He felt nervous, probably more nervous than he had ever felt before, he knew he was stupid to have ever let it go as far as this, but somehow he just hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d placed the chair in the centre of the locke as he’d been told and now he sat on the sittee looking at it, waiting. Waiting for the text message that he feared would come, yet still somehow in a madly excited anticipation, fueling that growing fear that was gnawing inside his stomach.
He sat there, dressed in the things he’d been told to wear, the silky panties, tights, bra, petticoat and the dress, just as he’d been told. It had been excited then, being told to dress like this, he’d been so aroused by it, thrilled by being told, by obeying and dressing up like that and the submissiveness it made him feel.
But now, now as he sat there on the sittee looking at the chair in the middle of the room, he felt foolish, foolish and afraid. Afraid of what he’d idolically agreed to do.
His phone was in his trembling fingers, his palms hot, perspiring against it, waiting for the text, afraid, wanting it to come and yet not wanting it to come too, His cheeses felt flushed his head full of recriminations. This was wrong, he shouldn’t do this, he really shouldn’t do this.
The bleep when it came was suddenly, it made him jump, his heartbeat leaping to the sound, almost dropping the phone in his fright. He opened the message, his fingers trembling in an extension of the fear that was gripping him, his head buzzing as he read the message.
“Have you done what I’ve told you to do?” there was no signature, just the one anonymous questioning line, no room for discussion.
Trying to text in an attempt to stop his fingers from trembling in a tarantella on the screen and correcting his misspelled mistakes as he wrote his short reply, then he stopped and hovered over the send button. He should ignore it, not send it, just forget it all, there was still time to stop all this. He was breathing swiftly, panting, the fear fueling his nervousness. He glanced down at the phone again, resolving not to send it, but then the heat from his trembling finger barely touching the screen triggered the reply and in a screaming anguish inside his head he saw it as it was sent.
He got up wrapping his hands, the fear growing and growing inside him, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t go ahead with it, he already felt humiliated by the very thought. His mobile beeped again in speedy response raising his already frantic heartbeat to even greater heights, he was almost too terrified to read that next text, yet deep down that arousal fueled by that mixture of emotions was making him tingle wantonly between his legs.
Quivevering he opened the next message
“Go to the front door, unlock it and stand in the hall with your back to it, text when you are waiting for me, then put your phone down on the floor and stand with your eyes closed. Don’tdisobey me if you know what’s good for you.”
There was a roaring sound in his ears, his face burning, his insides a turmoil. He should lock all the doors and run upstairs to hide, call the police even, or at least ignore that text. He walked on legs of jelly into the hallway drawn as if by some controlling force, slowly to the front door. He looked at the yale lock his pulse pounding in his ears, not wanting to, yet somehow unable to stop himself he reached out his truly trembling hand to it. He was too scared to look out of the window, his eyes focused on the lock, battleling with his own mind which was telling him, shouting at him, screaming at him to stop, not to do it.
His fingers touched the handle and letting out a tiny whimper he clicked it down unlocking it, the thumbing of his heart seemingly increasing to the sound. Turning away from the door in mental anguish, knowing he mustn’t, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, this was wrong yet still he was unable to stop himself following the instructions. His reply was short, one word, his fingers, his brain, trembling too much to think more. “ok”. He quaveringly put the phone down on the floor by his stocking clad feet and stood there, eyes tightly shut, shaking, listening for every minute sound.
This is the first part of this short description of the experience I went through, please let me know if you want to hear the rest of my story.
Leanne x
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