higher heels without
permission.
     No open toed shoes with stockings.
     No back talking.
     No masturbating.
     No spitting during or after a Blow Job. It will be swallowed.
     The toilet paper must come off the TOP of the roll.
     The toilet seat will be left up.
     Nipple jewelry will be changed at least once a week.
     No Nipple jewelry will be worn less than 3 days running.
     All nipple jewelry will be worn before wearing any one piece
again.
     Any nipple jewelry suitable for wearing in the clit hood
piercing will be rotated through that position under the same 3-
day minimum, 5-day maximum rule.
     Violation of any rules will be subject to whatever punishment
comes to mind and will not necessarily be in proportion to the
degree of the violation.

     It was much as I expected with only a few surprises. I’ve
been following most of those rules since September anyway. What I
didn’t expect was to find a list posted on the refrigerator.
     I asked him about bikini waxing because it requires that the
hair grow back a bit before ripping it off again. He told me that
if it gets fuzzy it gets the riding crop. I asked about the no
masturbating rule and he said that he decides when I orgasm from
now on. I may have made a Frankenstein out of Frank. I better end
this entry now and go upstairs to check the toilet paper roll.

    January 5

     Frank has been very easy about giving me permission to wear
sneakers and jeans, at least while working on the den. He did keep
me topless most of the time though. I did keep me from getting
paint on a sweatshirt. It’s been 6 months since we started, but we
finally finished the den. We had to strip it to the studs after
squirrels chewed a hole in the roof and the rain got into the
wall. We got the Nordic track and the treadmill moved in and
Frank’s weights should be moved in over next weekend. Frank gets a
kick out of watching me jog naked on the treadmill. It actually
should be a nice place to exercise once the paint smell fades. One
thing worries me. He installed 2 small hooks in the wall just
below shoulder height and an eyebolt in the ceiling. He won’t say
what they are for.
     I’m surprised at my own change of attitudes. I went from
being reluctant to get a bikini waxing to actually enjoying a
riding crop. I think it’s all about how you look at it. A vibrator
is just an annoying buzz in the crotch until you make it erotic in
your mind. The riding crop hurts more than a waxing, but I
associate it with sex and it becomes an intense stimulation in an
erogenous zone. Sure it hurts, but it hurts in an erotic fashion.
It focuses my thoughts on my pussy and keeps them there. Even my
language has changed a bit. I would never use the word “pussy”
that way before now. I’m also more vocal during sex. I think it
goes hand in hand with being less inhibited in general. Frank has
put the ball gag to good use so the neighbors don’t call the cops
when I orgasm.

    January 28, 2009

     It’s been a quiet 2 weeks. I think Frank is letting me settle
in with the new rules. I keep forgetting about the toilet seat and
have been reminded about that rule with the riding crop twice
spent the weekend wearing nothing but jewelry and the ballet
heels. I’m getting used to the clit hood ring. If I knew it would
be this stimulating, I’d have gotten one years ago. The nipple
jewelry is nice, but not as much fun as the clit ring. The only
nipple jewelry that I have a problem is the nipple shields. They
are shaped like thimbles, but open on both ends. To put them on, I
have to put a bar through the piercing and loop a piece of dental
floss through the shield and under the bar. Then I stretch the
nipple out and position the bar so it won’t let the nipple back
through the shield. They hold my nipples stretched out so that it
looks like I have huge nipples on a cold day. It hurts a bit when
I first put them on, feel good after a while. Frank likes me to
wear them with tight sweaters. You can probably see the bumps 100
feet away.
     Frank’s job has gone to a 4 day work week and the loss of a
days pay each week is making things tight. I have been out of work
now for 8 months. Rewarding countries that are politically correct
with favorable trade deals instead of going with the bottom line
is not a way to run a country and it’s likely to get worse. Frank
got a part time job tending bar at a friends place. It’s a
country-western theme place. Think of a country version of
Hooters. It’s not the name over the door, but most of the people I
know call it “Cooters.” When the economy is good, people drink to
celebrate. If the economy sucks, they drink to console themselves.
It’s a safe business to be in.
     The extra income is nice, but I end up horny and alone at
home even more now.
     On the plus side, I lost 5 pounds so far jogging naked on the
tread mill. I think I can run longer naked because the air keeps
me cooler and I run faster to stay warm. The nipple jewelry and
clit ring add a bit of stimulation and make running more
pleasurable.

    February 15

     Frank had me put on the nipple shields, out of sequence, and
gave me a very small clit hood ring, with a dangling ball and
chain to put in. The small ring pulled back the skin and left my
clit exposed and the chain kept rubbing on my clit and tickling my
inner thighs. Then he had me pick out shoes. The shoes I picked
would determine what he would have me wear. At first I thought
that if I picked conservative shoes, he would have me dress
sexier. Then I thought if I picked outrageous shoes, I would end
up in sexier clothes. Not knowing what shoes would lead to which
outfit, I just went with ankle-strap plats. I like feeling tall.
Frank had me put on black stockings, black garter belt, a blue
satin skirt, white satin blouse and silver bracelets. The skirt
was just long enough to hide the stocking tops. The nipple bumps
from the shields were huge, but since it was cold out, not
entirely out of place.
     Just walking was enough to get the miniature ball and chain
swinging back and forth, rubbing over the tip of my clit with
every step. It was just the thing to keep my thoughts between my
legs.
     Frank told me that he couldn’t decide what he wanted me to
do. I could go to the men’s room with him after dinner, strip to
my shoes and jewelry, hand him my clothes and give him a 10-minute
head start before making a dash through the restaurant for the
car. Or, I could give him a blowjob while we waited for the food.
I told him I would rather do the blowjob, because it would be hard
to run in those shoes. He suggested walking. I slowly undid 3
buttons on my blouse while suggesting the blowjob, one more and
I’d be unbuttoned to the waist. He flipped a coin, I did the
blowjob. I think that’s what he had planned anyway since it’s the
first restaurant we have been in that had long tablecloths in
years. I don’t think anybody noticed when I ducked under the
table, but I don’t know for sure.
     After dinner we stopped in a bar with pool tables and played
a few games. Frank didn’t let me button up my blouse after the
blowjob and I had to be careful how I moved, though I’m sure more
than a few guys at the bar noticed. One guy made the comment “Nice
jewelry.” I doubt he was referring to the bracelets.
     When I was finally relaxed enough to win a game, Frank told
me to play someone else while he watched. I actually managed to
win 5 games in a row. I think the guys that I was playing were
distracted. I’m not that good at pool.
     On one hand I was embarrassed though I was careful not to
show it. On the other hand I was definitely getting a rush from
knowing that strange guys were seeing my tits. They were short
glimpses, but constantly repeated for over 2 hours. The effect was
stronger than flashing the security guard.
     We got home at 2 AM and after another blowjob, we fell
asleep, Frank satisfied and me horny as hell.


    February 20

     I found a Carmen Electra “Fit to Strip” DVD in the player
this morning. It’s an obvious hint from Frank. It’s part of a
multi-disc set, so I’ll probably be getting the rest, one at a
time as a countdown to him actually getting me up on stage in some
strip club. It’s a pretty good workout and 80% of the fun is in
the anticipation of loosing control.

    February 28

     I screwed up yesterday. I put the toilet paper backwards on
the Roll and buttoned my blouse above nipple height. Frank had me
put on the ballet heels, leather wrist cuffs, blindfold and a ball
gag. Then I had to stand in the corner of the den with my wrist
cuffs tied to the eyebolt in the ceiling and my nipple rings over
the little hooks on the wall. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable at
first, but got seriously uncomfortable as time passed. I found out
later that I was only there for twenty minutes, but it seemed like
hours. When he finally came to release me he took off the ball gag
and asked me what I was willing to do to be released. I didn’t
know what to say. I said I would do anything he wanted me to do,
but he wanted me to name something. It was like he wanted me to
name my own punishment. I couldn’t think of anything specific and
he said he would think of something and surprise me. I though that
would be the end of it, but he slowly lifted my left ankle
straight out to my side and he tied it to the treadmill. I was
standing on one foot with the other tied out to my side and my
hands tied to the eyebolt in the ceiling. Then he proceeded to
give me thirty on the pussy with the riding crop. I actually
orgasmed around the twentieth. I was my only orgasm in what seems
like an eternity.
     He let me loose and told me to wear nothing but my piercing
jewelry and the ballet heels until told otherwise. I am only
allowed to take off the heels to take a shower or in bed.

    March 14

     I have been naked for 2 weeks now. Frank let me out of the
ballet heels when I started getting a blister. One thing is for
sure, I won’t be buttoning up my blouse without thinking. The only
time I wear anything now is when I do my grocery shopping wearing
5-inch pumps and a coat. The weather is warmer now and the long
coat looks out of place so I’m wearing one that is about 5 inches
over my knees. It’s long enough to cover a miniskirt, but a
regular length skirt would show. Yesterday, at the grocery store,
a couple of guys were looking at me as though that knew I was
naked under the coat. I mentioned it to Frank and he told me that
if anybody asked what I had on under the coat, I wasn’t to tell
him or her, I was to show them. Frank will probably have one of
his buddies, that I don’t know, ask me and I’ll have to flash him,
or risk the punishment. Then again, if it’s some stranger, I can
get away with not flashing. Now I have to wonder how long before I
get asked and where and if I should flash or take the punishment.
The thought of flashing some guy in the produce aisle gives me a
rush.
     I am so horny I can’t think straight.

    March 19, 2009
     This morning, Frank told me that I could start wearing
clothes again. After nearly 3 weeks bare-assed naked and barefoot,
with only short stretches in an overcoat and heels, I was getting
used to it. After he left for work, I decided to get dressed. I
found myself actually having a hard time deciding what to wear. I
actually tried on a bunch of things on before deciding on tight
jeans with ankle strap pumps and a belt that matched the pumps.
I’m staying topless of course in accordance with Frank’s rule #7
as posted on the refrigerator.
     It’s been so long since I’ve worn anything that covered my
crotch, that I find it mildly erotic. The fact that it presses on
my clit hood jewelry is a mixed blessing. I decided to go to the
next nipple jewelry in the rotation, as per Frank’s rules # 18-19-
20, to the big nipple shields. It took some time to get them in
place like always. They stretch my nipples so tight that they can
be a real bitch to get into. The piercer told me that the healing
around the piercing and the stretching effect of the shields
should make my nipples grow a bit. They are definitely bigger than
they used to be.

    April 2

     Frank took me to a “Munch” yesterday. I had no idea what a
“Munch” is, but given the date I thought it was a joke that I
didn’t get and played along like I did.
     He had me put a soft dildo in and put on tight jeans. Then he
decided that my nipple rings were too obvious and had me switch to
nipple shields. That made my nipples much more obvious, but they
looked like really big nipples on a cold day and not like jewelry.
He completed my outfit with red heels and a T-shirt that was a
size too small that has a graphic of a car with its lights on and
the words “My Headlights are on for Safety.”
     We went to a side room at a restaurant a few miles away with
seating for about 80 people. It was nearly full. Everybody looked
quite normal until I started looking more closely. Since I was a
bit self conscious about the apparent size of my nipples, I
started checking out the other nipples in the room. That’s when I
noticed that there were more people with nipple jewelry that the
average group one might meet at a church social. There were more
tattoos, and more women with goth-lite makeup that I expected. It
was nothing that really stood out and I probably wouldn’t have
noticed if I hadn’t been looking more closely that normal.
     We sat at a table with 2 other couples that looked perfectly
normal. Even more normal than me, considering the way my nipples
poked at my T-shirt. It turned out that a “Munch” is a “meet and
greet” for the local BDSM crowd. These are people with all sorts
of normal jobs and lives that have a kinky side to them. One of
the couples has a very similar relationship to what Frank and I
have. He posted his rules for her on the inside of the bedroom
door. The other couple “Plays” with multiple partners and couples.
Compared to them, Frank and I are very very vanilla. We chatted
for over an hour before one of the women produced one of those
neat little LCD photo albums. It was strange seeing this woman
that looked like a High School Guidance Counselor, naked in
stilettos and handcuffs in one photo and getting flogged while
tied to a St Andrews Cross. One photo was a close-up of her
pierced and triple padlocked labia. I decided not to show that one
to frank. As I looked through the photo I realized that there was
far more to this stuff than what Frank and I had been doing.
     I was getting seriously aroused. I excused myself and went to
the ladies room. I had to go anyway. The dildo felt like it was
poking me in the bladder. I peed and was about to masturbate,
breaking Frank’s rules, but decided not to. I put the dildo back
in place and went back to the table. I was so horny that I wished
that it was the vibrator instead of the dildo so I could cum right
there.
     I had plenty on my mind during the drive home. I couldn’t get
the image of the three little padlocks out of my thoughts. What
would it be like to have them hanging between my thighs? What if
frank had me put in a big dildo and left it locked in there for a
few days? What was one of their “Play Parties” like? Would Frank
take up their invitation to one of their parties? Would I ever
“Play” with someone other than Frank like the kinkier couple at
the table?
     That last one really got me thinking. I had never set more
than minor limits on Frank other than that if he was going too far
I would call him Franklin. It is partly because I need risk to
feel the rush. Any limits reduce the risk and the rush is
lessened. My position as what the BDSM crowd calls a “Collared
Submissive” puts Frank in total control and without limits, he
gets to decide.
     Frank appears to have a renewed interest in being my “Dom.”
This morning he posted a new version of the rules, simplified, but
with no major changes.


     No leg hair, underarm hair, ass crack hair or pussy hair
unless specified by him.
     No underwear of any kind except garter belts and stockings
except as needed on a monthly basis and only as long as it is
absolutely needed.
     No slacks, jean or shorts without permission unless worn with
5 inch or higher heels while topless.
     No skirts or dresses longer than 7 inches above the knee
without permission.
     Buttons or zippers will not be used above nipple height
without permission.
     No shoes other than 5 inch or higher heels without
permission.
     No back talking.
     No masturbating.
     No spitting during or after a Blow Job. It will be swallowed.
     A clit hood ring and Nipple shields will be worn at all times
unless specified otherwise.

     Violation of any rules will be subject to whatever punishment
comes to mind and will not necessarily be in proportion to the
degree of the violation.

     I also found 3 new sets of Nipple shields in my jewelry box.
One set is too extreme for me to wear. I just can’t stretch that
far. Another is a silver sunburst similar to Janet Jackson’s. The
third is a thick and heavy steel ring with pointed Allen screws on
opposite sides of the ring. It looks like a torture device.
     There was also an insertion taper, used to guide jewelry
through a piercing and to enlarge a piercing, as well as a pair of
sleeves. It took all morning to get the taper through the right
nipple and the sleeve into hole it stretched out. I feel lop-sided
now, but I should be able to get the left one in after lunch.

    April 20, 2009

     Frank has been an unusually quiet mood for the last 2 weeks.
I just know he’s got something in the works. I got both sleeves
in. The left one took several days of trying to get it stretched
fully. I really like the heavy nipple shields. The points of the
Allen screws go into the ends of the sleeves. I especially like
the way they tug and bounce when I use the treadmill.
     Frank left the second “Fit to Strip” DVD on the top of the TV
and I’m getting pretty good at the moves. At least I won’t look
uncoordinated when he finally gets around to “forcing” me to get
up on stage and strip. He really is sensitive to my needs. 
     I have been thinking about the people we met at the munch and
what Frank might have in mind. I have a more vivid imagination
than Frank and my own imagination is coming up with some pretty
outrageous stuff. If he doesn’t act on this soon, whatever he does
have in mind will be pretty tame compared to my imagination.
     It’s been 30 days since I had an orgasm. Frank has had a BJ a
day, but I’m climbing the walls! Tomorrow, when he gets home, he’s
going to catch me doing yard work in jeans, sneakers and a baggy
sweatshirt. I might even wear panties and a bra. Hell, I might
even skip a day shaving my pubes. If I’m not going to get fucked,
I’m going to get the riding crop. One way or another, my pussy is
going to get some attention!

    April 30, 2009

     I have gotten a bit behind updating this diary. I did wear a
top with jeans and sneakers. He had me inset the big vibrator and
wear it with tight jeans for 3 days, 24 hours a day, changing the
jeans once a day and the batteries for fresh every time I had to
pee. I had several orgasms but staying in jeans with a wet crotch
for 3 days wasn’t really worth it. When he said I could take them
off, I was ecstatic. I showered, shaved and stayed naked for 2
days just because I couldn’t stand being in clothes.
          Frank told me that I would be working at “Cooters” this
weekend. I worked there years ago and never expected to be going
back to waitressing in cowboy boots, a denim skirt, and cowboy hat
with a bandana for a top. The way the economy is going, I hope I
make good tips. I asked Frank about the skirt length and he said
that 7 inches over the knee was Ok with the boss. We all used to
wear shirts longer and with pantyhose last time I worked there. I
wonder if I’m going to be in the shortest skirt or if the new
uniform is shorter.

    May 3 2009

     Not much has changed at “Cooters.” I fell right into the old
routine. The girl that took over as hostess when I left is
pregnant and plans to leave in a month or so. The sound system has
been upgraded and the kitchen completely redone, but the basic
atmosphere of the place is unchanged.
     The air seemed colder than when I used to work there. Most
likely it’s that I’m not in as good shape physically and I’m not
wearing pantyhose. The draft up my skirt is much more noticeable
with my present pubic hairstyle and undergarments, none in both
cases.
     One of the customers on Sunday was the woman I met at the
“munch”, the one with the triple locked pussy lips. She was with
some female friends. All of them looked quite normal. At first, I
didn’t think that she recognized me. Then a little wink and a
smile, when nobody was looking, let me know that she did. One of
the most sacred rules of the BDSM community is never to out
anyone, so I guess that’s all the sign of recognition that I could
expect. I have to wonder if her presence is a coincidence of some
long-term plan of Frank’s.
     Other than sore feet, it went well. I’m not used to being in
cowboy boots for long stretches. A few people Noticed my nipples,
but nobody said anything. It was just the looks I got from guys. I
was wearing the least noticeable nipple shields and “High Beams”
are expected in cool air.
     Frank had me take off the bandanna when we left the parking
lot and ride home topless both nights. That sort of thing is
pretty much standard procedure for me now. Rarely does Frank let
be wear even half what I used to wear in any situation. A ride
home used to be in a blouse, bra, skirt, pantyhose, shoe and
possibly a jacket. Now it’s cowboy boots, a mini skirt and nipple
shields.

    May 12

     I’m working at Cooters 3 days a week now. Frank is on the
same schedule. I complained about the cool draft up my skirt and
now Frank has me naked 24/7 in the house and doing more time on
Nordic Track. My legs look great! And being in better shape does
help me feel warmer.
     My sister, the wicked witch of the west, stopped in at
Cooters with some girlfriends. She took the opportunity to razz me
about waitressing again. Pointing out in front of her friends that
money must be tight for me. Then she quipped that I must not be
looking for a maid anymore. That really pissed me off. I don’t
need her putting me down just to build herself up. I just said
that the position is still open anytime she wants it and walked
away. According to Mom, she’s still without a job, without a
husband, without a boyfriend and soon to be without a place to
live. I’m just without underwear. 
     I accidentally buttoned up a blouse too far when I went
grocery shopping. I noticed it while in the store and wondered if
Frank had noticed. When I got home the ballet heels, wrist cuffs
and nipple rings were waiting. I put them on without saying a
word. He pulled the rope through the eyebolt tighter this time and
my toes were lifted off the floor. Then he turned me to face the
wall and put my nipple rings over the hooks. The new twist was the
spreader bar he put between my ankles. I startet to worry about
the rope giving way and the hooks ripping out my nipple rings.
Frank blindfolded me and unhooked the rings. Then he pulled the
spreader bar up to about my wrist height. I waited for what seemed
hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before I felt the
sting of the riding crop on my pussy. He took his time giving me
twenty at irregular intervals so I couldn’t steel myself to the
pain. Then he gave me the best oral I have had in years. I
orgasamed big time. Not just a “Big o.” It was a “Big OOOOOOOOOO.”
He let me down and had me give him a BJ. Then he cuffed my wrists
to the spreader bar and leaned me against the wall. He gave me a
few more with the riding crop and then fucked me from behind. I
didn’t orgasam, but it was still fun. I had to wear the ballet
heels for 24 hours, but that’s not really a punishment. I kinda
like being naked and on my toes as long as it’s not for too long.
I get blisters after the first day in those shoes.
     First chance I get, I’m sewing closed all the buttonholes
that I’m not supposed to use. I might even overstitch my zippers
just in case. Well maybe not all of them. I might feel the need to
be naughty.

    May 22

     Frank got laid off yesterday. So much for the economic
recovery that we have been promised. I have tried to act extra
sexy for him to keep his mind off things. It dosen’t seem to be
working.

    May 23

     Frank is really down in the dumps. Even a BJ dosen’t seem to
lift his spirits. I decided to go nuclear and get his mind on
something else. I put on nice slacks, cotton socks, sneakers, bra
and a white cotton blouse buttoned all the way up and announced
that I was going to the grocery store to apply for the open
cashiers position. He hesitated for a second and told me to strip
and assume the position. I gave him a defiant look and he took me
by the wrist and led me upstairs and told me once again to assume
the position. I complied and he gave me 10 with the riding crop. I
told him that that dosen’t change anything, I was going to get a
second job. He had me lie on the bed. He tied my ankles behind my
head and my wrists apart to the sides of the bed. It’s a good
thing that I’m flexible. I have actually spent over an hour like
that before. The back of my shoulders left a red mark on the back
of my calves. He gave me 20 more and I was still obstinate. I
hadn’t called him Franklin, our saftey signal, and I’m sure he
noticed that. He continued with the riding crop and I continued
being obstinate. I was getting pretty red between my legs so he
started in on my breasts, OUCH! And the back of my thighs. I was
really getting off on the endorphin rush and wanted to continue,
but I think he was feeling bad because he walked into the bathroom
and came back with a razor, threatening me with a new hairdoo. He
obviously wanted me to capitulate so he wouldn’t have to continue
the beating. I didn’t like the idea of the Mr Clean bald look and
was about to call him Franklin, when I figured out how to signal
him to go on. I rarely called him Master because he was
uncomfortable with the title. That is our relationship now, Master
and collared slave. I just said “Master, Please don’t beat my
pussy anymore.” He thought for a second and said “I’ll decide when
to stop and that will be when you behave.” He then put the razor
down and went back to whipping my pussy. I prolonged the beating
till I orgasamed, barely manageing to hide it from Frank, before I
capitulated and agreed to not go for the job. He rewarded me with
a great fucking, though I was so spent by then that I had to fake
the orgasam.
     The episode got Frank’s mind back in the gutter where I like
it and I still haven’t had too break character to call a safety.

    May 24

     Frank is his old self again. I’m walking funny because my
pussy is still tender.
     Ellen, with the tripple locked labia called and invited us
over for a get-together tomorrow. I figured that kinky parties
would be on weekends. Then what do I know about scheduling kinky
parties. Frank decided that I would love to go and accepted for
both of us.
     I have little idea of what to expect. That’s not a bad thing.
I like the suspense. I just wish the party were a week off. That
would give me more time to fantasize about the possibilities.

    May 26

     Frank had me wear my ballet heels with locking cuffs over the
laces, my most extreme nipple shields, locking wrist cuffs and
locking collar to the party. Once out of the tube dress that I
wore for the drive over, I felt beyond naked. After we arrived and
were introduced around, he chained the D-rings on my cuffs
together behind my back with a chain about a foot long, so I
couldn’t do much with my hands. I felt seriously vulnerable. Not
only was I virtually naked in front of strangers, I was restrained
in a way that left me pretty much helpless.
     I was on the verge of hyperventilating, but managed to stay
composed, at least on the outside. As I got used to the people and
situation, I calmed down a bit. There were all sorts of scenes
playing out between people. One woman was getting a whipping while
tied to a St Andrew’s cross. Another woman in stilettos was
stepping on her naked submissive husband’s nuts. I struck up a
conversation with a striking looking brunette with the most
perfect tits that I have ever seen. She was topless in stiletto
heels and a short skirt. My impression was that she was the most
“vanilla” one there, including Frank and I.
     After about an hour, Ellen told Frank that the “Box” was free
and it was our turn. I asked Frank what was going on and he just
said “You’ll see.” He led me into another room where there was a
box on the table that looked like a cross between a coffin and a
magician’s saw-a-woman-in-half-trick.
     He had me climb into the box and put my head and feet through
the holes at the end. It wasn’t all that easy with my hands behind
my back. Then he slid panels into slots so that I couldn’t get my
head or hands out. When he closed the lid, I nearly freaked out. I
couldn’t escape. I couldn’t move my hands much because I was lying
on the chain that held them together. Frank reached in one of the
holes along the side of the box and massaged my breasts. I asked
him what happens next and he said, “Just go with the flow.” Then
he blindfolded me, put headphones on me and I waited, listening to
the soft music.
     When I felt the first touch on my belly, I jumped in fright.
Then another hand touched my leg and slowly rubbed my calf. The
number of hands went up and I quickly realized that it wasn’t just
Frank. When the first hand touched my breast, I tensed up, but
Frank had said to go with the flow. Soon there were hands on both
breasts and everywhere but my crotch. The hands on my upper thighs
soon moved to my inner thighs and I wasn’t sure whether I should
keep my knees together or spread them wide. I just went limp and
let the hands position my legs. Soon they were moving up my inner
thighs and onto my pubic area which was still sensitive from the
riding crop. Soon they were fondling my labia and tugging
playfully at my clit hood ring. I pressed my knees against the
sides of the box, but I couldn’t spread wide enough. I began to
squirm and moan. The whole thing was just so erotic that I
couldn’t help myself. Nobody stuck a finger inside me or hurt me
in any way. They were all quite gentle and respectful. I just
knew that Frank had set some limits. I soon felt someone, probably
Frank; unlock the chain from the left wrist cuff. I lifted my ass
and slid the chain out from under me. It was more comfortable that
way.
     With my hands free I began to explore out of the box. I felt
a hip and a wrist then a penis. I figure that Frank wanted a hand
job so I obliged. As it quickly got hard, I realized that it
wasn’t Frank. It was small with a wicked curve. I pulled my hand
back in the box as quickly as I could. The hands on my body didn’t
stop or change what they were doing so I explored again. I found a
woman on the other side that didn’t shy away and actually moved
her pussy towards my hand. It felt strange groping that strange
woman while others were groping me. I put my left hand back
outside and found another woman who moved away after a short time
and a man took her spot. I groped him and realized that he wasn’t
Frank or the first guy. I didn’t pull back. I just continued what
I was doing and enjoyed every second of it. The woman on my right
moved away and I found another penis to play with.
     Last August I was embarrassed to be seen topless and last
night I was enjoying what I later learned is called,
appropriately, a “Grope Box.” Just when I thought that things
couldn’t get any more erotic, I felt a cool draft. The lid was off
the box. I felt the hands move away from my breasts and was
feeling disappointed that it was ending. Then it hit me, a sudden
burst of heat, pain and pleasure all in one. It took a few seconds
to realize that it was candle wax. I had seen a couple playing
with candles earlier and had wondered what it was like. After a
few more on my breasts in general and nipples in particular I
realized that I had a death grip on a dick in each hand. I was
about to let go when a drop of hot wax hit my pussy. Without
thinking, I just squeezed them as hard as I could. They didn’t
pull away so I just hung on for what was to come. The effect of
the hot wax didn’t last long. After 30 or so drops, I was coming
down off the rush and needed a drink of water and some air. When I
let go of the guys, I felt my ankles being released and was soon
sitting up and taking off the headphones and blindfold.
     I had to be helped out of the box and didn’t much care who
helped lift what part of me. After some orange juice and a long
wordless hug from Frank, I was feeling pretty good and horny as
all hell. The first words out of my mouth were “Master. Please may
I do it again? Please. Please. Please. You can shave my head if
that pleases you. You can forbid me an orgasm for as long as you
want, you can fuck me up the ass, but could I please do it again?”
I’m not sure if Frank was a surprised at my choice of words as
much as I was, but I meant it all, even the part about anal sex.
That was one thing that I would never have agreed to, even if
Frank asked and I think he knew that. I just had to let him know
that I would do what he asked, wherever he asked it, whatever that
might be.
     Frank said that I had enough for one day and I felt like a
little kid being told that they couldn’t have another ice cream.
He did let me suck his dick and I felt as content a baby suckling
at its mother’s breast. I actually dozed off for a time and woke
up to frank unlocking my cuffs. He had me get totally Naked, which
amounted to taking off my shoes and shackles, and shower before we
got into the hot tub. After a short soak we showered again and it
was time to head home. Some people were passed out on the floor,
but frank was quite sober and decided to drive home. Before
leaving I noticed that the small curved dick belonged to the
striking “woman” with the perfect tits. I found that kind of
creepy as I had been fondling it earlier. I just realized that I
shouldn’t be judging others. Frank and I are pretty kinky and
getting kinkier all the time. I put the ballet heels on and locked
my cuffs and collar in place without being told. I didn’t even
think of putting the tube dress on and just sat there, naked for
the drive home.
     Once home, my master allowed me to suck his dick again and I
fell asleep, still in the heels, suckling contentedly.

    May 28, 2009

     Master has told me to stay naked, except for heels, till
further notice when at home. He has also let me suck his dick
twice a day.
     I thought that my adventure in the grope box would be more
satisfying or at least longer lasting. I doubt I could ever enjoy
it like that again. The thrill of not knowing what was coming only
happens on the first time. The second time can never be as good.
     On my old 1-10 scale of satisfied to horny, I’m at a 35. I
never dreamed that I could get this horny. If master brought home
a Great Dane and told be to kneel and get it doggie style, I’d
give it a try in a second and hope he’s a big one. I see a real
down side now. It will take him some time to top that trip into
BDSM!


    June 4

     I haven’t had much to write about since the BDSM party.
Everything else seems so tame now. We are both working full-time
at Cooters now, at least temporarily. A few of the others are out
sick and we can always use the extra hours.
     Chuck, the boss, made a surprise announcement last night. He
is going to rent out the place for an after hours bachelors party.
He is hiring some strippers for the night, but still needs
waitresses. Part of the surprise was that he wants topless
waitresses and that he doesn’t want to go outside without giving
us 7 full timers the option to do it at double time. Another part
of the surprise was that I had already “volunteered.” Frank had
“volunteered” me.
     The costume would be our usual cowboy boots, a denim skirt
like usual, but shorter, 2 inches or less below the pussy, my
words not his. It was actually funny listening to him try to say
it in mixed company. Also, he wants nothing bigger than a thong
underneath. 4 of us “seven dwarfs” opted in counting me. “Dopey”
the girl with the best chest in the place said that she would, but
not if she had to wear a thong. Chuck told her that I wasn’t
wearing a thong and any of them can follow my lead. “Dopey” said
she would do it. Frank lifted my skirt and said that if she didn’t
wear a thong, she’d have to shave, because she would be handling
food. Some of the girls looked surprised by my lack of underwear
and/or my lack of modesty. She said, “OK.” That surprised me, no
way to thongs, but commando was OK.
     Sandy, AKA “sneezey” due to her allergies, one of the
“Dwarfs”, we are all under 5’3”, mentioned to me later that she
had suspected that I was going commando and that she had done it
herself, but not at work.
     Frank was annoyed that I had instinctively tried to push my
skirt back down when he lifted it. I will be naked at home again,
unless outside for yard work or shopping, wearing shorter skirts
to work now and no masturbation till he says so. I also got 20
lashes and have to wear the big dildo, strapped in with a chastity
belt to bed every night. It’s only been 3 days since he let me
wear clothes around the house and now I’m naked again.

    June 26

     Today is a milestone for me, a whole month without an orgasm.
Oh God I’m horny!!!!! I usually fall asleep suckling on Master’s
dick. Sometimes I suckle till my cheeks are sore. I suck till he
cums and I swallow. I keep sucking till he’s soft. Then I keep on
sucking. On my 1-10 horniness scale, I’m pushing 50! OH, did I
mention that I’m HORNY?

    July 12

     Still no orgasm! My cheeks hurt from sucking. His dick is
going to get raw at this rate. Just thinking of sex, while
practicing my Carmen Electra Stripping workout makes me crazy.
     The bachelor party is coming up soon. I can’t wait to walk
around topless in front of strangers. It will be a welcome
distraction. I was thinking of doing something that will get my
pussy whipped, but realized that the pain will just make me
hornier at this point. OH GOD I”M HORNY!!!!!!

    July 18

     Frank got a package UPS today. He says it’s my reward for
being good but I have to wait till after the bachelor party for
it. If I’m good till then, he promises the best orgasm I have ever
had. I try not to think about it because trying to imagine what I
have in store for me just makes it worse

    Aug 1

     Last night was the bachelor party. “Dopey” my co-worker with
the best tits in the place screwed up right off the bat. She wore
pantyhose instead of a thong. I explained it to her in simple
terms so she would understand and I thought it got through to her.
Then I sent her to the Mall down the road for a thong. She came
back wearing a cheap cotton skinny thong over a wide bush. I
explained it to her again and she seemed to get it. She came back
with Nair bikini cream and went to the ladies room to deal with
the problem. 15 minutes later she came back and told me “I took it
all off. That stuff works good! But, if I don’t have hair down
there, why do I need the thong. It really bothers me having it in
my crack.”
     I explained to her that without the hair, she didn’t need it.
She took it off right there next to the cash register and dropped
it in the trash. I hate to call anyone stupid, but last week her
brand new web book computer wasn’t working when she tried to check
her e-mail using the Cooters Hot-spot. It kept powering off. I
told her to plug it in to charge the battery and she said, “I
don’t have to plug it in. It’s wireless, DUH!” She’s working her
way through nursing school. I for one would be more comfortable if
she were in a profession where people’s lives didn’t depend on her
powers of comprehension.
     Chuck had us all get topless well before the party started.
He didn’t want any red marks from bras showing and he wanted us to
get comfortable with walking around exposed. My pierced nipples
got noticed of course, but in a positive way. “Sneezy” liked the
look and was curious about the pain of the piercing and the
sensations they give when you play with them. Her husband gave her
a pair of 14 gauge gold hoops for her birthday last week and she
ignored the hint so far, wearing them in her ears. Frank had me
wear my smallest barbells in my nipples and a curved barbell in my
clit hood. He was worried that some drunk would grab one.
     All seven of us were there. “Tiny” who was embarrassed
because of her tiny chest had decided to go for it and “Juggs” who
has the biggest pair in the place, but is somewhat past her prime
was not disposed to be the only one of us not to do it. Peer
pressure combined with double time pay and the potential for huge
tips, works even on the more mature of us.
     Chuck noticed that we were joking around with the seven-
dwarfs nicknames and got out the label maker. “Tiny”, “Juggs”,
“CC”, “Pointy”, “Pinky” nicknamed for her pink areolas, “Jiggles”
which is “Sneezy’s” nickname for the night, “Perky” that’s me and
“Dopey” soon had new name badges pinned to our skirts. Dopey
looked down and said “My boobies aren’t dopey.” I consoled her
with “No dear, they are as smart as the rest of you.” That made
her smile. Oh God, I hope I never end up in a hospital where she
gets a nursing job!
     Just before the guests started arriving, Chuck passed out
garters with “Tip’s” embroidered on them. To my surprise, “Dopey”
didn’t put it on her arm.
     The party went pretty smoothly. The dancers pretty much held
the attention of the guests. They got a little grab ass, but
tipped well. The denim skirt Frank had me wear has an elastic
waistband and tends to ride up to my waist if I wear it low on my
hips. Since Frank was the one that brought it to the tailor for
hemming, I expected it to be a set-up. It started out 2 inches
below my pussy height, and ended up well above. Without thinking,
I had adjusted it down 3 times without permission. Frank caught me
twice. I definitely got bigger tips while showing pussy. At the
start, it was just “Dopey” “Tiny”, “CC”, and myself that were
going commando. “Pointy” got more pointy as the evening wore on.
Apparently arousal was taking the place of the cool air and then
some. Somewhere around 1AM she lost her thong. She was smooth
before hand, so I think she was on the fence about it from the
start. Shortly after that, “Jiggles” disappeared and I found her
in the ladies room with “Dopey's” Nair. That just left “Pinky” and
“Juggs” in thongs. Pinky noticed the disparity in tips and used
her break to hit the 24 hour drug store for Nair. BY 3AM “Juggs”
was the only hold-out still in a thong. At 5, when the party was
over “Juggs” was still in her thong.

     Afterwards, all us “Dwarfs” had breakfast together with Frank
and Chuck. Frank and chuck drove, because we all had had a few too
many. Then as soon as the mall opened we went to the
piercing/tattoo place where I got mine done “Jiggles” got her
earrings moved to her nipples. We all went for moral support.
Chuck in a moment of uncharacteristic generosity said “If you all
get it done, I’ll buy jewelry for all of you” That inspired
“Pointy” and “Tiny” to follow suit but only if “CC”, “Pinky” and
“Juggs” went first. “Pinky” revealed that she has had pierced
nipples for years already and this was her first time without
jewelry in them since she had them done. With some encouragement,
“CC” relented, probably assuming that “Juggs” would never give in.
Then, “Juggs” said “What the fuck. I’ll do it!” Chuck bought us
all matching gold barbells. “Jiggles” put hers in her ears. She
wasn’t about to change the rings in her nipples while the piercing
was still fresh and tender. “Tiny” got her barbells longer than
needed and bought herself a pair of nipple shields, joking “These
should double my chest size.”
     It was a blast, but I have to take a nap. My regular shift
starts at noon.

    Aug 3

     I still haven’t received the reward that Frank promised. It
was predicated on me being good and I broke the rules adjusting my
skirt back down at the bachelor party. For the 2 infractions, I
have to wait 2 weeks longer.
     “Pinky” has a wicked crotch rash. She never used Nair before
and is sensitive to it. To make it worse, she used regular Nair,
not the stuff for sensitive areas like her bikini patch.
     Both of “Juggs” nipples are swollen and tender more than is
normal for piercing and she may have to switch to rings or just
take out the barbells. The piercer recommended rings, because they
are easier to keep clean in new piercings, but Chuck was buying
barbells that would be better for wearing at work.


         Aug 18

     I got my reward for being good! Frank had me strip naked and
get out the bondage toys. I ended up in one of my favorite
positions, my ankles locked behind my head and my wrists shackled
under my ass. Frank tied on some extra straps so I couldn’t so
much as wiggle on the mattress. He rubbed some blue stuff from a
tube on my pussy and attached what looked like plastic clothespins
to my labia, one on each side up near my clit. Then he attached a
clip with a wire on it to my clit hood ring. And hooked up wires
from the clothespins to a little box. He wouldn’t tell me what it
was, but he promised I would jet a jolt out of it.
          At first I felt nothing but the pinch of the
clothespins. Then there was a slight tingle. He played with the
settings as he watched my expressions. I was soon squirming with
the sensations. It would throb and then hum and then tingle. If I
got close to orgasm he would back off a bit to drag it out. I was
hoping that he would take me all the way, because if he didn’t I
would be so horny that I would go nuts. It seemed like hours, but
was only about 20 minutes later that I had the most outrageous
ORGASAM that I ever had. Frank kept the current on and even
cranked it up some as I came to be sure not to let me down at the
last second. It seemed like my eyes had rolled back so far that I
was looking at my brain.
          He let the pulse continue for a while just doing a Tic-
Tic- Tic-Tic-Tic-Tic-Tic-… that got me started on my next case of
horny. When he let me loose, I went straight for his dick and
tried to suck the skin off. After I swallowed his load, I asked
him what he wanted me to do now. He told me to shave my head.
Normally, I would have hesitated at that. I had to go to work and
being bald would be noticed. I was still high on the orgasm and
didn’t even hesitate.
          We are going wig shopping after dinner tonight. I’m
going to be blond, brunette and red head.
           Oh, before I forget. Juggs bought a pair of rings and
was able to keep them clean enough to heal properly. Her guy loves
to play with them.

     Sept 14
          Frank got another full-time job yesterday. He’s
bartending at a strip club about an hour away. They pay better
than Chuck can at Cooters. Chucks Part-time guy is stepping up to
full-time and Frank is going to continue on part time. I put on my
ballet heels, most noticeable nipple shields and a skimpy dress
and we went out to dinner to celebrate.

    September 28

          Things have been pretty normal around here for the last
2 weeks. Well, what passes as normal for us.
          Franks new job pays much better so we are putting money
towards paying down the credit cards. With the economy in the
toilet like it is, thinks are only the flick of a wrist away from
being flushed. The less we have on the plastic, the better.
          “Jugg’s” nipples are healed up nicely. Wearing nipple
rings seems to have put her in a kinkier frame of mind. Wearing a
thong to the bachelor party was a stretch for her. Last Wednesday
she bent over the wrong way in the kitchen of “Cooters” and I saw
she wasn’t wearing her usual cotton “Granny’s”, or anything else.
Our most mature and conservative member of the wait staff went
commando on a regular work day. It appears that I continue to be a
“bad influence” on those around me. 
          With Frank away at work most nights, I have been
spending more time on the exercise equipment and practicing my
Carmen Electra stripper workout routine. My legs and Abs never
looked better.

    Oct 16

          Frank had me pole dance and give him a lap dance
yesterday. Today he handed me that tiny thong swimsuit that he had
bought way back in August of last year. It doesn’t seem like it
was that long ago and yet it seems to have been part of another
lifetime. When I asked what I would be doing today, he told me
that I was going to go to work with him tonight. I was to put
minimal sized barbell jewelry in my piercings, make sure I didn’t
have a single excess hair, put on my Lady Godiva wig and find my
long coat. I asked what shoes he wanted me to wear and he just
smiled.
          Since I shave and Nair regularly, it didn’t take long to
get ready. He just handed me a pair of clear Lucite platform heels
with a slot in the side labeled “Tips.” We are heading out the
door in a few minutes. This promises to be a fun night.

    Oct 17

     When we got to the bar, the first thing that Frank did was
tell me to leave the G-string bikini in the car. I was
disappointed. I fully expected to be dancing in little more than a
smile, and stripper shoes. When I got my first look inside, I
realized that Frank was again playing with me. It was a totally
nude strip club! The girls started out dressed, but didn’t stay
that way for long. Frank introduced me to the boss and then sent
me out to watch the show. I felt seriously overdressed even though
I was naked under the coat.
          Frank introduced me to Tiffany told me to enjoy the
experience and started his shift a few minutes later.
     She told me that I would be filling in for her partner and
all I had to do was follow her lead. She took me back into the
dressing room and gave me a black satin cloak, black leather wrist
cuffs and a blindfold. She was wearing a black leather corset with
a riding crop hanging from the side and thigh high boots. I was
immediately aroused. She told me to put them on quickly as we went
on next.
     She led, stumbling, me out onto the stage, backed me up
against the wall and clipped something to my cuffs. Then she had
me spread my legs wide and put metal leg irons on my ankles. I had
never seen her routine and wondered what came next. She hooked
what felt like cables to the wrist cuffs and suddenly my wrists
were pulled up and apart and the cloak fell off my shoulders. One
second I was completely covered by the cloak and the next I was
buck naked in front of about fifty customers that I knew were
there but couldn’t see because of the blindfold. It was arousing
as hell. She told me to squirm as she teased me with the riding
crop. She didn’t need to tell me twice as I was about too anyway.
     Next, she dripped some hot wax on my nipples. I still have no
idea what she was doing. I was just a prop for her act. Then
nothing happened for the next half dozen songs. I felt her release
me and I was lead off stage, still blindfolded.
     What a rip off! I missed my own on stage debut! I was set
decoration for fifteen of my first twenty minutes on stage. I
asked Frank if that’s all I was going to do all night and he told
me that was just one of her routines. Our next foray onto the
stage started out with me in my stripper shoes, the cloak, ankle
and wrist cuffs and a chain between the ankle cuffs that was long
enough to let me dance, but just barely. I shrugged off the cape
after a few seconds on stage. After that, the whole routine was
her, in her dominatrix styled corset giving me, her subbie, exotic
dance lessons with the tip of her riding crop. If I moved even the
slightest bit wrong, I would feel the crop.
     At one point she grabbed me by the hair and I pulled free
leaving her with Lady Godiva in her hand and a surprised look on
her face. She hardly missed a beat, tossing my hair aside and
getting right back to the routine. I was really enjoying myself
and hated getting off stage when the next dancers came out.
     Our third set was minimalistic. I came on stage in nothing
but my shoes and Lady Godiva. She was in shoes with the crop in
her hand. She guided me through a lesbian act that at one point
had me on the bottom of a 69. Without warning, she stopped acting!
It was just for a few seconds, but the touch of her tongue on my
clit jewelry and then on my clit was electrifying. After that she
was back to acting, but I kept expecting more.
     After the set, I asked Frank about it. He asked me what I
thought about it and I told him I felt like I was cheating on him
for enjoying it if even for a moment. He asked me what I would
think if he enjoyed watching me and Tiffany together. I thought
about it for just a second and told him that I would do as my
master told me and take pleasure from his enjoyment. I didn’t tell
Frank, but I would draw the line at sex with a guy. A little girl
on girl action that got Frank off was not over the line, just very
close to it. I asked Frank what he wanted in regards to Tiffany
and he told me that he would tell Tiffany what he wanted. I was to
follow her lead. I replied “As master commands.”
     I had thought that sex on stage was illegal but apparently
simulated sex is OK. Either way, the rules are more lax in the
case of private clubs like this one. Paying an initiation fee
instead of an admission fee makes quite a difference in what one
can get away with on stage.
     Our next time on stage, Tiffany handcuffed my hands behind a
pole and started running her tongue all over me with particular
attention to my nipples. Frank kept glancing our way, but he had
bartending to do.
     Up till then, I hadn’t mingled with the customers. Making
small talk and hustling drinks is part of the job. At the end of
that set, Frank handed me a pair of cut-off jeans that was cut off
to nearly nothing. It just a waistband, zipper fly and crotch
seam. I got to hustle drinks with the rest of the girls. It was a
strange feeling. Flirting, nearly naked, right in front of Frank.
But, like the girl on girl thing, Frank seemed to get off on it so
I didn’t question it. Being somewhat shy, compared to the other
girls, just got me more attention. Frank took me aside and
explained that accepting tips by taking them from guys’ hands
between my tits is just how it’s done.
     My next time on stage was solo. I interacted with the
customers far more and took my tips between the tits. I also found
that some of the customers preferred to put the tips in the tip
slot in the side of my shoes. It gave them a close up look at my
pussy if I stepped over onto the top of the bar and held my foot
up just right.
     There is a lot more to dancing than I thought. Letting
strange guys feel my cleavage when taking tips didn’t take all
that long to get used to. I mentioned it to Frank later that I
felt kind of guilty about letting someone other than him touch me
there and he said that he had OK’d it and that feeling guilty was
not allowed. That’s easy for him to say, but it was somehow
different than the grope box.
     I danced solo for the rest of the night. There were other
girls on stage, but we were all doing our own thing. Other than
short breaks in the dressing room, my time on stage with Tiffany
was the only time I had any real interaction with the other girls
other than staying out of their way. Swinging around a dance pole
takes up considerable stage space. I didn’t stay out of the way
all the time. Catching a wooden soled platform heel, against the
side of the head, hurts.
     Getting off work in the wee hours of the morning is a strange
feeling. Most people are asleep and after the night I had had, I
was aroused sexually and buzzed on caffeine. The last thing that I
wanted to do was to go to bed and sleep. Frank sensed that I was
horny as hell and did his best to make it worse. I had to put my
coat in the trunk and endure the long ride home in the scrap of
denim that passed for cutoff shorts.
     By the time we got home, I wanted sexing a bad way. Frank
wanted me even hornier and had me put on my collar and wrist cuffs
with a chain between them so that I couldn’t even play with
myself. No masturbation without permission was one of Franks
standing rules, so I wouldn’t, but he just shackled me so that I
couldn’t, knowing full well that I would be even hornier by
morning.
     Frank took off the restraints first thing this morning, but
as soon as I was out of the shower had me put on my ballet heels,
my most uncomfortable nipple shields and the little marble sized
vibrator that he had modified to screw onto the end of the curved
bar that I had in my clit hood piercing.
     I’ll have to go back and fix my spelling and grammar here
because I’m way too distracted to get it right the first or second
time.
     All in all, I had fun last night. I think that Frank was
pleased with me as well. He’s not talking about it, so I figure
he’s up to something.

    Oct 21
     It’s been 4 days without an orgasm. Normally, that’s nothing
for me. This time, after a night dancing, it feels more like 4
months. Frank let me suckle on his dick, but that is not very
satisfying and I’m getting jumpy.
     Working at “Cooters”, even in the skimpy outfit we wear, just
doesn’t feel sexy anymore.
     I’m going to dance again tonight. Frank’s boss thinks I have
potential and Frank seems to really get off on it. I think I’m
going to be dancing regularly from now on.
     Frank wants me to wear my tip shoes and a chastity belt this
time. I’ll have to unlock when I get on stage and lock back up
between sets. I expect that the customers will find that arousing.
I certainly do!

    Oct 22

     The chastity belt worked out OK. Frank would unlock me at the
start of each set and I’d lock up before mingling with the
customers. I was solo all night so I was free to improvise as I
liked. Some of the girls strip off a different costume for each
set, but most are in and out, mostly out, of the same outfit all
night. I’d like to try multiple outfits tonight.
     Frank posted a new version of the rules on the refrigerator.

     No leg hair, underarm hair, ass crack hair or pussy hair
unless specified.
     No underwear of any kind except garter belts and stockings
except as needed on a monthly basis and only as long as it is
absolutely needed.
     No slacks, jeans, shorts, thongs or g-strings (worn as
outerwear) or anything else covering the pubic area will be worn
without permission, unless worn with 6-inch or higher heels and
nipple shields while topless.
     No skirts or dresses longer than 8 inches above the knee
without permission.
     Buttons or zippers will not be used above nipple height
without permission.
     No shoes other than 5 inch or higher heels without
permission.
     No back talking.
     No masturbating.
     No spitting during or after a Blow Job. It will be swallowed.
     Piercing jewelry will be worn at all times unless specified
otherwise.

    Work rules
    6-inch or higher heels will be worn at all times.
     Nothing but shoes, jewelry and minimal props, such as bondage
paraphernalia, will be worn on stage for more than 5 minutes at a
time, once per set.
     Nothing but jewelry will be worn off stage above the waist.
      A skirt must be worn when offstage for more than 3 minutes
unless something else is specified.
     Tips will be accepted between the breasts, in a garter or in
the slot of a tip shoe.
     Only minimal momentary customer initiated physical contact
with customers is permitted.
     Close physical contact with other dancers is permitted.



     Violation of any rules will be subject to whatever punishment
comes to mind and will not necessarily be in proportion to the
degree of the violation.


     It looks like my skirts just got an inch shorter. The
piercing jewelry rule is relaxed so I don’t have to wear a clit
ring on stage. I guess Frank is worried that some jerk might grab
it. The slacks and jeans rule is expanded to cover anything that
covers my pussy.
     The work rules are nice. It’s clear the Frank wants me naked
or nearly naked most of the time. If a customer puts his hand on
my knee, I’ll remove it gently but firmly. I’m going to feel more
vulnerable when mingling in just a skirt tonight. A thong or those
cutoffs don’t cover much, but somehow make me feel less
vulnerable. At least I have some guidelines to spell out some
limits now which is nice. It would have been handy dealing with
Tiffany. Still “close” is a bit vague. Was Tiffany’s tongue on my
clit “close” or “intimate”?

    Oct 23

     I’m really getting into dancing. Having fifty horny guys
leering at me and occasionally going to the can to jerk off is not
all that bad and the plus side, all the attention, actually feels
good. Frank let me pick out my outfits for last night. I chose a
few of my shorter skirts and Frank Ok’d short tube dress that I
wore as a long skirt at work and a short dress in the car. I also
brought along several pair of shoes. The tip slot shoes are
actually a good choice. The clear plastic goes with everything.
The ballet heels were the least practical and were painful by the
end of the night, but generated the most tips. A pair of white
knee high boots with a sturdy heel and 2 inch thick sole and a
band of white fur at ankle height actually seemed to be the best
compromise between comfort and tips. I tried climbing the pole and
sliding back down only once, friction burn!

    October 24

     I danced 1 set with Tiffany again last night. Frank was on
break and was watching us when she went for “Close” contact. I let
her, glancing at Frank. He had a hard-on so I responded in kind
and we got in some serious tonguing. It was my first lesbian
experience and really wasn’t all that great. I mean that she is
physically much better than a vibrator. But, without an emotional
connection, emotionally no better than the energizer bunny. I
think the best part of it was knowing that Frank was getting off
watching us.

    October 25

     Frank and I worked at “Cooters” last night. Wearing even the
bandanna for a top seems overdressed. We have 3 more nights at
“Cooters” before working at the club.

    Nov 1

     The Halloween party at the club was nice. My costume was
reddish brown shoes, fox ears and a butt plug with a fox tail
attached to it. I felt both sexy and constipated.
     Frank has not allowed me an orgasm since I started dancing at
the club. It’s been 2 weeks and it feels like 2 years. The club is
a sexually charged environment and I’ve been getting overcharged.
I hope Frank has a major orgasm planned for me. I’d be
disappointed if I have to wait too long for a little one.
     I didn’t sleep well at all and some idiot was running heavy
equipment at 8 am this morning. Frank is still in the sack and
after a 3 aspirins and a cup of coffee, I’m going to join him. At
least we have a few days off in a row.

    Nov 6

     Monday, the 2nd, was hell. Frank and I both got the fucking
flu and the noise Sunday morning was the POD’s guy dropping off a
Pod’s container next to the garage. I didn’t think that they
worked on Sundays. A phone call verified that it was supposed to
be delivered to us. Later in the day, my sister showed up. That’s
why I’m sure it was hell, because the devil was on my doorstep. I
was caught off guard and invited her in. It was a big mistake.
Most evil entities like vampires and such can’t come in unless
invited and I opened my big mouth.
     I told her that Frank was sick in bed and that I was going
back to bed as soon as I made some soup, in hopes that she would
take the hint and leave. Her reply came as a shock.
     “No silly. I’m not here to visit my favorite sister. I’m here
to start work.”
     My expression must have said “WTF are you talking about?”
     She opened up her fur coat, the one that our grandmother
promised to me, and said “I’m your new live-in French maid!”
     I took one look at the skimpy French maid costume and said “I
thought you wouldn’t wear that sort of thing. That’s why Frank
changed his mind and it’s a live-in nude maid position.”
     Her look was priceless. “You guys were serious about that!”
     I just said “Yup. Goodbye.” For a second I thought that I
would finally have the last word where my sister was concerned.
      She said “What kind of sister would I be to leave you two
here sick.” Then she hung up her coat in the hall closet, stripped
to her shoes and put the maid costume on a hanger next to the
coat. “Get back to bed. I’ll be up with the soup in a few
minutes.”
     I went back to bed and Frank asked me who was at the door. I
told him and all he said was “Christ.”
      I replied “Wrong. She’s getting the soup.”
     “You mean that she’s doing something nice for a change?”
     “No. She’s doing her job.”
     “What job?”
     “Live-in maid. That’s what job.”
     “Christ!”
     “Who do you think sent the POD’s container? She plans to
stay.”
     “Christ!”
     It actually worked out OK. Sharon came up with the soup
wearing nothing but black pumps and the too-small-to-be-useful
frilly apron from the maid costume. Guys have a hard time being
mean to a tall bare-breasted woman with a shaved beaver. Frank
laid out the house rules and Sharon agreed. I don’t think she had
much choice. Mom can’t stand being in the same room with her for
more than a few hours and the retirement home doesn’t allow long
term visitors. It was us or the women’s shelter.
     Sharon has done the cooking, cleaning and even went to the
pharmacy for our Tamiflu. She has adapted to her new position far
too readily. Tuesday she came upstairs wearing red pumps, a hat
from a fantasy nurse costume and a stethoscope. Something is just
not right here. It never is where my sister is concerned.
     She has managed to move in almost completely without any
help. Our mini exercise room, formerly the den, has been cleared
out. The equipment is back in the basement. Her plasma TV is hung
on the wall and her computer is hooked up. The furniture is
nothing but a brass frame bed and a night table. She has her
shoes,7 pair of heels, all lined up along the far wall and her
limited wardrobe, the French maid costume and a thick cotton terry
bathrobe hung upon coat hooks on the wall. I can’t figure out if
she is far worse off that we think or up to something.
     On the bright side, she is a good cook and is obsessive-
compulsive about cleaning. There is no conflict with our somewhat
off-beat lifestyle either. She found the rules on the refrigerator
and only commented that she won’t be doing as much laundry as she
expected. She seems to have no problems being nude or seeing us
nude. I’m somewhat inhibited in her presence though. It just
doesn’t seem right to suck Franks cock in front of “the staff”.

     January 19, 2010
     Because things have been so strange with Sharon here as our
maid/cook, I have been lax about keeping this diary up to date, so
I’ll have to get caught up now. Sharon has been wonderful as a
maid and cook. The only time she got dressed, in anything other
than the French Maid costume, since she moved in is when we went
to visit Mom over the holidays. Even the bathrobe is in the POD
since she put her clothes back in there after Christmas. She only
puts on the costume to answer the door. It’s longer than the one
Frank got for me but she sort of hides behind the door most of the
time. I think she has a thing for the Fed Ex guy. When he is at
the door she doesn’t hide at all and he can’t hide the bulge in
his pants.
     I still can’t get over the feeling that Sharon is up to
something underhanded.
     We are still splitting our work hours between “Cooters” and
the club.
     Tiffany and I have been doing a duet on stage about 6 times a
week and I’m learning to relax and enjoy it. I’ve even been giving
back as I’m getting. Once we almost forgot we were supposed to be
entertaining the customers. It’s fun, but I haven’t had a orgasm
with Tiffany. I need the emotional connection and a dick in me,
preferably both.
     We had another after-hours bachelor party at “Cooters” in
December. That time all of us gals went topless and cleanly shaved
commando. Even “Dopey” got with the program without confusion.
     With all the hours we work, we haven’t gotten out much. I
can’t even go to the grocery store. I back talked Frank just after
New Year’s and I’m now under a no clothes, no orgasm restriction
till further notice. I get to wear a warm coat too and from work
at the club and the tiny skirt while at work and my skirt and
bandana uniform at “Cooters”, but the rest of the time I’m
barefoot and naked. I can’t even provoke a spanking by putting the
toilet paper on the roll upside down! That’s Sharon’s job now. She
screwed up the toilet paper last week and got spanked. She seemed
to enjoy it immensely. I’m a bit pissed off. That should have been
my spanking.

    March 19

     Frank finally un-grounded me last night. He had me secure my
ankles behind my head on the bed, than proceeded to give my fifty.
My buttocks were getting red and my pussy seriously wet when he
finally fucked me. It was a great way to break a 2-month dry
spell.
     Not much else has changed. Sharon is still our nude maid and
has really settled into the part. In fact she seems to be getting
deeper into it with time. Now she’s taken to wearing seriously
high platform shoes all the time and her “wardrobe” consists of
several tiny lace aprons that don’t cover much of anything and a
few French maid style “hats.” Sharon’s French maid dress is still
in the front closet so she can answer the door, but sometimes she
doesn’t bother with it, either hiding behind the door or just
standing there naked in front of the UPS guy. She puts the dress
on for Fed Ex, we have a female driver. I have gotten over my
shyness in front of the “staff” and have no problem getting sexual
with Frank even when Sharon is in the room. Frank never had a
problem with me giving him a BJ in front of Sharon, but I never
initiated sex play with her in the room till recently.
     The boss had the idea of nude wrestling at the club and of
course Frank volunteered me. Being the smallest dancer there lead
to the almost inevitable conclusion. I lost every match the first
night and June, who works out endlessly, won all hers. She won the
silver strap-on and got to try it out on me. It wasn’t all that
unpleasant. We are both hetero and it was just a show anyway. My
third night losing was different though. Tiffany won and I was on
the receiving end of a lesbian driven strap-on. Knowing how much
she was enjoying it bothered me, perhaps because I was enjoying it
a little myself. I asked Frank for some tips on how to win, or at
least how not to loose and he said “Next time you are on the
receiving end of the strap-on, you get no orgasams for 6 months.”
Well I haven’t won yet, but I haven’t lost since.
     The strangest part of my whole life is that this is all so
normal feeling. It’s like every couple works at a strip club part
time and a country bar part time and all wives are totally
subservient to their husbands sexually and in most other ways.
     About the only thing that has seemed weird was that one time
last week I was giving Frank a BJ on stage before the club opened
and some of the dancers walked in on us and that wasn’t weird till
I finished and they applauded!

    April 10

     There was   another bachelors party at Cooters and this time
all of us went   topless and commando from the start and everyone’s
skirt was “Too   Short.”
     Frank had   me use the vibrator barbell jewelry in my clit hood
piercing and I   was distracted half the night. It took hours for
the battery to   run down.

    January 11 2011

     A lot has happened since I last made an entry in this diary.
My sister moved out. We got home from work one day and found we no
longer had a maid. He room was empty and the POD was gone. We had
no warning she was leaving and she left no note. It was kind of
weird. All trace of her just vanished. Even her cell phone is
disconnected.
     Frank has been taking me to BDSM play parties fairly
regularly. It turns out that, in addition to enjoying a good
spanking, whipping or caning, I’m quite the electro slut. Tie me
to a ST Andrews cross and work me over with a violet wand, little
devil or even a cattle prod and I’m in heaven.
     With all the hours working out that Frank is “forcing” me to
do, I’m getting pretty strong. I finally out-wrestled Tiffany.
Winning the silver strap-on trophy and getting to use it on
Tiffany’s ass was great! It was my first win and her first time
coming in last. Listening to her moan as I used the strap-on
really turned me on. It was partly the feeling of power, but it
was also very sexual. I mentioned it to Frank and he just smirked
and told me that my sexual orientation was whatever he decided it
would be and he decreed that I was now Bi-sexual and should enjoy
using the strap-on and any other lesbian situation I should find
myself in. Tiffany overheard and went to Frank later about teaming
up with me on stage for a new routine. This should be interesting
considering my new bi-sexual status.
     “Dopey” from “Cooters” is now working at the club dancing
nude. Even stupid women can make a good living if they can dance
and have a nice rack.
     Frank posted yet another revised set of the rules on the
refrigerator.

     No leg hair, underarm hair, ass crack hair or pussy hair
unless specified.
     No underwear of any kind except garter belts and stockings
except as needed on a monthly basis and only as long as it is
absolutely needed.
     No slacks, jeans, shorts, thongs or g-strings (worn as
outerwear) or anything else covering the pubic area will be worn
without permission, unless worn with 6-inch or higher heels and
nipple shields while topless.
     No skirts or dresses longer than 8 inches above the knee
without permission.
     Buttons or zippers will not be used above the lowest part of
the breast without permission.
     No shoes other than 5 inch or higher heels without
permission.
     No back talking.
     No masturbating.
     No orgasms without permission.
     No spitting during or after a Blow Job. It will be swallowed.
     Piercing jewelry will be worn at all times unless specified
otherwise.

     Work rules
     6-inch or higher heels will be worn at all times.
     Nothing but shoes, jewelry and minimal props, such as bondage
paraphernalia, will be worn on stage for more than 5 minutes at a
time, once per set.
     Nothing but jewelry will be worn off stage above the waist.
      A skirt, crotch length or shorter, must be worn when
offstage for more than 3 minutes unless something else is
specified.
     Tips will be accepted any way the customer offers them except
vaginally.
     Only minimal momentary customer initiated physical contact
with customers is permitted.
     Close physical contact with other dancers is encouraged.

				
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