#867) Windy Day Wednesday, Part II

Wednesday, hump day, half way through this loooong work-week; ‘what to wear on this spring day to inspire some enthusiasm?’ I thought to myself. The weather forecast is for lots of sunny skies and gusty winds… A smile crept across my face as I picked-out a short sundress. The memory of yesterday pervaded my mind. I’d picked out a different sundress, not as short as this one. I’d paired it with the same colored turquoise panties. I didn’t bother with a bra; my small titties don’t need one. If I happened to show a nipple to coworkers or passers-by, so much the better to energize the day. And the wind had blown my skirt up coming back from lunch on the busy downtown street, and I did give a man a good glimpse of expensive underwear, and he did grin at the gift, and I did smile back, and then found that I’d soiled those pricey panties with arousal… Today would be all the sexier!

I felt like a ninja of naughtiness as I got dressed without benefit of bloomers. I felt like an assassin knowing that my awesome ass would annihilate all those who happened to see me at the exact moment when a gust of wind blew by. Ready to blow the world away, I got to work feeling giddy, as all around me were dragging themselves to greet the day. Obeying my mother’s voice in my head, I kept my knees together when sitting through business meetings all morning; the better to feel the slight “squishiness” between my thighs. A smirk played on my lips as I contemplated pulling a Sharon Stone-like leg-cross when in a one-on-one sit-down with a coworker, Jeff. But I didn’t act like a total tramp, just knowing the temptation was tease enough.

The same can’t be said for my walk to and from lunch at a nearby diner. Gust after gust of wind exposed me. I tried to fight my skirt down with each one, blushing from seeming embarrassment, when in actuality, I was thrilled from my bare assment. The warm wind chilled my naked sex as it grew wetter and wetter, which in turn made my nipples rock hard. I mean, they were so damned diamond tipped, I was surprised my nipples didn’t cut right through the sheer cotton fabric of my light summer dress! One sudden gust raised the dress’ hem both front and back, and a sweet-faced older gentleman got a good glimpse. He practically drooled at the sight, and my vagina matched him by salivating copiously.

I felt so energized after a full day’s work that I decided to take a short bike ride around the neighborhood. I felt too alive to have to cook dinner, we’d just order something to be delivered. Sitting my nakedness directly on the bicycle seat was transportive before my sandals even touched a pedal of my old Schwinn, but when I did tool-around our nearby blocks, the wind blew my skirt up far too much for even this mischievous minx to allow, so I stuffed the front of the skirt down between my legs and sat on it. The sunshine, the day’s memories, the machinations of my muff against the bicycle seat as I pedaled, it all proved too much, and I had several small orgasms almost against my will. Consequently, by the time I returned home, my dress was drenched there in front with my arousal. I’d have to change clothes before Raul got home, I said to myself as I carried the trusty old bike inside for safety-sake.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, when I confronted my lover just inside the front door.

“You’re home early!” I smiled to cover my guilt.

Raul didn’t respond, just looked me in the eye, then took in the state of my clothes. He didn’t need to sniff my bike’s seat to know my recent past, it was visibly sticky.

“Did you go to work dressed like that?”

“Well… not… covered in cum… the bike ride turned me on…”

“But in that minuscule dress… without panties…?”

I hung my head. Raul took me by the elbow and escorted me into our bedroom. Wordlessly, he pulled the sundress over my head, and because it was soiled already, wiped between my legs with it, so I wouldn’t soil everything else with arousal. Then he sat me next to him on the bed. I could see that I was in for a good talking-to, and that this was just the preliminaries…

“If I owned a valuable work of art,” he started, and I knew it was going to be a long talk, “say a priceless nude portrait by the great artist, Modigliani, would I take it out in the street, take it to work to show it off there, take it on a bike ride around the neighborhood?”


He adroitly pulled me over his lap with one smooth, sudden move, and let his hand wander over my upturned ass and down between my legs.

“Correct! You are my masterpiece, my work of art, Wendy. Who owns this?” he demanded about where he was touching.

“You do, sir,”

“But you took my priceless piece of art outside, exposed it to the light, to on-lookers, to anybody who wanted to see!” he analogized. “You cheapened this valuable possession, my possession as your Top, without thinking to ask me…”

“I’m sorry…” I offered feebly.

“You are going to be,” he responded and started to spank.

I knew from the first heavy-handed wallop that it was going to be a memorable punishment. Raul warmed me up with his hand, then didn’t miss a beat as he withdrew his belt from around his waist and used its doubled-up length to leather me. Like a modern-day master, he touched-up his Modigliani creation with his own creativity. He made doubly sure with that doubled belt that I was a very sorry submissive before he took a breather to catch some air and let my bottom glow.

“I’m not done with you yet… but I’m getting hungry. What did you plan for dinner?”

“Take-out…” I said to the floor, “something from Door Dash or Grub Hub or…”

Raul pulled out his cell phone, ordered something, then his hand resumed wandering across my Master’s piece.

“You seem to like showing this off, Wendy… When the food arrives, you’re going to answer the door… like this…” and he resumed the lesson, again first with his hand, eventually with the belt for some more, just to make sure my butt was glow-in-the-dark illuminated. In between wallops, he continued the scolding. “As you pay for the pizza.. you are to explain to the delivery-person… that you are being punished… and turn around to show them your bottom… is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you are going to eat your dinner from the corner, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, before bed, I may give you a little refresher, to make sure your mind is on your mistakes all night long…”

“Yes, sir,” I repeated as he repeated strap stroke after strap stroke. I knew that there would be some in-between time in the evening ahead, and hoped that Raul would see fit to show me that, through it all, I was forgiven by some make-up sex. For the moment, I just winced and took my medicine and waited for the doorbell to ring.

15 responses to “#867) Windy Day Wednesday, Part II”

  1. Well, Jean Marie, when I got home from work today I was so tired that I sat down and went to sleep! And I even dreamed…that I was falling against another girl outside and that as I fell my skirt flipped up and she saw my bare bum! Is that coincidence or what?!
    Sophie xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. True story:

    When Queen shot the video for the song “Bicycle Race”, they hired just about every model in England who was willing to pose nude on a bicycle. They rented and/or borrowed enough bicycles for each model and when they were done with the video shoot and returned said bicycles, the store complained that they had to change all the bicycle seats…

    As told by producer Roy Thomas Baker on a documentary series that was on VHS (if I remember correctly).

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh yes, bicycles plus skirts or dresses are a poor choice for the more naturally modest amongst us. I have to say though that I never worried about it. When I was 18 years old I used to cycle to school together with friends. Passing male drivers submitted us to a remarkable amount of close scrutiny, and some of us pretended to object.

      Liked by 2 people

      • You like to profess and protest that you are naturally modest, Susie P, but I tend to doubt it (because it takes one to know one). LOVE this; thanks for sharing!


  3. I loved this line:

    “If I happened to show a nipple to coworkers or passers-by, so much the better…”

    For years I have called those little glimpses, “blessings;” to be enjoyed at the moment, then savored forever in the mind. And don’t EVER tell the owner of those perkies you were “blessed” with, nor react in any way that would embarrass her. You got a gift – enjoy it and shut up.

    I did tell one “owner” of a pair of nature’s FINEST years later, a beautiful co-worker, that I once got heaping eye-fulls of her ta-ta’s. She didn’t think so, so I told her where and when. In detail. Then she blushed. Then told her that view of her perfect boobs was still in my mind. Oh, and “Thank you so much!” And from her with a huge beautiful smile, “Well, you’re welcome!”

    I think she remembered that moment, and later I thought, maybe she gave me that peek on purpose…?


  4. Dear Jean Marie. I have to concede that you may be on to something here with regard to my true nature. It can be so very hard to be honest with ones self. You have made me think, and your blog has provided me with an opportunity to work through my feelings. In essence, I am thrilled by the concepts of exposure and embarrassment possibly because of the extent to which my upbringing placed so much emphasis on modesty. I can’t deny the excitement I experience when I have flashed my body or my lingerie and seen the reaction of both male (and very occasionally female) witnesses. I am still too repressed to do this frequently and have perhaps used this as validation for my view of my nature as essentially modest. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Tears came to my eyes as I read this comment, Susie P. Thank you for that valued feedback! I feel such a sense of risk doing this blog at times. People like you, with comments like this, make me feel like it’s worthwhile!
      Jean Marie


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