Freed to Do as I was Told

I had particular places that I liked to go when alone. One was in a group of rocks overlooking the sea, another was in a copse on the edge of the corn fields when it was almost ready to be harvested. It was spring weekend, a weeks before the school summer holidays and I needed to chill. The one I made my way to that day was deep in the woods where a small clearing of grass and moss was dappled by sunlight and was always intensely quiet.

After I turned off the path through the woods, just before I stepped through the closely growing trees into the sunlight, I saw a man laying in my place! I stood staring at him. 'Why was he there?' 'Why was he in my private place?' I was irritated to say the least but then I began looking at him properly. He was at least 15 years older than me, hair going grey, laying on his stomach with his face toward me, his eyes closed. 'Was he asleep?' He was half naked, his shirt lay next to him and he had no real excess weight. I realised as I spied on him that, even though he was older and I didn't know him, I felt an attraction, perhaps a lust for him. He suddenly opened his eyes and they held mine before I managed to stumble back to the path.

Silly as it may sound it took me a considerable amount of courage to venture to my place in the woods again a few days later. The small clearing was empty. I sat as I usually did with my back against a log and my legs out before me on the grass. I was tempted to touch myself as I normally did here. I took my jeans off and checked around again. I realised I was really horny and my knickers were soaked but I didn't feel relaxed. The clouds were blocking the sun and nothing seemed quite right right. Frustrated, I dressed again and walked away, and home.

I returned to my clearing again the next weekend. No one was there. The grass was slightly flattened I noticed but that was all. The sun was out and I must have fallen asleep. Strangely that happened quite a few times on my subsequent visits too, falling asleep, waking very refreshed and a little light headed. Very pleasant but worrying that I needed so much sleep.

About a month later I was out with a group of friends. We had been drinking and were being a little noisy in a restaurant. We had left our husbands behind and were letting our hair down. As I was laughing I felt someones eyes on me. I ignored the feeling at first realising I'd had a few glasses of wine, but eventually turned and scanned the room. I couldn't see any eyes on me any more and I was about to resume my conversation when I saw the man from the woods. He was on his own at a table, with a book open in front of him. He looked up, I looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught again and though I felt myself blushing talked quickly and almost incoherently to Andrea, my friend. A little later I was aware of him paying his bill and watched as he left the restaurant.

When I asked my friends who that man was they all looked at me as though I was mad and most of them hadn't noticed him. The ones who had had no idea as to who it was. In spite of the alcohol I couldn't sleep that night. My husband snored peacefully beside me and was oblivious to anyone else, as usual, but my mind kept returning to this stranger, my stranger.

At around the same time I began to look at porn again. I didn't know why I looked again, probably frustration with Charles being away with work so often again.

I remember I was aroused by the idea of exhibitionism and looked at what I could find. I looked at videos, pictures and stories.

It was disappointing initially as I found a lot about women or girls dressing very provocatively or going out and flashing but they all looked like they were doing it for themselves and were in control of everything. If I had wanted that it would have been easy to do, relatively. Men were always watching and hoping. Of course I actually didn't do it. There were social barriers and it would create problems at work and with friends and neighbours if I overstepped the boundaries of the acceptable and was caught.

However, I realised that wasn't quite what I wanted. I liked the idea of someone else exhibiting me! I began to realise that the control aspect was the key. It was the idea of being told to show my body or parts of it, or not having the choice, being in a position where I must. There weren't many videos that fit the bill, slightly more pictures though more stories. Many, though not all the videos looked a bit over the top with plastic looking dungeons and things. I wanted something a little more realistic, true to life. I understood that the feeling of charged sexual humiliation must be difficult to capture but there were a few and my masturbation sessions had increased out of all proportion. It was quite embarrassing really, I was worse than when I was a teenager. I even masturbated secretly when Charles was here.

I realised that, though I was quite assertive in my life generally, sexually I became aroused at the idea of being submissive, of accepting what others wanted of me, my body. Although my husband, the position itself leant him some authority, Charles, as rich and successful as he was, he wasn't really the dominant type. I thought he might be, I was very much a trophy wife in his eyes but the furthest it went was to show me off, demurely clothed, at cocktail parties.

There was no one else I could trust to talk about it with, let alone give over control to. So I continued with my increasingly secret steamy sessions on my own. Or I thought they were secret. In front of the computer I often now stripped naked and fingered myself to orgasm after orgasm until I was too sore to carry on. I would get very horny thinking of it, far wetter than I expected, with my nipples aching and hard, and once I had become aroused I needed to orgasm desperately. I even found it didn't make any difference if the dominant in my imagination was another woman. It turned me on regardless.

A few days later Andrea, my friend, called me on my mobile. We talked about things that had come up on the evening we were out for a long time, and about a new online store with wonderful skirts. Then,

"Oh by the way, I think I have found out who your stranger is", she said laughing.

"Who do you mean?" I tried to bluff, desperate to find out. She laughed knowingly, smugly even.

"Its alright," another laugh, "you don't need to pretend with me."

"Who is he then?"

"Well, I don't know his name but I think he must be the psychologist professor who has moved into to one of the houses backing onto yours."

I ran upstairs and looked out of the windows at the back of the house. There were two houses there, half hidden by trees. I had never known the people living there, never gave it much thought. There wasn't any movement in either of them, nor any signs of life, no washing hanging out, no dog barking from a yard. I stood there for almost half an hour, watching and letting my mind shut down as I stood.

The next morning there was a bit of a noise at the back of the garden, out of sight behind the trees. I wandered out to look and found a couple of workmen putting up a new back fence. For the man in the house behind us. The man from the clearing! I had no idea why he should want a new fence but the men were friendly and well mannered and I made them a cup of tea. Later, when collecting their mugs I found that a gate had been introduced along the fence. One hadn't been there before, it had simply been a wooden fence. Now it was a wooden fence with a wooden gate. It seemed like a reasonable idea.

I saw the man from the clearing a few more times after that, the longest time in the library, where he was obviously researching something. I watched him secretly for some time before leaving. Another time I met him in the bakers when I entered before I saw him standing in the queue. He nodded at me, in a kind of greeting. I blushed, not knowing what to do. He smiled and I tried to smile back before he paid for his purchases and left. I felt so silly. I should have spoken.

In the clearing I opened my eyes just a little. The light through the leaves strobed across my eyes. I couldn't see clearly. I felt a fly land on my body, it crawled up my stomach then flew away. I somehow knew my clothes were neatly piled next to me but my eyes stayed on the leaves. My body was hot. It seemed to pulse. I let my knees fall apart, very aware of the feeling of my lips peeling slowly apart. I could feel the hardness of my nipples throbbing. I spread myself wider, thrusting my hips up as an offering. I was so in need. A silhouette moved across the leaves. I closed my eyes lazily. When I awoke again I felt so rested though my bra felt a size too small and as I sat up and my knickers tightened I realised they were wet. I felt myself blushing but stood and stretched leisurely and walked back.

About a week later I came home from shopping. The man from the clearing talking to Charles, my husband, in the lounge. I couldn't believe this man was in my house. He was sitting in my lounge wearing jeans and a polo top, arms brown, hair nicely greying. He looked calm, in control. I dropped my eyes.

"Oh there you are Emily." said Charles, "I have found just the right man to sort out your problem."

"My problem?" I looked up at him.

"Well, you do seem to be looking at porn a lot these days. Your browsing history is quite something. You could have wiped it clean."

I froze. My face on fire. I didn't understand. I felt in shock. I couldn't even deny it. Where had this come from? I looked at the floor. There was a stranger in the room hearing this. My breathing was difficult, my face so hot.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. I have found someone to take control of you, it will be especially useful when I am away."

"Take control of me?" I felt my pussy pulse when he said that. My mouth hung open.

"Yes, that's what you have been fantasising about isn't it? Someone who makes you do the things you secretly want to, someone who you can obey."

I couldn't cope. I just stared and I found my blushing face nodding, not even vaguely putting up a fight. The situation had spun out of my control the moment I walked in the house. I couldn't grasp what had happened.

"Anyhow, this is Stephen. He has kindly offered to take over the responsibility for your sex. Not that we are divorcing or anything like that. But he will give you what you need and it benefits me too."

I finally looked at the man from the clearing, Stephen. I blushed deeper and my eyes only managed to keep on his grey ones for a moment.

"Hello Emily. Deep inside yourself you knew this would happen, didn't you?" A soft deep voice. It reminded me of dark velvet for some reason.

"Yes Sir." Where did the 'sir' come from? But I had actually thought about this. With him in control. Fantasy. I'd fingered myself thinking of it, cum thinking of it. Twice a day lately. My needs had grown. I'd wanted it. How the hell did he know? My breathing had quickened, I could feel my breasts rising and falling dramatically.

"You been thinking of being able to give over control a lot, haven't you?"

"Yes Sir." What was happening? Why was I admitting all this? Why were my nipples aching?

"There are many areas in your life that you have lots of control. You know that don't you?"

"Yes Sir." I was trembling, my eyes firmly on the floor.

"Work, for example. We are all happy with your own control there, in the classroom." I was a strong woman there. I didn't want things to change there. I didn't want to lose myself totally if I had to surrender control, he was right. "No one is expecting to take control in those areas. But in others you want to feel someone else's control, don't you? You know which areas, don't you? Tell me. What areas?"

" I... er...well, errrr... I don't... sexual things Sir." My mouth simply opened and admitted it to this man! This was so humiliating. My husband sat smiling and listening to me as I spoke, unable to control my admissions, as I told a stranger of my dirty needs. Why was I responding like this? Why was I so horny?

"You want someone to control your sex life? Where, how, when. Fucking, fingering, displaying your body, every last item that is sexual? Deciding for you, you needing permission. Not having to think or decide. Is that what you want?"

"Yes. Yes." My lowered face was burning. Dirty words. I didn't know why I was being so open to him, telling him my secrets I'd never spoken of before. I didn't know why I was talking of these things in front of both of them. I felt so shamed. I was also aware I was very hot. I couldn't believe how my pussy ached.

"Do you want to give me that control, Emily?"

"But... what about my..." I glanced at Charles.

"Its alright. He likes to watch, he wants to watch. Don't you Charles?" My husband nodded, grinning. "He'll be your husband for the world to see, I'll be your owner. I will let him watch you, watch me with you. He'll like that, and so will you, wont you?"

I nodded, my mouth dry. Then spoke. "Yes." What would he watch? What would I be doing? Oh god.

"You'll still be responsible for all the domestic duties with him. He'll look and touch, and you can touch him of course, but anything further... like now, I will decide. His cock is not to enter you anywhere. I will own you sexually Emily."

"Own me?" I whispered, rolling the rich words around in my mind. Not wanting to understand, not believing that I did.

"Yes. I will be in control of you sexually Emily. Tell me now what you want, Emily."

"I want... you to... take... take control Sir." Relief washed through me for some reason. I felt light headed, slightly dizzy.

He stood, walked over to me. His hand smoothed over my cheek, his fingers played over my face. I closed my eyes. His thumb ran over my lips, my mouth opened to him. His thumb slid inside, against my gums and teeth, then into the cavity of my mouth. Like a dummy, like a cock. I suckled on him. It felt... natural. I somehow felt compelled to do whatever he wanted. It was like I was in a trance. His voice in my ear.

"There are a lot of things that can be called sexual, you realise. Sucking my thumb for instance. What you wear, what you don't wear. Now lets start by you taking your clothes off."

His voice was quietly commanding, so sure of itself. I felt like I was no longer an adult in the room. I felt like I was 10 years old again. With only a little hesitation, I slowly began to unbutton my blouse, carefully, not quickly. I wanted to hide myself behind a burlesque strip but I knew that would be wrong somehow. Strangely, unlike my normal bedroom undressing, I folded the blouse carefully and laid it on the coffee table. Then my bra and skirt. Folding each as my breasts swung before them. It was so humiliating doing what I was doing. I half wanted to stop. But I didn't and, humiliatingly, I also knew I was getting a thrill out of exposing myself to them, and my pussy was responding, throbbing, getting wetter. It was exciting but very embarrassing.

I stepped out of my knickers. After the porn and the dreams I had been having lately, my knickers were not the comfortable boring type, now they were always the type I used to wear for hot dates. They were tight too, maybe a little too small so they dug into my lips. He took them from me and as I passed them over they felt embarrassingly damp. His hand was large and the material disappeared into it. My nipples were painfully erect, the cool air on them outside my bra. No not the temperature, my arousal. He told me to keep my shoes on.

I stood for the first time completely naked in the presence of a stranger. It seemed really strange being naked with someone else, especially with Charles watching. I wanted to cover myself but didn't, somehow knowing it wasn't allowed as their eyes devoured me. I found myself wanting to look good for them, have them like my body, my naked body. I wanted them to be aroused by it. It was impossible not to understand my place here, standing naked in front of two clothed men, yet all I wanted was to be this naked female body, their naked female body. The only one naked. When told I parted my legs, put my hands behind me, straightened my back, somehow knowing what was expected, wanting their approval. It was humiliating, like it had been in the dreams, shameful, being forced to do things good girls would never dream of doing. But, also shamefully, I knew I wasn't a normal good girl. Certainly not now. I was a dirty little slut. My throbbing clit told me that.

"Open your legs further." I almost groaned out loud but I edged them apart until he nodded. "You have been good up to now. You've obeyed everything very well. You want to be a good little submissive girl don't you?"

"Yes Sir." And I knew I did.

"A good little submissive quickly learns how to obey, learns quickly how to serve, and, of course, you are becoming a good little submissive for me. Perhaps you have been learning all your life, just waiting for me to own you sexually."

My mouth was dry. It sounded right. It felt like I had been waiting for him to take control. I knew that he was showing me what to do from now on, what was expected of his submissive, training me. It was easy to just do as I was told, give in, but I knew I was being so naughty, couldn't stop myself feeling the humiliation of it all. Hadn't I been reading about this sort of stuff? Overwhelmed by both desire and humiliation, I felt happy giving up power to him, feeling little loss, in fact it felt really good, but knowing it was bad.

"Now finger your cunt. You can feel your tits while you do it. Show us what you have been doing."

What! Oh my god. But my hand had already left my back. I could feel it on my mound. He couldn't expect me to, surely. He did. I would have to. The shame. But I was already naked for them, already spreading my legs. They could see what I was. My fingers showed them I so wet. I was actually leaking and I could smell myself. Dirty slut. I bent my knees, squeezed my breast. No, not breast and pussy, not now, tits and cunt now. Thats what he had said.

I was facing Charles whose eyes were wide. I bent my legs a little, slid them apart more. It was so demeaning but even that was also strangely arousing, very arousing, I wanted them to see, wanted to cum for them. I could smell myself, hear my fingers squelching loudly at my cunt. My fingers were squeezing my nipples harshly on my tits. My feet couldn't keep still on the floor, I was wobbling as my hips bucked. A hand on my arm, led me to the wall.

"Lean against it."

My mind wouldn't work at first. The wall was cool against my shoulders. I thrust my hips out, spread, offering them my body. I was nearly there so quickly. It was strangely exciting doing it in front of people, so naughty. I had never been so aroused. I felt such a slut. My fingers raked my clit and I was jerking and noises were coming from my mouth.

"Stop."

"What... oh what...?"

"Do not cum. Stop now."

I stopped. I don't know how but I stopped. Whimpers came from my mouth. My hips continuing to jerk and open and close slightly. My ass was clenching. I was right on the edge, desperate.

"You have given me control, haven't you?"

"Uhhh. Yes. Yes Sir."

"So it is me that decides if you are allowed to orgasm, if you aren't."

"Yes Sir." My body was shaking. My eyes were wet.

"You are never to orgasm without permission. It's not your own cunt anymore. We made that clear. You belong to me now. Your body, including your cunt, is really mine now. The decision to allow you release is mine, not yours. You may touch yourself, play with yourself but never to orgasm." Oh God, how could I give in like this? But the idea of his control was so intoxicating, was almost like my fingers on my clit.

My eyes were wide. I just knew. I was desperate. But he said he owned me, owned my pleasure. I wanted him to let me. My hands were on each side of my hips as they continued to jerk up and down, my wet thighs well apart now and my pussy lips bloated and open for them to see. The very idea of them looking at me was so arousing too, making me scared I would cum when I wasn't allowed. Pleasure was flooding me. The pleasure he was allowing me. To the side I noticed Charles had his cock out. I wanted cock. I needed cock. I couldn't remember him getting it out. It was hard and he was rubbing it as he looked between my legs. I opened them further. I knew I should. I was whimpering with desire, with need, with the frustration of being denied.