Public Play/Exposure

In my most recent story line post, Getting out of Town, I was challenged by a reader about the public nature of a scene or scenario I described. I was very happy to receive the challenge, the question:

I truly don't have a problem with the bondage in the car, but I draw the line at exposing myself in public, or any displays of a blatantly sexual nature such as inserting a bullet.
Can you explain how you determine what's healthy for the sub, as well as what you deem is acceptable for public viewing, and in the presence of whom?

"I suspect I draw the line very near where you do. You can imagine that not a lot is exposed pulling a pair of panties up over her legs, lifting her bottom slightly off the seat, and sliding them up under her dress. She is sitting down in the seat and the man is knelt down beside her."

"The simple and slight action of slipping a small vibrator down inside her panties is completely obscured by the car, the tinted windows, her hands, her clothing and such. I did not conceive of it as a blatantly sexual act, but rather a clandestine, private moment."

"Do I think it has potential for embarrassment or humiliation? I most certainly do, and counted on it for the energy between them, for the embarrassed excitement she would feel from it, and for him."


This has stuck in my mind and I have been thinking about public play. Not the kind of public play you encounter at a dungeon or BDSM play party, but the kind of interaction between people, that takes place out there in the world. There is a subtle, or not so subtle, intimacy between two people that can be enhanced by the potential for exposure, or discovery, or observation. A kind of play or interaction that is not blatantly obvious to others, but places the submissive in a situation where they are being treated in a very private way in a very public venue.

I recall a story of a girl who was being so obstinate, and so unwilling to disconnect from her upset about an event, that she could not be in the moment with her owner. He was wanting her to let go of the matter, set it aside, and to enjoy a lovely evening out on the town. Even though she knew she was acting that way, she chose to continue. She eventually earned herself a spanking, and it was administered then and there, on the sidewalk, in a mixed residential/restaurant neighborhood, and was observed by, others. At least one person actually was standing on their front porch, watching her get a fairly sound spanking, and I recall distinctly her humiliation and embarrassment that this would be carried out in front of "ordinary people". (I tried to go back and find the exact details, but I think my memory serves well enough).

Many months ago I wrote about an actual event, Hand Controls, where a girl exposed her breasts in a casino, in front of many people, controlled by a man near by. One comment suggested that it was inappropriate. I confess I certainly enjoyed the sight of that beautiful young Asian girl, but I would not conduct myself in that manner in real life. I have a high regard for public decency, and am quite conservative regarding what I would allow to be viewed in public.

But, these examples raise the question, Where are the boundaries? Certainly, there is excitement, arousal, titillation, pleasure, fun, any number of feelings and emotions to be explored by adding an element of casual observation by uninvolved onlookers. There is embarrassment, humility, Humiliation, and excitement that grows from that public exposure. But there is also risk of ridicule, censure, perhaps even arrest for indecent behavior in public.

There is a great opportunity for enhancing the experience of dominance and submission by taking it outside, into the public arena, or on the edge of the public arena. There are any number of small, or large, but still a subtlety of control/action a dominant can require of a girl in a semi-public way, but somewhere there is a line that can be crossed where you go beyond public decency, but where is that line? Who decides?

One Day Visit - Getting out of Town

Continued from the bar
Having settled the bar tab, he got down off his stool and offered her his hand. She climbed down, stepped into the aisle way and he gestured, indicating the way to the main doors. "Let's go," he said. As she started walking, he dropped in behind her, watching her walk, noticing how the back of her dress flipped up against her bottom with every step. "She is so lovely," he thought to himself, "and mine." He opened the door and guided her back out onto Fremont Street. They stood and waited for the light to change so they could cross over to the next section. While they waiting, he put his arm around her shoulder, then pull it back slightly so his hand was on the back of her neck, tangling in her hair.

As they crossed the street and headed down the lane, he used that grip on her hair to guide her around and through the pedestrians and other obstructions. Then a small vendor stand caught his eye and he guided her in that direction. As they stepped up he saw that it was a street artist drawing the likeness of a pretty young girl, sitting in a chair. He told the artist they would like to be next. She looked very surprised, started to protest, and he put his hand over her mouth, and said, "Shhhhh, it will be something special for you, to remember." Again, he stopped her as she started to protest again. "Stand here and wait, he should be done in a few minutes. I will be right back." While she stood and waited, he drifted over to another vendor stand, and was looking over bracelets, and necklaces and anklets. He made a quick purchase, and returned to find her just sitting down in the artist’s subject chair, as he was clearing his sketch pad to begin.

As she sat there still, he leaned over from behind her and told her to adjust her posture. He whispered into her ear, "Cross your ankles, and tuck your feet back under the chair, to one side." She moved as he instructed. "Cross your wrists, and rest them on your lap." She did as asked, and he could tell by the way she looked back at him and down at her wrists, that she fully expected he was going to bind them. When he did not do so, she let out a sigh that he interpreted as relief, thankful that he would not embarrass her so in public. He stood patiently behind her as the artist went about his work. From time to time, he would whisper things in her ear. "Do you think he knows you are naked under your dress?" "Think about what we are likely to be doing two hours from now." "Smile for him, I want him to capture that slutty look in your eyes." "Think about how wet you are now, do you think he has any idea what you are feeling?" "Do you think he finds you as sexy and appealing as I do?" "I think he wants you."

The artist said he had finished the portrait, and the man went around, looking at the results. She started to get up, but he gestured to her to remain still in her seat while he went and discussed it with the artist. While she remained seated he went and looked at the result. He was very pleased with the beautiful way he had captured the profile of her face, the way her hair fell onto her cheeks and her slightly sardonic grin. He told the artist he was very happy with it, and asked that he roll it up and put it in one of the mailing tube he had stacked under his little work table. The artist asked if she did not want to see it first, and the man said he would show it too her later, that it was intended to be a surprise of sorts, and paid and thanked him. With the tube under his arm, he put his hand out to her and helped her up out of the seat. She kept looking at the tube, but he said, "I will show it to you later; we need to get on with our day for now." He took hold of her wrist and they walked back to the parking garage to get the car.

When they got back to the Fitzgerald's parking garage, the same 20-something valet was there to take their ticket. He could see that the boy was very happy to see her again, and that she seemed embarrassed by the boy’s attention. The man handed the boy the valet ticket and some folded bills, and the boy went off to get the car. While they stood in the crowd, waiting for the car, the man reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out a delicate gold chain anklet. He knelt down, rubbed his hand down the calf of her left leg so that she moved it slightly forward, resting her hand on his shoulder, and he fastened the bracelet around her ankle. He continued to hold onto her leg, and admired it. He looked around and was pleased to notice that several other men also appreciated the look of her leg, and perhaps the anklet also.

When the car arrived, the valet got out of the drivers seat, came around and opened the passenger door. He looked at the girl expectantly, extending his hand to help her into the seat. The man took her hand, led her up to the car and guided her into the seat. He placed the drawing tube onto the back seat. He turned, and took hold of the valet’s outstretched hand and shook it, "Thank you, very much." He turn back to the girl, noticed she was reaching for the seat belt, and put out his hand and stopped her. "Just a moment sweetheart", he reached under the passenger seat and pulled out the cotton bikini panties he had stuffed under the seat earlier. "Put these back on." She looked around at the crowd of people standing waiting for their cars and hesitated. "Put them on", he repeated. She sloughed off her shoes, reached down, put her feet through the leg holes and pulled the panties up her legs. "That's it, just lift your bottom up off the seat and pull them all the way up." She did as he instructed, and it left her skirt gathered up around her lap, with some of the panties plainly visible as she sat there. She started to straighten her dress, but he touched her arm to indicate she should just stay still, exactly as she was.

The man got up and turned, to find the valet boy still standing at the door, clearly intent on the show he was seeing. The man thanked him again, and took control of the car door and closed it. Leaving the boy standing there beside the car, he went around and got into the driver's seat, and closed the door. However, instead of starting the car, he reached into his pocket and took out the small satin bag. He opened the bag, took out the little bullet vibrator, plugged in the remote control wire and handed it to the girl. "Put this into your panties, like you did earlier this morning." She took it in her hand but did not move to place it as he instructed. He saw that she was glancing over to her right, and there stood the valet, still looking down into the car. "Don't be bashful now sweetheart. Put the vibrator in place." As she slowly complied, he reached under his seat and retrieved the rope he had tied her ankles with earlier in the day. When she had the vibrator in place he reached over, and wrapped the rope around her legs, just above her knees, and tied a knot to hold her thighs and knees together. He took hold of the remote control and set it in the center console. He leaned over and kissed her, and then looked out the window, and waved good bye to the valet boy, who was still standing beside the car, slack jawed, with a look of bewilderment on his face. He started the car and drove off.

As they turned out of the parking garage and pulled up to the first red light, he turned to the girl and saw an odd look on her face. It seemed a combination of arousal and confusion at the same time. He put his hand up to the side of her head, combed his fingers through her hair, and heard her make a little humming sound, and then a moan of satisfaction. She leaned her head against the palm of his hand as he rubbed her cheek, and he slipped his thumb into her mouth. He felt her tongue slowly swirl around his thumb, and heard her soft moaning sound. He looked up and saw that the light had turned green. He withdrew his hand from her face, put the car in gear, and fingered the remote control switch to Medium. He heard her squeal over the sound of the car’s motor, he smiled, and once again they headed off into the Las Vegas Boulevard tourist traffic.

He traveled south on  Las Vegas Boulevard, looking for the road that led out of town, the road that would take them to quiet and solitude.  As he blended into traffic he lowered the remote to Low.  After a few short blocks he found the turn that headed out toward Red Rock Canyon.

One Day Visit - the Car/the Bar

"The true Man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Continued from Breakfast
Holding her arm, he escorted her out the doors of the Gold Coast to the courtyard, and on toward the parking garage. He shifted his hold from her arm back to her wrist, and he felt her bristle for a moment. He glanced down at her with a questioning look in his eyes. He saw her expression change and she settled into stride as they walked out to the car. He unlocked the passenger door for her, and was thinking about using the ropes to bind her again, but grinned as another idea took over.

He opened her door, but before she could get in, he pulled her back slightly and moved past her. He sat down on the edge of the seat himself, with his legs out of the car, and taking her hands, pulled her close, up between his knees. He put his hands on the outsides of her thighs and moved them up under her dress until he felt her cotton-covered hips. He looked up at her and smiled, and hooked his fingers into the elastic of the leg bands, twisted them in his grip and pulled her panties down over her thighs, past her calves and down to her ankles. Instinctively, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder and lifted first one foot, and then the other - so he could remove them completely. He placed them under the passenger seat, looked out at her and could clearly see her, silhouetted through her dress with the sun back-lighting her.

Taking her hands to balance himself, he rose up out of the seat, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, moved a hand on the back of her head and held her to him. He felt her arms move around his waist and onto the small of his back and they stood in a quiet embrace, while his hands felt the now smooth and unclad contours of her bottom.

After a couple minutes he turned, guided her into the car seat, helped her with the seat belt and closed the door. He went around and got into the car also. He reached over and hooked his hand in the back of her far knee, pulled and twisted her in the seat so her knees were facing him, half up on the cushion, semi-sideways. He pushed his hand well up between her thighs, and she moved her legs to accommodate his presence.

He pulled out of the hotel, crossed over the freeway and drove up the strip slowly, enjoying the scenery. He continued to play with her legs, teasing and tempting her, moving his hand further up between her thighs, particularly when they were stopped at a light and there was a swirl of pedestrians around the car, many of them looking in and staring at the scene within. Several times she urged him to move his hand, but he was intent on tempting the glances of pedestrians at crowded intersections. Several times she shivered and moaned as his rough finger pressed all the way up onto her.

When they finally covered the distance up the strip, crossing over into the old downtown area, nearly an hour had passed. He could see she clearly was feeling the effects of his constant touch, the teasing, and the embarrassment and humiliation of having had so many onlookers glancing in on their seemingly private activities in such a public way. Finally, they pulled into the Fitzgerald's valet parking, and he went around to help her out of the car, to see she had turned in her seat and had her legs half out of the car, her dress still hiked up as he had pushed it, and her knees were an unladylike distance apart. A 20-something valet was standing in front of her gawking. Yes, he thought, she is gorgeous, and sultry looking, and she was being very provocative with the boy. He stood and watched for a minute, then stepped between them, offered her his hand, and lifted her out of the car.

He once again took her by the wrist and they walked through the first casino, out onto, and up the length of Fremont Street, to the Golden Nugget. The entire distance, as had been the case at breakfast, they drew more curious glances from people who noticed how he held her and guided her along, as she seemed to walk a half step behind him, appearing to almost be pulled along.

They walked into the casino, past the barkers and players club hustlers and found their way to the bar, a beautiful old massive, dark wood bar back and marble bar top. He pulled out one of the bar stools for her, gave her a hand up onto the stool and placed his hand on the inside of her thigh. She immediately responded by letting his hand in and she adjusted the hem of her dress up further and further as his hand measured the spot for her, far beyond where she was comfortable, but she complied. He stood beside her until the bartender arrived; he ordered her a gin and tonic, and then asked for directions to the restrooms. "Wait here, very quietly," he said, as he excused himself. He went off in the direction of the mens room, and looking back, he noticed the middle aged man sitting on the other side of her giving her several glances, and he seemed to be looking to start a conversation.

He grinned to himself, imagining her discomfort with the attention from this stranger, and turned and walked away. When he came out he decided to kill a few minutes, looking in at the blackjack tables, but from a position where he can oversee, and the man’s efforts to start a conversation. He could see she glanced around nervously from time to time, but by and large sat still, slowly sipping her drink, seeming to try and ignore the man's attempts to strike up a conversation, clearly uncomfortable with the way he was looking her up and down.

When he returned, he walked up behind her, pushed his hands into her hair at the back of her head, pressing it forward and kissed and nibbled roughly at the back of her neck. She purred her approval and appreciation. He raised his head up, buried his nose in her hair, and moved his hands to her shoulders. She reached over and moved her pocketbook from the stool next to her, where she had placed it to save him a seat, and put it up on the bar. He stood up straight, and walked further down the bar and took a seat. He sat down three stools over, settled in, and looked back at a very confused and frustrated little girl. He turned sideways in his seat, so his legs and body faced her, and she moved in her seat as if to start to get up and come to him. He put his hand up and gestured to her to stay put where she was; he just continued to look her over. He noticed her frustration, but also how exposed she was in her short dress, tucked up even further than comfortable, how his hands had tousled her hair, and the rosy bright pink glow of arousal and embarrassment on her cheeks. He got the attention of the bartender and ordered a drink.

As he sat there, a man came up to the bar and moved to one of the stools between the two of them. He was amused at the potential predicament that would be created when the man sat down at one of the stools, effectively blocking/breaking the connection between the two of them. The man stood there, looking from one side to the other, seeming to notice the connection between them, puzzled by the distance. As it turned out, he was simply asking for change for a phone call and within a couple minutes had moved on, leaving the open space and emptiness between them.

When the man left, he picked up his drink and moved back down to the stool beside her and sat down, and she reached over and hugged him, clearly happy to leave those disconnected moments in the past. He turned toward her, and she turned full toward him, and they sat sideways in their stools, with their knees interlaced with each other. He continued to move his hand idly up and down her thighs as they talked and felt the warm of her legs against his palm. He noticed that his continuous attention and the effects of the alcohol were showing more and more in her eyes, the smile on her face and the tempo of her breathing. It was evident that her arousal was growing. He leaned over to her and asked, "Where would you like to go next?" Her reply was simple and straight forward, "Anywhere, away from all of these people, somewhere we can be alone." He laughed, and called the bartender over to settle the tab. And off they went.

One Foot in Each World

I discovered this blogosphere realm from a dominants site, I was Googling for some information and found a particularly good blog and it led me to a couple of blogs that attracted my further interest and attention, I read them for a while, and was inspired to begin my own. More and more my reading expanded, and over time I began to recognize a couple of distinctly different styles of blogs. I originally thought of them as the sex blogs and the BDSM blogs, although I don't know that those generalizations are wholly accurate. I guess I will just use the styles set by Love Boudoir to avoid making up my own semantics, Erotica and Kink. What follows are generalizations:

Erotica, featuring straight, vanilla, sometime edgy, but always delicious erotic pleasure..., I think these folks generally refer to themselves as sex bloggers, generally have a very open attitude toward sexual encounters, in fact the majority of their posts are centered on real or imagined/fantasized sexual encounters. Their posts are beautifully written prose or poetry describing the events, their feelings about them, and both their physical and emotional responses during and after those encounters. They are very sexy, very sensual and very erotic. The nature of the relationships ranged from married couples, to lovers, to casual encounters with total strangers, to even phone or Internet chat sex play.

Kink, gratification is just one fetish away, lust dances with a master and his slave, and pleasure stings like a whip..., often as not written by submissives describing their relationships and service with their master, owner(s) or play dominants. Their posts are also beautifully written and appear to be roughly a 50-50 mix of sensual descriptions of "scenes" or encounters, and discussions of the joys or tribulations of their service and submission. The nature of the relationships range from Master/slave couplings, to marriages with kink, to submissives collared to dominants, to dom/sub in long distance relationships.

I don't remember exactly how it was that I found myself in the sex blogger realm, most likely I followed the profile link of a commenter, and followed a link on their page and then another and then another. Sometimes I forgot to follow the bread crumbs back and lost my way. Slowly I got to widening my range of sites further and further, and went off on tangents that took me to a number of (what I would call) bizarre fetish blogs, like diapers, and baby bottles and other less than mainstream interests. Most often I followed the bread crumb trails back from there.

But also, the more I read some of the erotic/sex blogs I discovered some very strong submissive themes to the exploits being discussed. Some, who probably started out just exploring their sexuality, happened across some kink along the way and recognized a submissive interest, or a submissiveness within themselves that had been dormant or simply unobserved. There seems to be an undercurrent of sex bloggers who have a tendency toward bottoming, but still to a larger audience of partners.

Interestingly though, I do not find the same degree of cross over from the submissive blogs, no corresponding interest in exploring a variety of partners through a variety of sexual encounters. There are a number of slave/subs who find pleasure in being shared, or are positioned by their dominant or master where their sexuality is displayed or available to others. However, there does seem to be a greater tendency toward fidelity/commitment to one partner.

For the past couple weeks I have been paying particular attention to the blog rolls when I visit someone's page and find there is usually a pretty fair mix of links offered for others to explore. There does seem to be the 80-20 rule in effect though. I suppose that is as expected, although the other 20% of the links offers a surprising insight into their other interests, the amount of cross over seems to be growing, or is it just that my perception has changed?

I can certainly understand why a dominant/submissive would enjoy reading the blogs of sexually promiscuous/adventurous women with submissive tendencies, and vice verse. And why sexually adventurous women would enjoy the intensity of some of the kink they read on those others blogs. As a dominant I certainly enjoy reading the blog of a sexually adventurous women with submissive tendencies.

If you have gotten this far, and don't want to make any comment, I would appreciate it if you would take a minute to answer the poll over in the right side bar - if for no other reason than to assuage my curiosity about the kind of people that pass by. Thank you.

And thank you for taking part in my poll:

Total Votes 24
Erotica 2 (8%)
Kink 8 (34%)
Erotically Kinky 11 (47%)
Dominant 0 (0%) I didn't vote
Just Visiting 3 (13%)

Hand Controls

'What? you think you're some kind of Jedi? Waving your hand around like that?' ~ Watto to Qui-Gon, The Phantom Menace

It was a very busy Saturday night and I was sitting at the final seat at the blackjack table, another man next to me and then seat 4 was empty, the barstool like seat pushed up against the rail, and the other 3 seats were occupied as well. The pit area at the Suncoast casino was busy; there was nearly a row of people behind the players watching the action. It was jovial night, everyone was having a good time, the cards were generally going the player’s way, and everyone was up a little bit.

As we played I began to notice the man next to me kept looking to his right, not paying the attention he had been, seeming distracted. I also noticed that the blackjack dealer seemed to have his attention drawn as well. After a few minutes, I leaned forward to see what was distracting them so. A player had stepped up to the vacant seat and placed chips on the edge of the table, waiting to get into the next round of play.

Standing behind the vacant fourth seat was a quite attractive, fairly tall Asian girl, typical long straight black hair and pretty oval eyes. Then I noticed what had been distracting the other men (and now me) at the table. This attractive 20-something girl was wearing a short black flip skirt and a cream colored button up V-neck sweater, unbuttoned nearly down to her navel. The edges of the sweater were taut, just barely covered the nipples on her small conical breasts. Like many Asian girls she had very small breasts, probably barely A cups, and seemed to be fidgety about the way the sweater barely covered them.

She held a drink in her left hand and played cards with her right, and between hands she would fuss with the edges of the sweater, alternately covering more of her breasts and then moving it back to where it just barely covered her nipples again, all done in a nervous sort of way.

As I alternated between watching and leering, I noticed she would glance back over her left shoulder frequently, as if she might be expecting someone to come walking up at any minute. I looked around a couple times and finally notice a nice looking late 30s man standing about 10 feet back from the table, leaning against the end of a bank of slot machines. He was nicely dressed in slacks and a polo shirt, and was watching the girl, very intently, with no expression on his face.

Just about then the girl adjusted the right edge of the sweater so that it was now lying outside of her right breast, so that it was completely uncovered. It was quite a sight in a crowded casino, a lovely girl with bare breast showing in the midst of crowd. I looked back at the man and notice he was making a hand gesture, waving it slightly to the right, indicating the same direction she had moved the sweater. As I watched him he then moved his hand in a pushing forward manner and the girl moved in closer to the table and leaned forward, making herself even more visible to the people on either side of her. Over the half-hour or so, she moved the sweater edge off of and back on and then off again from her breasts probably a half dozen times, mostly leaving them and her erase-like nipples open and exposed, responding to the gestures of the man behind her.

Every time he would give her another gesture, she would grimace slightly but comply. Her gaze was always on the man, or the cards in front of her, but never to one side or the other, acutely aware that she was being watched, the blackjack dealer directly in front of her and also some half dozen people on either side of her. People would come and go, not sure of what they were seeing, or leave out of embarrassment, except for those of us engaged in the game, sitting at the table, caught up in the play.

I am fairly confident that I am the only one who saw the man and his hand signals, and understood the control being exerted over her. Clearly she was acting as directed within a previously scripted scenario. She was embarrassed in that very shy, demure and quiet way that Asian girls can react, but was obviously enjoying the control and exhibition as evidenced by her skin flushing and arousal. Then as quietly and unobtrusively as she had arrived, with a come hither gesture, she turned and walked away, placed her hand on his arm and they walked off into the crowd.

It was a very interesting convergence of domination/control, exhibition and voyeurism, if only for a fleeting few minutes.