My Obedient Streak Pt. 01

My Obedient Streak: Stacey Starts at The Bottom

Part 1. Stacey's Home Brew

It wasn't like I hadn't known all week that I was acting up. Even as my husband Ed reacted stoically to my delays getting out of the house or dinners, taking forever to dress and make myself up, or making him wait while I shopped, or, worst of all, getting into little disagreements with him, I knew I was accumulating points with him that I'd have to work off on the weekend.

Now, Saturday, late afternoon, I heard the words I knew would come, and a flutter went through my belly.

"Stacey," he intoned almost matter of factly, "I do believe we need to stay in tonight and work on your attitude, don't we little lady?"

The flutter in my belly mixed with fear and remorse, and tears almost sprang to my eyes, as I mildly pleaded, "Oh no, Ed, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you mad, I..." my voice trailed off with a whimper as Ed stared at me sternly and responded, "Young lady, you know it's not a matter of me being mad. Oh no, I'm not at all mad at you. But I'm also not going to neglect your behavior and not meet out the discipline you've earned."

The blood rushed to my ears and I barely could make out the words I knew would come, making me tremble and thrill at the same time.

"Stacey, go upstairs and change into something appropriate for spending a nice, long evening being punished. I want you in my study in half an hour, and given that you'll be spending a Saturday night atoning for your behavior, I think something white and lacey and fancy is in order. Now, go, get yourself ready!"

My head spun as I slowly climbed the stairs toward our bedroom. I'd been expecting this, excited by it deep down, but now I was scared and nervous. Downstairs, I could hear Ed on the phone. He was laughing, contentedly. Maybe he isn't in such a bad mood, maybe I won't get punished a lot, I thought to myself.

Upstairs I opened my closet. He'd said half an hour. If he'd wanted me to downstairs as quickly as possible he would have said that, so I knew he expected me to doll myself up for him. I opened my lingerie drawer. Even since being with Ed, I've accumulated a huge collection of lingerie, most of which he buys for me. I have one drawer for black, for when he wants me dark and mysterious, and one for mostly white, for when Ed wants the virginal effect. Tonight would be a "white" night. In the back of my mind I wondered what erotic adventures Ed was planning for this evening.

I took off all my clothes and stood naked sorting through the clothes Ed would like me in.

I pulled out a small plastic bag with delicate stockings from my drawer and put it on the bed, then continued collecting items to wear. A pale pink lacy garter belt would complement the sheer white stockings which I pulled on, I smoothed them up my legs, and pulled them taught at my thigh. The tops of the very sheer white stockings had a large white satin bow in the back, and I made sure to center it perfectly over my rear thighs. I turned the wide lacy pink garter belt over, slid it around and fastened it at my flat lower belly. Then I rotate it so that the clasp was at the back and reached for one of the metal tabs and its soft tab. I held the garter belt stretched to my front thigh and slipped the soft rubber tab below the top of my stocking, then hooked it in. The other front was easy, but I always have a bit of a hard time fastening the starts of the garter to my rear thighs. But I managed, and they looked very straight to me.

I looked over my shoulder at myself in the mirror. I smiled, satisfied knowing Ed would like what he saw when I went downstairs. My long trim legs showed very nicely in the pale white, delicate stockings. At my thighs, the discreet bow topping each smooth thigh made me look like a present to be unwrapped. I slowly turned and looked over my shoulder at myself from the back.

I knew all to well what Ed liked, the parts of my body he singled out for "attention". He liked best the parts of me that were soft and full. I looked at my profile, my breasts bare and thrust forward. Ed liked the way my full breasts were turned up, so my large pink nipples pointed slightly upwards, and the full bottom curve of my breast, where my tits were plumpest.

My gaze dropped as I turned a bit more and looked at my round, smooth, white bottom, naked and defenseless between the pink garter belt and the white stockings below. Pale as my bottom was now, I knew that it wouldn't be for very much longer, and I shuddered at the sting I knew I would feel when my bottom got the spankings that Ed had hinted at. I recalled the many times his strong large hand had alternated languidly between kneading my naked bottom, squeezing each full cheek strongly press and shaking my ass, then leisurely raising his hand and bringing it down hard and sharp on one or the other bottom cheek, a loud SMACK followed by a gasp or whimper from me as the hot, stinging feeling coursed through my rear end.

I closed my eyes, sighed, then rummaged through my underwear drawer for a pair of panties. Perfect! White lace, low cut with thinner sides and in back just what Ed liked—not a thong, but a boyish short short cut which left the lower half of my bottom cheeks visible. In the front it was thin and low, just barely covering my shaved pussy, but in the rear it was cut very high on the bottom cheeks, and then low at the waist.

The top was a no-brainer, as Ed had just given me a lovely white lace bra, with delicate lace embroidery and very soft cloth cups which slipped over and totally conformed to the shape of my largish boobs.

I turned the flimsy white garment around and put it around my belly, fastened the clasp and flipped it up. I carefully pulled the cups over my breasts, and slid the gauzy, wide, white straps over my arms onto my shoulders. Watching my bust in the mirror, I carefully arranged each boob so that it was perfectly centered in its sustaining bra cup.

While getting ready, I was distracted by thoughts of my upcoming discipline session. Sometimes Ed was gentle and slow, building over an entire evening of teasing with soft smacks and caresses to the culmination when I might be over his knee, panties bunched at my ankles, and Ed's hand would be flying up and down as he finally gave my bare bottom a fast, hard, blistering spanking, causing my naked rear cheeks to flail wildly and bounce on his lap.

Other times he liked to start very rough, and then get gentle with me after I was trembling and sweaty. Last punishment night had been one of those. The moment I had gotten downstairs all done up in black lace and a black teddy, Ed has spun me around, pushed my head so that I was bowing, yanked my panties down unceremoniously, and had whipped me soundly with his doubled over, heavy leather belt. I had been crying after a mere couple of smacks of the belt, but Ed kept going until my entire bottom and upper thighs were red and marked.

I continue to dress. To finish the effect I slipped my feet into a pair of strappy white stiletto heels with little belts that fastened delicately around my ankles. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. Ed would be pleased, I looked great. I sauntered on my high heels into the bathroom and spent at leat 10 minutes applying eyeshadow and eyeliner, then lipstick and perfuming myself. I'd show Ed what a good pleaser I could be, and he wouldn't even punish me. I might just get away with having been a brat the whole week after all!

Funny, how one can fool oneself so badly sometimes!

When I finished, I applied deep rep lipstick to my full lips, and started down the hall to go downtairs. I called out "Ed, can I come down now?" Voices drifted up to me, other male voices, and I froze. Who was here? What was I to do dressed like this if there were other men here.

Before I could react or think to bolt back to my room, Ed appeared at the bottom of the stairs, "Come down Stacey! I have a couple of friends here who would like to meet you!"

"But," I whimpered, "I'm not dressed."

Ed looked me over from the bottom of the stairs, "Quite the contrary, Stacey, you're more dressed than you will be for most of this evening. Now come downstairs, immediately!"

Trembling, I carefully stepped down the stairs towards the living room, balancing precariously on the high white heels. Dressed only in my bra, panties garter belt and stockings. Could he really have someone over, and show me off this way, I wondered fearfully? It was one thing to dress in skimpy lingerie for my husband, who had possessed my body in every possible way and explored and penetrated all of my folds and openings, bending my submissive feminine body to his pleasure as he rode me roughly or pulsed liquidly into my mouth. But, my panicked mind reeled, he was going to make me parade like a sex-toy for someone else!

As soon as I nervously descended a couple more steps, the voices I'd heard became clearer. Two of Ed's good friends, Larry and Bob, sat on the sofa, looking at me descending the stair shyly into the living room, walking daintily, and I knew seductively my hips swaying as I went from step to step, into the room, dressed only in my underwear! The broad grins on their faces made it clear how much they enjoyed my humiliating situation, and the lack of any hesitation in the way they stared at my lingerie clad body made it obvious that Ed had made it clear to them that they were to enjoy my sexy state without reservations.

I often saw Larry and Bob when we went out, mostly to bars, with Ed, though I never really got to know them very well. Sure, whenever we were out with them they both flirted and complimented me, but they always were very proper and gentlemanlike, though I always caught them looking at my body when they though I wasn't watching. The grins when I entered, and the way they leaned forward expectantly and pouted their lips frightened me. I felt like a fluffy, helpless, rabbit trapped in front of two hungry dogs, and I knew they weren't even pretending to be polite. They were going to take advantage of my predicament to the utmost. I couldn't help it. I glanced quickly at their crotches. As I feared, they both had prominent bulges which I feared I'd have much closer contact with before my ordeal was over.

I hesitated at the bottom of the stair, but Ed commanded me sternly, "Stacey, come down right away and say hello politely to my friends. As you've been exemplarily bratty recently, Larry and Bob have been kind enough to agree to help me correct your behavior and your poor attitude."

I looked from one to the other grinning male. There was no doubt how much they enjoyed seeing me skimpily and submissively standing there.

A tiny whimper of fear escaped my lips.

"I've already explained, Stacey," said Ed, "to Larry and Bob how you've been inconsiderate and ill-disposed this last week, and that we need to help you correct that attitude.

"Larry, Bob, you've been downright neighborly in offering to help little Stacey learn the consequence of her brattiness. Girls who don't behave have to understand that their privileges are going to be taken away from them. We're going to have to drive home the lesson to this naughty girl, that when she behaves like a snotty little bitch, she's going to lose the right to walk around as she likes but will have to make up her behavior by showing her obedience in following orders, and that she loses the right to any say over who touches or uses her in whatever way they like.

"Stacey, to get you started in the right frame of mind, you will call us each "Sir," and you will do exactly as you're told. Do you understand? I want to hear you say "Yes, Sir, I understand."

The words came haltingly from me, "Yes, Sir, I understand."

"Now," continued Ed, "as Larry and Bob are sacrificing their evening towards your edification, I think it is only fitting that you go over and give them a thank you kiss, and then do twirl so that they can see the ripe little body which we'll be spending so much time working out your bad behavior on."

I walked carefully forward, one slim high-heeled step in front of the other, I slowly approached Larry who was sitting on the sofa. I looked down towards the floor. Larry looked at me coldly, and I realized he wasn't going to stand up. I crooked on knee and put it on the ground, then the other. Kneeling I was a little shorter than him and I put my hands on his thighs to steady myself as I leaned across my lips pouted to kiss him obediently. Larry leaned forward and pressed his prickly, moustached lip to my plump lipsticked ones. I felt his tabacco-tasting tongue separate my lips and enter my mouth. He kissed me deeply, forcefully rubbing his rough tongue over mine.

After as little time as possible without being insulting I pulled back and stood gingerly. Larry motioned in a circle with his hand, and I stood just between his knees and slowly turned a full circle. I could feel his gaze burn into my body, taking in my large firm boobs in their thin lacey cups. I knew my nipples were only visible in outline, my wide areolas just visible through the sheer white material, but the lace on the cup hid my actual nipples. Larry's eyes were glued to my tits as I turned slowly. A breast man, I thought. Just the thought of that made my nipples harden and tingle, and little did I know that they had every reason to tingle. Had they only know what was coming, and what Larry would later do to my poor sensitive nippies!

Next I slowly walked over to Bob. Now I was really nervous. Bob was a redneck type and he was also not at all taken in by my delicate femininity, but always treated me crassly and roughly. He was obviously the kind of man who likes a dainty girl but only so as to be able to dominate and embarrass her more effectively. He often made crude comments when we were together, referring to my body in inappropriate ways, even in front of Ed. Ed never seemed to mind or chastise him when he made comments about my legs or boobs.

Bar girl mammaries

I blushed as I recalled all too vividly last month when Ed and I had gone to a bar for a drink and Bob joined us. Ed had called him and told him to come enjoy the evening with us. Ed had insisted that I wear high white heels, white short hot pants with ridiculously inappropriate brief black panties under them. My long legs were bare, and my panties were obvious and darkly visible through the white short shorts, just as Ed intended. In keeping with the Southern Nights theme of the bar, Ed had made a big fuss insisting I wear a thin, loose cut T-shirt which left my arms bare and which he'd made me tie just under the bottom of my bra, which was also black and also evident through the shirt. I'd refused to leave the house like that, and was almost in tears, but Ed had calmly given me an ultimatum,

"Stacey, you're either going to stop your fussing now and come with me like a good girl, or I'm going to pull you over my knee, pull down your shorts to bare your naughty plump little ass, and I'm going to take my belt off and strap your soft little bottom until it looks like a tomato. I'm also going to smack you with my belt all over your upper thighs. Then, we're going to walk out and go to the same bar, where everyone will be able to see your freshly smacked thighs and butt. So it's up to you, do you want to walk into that bar with your ass well-spanked for everyone to see, or are you come along like an obedient girl?"

I had no choice. I knew Ed would be only too happy to start the evening giving me a thorough strapping and would enjoy the added stares and hoots I'd get at the bar. I nodded dumbly, mortified, and walked out to the car meekly without another word of argument.

So I'd ended up at the Southern Nights where the guys drank bourbon shots and forced me to drink a few as well, so I was unsteady on my feet. Getting up from the table, Bob, looked down at me, and announced, "Let's play some pinball Stacey, come on!" I was hesitant, shaking my head, but Ed said firmly, "Go!" So I tottered up and we walked over to the pinball machine which was in the center of the walk of the uncrowded bar. As I walked towards the machine, I realized that there were only men at this bar, all sleazy looking and all watching the spectacle I was making of myself as I walked to the machine. I felt their eyes roving over my soft ass, relishing the sight of my obviously visible panties. I could almost feel how their hands wanted to grab and explore my defenseless bottom and roughly pull my shorts down and my panties aside so their fingers could plunge into my cunt and asshole. I tried not to look at the guys at the bar, blushing furiously as I crossed the floor in front of them, but seeing out of the corner of my eyes their heads swivel to watch me as I passed.

I quickly walked to the pinball machine to steady myself against it, standing to one side, so that the men at the bar couldn't see the lower half of my body. Bob left me there alone, looking meekly down at the pinball machine so I wouldn't have to meet the gaze of the staring patrons, and walked over to the bartender. He spent a moment talking with the bartender and they both laughed at something and looked over at me, grinning.

Suspiciously, the bartender turned and reached into the till, then handed Bob a couple of rolls of coins. Bob beckoned to Ed with a head movement, and Ed amusedly walked up to the bar. The three men exchanged some conversation and the barman laid a shot glass and a bottle of bourbon in front of Ed and Bob.

They then walked over towards the pinball machine I was practically hiding behind, smiling. "Stacey," Bob said in a voice that was clearly as much for the benefit of the rest of the bar as for me, "This establishment has very graciously decided to sponsor you in learning the fine art of pinball! We're going to have a good long training session to prepare you to be the pinball mascot for the Southern Nights! Isn't that friendly of them?"

All the men in the bar turned and watched amused. I was scared, alone there with Bob and Ed who was clearly enjoying this and wasn't about to come to my rescue. I was already fuzzy from the two shots I'd had, and I knew I had to be friendly and obedient to stay out of trouble.

"Umm, yes, Bob, that's really kind of them, but, you know, I'm not at all good at pinball. I'm all thumbs!" I smiled what I'd hoped was an amused, conciliatory smile, but I knew that my nerves showed through and my smile looked forced.

"Precisely" said Bob, "why we need to apply a strict training regime to motivate you to improve. Now..." he laid the rolls of quarters down on the glass of the pinball machine as well as the shot glass, which he filled. "The rules are that every game you lose and don't make the minimum score, you either need to drink down a shot of bourbon, or pay a forfeit," "What forfeit?" my voice quavered, "I can't drink that much!"

Bob smiled disarmingly, "Oh, don't worry about that Stace, we have confidence that you'll be able to hold your own. All you need to make is 1 million points. It will be easy."

He fed some quarters into the machine until it showed five credits. He motioned for me to come around to stand facing the pinball machine. I concentrated on the machine and Bob and Ed stood to either side watching me.

The first two games, I made the minimum score easily. It wasn't too hard! Then, while I was playing the second ball on my third game, I distinctly heard two men at the bar, not even trying to speak softly so I wouldn't hear, say to each other "Damn, she's got one hell of a bouncy juicy ass!" Another voice responded, "Yeah, and those big jugs have even more swing to them." Finally, the same guy just shouted out towards me, "yeehaa, swing those melons around, babe!"

I froze, stopping the bouncing my body had been inadvertently doing, and, of course, the ball just slid unimpeded down between the immobile flippers. I knew the guys were just eating up the sight of my firm swelling bottom in the white brief shorts, and the prominent swell of my puffy pussy which I knew filled the middle of my shorts out visibly. Worst of all, when my ass lurched one way, I could feel my breasts swing jauntily in the other direction.