My bottom felt warm and cozy, bared against my car seat. I wore no panties. My skirt was the shortest I'd ever dared to wear – a red tartan flannel wraparound that barely reached the top of my thighs. I also wore a red silk blouse, loosely buttoned in front, the ends tied just under my ribcage to expose my midriff and back. I wore no bra. My nipples stood at attention, constantly brushing against the soft material. White, thigh-high stockings and six inch, black elevator pumps completed my outfit.
I wiggled my bared thighs and bottom in the car seat. The sensation of my bare skin on the rough cloth, along with the knowledge that I was driving in public almost nude, sent a prickle of pleasure up my spine. In just a few, short months I had become quite an exhibitionist.
It was late afternoon as I drove to Blackheart's house. The warm air from my open window ruffled my blouse, at times pulling it tight across my breasts.
Blackheart wasn't expecting me and I hoped he hadn't gotten home yet, so I could surprise him. Several months back, I had handcuffed myself up in his school office. That was a memorable experience for both of us. This afternoon, I intended to create another memory.
As I drove, I didn't look out at others on the road. I know that guys find me attractive, and a lot of them stare at me when I'm in the car next to them. For the moment, I was too self conscious, wearing almost nothing, to look around and see if anyone was watching me. My insides churned, trying to turn embarrassment into excitement. Deep down, I knew that the only people who could really see me, were the truck drivers, who could peer down into my car and see how short my skirt really was. I glanced down, mortified to see my skirt had ridden up my thighs, exposing the barest glimpse between my legs.
I pulled the front of the skirt down as best as I could, trying to hide more of my thigh than the skirt wanted to. A sudden thrill grabbed me as I realized how exposed I was, even partially hidden in my car. I took a lot of back streets, trying to avoid driving alongside a pick up or other truck.
I arrived on Blackheart's street just as the sun dipped below the horizon, lighting up the clouds with red, yellow and orange. No car was in his driveway and I realized that he might have already arrived home and parked in his garage. But no, I remembered he used his garage as a private photo studio and never parked in it. I was safe for the moment.
I parked along the street, a few houses away from Blackheart's. I wanted to surprise him and I didn't want him to recognize my car parked in front of his house or in his driveway. Taking a deep breath to gather my courage, I took my small purse from the seat beside me, looked around to make sure that the neighbors weren't standing around in the street (I couldn't avoid them if they were looking out of their windows), and stepped out of my car.
I felt very exposed as I headed toward Blackheart's house. I knew that the skirt I wore rode up in the back and exposed my cheeks just a bit. I hoped that if anyone did see me, they wouldn't notice my lack of panties, allowing my pussy to peek out from underneath the skirt every now and again. I walked as quickly and nonchalantly as I could up the sidewalk and into the front portico of the house.
I knew there was a small, enclosed area by the front door that was not visible from the street. That was where I decided to wait for Blackheart to get home. I checked around the street one last time, to reassure myself that no one noticed my rather awkward attempt to hurry along.
I dropped to my knees, my heart suddenly pounding with excitement. It was a strange feeling, the rising excitement because I was now going to make myself more vulnerable than driving nearly naked in my car. The cement felt a bit rough on my knees, and I relished the sensation. Setting my purse beside me, I opened it to draw out the means of rendering myself helpless on Blackheart's doorstep.
I had recently bought a cute, little red collar made out of garment leather – soft and supple. It had a single O ring at the front and a buckle at the back. The only problem with it, was that I couldn't lock the collar on. It had no place for a padlock. The color and size, though, matched my red silk blouse and red tartan skirt. It felt wonderful around my neck as I buckled it in and tucked the strap in. I have all but decided to wear a collar or choker all of the time, but I still hesitate a bit, knowing that every man who sees me will judge me to be some kind of slut. I still can't think of myself in those terms, even though my clothes usually scream the fact anymore.
I wanted to keep the bondage simple and Blackheart's surprise pleasant, so I opted for a single pair of handcuffs and leg irons. I would be completely helpless, since I had deliberately left a key to the cuffs at home. Reaching behind me, I clicked the leg irons around each ankle and tightening them just to the point of biting into my skin. The chain on these was not long enough to walk well, even with a shortened stride. I was stuck at the front door until rescued.
I decided at the last minute before leaving my apartment to bring a blindfold. I was really unsure about my nerve, sitting out in a semi-public area without being able to see what or who might approach. The thought of wearing the blindfold, however, was enough to make me wet just thinking about it, so I brought it along. The red garment leather matched the collar. It had fleece inside and was quite effective in blocking out all vision. I buckled it around my head, pulling my black hair through it , leaving the hair to hang loosely over my shoulders. I pushed the blindfold up a bit to take one, last look around, then settled it into place.
(tags: self bondage skirt, naked in collar self bondage, exposed girl in self bondage)
With the blindfold on, the world changed around me. I was no longer able to see, and my vulnerability and near nakedness, outside a door, along a public street, suddenly became clear in my mind. I could hear every sound, all of them menacing, though I knew that I was, at least for the moment, alone and shielded from view.
It took a lot of willpower to squeeze the handcuffs around my wrists. The first wrist wasn't too bad. I snapped it closed and tightened it without my hands trembling. It was difficult, to say the least, to thread the chain around that of the leg irons, and to reach my wrist into the other cuff. I had no thought of turning my wrist one way or another to make myself feel more vulnerable. I merely forced my wrist in place and then flipped the claw over to snap it closed.
The feeling of utter helplessness overcame me and I felt afraid that I would be discovered at any minute, not by Blackheart, which was my intention, but by some passing neighbor, one of the kids who lived along the street, or perhaps a police officer, called to investigate the mysterious slut who had parked her naked bottom on the neighbor's doorstep.
It was difficult to sit still. I jumped at the slightest sound: a car passing along the street, birds flying past, shouting in the distance. I jerked my head back and forth, trying to tell if the latest sound I heard was someone on the sidewalk, at the driveway, in the portico. I was sure that a dozen eyes watched me: the neighbor lady across the street rushing her kids in and away from the strange, half-naked girl; some preteen boys, sneaking onto the portico to catch a glimpse of the babe; the local emo girls gathering around, in awe of their new role model.
After a few moments, when I wasn't immediately discovered, I calmed enough to notice the bite of steel in my ankles and wrists where I had strained them in sympathy with my ears at all of the imaginary dangers. I calmed my breathing. I put thoughts of random discovery out of my mind, and realized once again, that I loved the combined feeling of helplessness, the possibility of discovery, and the sheer guts to dress in clothes that revealed more than they hid.
I settled into a heightened state of awareness. My skin tingled with excitement. My nipples rose and tightened again. My pussy grew warm and tingly. I was aware of the slightest brush of silk blouse against my torso. I felt the tartan scratch along my thighs. My legs cramped under me, complaining of the hard cement.
I lost myself in pure feeling when I suddenly startled to hear footsteps coming up the walkway. I spun my head to hear more only to face silence. Had I heard footsteps, or only imagined them? I waited, motionless, fixed in the agony of the unknown.
Without warning, without sound, hands grabbed me, lifted me up and flung me across broad shoulders. I yelped and almost screamed. Who had found me? Was this Blackheart? Or some stranger come to carry me away captive? Would I be raped? Who would stop this unknown Master of my fate?
Soft laughter broke the tension. It was Blackheart who had picked me up and unceremoniously held me in a fireman's carry. “Well!” he finally said. “I see that you still have a few surprises left.” He slapped my bottom, then roughly pinched it as I let out another cry of pain. And sudden relief at falling into the right hands.
He was still laughing as he carried me inside and shut the door behind him.
Blackheart's Note: It's such an amazing thing to find on my doorstep such women as Alexia, barely dressed and in handcuffs. Such an opportunity doesn't come along every day and I took the matter in hand, spanked it a little, and found out just how long it could take before I let it come. To top off the evening, since she had thought of it first, I shackled her up outside on my portico for the rest of the night. This time, however, she didn't have quite as much to cover herself up since I'd taken away her clothes.
That would not be the only time she spent the night naked on my doorstep.
