Made to Show My Curves: Too Much to Hide (BBW, Forced Exhibition, Public Humiliation, Spanking)
Romance, Erotica
| Author: | Miranda Cruz | ISBN: | 9781311500809 |
| Publisher: | Miranda Cruz | Publication: | July 3, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Miranda Cruz |
| ISBN: | 9781311500809 |
| Publisher: | Miranda Cruz |
| Publication: | July 3, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Her submission is personal, but her humiliation will be public …
Since coming to live with her dominant Jonathon, neglect and boredom have become things of Erica's past. When she finishes her to do list and goes to him for a little excitement and attention, little does she know that he has in mind will bring her as much excitement and attention as she will be able to handle. Although Jonathon begins their outing by bribing Erica with a gift from a sex shop, he is well aware that she secretly enjoys his hobby of putting her in compromising and often humiliating public situations. Her secret's safe with him, of course, but as for the rest of what she might try to keep covered up … it's all fair game.
Excerpt:
"Erica?" I heard his voice call out softly.
"Here, sir," I said through the crack.
"Pass me out your clothes, please."
I squirmed as conflicting emotions of dismay and excitement fought within me. He didn't want to give me any choice. He didn't want me to see what he had picked out for me until I had already committed and until I couldn't say no.
Reluctantly, I folded my sweater, skirt and blouse and passed them under the door.
"Panties and bra, too, Erica," he insisted.
A knee-jerk objection caught in my throat and I stared helplessly at myself in the little changing room mirror. I didn't know if I was ready for this, and yet ... I trusted him. It was so much easier to just be his, do what he wanted and lose myself in the aftermath, good and bad, without any of the responsibility. It felt so good, being his, that it almost didn't matter. What happened happened.
"Yes, sir," I said, not trying to hide the quaver in my voice. In the end, I always did as he asked, but I wanted him to know that this prospect frightened me more than a little.
I stepped out of my panties and unclasped my bra, trying to imagine myself in the comfort of our home and not in the back of an unfamiliar department store with nothing to cover myself.
"Thank you," he said as he took the precious garments from my proffered hand. There was a rustling, and then a little bundle replaced them under the door frame.
I picked it up and waited for more. Perhaps it just looked small. I unrolled the cloth and spread it on the bench. My heart sank. What I had at first taken for one garment was in fact two. The tank top was simple, unadorned, and very thin. When I rolled the cloth in my hand, I could see my fingers on the other side. Folded inside the top was a skirt. The fabric was a bit thicker, but it was so short that it did not stretch more than halfway from my wrist to my elbow. I looked at them in dismay, and turned back to the door.
"Isn't there more, sir?"
"No more," he said. "Now hurry up and put them on. We have a bus to catch and we still need to check out."
I pulled the top on first. It really was as see-through as I had feared. For better or worse, I had the body type of a woman who simply can't go braless without attracting attention, and the state of my breasts was at its most unmistakable now within this flimsy cloth. Even I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without staring at them, so what on earth were other people going to do? It seemed like nothing I did could get it to hang in a normal way. It insisted on clinging to me in all the most embarrassing places.
At least the skirt wasn't see-through, for the most part. On the other hand, it was short enough that sitting without crossing my legs was out of the question, and bending over would be, well, even more out of the question – out of the question ten times over. I turned halfway around and tried to convince myself that having a bit of ass showing even when standing wouldn't be something people would notice. Sometimes it was nice having a lot of ass in the caboose, and I knew that it drove Jonathon crazy, but right now I would have given a lot for that part of me to be a little less prominent.
"Alright," I said. "I'm coming out."
Her submission is personal, but her humiliation will be public …
Since coming to live with her dominant Jonathon, neglect and boredom have become things of Erica's past. When she finishes her to do list and goes to him for a little excitement and attention, little does she know that he has in mind will bring her as much excitement and attention as she will be able to handle. Although Jonathon begins their outing by bribing Erica with a gift from a sex shop, he is well aware that she secretly enjoys his hobby of putting her in compromising and often humiliating public situations. Her secret's safe with him, of course, but as for the rest of what she might try to keep covered up … it's all fair game.
Excerpt:
"Erica?" I heard his voice call out softly.
"Here, sir," I said through the crack.
"Pass me out your clothes, please."
I squirmed as conflicting emotions of dismay and excitement fought within me. He didn't want to give me any choice. He didn't want me to see what he had picked out for me until I had already committed and until I couldn't say no.
Reluctantly, I folded my sweater, skirt and blouse and passed them under the door.
"Panties and bra, too, Erica," he insisted.
A knee-jerk objection caught in my throat and I stared helplessly at myself in the little changing room mirror. I didn't know if I was ready for this, and yet ... I trusted him. It was so much easier to just be his, do what he wanted and lose myself in the aftermath, good and bad, without any of the responsibility. It felt so good, being his, that it almost didn't matter. What happened happened.
"Yes, sir," I said, not trying to hide the quaver in my voice. In the end, I always did as he asked, but I wanted him to know that this prospect frightened me more than a little.
I stepped out of my panties and unclasped my bra, trying to imagine myself in the comfort of our home and not in the back of an unfamiliar department store with nothing to cover myself.
"Thank you," he said as he took the precious garments from my proffered hand. There was a rustling, and then a little bundle replaced them under the door frame.
I picked it up and waited for more. Perhaps it just looked small. I unrolled the cloth and spread it on the bench. My heart sank. What I had at first taken for one garment was in fact two. The tank top was simple, unadorned, and very thin. When I rolled the cloth in my hand, I could see my fingers on the other side. Folded inside the top was a skirt. The fabric was a bit thicker, but it was so short that it did not stretch more than halfway from my wrist to my elbow. I looked at them in dismay, and turned back to the door.
"Isn't there more, sir?"
"No more," he said. "Now hurry up and put them on. We have a bus to catch and we still need to check out."
I pulled the top on first. It really was as see-through as I had feared. For better or worse, I had the body type of a woman who simply can't go braless without attracting attention, and the state of my breasts was at its most unmistakable now within this flimsy cloth. Even I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without staring at them, so what on earth were other people going to do? It seemed like nothing I did could get it to hang in a normal way. It insisted on clinging to me in all the most embarrassing places.
At least the skirt wasn't see-through, for the most part. On the other hand, it was short enough that sitting without crossing my legs was out of the question, and bending over would be, well, even more out of the question – out of the question ten times over. I turned halfway around and tried to convince myself that having a bit of ass showing even when standing wouldn't be something people would notice. Sometimes it was nice having a lot of ass in the caboose, and I knew that it drove Jonathon crazy, but right now I would have given a lot for that part of me to be a little less prominent.
"Alright," I said. "I'm coming out."
