Exquisite Humiliation Ch. 1

The phone rang late at night. Kate, my daughter in Brisbane had been hospitalised for a few days. I recognised the caller's voice and felt a sense of shame at my response. Instinctively my arm folded to cover my hardening nipples and I turned my back so that Alf didn't see.

Every time my husband made love to me, since my initial meeting with Steve my mind had been elsewhere, unable to resist the fantasy that I was having sex with Steve rather than him. I grew wet, blushing and stumbling my words, shaking like a leaf, from the shock of hearing Steve's voice again. If Alf noticed the telltale changes in my body? He just couldn't! I was completely naked and so unable to disguise my excited state. My confidence quickly disintegrated.

"What?--How?---Will she be alright?" I was almost incoherent as I tried to talk rationally while trying to hide my feelings for him.

"Nothing for you to worry about." Steve chuckled. "Can I speak to Alf for a moment, perhaps?" He suggested in a caring tone.

I composed myself while Alf took the call for me, too unsettled to speak to Steve again. Although my only daughter's medical condition didn't appear urgent, she had still been admitted to hospital for a minor gynaecological procedure, according to what Alf told me after he put the phone down. He urged me to take a few days break away, to check on Kate and put my mind at rest, even though he wasn't able to come with me on such short notice. I'd heard him accept Steve's offer of accommodation so at that point, I didn't dare to make other plans. Alf would suspect that something was wrong, still having no idea that Steve was attracted to me. I wasn't completely sure about him myself. The fact remained that I was about to stay with Steve for a few days as his guest and be on my own at their house with him. Could I trust myself? Recent evidence suggested otherwise but of course I wanted to go and stay with him while Kate was in hospital.

It all happened in such a rush. Between packing a small overnight bag and organising holiday finances, I barely slept a wink. I was bleary eyed when I farewelled my husband next morning.

"Let me know if you need me?" Alf said at the check-in. "I can see that you're worried about Kate. Steve said that they have a spare double bedroom at his house. I'll ring up to let him know your flight number and have him meet you at the airport."

Alf bid me farewell at the departure area, allowing me time to think about the reason I had really decided to go. I recalled our initial meeting with Steve, just a few short weeks ago;

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The moment I saw Steve I had the disturbing sense that I had met him before. His piercing blue eyes and his well tanned, ruggedly handsome features commanded attention right from the moment he walked through our front door. I couldn't tear my eyes from him. Kate's new partner brought to mind my first husband, a well equipped lover with a superb body. When his eyes met mine, I noted more than a casual interest in his expression. Steve was subdued at first, eying me over with sexual interest, obvious to me. Kate started off introductions in her bubbly infectious manner.

"This is my mum, Steve.----Mrs Atkins, these days." She blushed as I smiled and swiftly corrected her.

"Just call me Tricia, Steve."

He approached me with arms outstretched in total silence, confidently and smug with a hint of a cheeky grin on his face, so much like the way I'd met Ken, my first husband.

"Haven't I seen you around somewhere before?" I prompted him. 'Confounded sense of deja vu!' I thought. The last time I saw Kate in Brisbane, six months ago, she had been flatting with two young girls. No mention of any boyfriends, at that time. Steve replied, tongue in cheek, with an impish expression on his face, rolling his eyes as he spoke to me.

"I'm sure that I would have remembered meeting YOU, if I had." It sounded like a pick up line, the way I took it. His eyes undressed me, turning my complexion pink. Although his flippant remark seemed amusing to the others in the room it was full of innuendo. I tried to curtail a mutual attraction by reaching out to shake his hand.

A tingle of desire touched my body and my heart fluttered, none the less, the moment my flesh touched in greeting. I gazed into his eyes. What was the matter with me? This man was younger than I was. Now 43, I put him in his late twenties. Besides, he was my daughter's regular boyfriend, soon to be my son-in-law judging by the letters I had been receiving lately. Although first contact was strict social etiquette, to be expected, Steve held onto my hand for longer than necessary.

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After getting comfortable,[More about that later.] I tried to get to sleep on the plane. Closing my eyes, but thinking about Steve, I just couldn't get him out of my mind as I napped. While awake I convinced myself that I had to be mistaken. Steve had been hoping to complement his future mother-in law at our last meeting, surely? None the less I made sure that I was never alone with him for the rest of his stay.

Luckily, Alf befriended Steve and monopolised his short time with us. Maybe it was just my over-active imagination at work? It wasn't until the plane was descending over the coral sea, lining up it's approach to Eagle Farm airport, that my stomach knotted up with nerves. I was trembling, despite my calm exterior. I loved flying and had travelled alone before. There was only one explanation when I thought about it. 'What made me dispose of those panties?' 'Do I want to get caught?'

Dressed in one of my classiest summer business outfits, I knew Steve was meeting me at the airport. Although I hadn't addressed the issue, my moral values altered dramatically since the time I first met him. Remembering past events, my reckless need originated from then;

After Steve's first visit, actually the same night they left, I urged Alf to try a few different sexual positions and techniques. With my normal reservation on hold I begged him to share any hidden desires that he might have, with me. Guilt played a part in my impulsive need to improve the sexual side of my relationship with my husband.

"Go on, Alf. You must have a few unfulfilled fantasies stored away. You never know? I might be happy to go along with them. We're getting older and we really should be able to talk about these things at our age." I remembered rationalising with him.

Alf smiled and whispered in my ear. My eyes widened as he spoke but I listened without saying a word. His fantasy world took me by surprise because Alf had always been so enigmatic in the past. If he had those kind of fetishes all along, I would never have guessed. Still, in the spirit of livening up our marriage, I couldn't see much harm in it.

"It's only play acting. You can always refuse." Alf explained anxiously. "You did ask, Tricia!" He emphasised, his face reddening defensively, waiting. "Well, what do you think?"

As I nodded my head slowly, my own fantasy began to flourish. Alf had just surprised me with his candour. I was shocked yet excited.

"Will you let me?" His voice rose to a higher pitch. "Really?"

Alf's expression changed from nervous apprehension to one of animated delight. He obviously couldn't believe his good fortune, in essential need of a boost to his libido. Sex had become perfunctory between us.

"Anything for you, Tiger. I only want to make you happy. I'll do whatever you say from now on." I spoke for the first time.

"I'm going to hold you to that." He affirmed, with a contented expression on his face. "I think we should start right away?"

I slipped my nightie off, laying a towel on the bed, by way of reply.

Alf sprang into action, getting all the equipment he would need from our en-suite bathroom. I gazed lovingly into his eyes as I blushingly positioned myself, legs fully apart, with a rapidly moistening vulva. He grabbed a waterproof cushion off my dressing table chair. I raised my hips dutifully while he placed the cushion under my bottom. "Please be careful, Tiger. Remember! I don't want to get cut." I giggled with embarrassment while he lathered up in between my legs, not forgetting the inner cheeks of my bottom. Alf had always been so thorough, absolutely pedantic, most of our mutual friends would say.

The first part of the process turned me on far more than I expected.

"It tickles!" I gasped, giggling even more loudly as my libido grew stronger. "For God's sake be careful."

When Alf began shaving my entire pubic region I closed my eyes tight and prayed that he knew what he was doing. He was blissfully unaware, as far as I knew, but in my own secret fantasy world I imagined that it was Steve down there, tending these most intimate requirements so tenderly. Each stroke of his safety razor sent a shockwave of static electricity coursing though my body. The orgasmic sensation caused my nipples to harden and grow. Exposed skin became more sensitive to the touch once the hair was removed completely. Alf's laboured breathing over my rigid labia almost brought me to a climax. Once he completed his task, the slightest touch sent chills of delight running through my spine. Alf beckoned me to follow him.

"Let's powder you up down there?" He was fully erect even then.

I followed him into our en suite, an obedient sex slave, looking like a pre-pubescent schoolgirl apart from for my lust swollen labia lips. We both examined my reflection in the mirror, Alf whispering in awe.

"You look gorgeous, darling." He breathed. "I knew you would."

Sexual intercourse followed immediately, right there in the bathroom. Alf was as randy as I was. It was like starting married life all over again. My husband loved the shaven look so much that I readily agreed to keep my pubic region as smooth as a billiard ball. We used a cheap depilatory cream every day until the growth ceased. My pubic hair had never been lush and plentiful, unlike other lady friends I knew.

Requests became orders as I allowed Alf to assume control. I obeyed him willingly at first, enjoying the game as much as he did. Each day brought demands that stretched my limits but after the first night of passion, Alf could barely keep his hands off me. Obedience brought a reward, dampening my sense of guilt. At last we discussed our mutual needs more openly. I gave up wearing panties at home, exciting myself before his eyes, as a prelude to sex without the normal shame. I also overcame my reluctance to indulge in oral sex with him, beginning to believe that, paradoxically, I was the one that was in control.

"They say that life begins at 40, don't they?" He enthused.

"I don't think I've ever enjoyed sex quite as much." I'd agreed with a guilty smile. "It keeps getting better all the time."

Alf brought an illustrated book from hiding, that helped inspire his fantasy, inviting me to read it with him. Arguments became rarer. He was still unaware of my obsession over Steve and I'd felt it best to keep that fact secret. Over the years I had trained myself to use an endearment with Alf, fearing I would betray myself, using my previous husband, Ken's name in the odd moment of unbridled passion. I called Alf 'Tiger', long before the name became more appropriate.

The first time Alf instructed me to go with him to our local shopping centre dressed normally, but without underwear, I finally rebelled.

"Not in this short skirt!" I gasped. "For God's sake Tiger!"

"Go on! Be a devil." He chortled. "Leave your panties at home!" He demanded. "Remember what you promised?"

We argued, leading to our first compromise.

Let me choose a longer dress before I would agree to leave our house.

Naturally, I was nervous, but quickly discovered that the sensation of walking around in a public setting, minus my knickers, promoted an unexpected adrenalin rush. Becoming aware of people around me, places that we visited and the natural environment in a completely different way, I began to enjoy the challenge. The swirling air around my naked pubic area stimulated my desires, making me eager for sex when we got home. Fear of exposure kept me alert. When it was breezy I would tuck a pair of briefs into my purse, in case I needed them. Alf caught me one day and flew into a rage, his rapid mood swing frightening me.

"You know that I won't allow you to wear panties while I'm with you." He thundered. "Anyway, my lady, by the time you get to put them on it would be too late. What do you think you could do, Tricia?" His eyes gleamed in manic triumph. "Put them on in public?"

Not daring to argue, I left them at home, feeling far more vulnerable without the means to cover up. Alf's nature had become unpredictable. He delighted in my discomfort, getting a kind of vicarious thrill out of keeping me on edge. Even so, I had to admit, my enthusiasm for sex had been enhanced by Alf's challenges. The toys he bought me and the erotic movies we watched were gradually having his desired effect on me. Although I never dared to confess, one particularly turned me on.

We watched a video called 'The Story Of O.' one evening. Alf pointed out O's willingness to degrade herself for her lover as a virtue. He lectured me about the exquisite nature of humiliation, as if I should enjoy the way it would make me feel 'when' strangers became aware of my lack of underwear. The way he spoke rang alarm bells in my mind.

"When!" I repeated. "You've to be joking, surely." I giggled.

"You should be proud of your body, like O." He grinned. "I am."

Alf remained impassive, continuing to taunt me with the possibility of total exposure. Mortified by his constant hints that he might help me to get over my shyness by inviting one of his close friends around for a show. He wanted me to masturbate, for him and Dave, offering to blindfold me first. I broke down when he picked up the phone, largely because the thought of doing it for them actually excited me.

"Please don't, Tiger!" I sobbed. "This has gone far enough. I could never look Dave in the eye again." My body trembled. "I only do that kind of thing for you, on our own, Tiger. Nobody else."

We agreed to yet another compromise.

In the privacy of our home, I did my housework stark naked, early in the morning. Becoming accustomed to this, I ventured further into the day totally nude. We also had sex more often, three or four times a day and not only in the bedroom either. Our antics by then, had fewer limits. Once Alf got into one of his moods, refusal was not an option and the level of risk became irrelevant to both of us.

We were having sex in the lounge one day, when the doorbell suddenly rang. Fortunately, the drapes were closed on that occasion. Alf just carried on making love to me, acting as if we were alone, although we could hear a couple talking as they waited for us to open the door. I froze, scared to make a sound, forced to suppress the orgasmic squeal that was mere moments from my lips prior to the interruption. The two shadows at the door left, eventually, after what seemed like hours of excruciating tension. The delay to my orgasm almost overwhelmed me by the time I let go. I screamed, discovering that the danger factor had actually brought a thrilling new dimension into our sex life.

"You see! I told you so." Alf grinned excitedly. "Just go take a good look at yourself in the mirror! You loved it."

I was amazed by the image I saw. Absolutely radiant, my face aglow, I looked more youthful and vibrant. Apart from a hysterectomy scar, the following years had treated me well. I looked attractive without any clothing on. My shoulder length blonde hair looked soft and natural, no longer contradicted by body hair. My pink nipples stood perfectly erect, quivering beacons inviting attention. My slim figure had toned up magnificently, breasts firmer than they had been ten years ago, no cellulite at all. Unsightly elastic marks from wearing underwear had faded completely away. Even my clitoris was prominent and erect.

"Alright! You win again." I giggled, taking more pride.

Apart from leaving a thin floral house coat hanging behind the front door, in case Alf had some of his friends drop by, I remained nude by choice. Now comfortable with the exhilarating sensation of nakedness, I invented reasons to go out more often. Anxiety ceased markedly but I still reserved the right to choose longer dresses. I had a feeling that Alf would gleefully expose me to some unsuspecting stranger if I let him. I knew it would be only a matter of time before it happened. It was just like living with a ticking time bomb but the mere thought of such exposure kept me in a constant state of anxiety, needing more and more sexual stimulation from Alf, once we got home.

"God! I can't keep up with you anymore." He would complain.

Surprisingly, Alf allowed me to wear underwear for my trip, conceding that I would be on my own at the airport. We both agreed that closer personal scrutiny had become a fact of life for travellers since the terrorist activity first started last October.

I compromised with Alf, out of habit I guess.

As a result I'd chosen an ultra lightweight, pleated skirt and jacket combination in dressing for the trip to Brisbane. It had long been my favourite outfit although I'd never have dared to wear it without any underclothing in the past. The silk blouse was translucent, making a bra essential if I had to remove my jacket. Alf picked an old pair of panty girdle briefs for me, while I put on my favourite bra.

"You'll have to wear those." He held them up to check. "Nobody can see though those babies."

It felt ridiculous, putting them on. All my stockings were the thigh high, self supporting type which my husband preferred. 'I should have thrown that pair out long ago.' I fumed, but Alf insisted.

"It's those or none at all" He chuckled emphatically. "Make up your mind."

Alf had his way again.

It wasn't until I was on the flight, feeling restricted in my elastic panty girdle, that I decided that I couldn't stand wearing it for one minute longer. That pair was much too tight anyway. Yearning for the freedom that I had become accustomed to, I made my way to the toilet cubicle intending to dispense with them just for the remainder of the flight. Once removed, they were too bulky to fit into my make-up bag. With nowhere to conceal them, in a moment of madness, I flushed them down the toilet. The instant they vanished I regretted it, but it was too late. I walked carefully back to my seat feeling naughty, sensual but a heck of lot more comfortable. Several people looked sideways at me but I detected no adverse reaction. The lights were dim and I was too tired to care. Only when the aircraft was about to land, did the reality of what I had done kick in. Even from thousands of miles away my husband had managed to remain in control, I realised.

Continued tomorrow in Chapter Two; Tricia allows a stranger to seduce her.

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