Slut Training 02

Slut Training 02

The Evening Surprise

She knew she had no options. It was the sheer compulsion of his will that kept her aroused and compliant. The fact that he would never take no or her reluctance as answer that kept her eager and interested.

There was an imminent twenty four hours of subbie slavery planned. Twenty four hours of dressing the way she was instructed to and doing as she was told. Twenty four hours of being open and amenable to him and all his erotic plans for her. Twenty four hours of being wet and sustaining an accelerated heart rate for the entire duration.

He had planned to take her out when he first arrived and had shared that fact with her. Her initial reaction thought was that this was going to be something sweet and romantic, but of course it could be and most likely was going to be more than that. There would be a twist. There was always a twist.

She had nice legs. She was aware that they had kept their shape, smoothness and remained scar-free over the years. Not overly long, they were still extremely sexy and seductive when posed and displayed. She had had many compliments in her life about them but as she had gotten older, she had started to hide them. Not deliberately. Not under instructions. But out of instinct to show restraint and a degree of chastity.

This was something her Dom had noticed and a mindset that he aimed to change. He had made it his mission for her to experience a gradual mind shift from restrained moderation to open unbridled, sexy sluttiness.

She knew that the idea was that they were not going to be just on display in the bedroom from now on and it made her breathe just a little heavier. She was expected to dress more appropriately for him when they were out and it was pleasant and pleasing that he was so proud of how she looked.

First step were the shoes she was going to be expected to wear. She was now the owner of, amongst others, a pair of brilliant red, open toed five inch heels that made her stand up straight and kept her from slouching. The shoes were very glossy, and gave her body a slutty elegance. She could imagine everyone's eyes on her as she walked and it took all her courage to hold her head up high when in public, even though she knew she would be the subject of many men's wet dreams for several nights after they had seen her.

Second step was to purchase a much sexier and shorter skirt than she was used to. Dressing in black or dark material that tented around her ankles like a Victorian school ma'am was her usual go to. Cover everything as though a barrier to her womanly charms; a defence against contemplating her still extremely desirable and undiminished sex.

The red leather, half split, mini skirt was perfect. It shouted classy but also slutty. The split at the thigh showed almost to her pussy, leaving a hint of mischief for a casual observer as to whether she was wearing underwear or not.

Of course he wouldn't allow her to. She knew that; he knew that, but the general population that she would meet whilst out when wearing it wouldn't.

Her heart pounded.

She prayed that she wouldn't recognize anyone wherever they went. As much as she was proud to be seen with her Dom, and as much as her confidence had increased for how she looked, there was still the slight embarrassment that she was looking very different to how she was usually perceived. No longer the buttoned up and conservative mom, she was going to look the drop dead sexy, provocative MILF instead.

It wasn't even the adults that she could potentially meet, but the younger members of the population that she dealt with in her daily work life. Would they look at her aghast? Judge her maybe? Would they look at her differently at work from then on?

Nothing naughty would be on view. Her breasts and pussy were never going to be displayed. But it was the hint of a vibrant, sexually active woman, unapologetic in her demeanor during private times that should be hers to revel in and enjoy without fear of comment or criticism.

They were going to drive out into the country, she had no doubt about that. She wouldn't need knickers as her pussy should be open and completely at her Dom's disposal. She would be wearing those highest heels as Sir liked her slightly off balance and dependent on him, along with the shape that her muscles made when under duress. And because he liked her legs, as much of them would be on display as possible between shoes and skirt.

It was nice he liked them. He was always stroking them and she did know that he had wanked at home looking at them. She often thought about encasing them in stockings or stay ups. A short skirt of course would reveal the stocking tops which was a classic slutty look that tights didn't give.

As the weather was due to get colder, and potentially cold on their day together, she thought she might have to explore that particular clothing option in the future. It was no point asking him about whether she was allowed tights, not unless she could cut out the crotch as an incentive for him to say yes.

Would they stay intact and reusable if she did? Maybe that was a thought that could be explored or whether she couldn't be bothered with asking a question that she already knew the answer to, and she just wore stockings and suspenders as normal attire, whether or not she was with him at the time.

She was used to large voluminous skirts at work. No one need know what was beneath. And if Sir liked her stocking tops on display during their times together? Well, that really was his prerogative.

And if she felt like a slut at the time, then she would just have to keep tissues to hand to mop between her legs when she needed to.

...

The evening out was planned to commence her twenty four hours of slavery and her prior expectations of the organisation were one of a remote public house somewhere with a log fire where no one would have seen her before or know her name. A romantic and very nice experience that would keep a limited pulse rate before they returned home.

It seemed almost normal that he picked her up during the darkening evening and helped her to the car. Climbing the garden steps to the road in her stilettos was almost effortless while clinging to his arm, but it was with relief she slid into the passenger seat of his car before too many neighbours were sighted at their windows intrigued by the click clack of her heels.

As he walked round to access the driver's seat, she unbuttoned her leather brown coat and opened it across her chest. It was still warm in the car. The blouse beneath tented slightly at each nipple as the journey from house to the vehicle had caused some chaffing whilst her breasts bounced unrestrained. The leather skirt was riding up her leg, the split accentuating the stocking tops and offering the view of a large portion of her creamy white thigh.

She was aware of his appreciative glance as he swung into his own seat and smiled happily at his pleasure.

The drive through the city was a relaxing experience, his trailing hand on her knee when not required to change gear, feeling electric shocks of excitement as he almost absent-mindedly cupped her thigh flesh above the stockings whilst maintaining a conversation and concentration on the road.

Several times she closed her eyes as his little finger coursed down her flesh into the gap between her thighs, glancing occasionally against the intuitive unfurling of her inner labia as they poked out erotically for attention.

But it was with surprise that she heard the indicator used and felt the car slow down to turn onto a rough track. Opening her eyes, she watched the headlamps pick out the sign at foot of the track saying Stockhill Woods. This didn't look like a pub. Had they come here to eat?

Sitting up a little more with curiousity, she was aware of her man's caution on his approach onto the potholed ground and the fact that his lights were picking out several other dark cars dotted around the outskirts of what was essentially a circular piece of scrub ground.

He slowly drove the circle, maintaining a small distance from each car in turn, but establishing that there were indeed people inside each. Perhaps this was the parking for a nearby Inn and they were just collecting their thoughts before making their way on foot down a path?

He made the circle again, and this time she noticed that strangely, most of the cars only held one occupant. As she looked across to him to remark on this fun fact, the truth of the matter hit her.

This was a dogging carpark. These cars were most likely full of men. Men on their own or with their mates. Drunk or horny or frustrated men. Men with a desire for a woman but with nowhere to go for one and with balls full of spunk looking for somewhere to dump it.

Her mouth made an almost perfect O as the realisation hit her and the car slowed to a halt. They looked at each other without speaking. This had been a fantasy of hers for so long but the idea of fantasy and actuality were often polar extremes.

She had used the idea of faceless men wanking over her to cum before now, imagining putting on a show for them, letting strangers see her body. Touch her body. Even invade her orifices without restraint or invitation on occasional nights when she was feeling inebriated or mellow.

She had fantasised about what they would do to her; how frequently they would take her; how demanding they would be. Her sex-brain had explored the concept as her fingers and toys had explored between her legs, and thought about all the cocks stiff at the view of her body. It had made for countless explosive orgasms over the years.

And now?

What was the reality?

The reality was that if she were alone, there would be the fear that one strange man would go too far. The fantasy was that she wouldn't say no... couldn't say no. The reality was a little fear of that concept. Could it become more of an attack rather than a mutually agreed experience? She didn't know how excited any of them would become or how nasty they could get. This was a concern. Or conversely, what if they weren't bothered? What if they were waiting for someone else? What if she wasn't good enough?

Her face betrayed her second thought concerns, and he understood. It was time for a quick conversation about boundaries and limits. It was time to decide on the line between fun and exciting, and too far. Her Dom was a big bloke and his car essentially a small tank. If the fantasy was ever going to happen, today the circumstances were perfect.

...

She was happy.

Nervous but happy.

Excited as fuck and getting very wet too as it happened. She could feel a pool of her own excitement collecting on the seat between her legs and the slight chill of it attacking her thighs as it ran across the leather.

They had temporarily retreated to the carpark entrance in order for her to remove her coat into the back seat, and to have his scarf tied around her eyes. This could, they agreed, be removed later if she wanted, but would keep her anonymous for as long as she needed. Her blouse was quite low cut anyway, showing a great deal of cleavage, but leaving something to the imagination. Seatbelt removed, her skirt pulled up a little higher all round now, a strip of flesh extremely visible from above her stocking tops to her pussy.

She felt like meat on display in a movable shop, and it was exciting to feel the car moving once more. Too late to change her mind, her trust was in her Dom to keep her safe.

He felt for the interior light and she heard him push on various bits of plastic until he found the right button. She heard the click and instinctively knew that she was now bathed in a spotlight. The clunk now of the door locks as they all descended in unison; safely locked in for as long as she needed to be. Now the gentle hum of the electric window as the one beside her descended and she felt the chill of the air on all the naked parts of her flesh.

She felt the passage of the car. He was moving it in a circle once more. This time slower and more deliberate, as though he was getting as close as possible to each of the parked cars in turn; advertising her to each occupant in turn. The chill she felt was now no longer from the cold air, but from the excitement of what she was doing.

Her shoulders, which had started off very rounded and subduing to her breasts, all of a sudden started to loosen and sit back. Her nipples, instead of almost shrinking into her cleavage beneath her blouse, started to sit up proudly on top of each displayed mound which seemed to compete with each other for attention above the material. Deep breaths improved her posture and expanded her lungs and ribcage and all of a sudden she felt herself pulling down the loose top to display her wares more openly.

Excitement was causing a little abandon, and she heard the ripping of fabric as she started to tear it away. She had beautiful breasts that still, even in her mid fifties, had kept their bounce and allure and were still as pert as ever. She felt anonymous behind her makeshift blindfold and all of a sudden she didn't care who could see them.

Oblivious to the stranger's responses each time, the only overt signals she could discern were from her man's reactions. A little chuckle on occasion; a pat of her knee; a stroke down the inside of her thigh.

She swung her hand across to his lap and immediately located the hard swelling of his cock in the front of his trousers. He was obviously turned on by her and the circumstances they were in. His grunt of surprise turned to a low growl of pleasure.

This seemed to give her courage to continue and she threw her head back on the seat headrest, aware that the only part of her face visible to others was the smart bright red gash of her open lips.

She felt the many eyes on her. Each and every car had had an opportunity to look across at her. Even though she doubted very much that they had had any opportunity to see her legs or pussy, her breasts had had almost full exposure.

She whispered an affirmative to his impromptu question about if she was willing to carry on and she felt the car come to a halt, undoubtedly right in the middle of the circle and then heard and felt the car judder as the engine was turned off.

Her body had been displayed. The offer to others had been made. She was now going to the subject of a lot of attention.

Without the engine purring and in the silence of the night, she heard car doors around them open and close, the distant male laughs as they betrayed their own nervousness as to what was about to happen; the swish of clothing and the cracks of twigs underfoot as multiple strange people moved towards them.

...

She was used to assuming slave poses for her Dom, and she had no doubt that he was contemplating instructing her to get into one now. It was a comfortable and comforting expectation on her body normally. But here now, in the passenger seat of the car, it was a little impractical.

'Collar Me' was about the closest she could get to, and after he had given her the edict, she instinctively raised her hands to behind her head, using the open window for her left elbow, relaxing her knees apart and raising her breasts alluringly.

Without vision, every other sense was hyper-alert for any other stimuli. The sounds of approaching bodies, the footsteps and shuffling. The musky smell of tobacco and weed on the still air from some quarters. The awareness that her pussy was just about the wettest it had ever been.

"Just look!"

Her Dom had spoken. No doubt a hand or face had been getting too close. She felt the remnant of her blouse ripped across and knew that her chest was totally on display, but it was her Dom who had done it. His hand now on a breast, his finger mauling at a nipple. She felt like it was on end as he pulled it uncomfortably out for the audience.

She had to release a moan of appreciative pain at the assault and wanted to see the audience reaction. She opened her eyes behind the blindfold and the stark realisation of her circumstance refired in her brain. Her imagination was running riot. How many men were watching? Was it just men? Had they got their cocks out and were they stroking themselves?

Fuck! She had agreed to keep the blindfold on for a while to maintain her anonymity, but the reality was that she needed to see if there were a range of cocks rising for her at her side. The loss of that option was a sign of her subjugation.

She could hear some squelching like moisture on flesh. Obviously men's hands on their own members either with or without oil.

She wondered what her Dom was making of the strangers' cocks stiffening whilst watching his property. Would he even look? Would he be proud of her making them stiff?

As though intuitively, he whispered this exact thought to her as he eased his left hand once more between her legs to stroke her curling labia out for effect and to tell her that he was proud of her.

Her deep breathing intensified and she let out a wail of excitement as she needed that physical contact on her most intimate place and didn't care right there and then who should provide it.

There was the familiar smell of precum and penis. One or more men were at her window. The faint aroma of male sexuality pervaded her nostrils and she became aware of a minute brushing of her elbow by an unknown object, most likely the repeated pumping of a hand on his member.

The excitement of knowing a random cock was right beside her was almost too much to bear; that a random man was wanking himself at the sight of her body; that there were a queue of men waiting to see her.

Feeling her man's fingers still between her legs, she shifted her weight slightly and moved her pelvis forward to offer everyone an instinctively better view of her open genitalia, fully aware that she was now open wide under the ceiling mounted spotlight and her skirt remaining as nothing more than a belt around her waist. The man immediately to her left sucked in his breath in an obvious response to the shape of her body and she wailed her own excitement as she felt her man's finger creeping inside and up.

The remaining rag of her blouse was suddenly pulled from around her neck and her Dom told her to drop her hands and play with herself.

...

One of her little hands grasped immediately for an open and exposed breast and her other took his hand's place at her clit, quickly massaging herself as only she knew how, returning her heart rate to orgasm levels.

There was a conversation going on between her Dom and the man outside but her mind was not on it. She was wanking herself for goodness knows how many people, her pussy lips open wider than they had ever been, and she was now quickly approaching climax.

Suddenly she heard the man outside her door grunt and she felt droplets like rain cover her chest and hand. Shit, she had been spunked on by someone who had seen all of her body, but whom she would never know as long as she lived. A decadent moment and the sexiest and dirtiest she had ever felt in her life. She was, in that moment, a real life cum dump rather than just a name her Dom called her on occasion.

The thought pushed her over the edge and she wailed into her first orgasm, the splash of her squirt filling the seat and seeping down the narrow V between her legs down to her ass and offering the audience something that she had only shared with a special few people up until this moment in her life.

The hand she was using on her chest found the spent residue and felt how copiously creamy it was. A rope of it had assailed her cleavage and somehow landed on both breasts as well as the back of her hand. At the point of second orgasm, she couldn't help but think about how much there was. Did she inspire massive cum shots from men?