21.
There’s an adage in (American) football that says “Keep running the same play until the defense proves they can stop it.” In our case, she kept going to the well time after time running the exact same play: she’d bait me to the point where I was desperate for release, only to delay it until after she got a feminine concession in return.
This “play” had worked with the panties and thigh highs. Shortly after she added toenail polish (pink, of course) and lipstick (same), the lipstick being a requisite prior to going down on her. Then she requested I shave my upper body, her rationale being (correctly) that it looked foolish to be half smooth.
I had been an easy target. Chastity will do that to a person. However, I was growing uncomfortable with the direction. I didn’t like where we were headed. And the pace was quickening.
I sat there a week later, ready to boil over, as she fully made up my face – foundation, concealer, brows, eye shadow, liner, mascara, lipstick and liner, pressed powder, blush, I could go and on.
When she produced a wig and began to fit it with the promise of a reward, I pushed it away.
“Stop! Just stop,” I said throwing my hands up.
She paused, the wig dangling in her hand.
“We need to talk,” I started. “I don’t understand this, I don’t get it, I don’t want it.”
She remained quiet.
I got up from the chair and makeup table in our bathroom and walked away the kitchen, ready for a fight, anticipating her trailing behind me. She never came out of the bedroom.
My defense had finally stopped her play and I was glad I had stood up for myself. What I didn’t realize is I may have won this early skirmish, but the war hadn’t even started yet.
There’s an adage in (American) football that says “Keep running the same play until the defense proves they can stop it.” In our case, she kept going to the well time after time running the exact same play: she’d bait me to the point where I was desperate for release, only to delay it until after she got a feminine concession in return.
This “play” had worked with the panties and thigh highs. Shortly after she added toenail polish (pink, of course) and lipstick (same), the lipstick being a requisite prior to going down on her. Then she requested I shave my upper body, her rationale being (correctly) that it looked foolish to be half smooth.
I had been an easy target. Chastity will do that to a person. However, I was growing uncomfortable with the direction. I didn’t like where we were headed. And the pace was quickening.
I sat there a week later, ready to boil over, as she fully made up my face – foundation, concealer, brows, eye shadow, liner, mascara, lipstick and liner, pressed powder, blush, I could go and on.
When she produced a wig and began to fit it with the promise of a reward, I pushed it away.
“Stop! Just stop,” I said throwing my hands up.
She paused, the wig dangling in her hand.
“We need to talk,” I started. “I don’t understand this, I don’t get it, I don’t want it.”
She remained quiet.
I got up from the chair and makeup table in our bathroom and walked away the kitchen, ready for a fight, anticipating her trailing behind me. She never came out of the bedroom.
My defense had finally stopped her play and I was glad I had stood up for myself. What I didn’t realize is I may have won this early skirmish, but the war hadn’t even started yet.