I was anxious, nervous, and excited, opening my new post box to discover what mysteries awaited me. I knew it would be from “him,” and so it was with great anticipation that I removed the small, gift-box-type parcel, which looked like it could hardly contain anything at all. Once in the privacy of my car, I tore into the elegantly folded lining paper and neatly bowed ribbon to discover I was almost correct. Inside, was a tiny little skirt made of the flimsiest material I had ever seen. It was cute enough, and very pretty, but it was obviously not intended to cover very much at all. Included with the skirt was a handwritten note on beautiful stationery. I would wait to get home to read the note.
The “gift” had arrived after I had accepted a most unusual invitation, which went like this:
"To: 'Emma'
From: 'Bernie'
Date: 13/03/2008 10:40AM
Subject: Adventure
“You have been invited to enjoy the most thrilling sexual adventure of your life. This adventure will enable you to explore your darkest sexual desires. It promises to take you where you have never been.
To do this, I ask of you only one thing – total and complete submission.
This will not involve physical domination or abuse; however, it will require you to accept every instruction precisely and without challenge. You must allow yourself to feel every emotion that arises. Do not attempt to control anything. It is important that you do not do anything you are not instructed to do.”
I was normally quite assertive, but the concept of submission in the bedroom actually appealed to me. In fact, I was getting quite warm and moist reading the invitation. The package’s sender lived in a different city, and thus far, we had only corresponded by email and phone.
When I returned home, I was alone. I tried the skirt on, and was shocked to see that it barely covered my pussy by three inches. Did he really expect me to wear that? The material was a checked, pale blue. Wearing the flimsy material was going to be a challenge indeed; the slightest breeze would see the hem of it rising above my behind and exposing everything underneath. As I gazed at my image in the mirror, I wondered where this “adventure” would take me? What did he have in mind? How would he orchestrate it all?
I turned to the note and read.
“Hello Emma,
This is the beginning of your Adventure.
Enclosed is a skirt, which will be the basis of an outfit you will wear for this adventure. It will be up to you to complete the outfit to suit your tastes. I have only these conditions:
You will need to purchase a top and shoes to match this skirt. The top must button all the way down the front and the top button must be no higher than the bottom of your breasts. The bottom of the top should also cover the shirring on the skirt. The shoes must have a heel of no less than four inches. You should seek to create a smart, classy look using only these additional items. I will leave it to you to determine colors, size, and fit, etc.
Have fun shopping, and let me know when you have completed your purchases
Regards, Bernie”
Some outfit that would be, indeed! A flimsy skirt that hardly covered anything at all – and what it did cover could surely be seen through the material anyway – shoes tall enough to be called “fuck-me-pumps,” and a top that would most likely gape open at every movement. I would certainly draw attention dressed like that. I had accepted this invitation without knowing what I was getting into. Now I knew a little bit, and I couldn’t decide if I felt scared or excited. Whatever it was – I liked it.
The next few days were a blur; I couldn’t concentrate on anything but my “Adventure” and the outfit I had to construct. Could I wear it? Would I be too noticeable? Where would I find the other pieces? How would I match the color? How on earth could I make it look “classy”?
Three days later, I spent an afternoon at the boutiques. I selected a creme jacket that was reasonably snug around my breasts, fitted around my waist, and came down far enough to cover the shirring of the skirt, just as was instructed. Also, as instructed, the highest button was positioned right where my bra cups joined, exposing only the tiniest glimpses of strap. The shoes I selected were beautiful: creme colored, with sexy straps that tied at the ankle. I didn’t know how “smart and classy” the ensemble would be, but damn, I would look hot.
I was actually quite excited on the way home, feeling like a little girl who could not wait to try on her new outfit. And that is exactly what I did. As expected, the skirt was short, shorter than I usually wore, showing off my legs very nicely. The jacket complemented the skirt and provided an adequate level of coverage around my breasts. And the shoes, those little darlings, made my legs look even better. I looked good. But as I turned first right and then left, studying my reflection, I was just not sure I could wear this in public.
That evening, as instructed, I sent an email telling him that my shopping task was complete.
I waited. And I waited.
Nothing happened for about a week, then an email arrived, very short and succinct:
“To: ‘Emma’
From: ‘Bernie’ Date: 27/03/2008 12:13PM
Subject: Re: Adventure
You have been very prompt completing your first task. There is a parcel waiting for you at your post box. It contains additional instructions.”
I was a bundle of mixed emotions. Sitting at my computer, I was getting wet and my heart was beating faster and faster. What else could he possibly be sending me?
The next morning I arrived at the post office before they unlocked the doors. I smiled at the postman and my hand trembled as I unlocked my post box. The parcel that waited was similar in size to the first one. I began opening it on the way back to my car, but discretion got the better of me. After all, I had no idea what was in there. Once in my car, I finished tearing the rest of the wrapping away from the box and flipped the lid off.
Inside, was the same elegantly folded tissue paper and neatly tied ribbon. Tucked into the ribbon was the same elegant stationery penned with the familiar handwriting. I didn’t bother to read the note, as the remainder of the box’s contents became evident.
The first item I pulled out was an undergarment that only faintly resembled a bra. It was entirely cupless. The underwire of the garment was covered by white material and edged with lace. A chill went down my spine as I remembered the outfit I had put together under his instructions. He clearly intended for me to wear this “bra” with my outfit, and I was obviously going to be on show. Anyone who cared to look was going to be in for a nipple bonanza.
The next item I pulled from the box was a pair of silver balls, about the size of ping-pong balls, tied together with string. Beneath these lay two envelopes. One read, “Airplane Ticket” and the other, “Travel Instructions – do not open until advised.”
I turned back to the hand-written note. It read:
"Hello Emma,
Congratulations on coming this far. I assume that by now you are thoroughly intrigued. You will already have seen the contents of the parcel and are probably wondering what will happen from here.
Let me fill you in.
The bra is obviously part of your outfit; so, too, are the Duo Balls. Both items are to be worn on the day of your adventure. The airplane ticket is a return trip to Melbourne. You may open this at any time.
The other envelope contains your travel instructions, and you must not open this until the day before you travel. You should by now have all the items that you will need to complete this Adventure.
Your last task of preparation is to remove all of your pubic hair by way of waxing, no more than two days before your departure date.
Regards, Bernie"
I sat back against the car seat and closed my eyes. My clit throbbed and my pussy was so wet, my panties were soaked and, I was sure, threatening to show through my trousers. I had to get home.
My legs trembled as I drove home. I ran into the house and peeled my trousers and panties off before I had even reached my bedroom. It had been a long time since my senses had reacted like this and I was not going to let this opportunity go by without enjoying it. I tended to my aching need.
Nervous expulsion and two mind-blowing orgasms left me with very little energy. Spent, I lay in my rumpled sheets with my eyes closed. It was then that I realized: I had committed myself to dress up in an absurd outfit for a relative stranger, travel to another city, and make myself vulnerable to this stranger’s every whim. On top of this, I expected to then travel home, as if nothing had happened.
Shocked as I was by the strangeness of my own actions and situation, I was even more surprised to find that I was horny again. I popped out of bed and called the beautician.
The day before my flight I unsealed the final envelope. There was a one-page set of instructions and another envelope that read: “Airplane Instructions – open when onboard.” My pre-travel instructions were typed.
"Hello Emma,
It is now only 24 hours before your Adventure begins. This is your last chance to pull out. It would be completely understandable if you decided, even at this late stage, to change your mind.
Assuming you do not back out…
Tomorrow, lay out your outfit so that you can clearly see what you will be wearing.
Pack anything that you will need for your own personal grooming, and any security items such as credit card, licence, cash, etc. Keep in mind that after you get to the airport, you won’t have to spend any money. Remember to pack your Airplane Instructions.
Bathe luxuriously; a bubble bath might be a good idea. Spoil yourself. You may play near your private parts, but under no circumstances are you to touch your nipples, clitoris, or slide your fingers inside your pussy lips.
When you have finished your bath, put your favorite perfume, Burberry, under your breasts and on the outside of your vagina lips. Insert the Duo Balls inside your vagina. Once they are in give them a little tug to ensure they are not going to fall out. You can then put on your bra and shoes.
At this point, stop and admire yourself in the mirror. Notice how your legs tighten in the high heels and your breasts jut out, begging to be noticed. After this, you may put on your skirt and top. There is no additional item of clothing that may be added beyond this point.
When you get to the Airport you are to ask for a seat as near to the middle of the plane as possible. When you are on board and seated, you may open your Airplane Instructions.
Regards, Bernie"
I set the note down. My face was flushed and my hands were shaking. Twenty-four hours was going to be a long time. I read that letter another five times during the day, and every time, my body responded.
The next morning, I followed my instructions to a tee – enjoying the game in spite of myself. I lay my outfit out on my bed like a school girl getting ready for her first day of class. I looked at the tissue-like skirt and remembered my initial thought – one puff of wind was all it would take to render me unclothed. I looked out the window, relieved to see a dead calm – unlike my insides.
My bath was full and I hopped in. Somehow, the man knew me well – I loved baths, and this one did help to calm my nerves. I stayed in until the water turned cold, gently teasing myself with finger and thought. It was just as well, as it was time to put those balls inside me and the lubrication would be quite useful.
I stepped out the bath, purposefully dried off, and dressed in the order that I had been instructed. The balls slipped in easily and moved into place, seemingly of their own accord. They felt heavy and I felt strangely full. After giving them a little tug, it was obvious that if I stayed this aroused, they were going to create their own distractions.
Bra and shoes came next, and this outfit was starting to take shape. I stopped to take a look and had to admit, I liked what I saw. Tall and slim, with perky breasts – jutting out, seeking attention, just as he had written. I slid the skirt up and on – it felt as light as air. The jacket went on over it and I was starting to feel a little more secure. However, I had tried this on with my standard bra and had not allowed for the “lift” and openness provided by this shelf of a bra. My breasts just kept pushing the damn thing open. More than one person was going to get an eyeful of nipple today.
At the airport, dutifully, I asked for a seat as close to the middle of the plane as possible. I was getting a lot of attention from all of the men onboard; they all seemed to be smiling at my breasts and the two apparent nipples just aching for something to suck on them.
My nipples weren’t the only things aching. The balls were moving around inside me and my pussy was on fire -- swollen, and wet. It was a constant effort to keep those things from slipping out and bouncing along the ground in front of me. I was not going to let that happen. The constant pressure served to increase the sense of fullness and added to the excitement. It was a self-fulfilling circle and I was stuck in the middle of it.
I found my seat and made myself comfortable while everyone around me got organized and settled in. It was time to see what those last instructions would be. I felt the plane gain altitude as I peeled the envelope open and pulled the instructions out. The lettering was in a huge print and could be read from ten feet away:
"You are now on the last leg of your journey to Melbourne where your Sexual Adventure will take place. I trust you enjoyed the Adventure so far.
The flight is only a short one, however, you should ensure you are comfortable. When everyone is settled, stand up and make your way to the toilet. Remember to reach up and take your cosmetic bag with you. When you make your way to the aisle make sure you face the people seated next to you.
Once you are in the toilet, remove one of the balls and allow it to hang between your legs. The other one is to remain inside you. When you return, replace your cosmetic bag in the overhead bin and make your way back to your seat, again facing everybody as you move past.
When you sit down, make sure that your skirt is flipped up behind you so that your bare bottom is in direct contact with the seat.
In Melbourne, there will be a car waiting for you to take you to your hotel. Your room number is 609. Check in and go to the room. There will be a blindfold, which you will put on. Stand in the middle of the room and wait."
My mouth was dry and my face felt beat-red. The guy beside me had tried to start up conversation and was now idly trying to read my instructions. I was franticly trying to hide them. My stomach was churning and my knees had begun to shake. This set of tasks felt impossible. My skirt covered so little as it was, and when I reached up to get my bag the skirt was going to ride up even higher. Not to mention that the people sitting next to me would be at eye-level with my hairless and panty-less pussy. And dear god, how far would that ball hang down? Would my skirt be long enough to cover it?
I sat and waited for the seatbelt sign to turn off, which I hoped would give me time to get used to the idea. However, I just got more and more nervous. Would I never truly be able to do this? I reminded myself I had committed to doing everything I was told. Silly me, but I was committed.
The little bell sounded and the seatbelt sign went off. It was now or never. I unlatched my seatbelt and stood up, aware that every movement would expose my breasts to all and sundry, and that my skirt would provide little coverage while I was leaning forward to stand. Everyone within eyesight of me would be watching my every move.
I felt the strange gazes on me. My knees were shaking. I slid out into the aisle, avoiding eye contact with as many people as was possible. It was time for the real show to begin – time for me to get my cosmetic bag. I reached up and into the overhead bin, easily pulling it down as quickly as possible. I felt the rush of exposure and air up between my legs. As I turned, I could see that everybody was watching me now. I walked quickly to the toilet.
I made the adjustments to the balls and cleaned up. Despite all my fear, I was as horny as hell. Every one of my senses was on fire. One touch to my clit would have sent me into instant orgasm, the likes of which I would never be able to keep quiet. As commanded, I resisted the urge to touch myself, and made my way back to my seat.
It seemed that everyone was waiting for me to come out, and they were all smiling expectantly. The extra movement of that loose ball forced me to squeeze even harder to keep its partner secured inside of me. This only made the sensation between my lips even greater. I was going to orgasm any minute, and I had not even touched the damn thing.
The captive audience on the plane enjoyed the show of me putting my cosmetic bag away, and I turned so as to gain access to my seat. Surely those close to me could smell my sex by now. It was virtually running down my legs and those balls were about to fall on the floor any minute. The sensation was excruciating, yet somehow more pleasurable than anything I had ever felt.
The people in my row shuffled their feet in and I squeezed past them, facing their way. With their face only inches from my pussy, I felt sure everyone could see straight through the skirt and that they were staring straight at the hottest, wettest pussy there had ever been. How was I going to spin around and flip my skirt up without flashing this hot, little fun-parlor for even more viewing pleasure?
The guys next to me were certainly waiting, and only made a slight pretence of reading their airline magazines, lifting their eyebrows as I approached and making sure they knew where the bottom of my skirt was. I stepped to my seat and prepared to do my little spin, hoping the skirt would balloon upwards while I sat my butt down. It worked quite well, except that the front of my skirt was pulled backwards and, as I sat, the hem rode up my thigh to an impossible point almost completely exposing my pussy. I need not have worried though, as both guys either side of me were eagerly watching my jacket open as I sat down. They got a great view of my erect nipples instead...
Stay tuned for "Interstate Adventure 2," which will be published Friday, February 6th.
Originally published January 2009