This afternoon, i found myself with just under an hour of free time. i had errands to run for the household. One of them was to pick up some things at a local thrift store, a resale shop that sells used clothing, appliances, books and the like.
As i walked through the shop, i found myself circling the women's clothing section. The first time, i dismissed it as just being silly, a perverse flashback to my adult bookstore shopping trip. The second time, i felt a little more uneasy. The third time, i knew i was on a mission. i wanted to find something pretty that i could photograph myself in.
This raised some serious questions for me. It's one thing to buy panties and put them on because your Goddess is telling you to. It's quite another thing to be browsing through lingerie that has been worn by another woman, then taken to the resale store as a donation.
And it's even quite another thing to be caught. i was going through the pretty things, sliding my fingers over the fabric, going from hangar to hangar looking at the colors and the material, wondering which would fit me and which would not. i looked down the aisle and saw to young women, maybe in their mid- twenties, whispering and giggling. They were no doubt amused by the middle aged man shopping for his wife. i must have turned slightly red because they froze for a second, whispered something else, then both walked away. That was the kind of humiliation i'd wanted, the kind i felt in the adult store last week. And the kind i knew my Goddess might grant me again when She is finished with Her pain and ass games.
i chose a red satin nightie that would just barely cover my ass. i rushed back to my hotel room, stripped and tried it on. It fit well and i felt pretty. i took a handful of pictures in different poses, trying my best to look sexy, remembering the pictures i used to respond to in Cosmo or Vogue.
i sent them off to my Goddess with the hope She would find at least some of them entertaining.
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