Ethan's Grace - Exhibitionist Scene

Author's Note: This story was originally submitted in the Chain Stories category as part of the FAWC experience. I'm resubmitting it in the proper category so that readers following this couple can locate it.

This is the continuing story of Ethan and Grace. While it is not necessary to read any other story before reading this one, if you would like more background on these characters including how their love affair started, check out the "Amazing Grace" series, or any of the other "Ethan's Grace" stories posted in BDSM and Anal.

Exploring Exhibitionism

I spotted Grace chewing her cuticle out of the corner of my eye. She was starting to get on my nerves. I'd just about had enough of her impatient sighs and annoying pacing.

I lowered the iPad to my lap and turned my head to face her.

She immediately got defensive. "What?"

My lips tightened to a thin line on my face. I didn't appreciate her tone. "Go lay down on the bed and wait for me."

Grace huffed and planted her feet in place.

"I'm not playing, Grace. Now."

She made a bratty face and then marched to the bedroom like a petulant two-year-old. I had to stifle a laugh. Even when she was getting on my nerves, she was still kind of cute. That's probably how all newlyweds feel, though.

I was still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that we were married. It wasn't the short amount of time we'd been together that made me feel that way. Hell, I'd asked her to marry me, so I'd already gotten over that part. It was our spontaneous decision to just do it while we were in Vegas for John and Melissa's wedding. It started out as just a half-joking remark by John. But it made so much sense, it was hard not to take it seriously. Before we knew it, we'd said the vows and signed the paperwork. It was just that quick. It made me think that if it was that easy and quick to do that maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. Grace's parents begged to differ, though.

Grace wouldn't repeat the exact lecture she'd received from her mother when she told them the news. They didn't even know we were dating. And Grace's late husband hadn't been gone all that long. I can't blame them, really. They were shocked. Wait until they actually meet me. It'll be impossible to hide these tattoos in the summer. Not that I'd try, anyway.

Fuck 'em if they're that short-sighted.

I set the iPad down on the coffee table and strolled to the closet to retrieve my dungeon bag and carry it to the bed. Grace's jaw dropped when she saw me approaching with it.

"I didn't say anything."

I tilted my head in warning. Her tone was bordering on disrespectful. She really needed to learn to watch her mouth when she was nervous about something. "Wrists."

Grace rolled her eyes and presented her wrists for me to cuff them.

"Since you're hell-bent on being a brat, you can spend this time in a ball gag, too. And by all means, keep rolling those eyes."

I fastened her wrists to the headboard and her ankles to the frame. Then I fetched a petite ball gag and buckled it in place. Standing back to admire my handiwork, I realized that my dick was getting hard. She was fully dressed and I still got hard binding her to the bed.

"I told you I was a slow reader. Now let me finish your book in peace." I chuckled, and added, "Not that you have any choice in the matter now."

I strolled back to the living room and lifted the iPad to continue reading. It was a good read. Grace had done a good job with the characters, and the BDSM elements had more teeth to them than her previous "sugar kink" novels. I attributed that to the fact that she was accumulating scores of experience now that she was married to a Dom.

I'd been exposing her to different things through role play, but generally staying on the tamer side of BDSM. I wasn't in a hurry to push her. We literally had the rest of our lives to explore our kinks. But while reading her latest work, a realization popped right off the page and slapped me in the face. She hadn't been real honest about her limits.

I don't think she lied on purpose. Like any newbie, she had no clue what she could handle, and what she couldn't. She could hardly articulate her particular kinks. As I read along, though, it was apparent to me that she was definitely into exhibitionism. Whether she was willing to admit it, or not. She couldn't possibly fold in that much emotion if she wasn't into it, and had already taken mental steps toward doing it, on some level.

I finished her draft and set the iPad down on the sofa next to me. I liked it. I'd always known she was very talented. And now she's your wife.

It was really time to celebrate. She'd been working on it for months. Although, she didn't really start to make progress until I forced writing into her routine. God, remember how much she resisted that at first? We'd had a few words over it, then a nice cropping. She began to see the importance of doing it after that. It wasn't like I was this total control freak boyfriend or anything.

I didn't make her wait on me, or do chores, or anything like that. She wasn't my slave. This was something I did for her. I wanted her to know that her writing, which was something she did completely independent of me, was just as important to me as it was to her. If I wouldn't have made her sit down and do it at scheduled times, she would've blown it off to be with me. And sooner or later, she would've quit, altogether.

Writing gave her strength. It was what kept her afloat after her husband died and she discovered he'd cheated on her. It was her lifeline. She would've grown to resent me for taking her away from it. Maybe not right away, but eventually. I couldn't have that. So I became a real hard-ass about her writing schedule. Somewhere along the line she started to see the benefit in it, like she does most things.

It would be fitting to make this celebration specific to her finished product.

I started forming the plan in my mind as I was tugging my phone from my jean pocket. I searched for the number, and then dialed.

"Ello?"

"Julian, it's E."

"Hey, whassup?"

"When is your next dungeon-opening shift?"

"Tonight. Why? You need some private time?"

"Yeah, well, sort of."

"I'm gonna be heading over there in about an hour. You'll have about 45 minutes before people start showing up to work. That enough time?"

"Yeah, plenty. Listen, I need a small favor from you, too..."

***

Grace

It took me awhile to settle down. Ethan was being unreasonable. No, Grace. Unfair. Not, really. A complete asshole. Not even close.

Ever since the wedding, my snarky inner voice had totally crossed over to being on his side. I used to be able to count on that voice to really rip apart whoever I was mad at. But not Ethan. Nooooo, she loved Ethan now. Always defending him and pointing out what a bitch I was all the time. How lucky I was to have him. Snarky bitch. I should've smothered you with a pillow years ago.

The thing about being bound and gagged is that it has this way of adjusting your attitude. Ethan knows that, of course. I think that's the most annoying part of being the submissive. Even when you know you're being manipulated, it still works.

I was still learning how to let go. Being submissive wasn't something that you just decided to do one day. It was a process, I was discovering. I was somewhere in that learning curve. Luckily, I had Ethan to guide me.

I heard the timbre of his male voice through the wall. Who is he talking to? I strained to make out his words. The straps of the ball gag held my hair in place over my ears. There was no way to hear what he was saying so I just gave up on it.

How much longer? He is a God-awful slow reader. Why couldn't he have at least told me whether or not he was liking it so far? Would that be so hard?

It occurred to me that I'd never sought anyone's approval for my work before. I just wrote for me. It was important to me that Ethan liked it, though. More than important...necessary. I needed him to be proud of me. It was something I never had in my first marriage. And something I'd sworn never to allow happen to me again. It would be better to be alone than be with someone who was ashamed to be with me. Being with Ethan had taught me that.

Ethan approached me at a rapid pace. I crinkled my brow to show him I was concerned.

"We're going to have to hurry, baby. We're meeting Julian at the dungeon in an hour. We won't have much time before people start showing up."

I tried to speak through the ball gag, "The dungeon?" But my words were unintelligible.

"I'm going to pick out what I want you to wear. We're not going to discuss the scene in advance. It starts when we walk out the front door. I want you to just trust me on this. Okay?" I nodded. "Good girl. Now, I'm going to release your gag, but no questions. And for this scene, your safeword will only buy you a timeout. We will finish the scene regardless of how long it takes. It's important for you to remember that we don't have much time alone in the dungeon."

Ethan unsnapped the ball gag and tossed it in the bathroom sink on his way to the closet. I heard him rifling through hanging clothes for a few moments, cussing about the size of the closet. It was clear that his house was a snug fit for the both of us. We'd already started casually browsing the local real estate listings for bigger houses. Mine had sold fairly quickly, which was evidence of a strengthening real estate market. It was probably a good time to consider a move. Especially since Ethan had already expressed his desire to start a family.

We had plenty of time for that, though. In the meantime, he was settling for role playing scenes to satisfy his newfound impregnation fetish. I enjoyed those scenes more than any of the others because they pushed Ethan's control to the limit. It felt like we were always working on pushing my limits.

As I listened to his rifling, I wondered which one of my borders was about to be attacked. I could hardly contain the mounting excitement between my thighs.

***

Ethan

I finally found the skirt and blouse I was looking for. I needed to put her in something that could easily be hiked up or opened to expose her. She is really going to resist this.

Grace had previously told me that she couldn't handle having an orgasm in front of other people. At the time it wasn't something I was keen to do with her, either. Things change, though. People change. Boundaries shift. My hard dick was telling me that this was something that both of us needed at this point in our relationship. Especially after reading Grace's book. It was practically a confession of her most secret desires.

Somewhat of an odd way to celebrate her finishing the novel, it was the most valuable gift I could possibly give her. Every time I pushed a boundary of hers, she inched closer to being free. No special dinner or meaningless trinket could come close to that.

I set the skirt and blouse on the bed and worked on releasing Grace. Having her spend this quiet time was going to work in my favor. Her mind would already be in the right space to accept my direction.

"Two items of clothing only. No panties or bra. Slip into the highest-heeled pair of black shoes that you own. You won't have to do much walking. No dawdling, Grace. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

Oh, good girl. I liked how she was starting to change protocol without me having to prompt her. She was coming to know by the tone in my voice what I was expecting. We were already establishing a gratifying D/s connection that was working for both of us. It wasn't perfect. We both had demons that reared their ugly heads from time to time, but we were dealing with those one at a time.

I packed the necessary restraints in my dungeon bag as Grace was dressing. I watched her out of the corner of my eye to make sure she was obeying my orders. We didn't have time to add a punishment and it would change the whole mood of the scene. It dawned on me that I needed to clear her mind of one other thing before we proceeded.

I walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, dropping the dungeon bag near my feet so I wouldn't forget it. I knew Grace wouldn't be much longer. Thinking through what I had planned for the next couple of hours forced me to adjust my jeans to accommodate my growing cock. A few minutes later, Grace teetered into the room on her stilts wearing a short, loose-fitting skirt, and a spandex top that crossed in the front. Her nipples were pebbles through the thin material. She was utterly fuck-able.

I motioned for her to come to me, and parting my thighs, directed her to kneel between my feet.

"I want to say something before we get started. I finished reading your novel. I really liked it. I think it's your best work so far. I'm very proud of you, baby. We don't have time right now to talk through the details of what I liked about it, but we will do that tonight. I promise. I just didn't want you to be thinking about that during our scene. Okay?"

Grace nodded. Her lip was quivering, and pink blotches were starting to bloom around her face. She must've been really worried about my reaction. It was a good decision to get this out before we got started. There would've been no way she could give me the kind of focus I was going to ask for from her with that unfinished business.

"Are you ready to set that aside for now?"

Grace sniffled and swallowed, then nodded her head. "Yes, Sir. I'm ready."

"Good. Because what I have planned isn't going to be easy for you. You're going to resist it at first. The longer you resist, the harder it is going to be for you to complete the tasks."

I didn't want to say much more than that. Grace's mind was her worst enemy. The more she tried to reason through a scene, the harder it was for her to let go. I needed to awaken the reactive side of her brain, and get her focused on getting off.

"Stand up for me and let me see you in this outfit."

Grace pushed herself up off her knees and stood before me. I ran my hands up her bare legs and beneath her skirt to check that she was pantiless.

"Does it make you feel slutty to go without panties?"

Grace nodded.

I stood up and slid my hands beneath her skirt to squeeze her bare bottom and pull her pelvis against mine. "Good. You're my little slut, and mine alone." I slipped my hand between us and up to her bare pussy. "No one is ever going to touch this cunt again except me. Right, baby?"

Grace frowned for a second. I could tell she was trying to figure out where I was headed with my lines. She nodded. "Yes, Sir."

I needed to reaffirm that boundary for her. I was about to step over one of her limits. It wasn't something I had dared to do before, mainly because I feared the effect it would have on her trust in me. I needed her to know that I would not step over another limit of hers during this scene. I would not consider offering her to another Dom.

My fingertips lightly traced her smooth slit for a moment. Grace sighed and leaned into my shoulder in response. I love that sigh.

"I want to take you out and show you off, my sexy slut."

I patted her cunt once and then spun her toward the door, sweeping up my bag on the way.

I made sure to stoke her fire again as she was buckling into the passenger side of my car. It was easy to do with such free access to her sex. It helped that she was getting hot anticipating our scene, too. I barely had to pet her pussy to get her to spread her thighs and start panting.

Grace's book didn't have a dungeon or club scene in it, so I knew she wouldn't make the connection right away between what we were doing and her writing. Her story did include, however, a scene where the Dom demanded that his sub expose herself in both a car and in a restaurant. Then he brought her to climax in the restaurant in front of gawking guests. It was one hot scene in the book. And it was going to be even hotter when she experienced it for real.

The drive to the dungeon took about 25 minutes in ordinary traffic. The majority of that was highway driving. My goal was to keep her teetering on the sweet edge of release for the entire drive. I needed to get her in her submissive frame of mind and stay there.

I reversed out of the driveway and paused to tweak Grace's nipple before shifting the car into drive.

"This is going to be a long drive for me with you looking like that."

Grace smiled and dropped her chin demurely.

"Oh, please. You can't even pretend to be shy with a pussy as wet as yours."

Grace shifted in her seat. As embarrassing as the words sounded to her, they also made her hornier. That's my girl.

I came to a stop at the entrance of the subdivision and reached over to run my hand up her bare thigh. "Open up for me, I want to feel."

Grace parted her thighs and held her breath as my fingertips grazed her moist, pouty lips. Her eyes darted out the window to see if anyone noticed my arm stretched across the car. I'd passed up ample opportunities to pull out onto the busier street.

"What do you think would happen if I just put the car in park and fingered you until you came right here?"

Grace gasped and held her breath. She knew I wouldn't hesitate to do it. Unlike her, I didn't care what other people thought. Her eyes froze open wide as she was fighting the panic rising inside her. An impatient driver honked his horn behind us and I forced my finger through her folds into her slick opening.

"I tell you what ... I'll pull out and start driving again if you hike that skirt up to your waist and keep your thighs parted so I have an unobstructed view of your pussy. Sound good?"

Grace swallowed hard and nodded. She promptly yanked her skirt up to her waist and tucked the fabric into the waistband. I removed my finger and sat back in my seat to pull out onto the road. I had to deal with the other driver's road rage as he swerved around my car, but it was worth it. Grace had taken her first baby step.

I rested my hand on her thigh and caressed her soft skin there to reassure her. This was a big step for someone who had been keeping up appearances her entire life. It was ingrained in her. And it was time for her to stop being a prisoner to it.

"I really, really need to play with my slut's wet pussy. Reach down and pet those pouty lips for me, baby."

Grace's hand tentatively made its way toward her lips. She used her palm to cover her mound as her fingers gently grazed her lips.

"You're petting your pussy for me. Show me."

Grace moved her palm to the side so I could see her fingers. I got a quick glance before merging onto the highway. Once I was cruising in the center lane, I turned my attention back to her.

"Take off your blouse."

Grace's head snapped toward me, she didn't even attempt to disguise her shocked expression. I think it was that moment that she realized that I was playing out scenes from her story. She hesitated a bit longer than I wanted.

"Do I need to exit the highway?"

I'd used my warning tone. It was all she needed. She shook her head and began to unfasten her blouse. She shrugged it off her shoulders but kept her arms in the sleeves.

"All the way off. And just for that, throw it in the backseat."

I could practically see the gears cranking in her busy head. She was working out in her mind what the next worse thing would be if she disobeyed. What was so great about that was that I always had the advantage. With years of experience on her, I had infinite ways to make tasks more difficult. I was going easy on her. I could easily bind her hands behind her back and force her thighs open with a spreader bar. My dungeon bag was within reach.