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Chapter 7
by IveBeenNaughty
My head is swirling with so many feelings, memories, apprehensions and desires. What will my mouth choose to speak about?
There's something you need to know about the notification tone.
I am jarred out of the love-haze and back to the present as I feel my phone start vibrating, and pull it out of my pocket, at which point the Buxom's notification tone gets loud enough to hear from across the road. I'm still shaking my head that I was talked into it, but saId ringtone is a recording of me moaning with pleasure before screaming "I'm cumming!" and commencing a very (oh do I mean *very*) vocal orgasm. This ringtone was the first instruction given to me when we came up with this game. The second was that I must *always* allow the complete clip to play before answering. The third was handing over my phone for some "tweaks" (which included silent mode and the volume control mysteriously disappearing).
Soon after that particular indignity, having just had Buxom message me to talk about the shopping (yeah right, it was the game, she was exposing me, again). The guy sitting next to me on the train turned in his seat and said "Holy shit you got stones dude, having a ringtone like that". I started to say that it is a part of a coercive game that I play with my partner before realising that I've just talked about fight club. What's the first rule?! I didn't stop myself anywhere near quickly enough because my phone started moaning again, with a text that simply said "NPP, 15".
"I hate this" I lied to myself as I stood up to implement Naked Punishment Protocol (15 minute level). I had 30 seconds to get a proof-of-compliance photo, or something even more intense would happen. In my desperation I handed my phone to the guy who had started all this and asked him to take a picture of me or else I'd get in lots of trouble.
Turning my attention back to my clothes, I got all my clothesoff in 24 seconds, then looked back up at the man who was supposed to have taken my photo of proof. I found them not taking a photo of the humiliated (yet somewhat aroused) wanker standing in front of them, but instead scrolling back through the most private, incriminating, **** chat in existence, replete with photos and videos one after the other demonstrating my compliance with every instruction, interspersed occasionally with clips Buxom has must have received from witnesses to one or another of my tasks. I've never figured out how they get her number. Sometimes these clips are accompanied by audio or textual commentary on whatever depravity I am being **** to conduct at the time. If I'm honest, apart from the trust I put in Buxom and the deep care and knowledge of me I experience in the precision tailoring of every one of the tasks created for me, the descriptions of my exploits that originate from total strangers are the single most wonderful thing about this game.
I got naked in time, but Mr stranger-on-the-train is reading my darkest secrets and didn't even bother snapping my photo. I'm in trouble.
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Compulsive exhibitionism in hospital...
...and some pretty unexpected consequences
My name is Wayne. Wayne Vernon Kerr. I'm 32, genderfluid, and I am a compulsive exhibitionist. I'm not one of those "dirty old men" in raincoats. While I crave being seen naked and/or expressing my sexuality, I try pretty had to avoid any and all situations where that might violate some bystander's consent. Last week I found myself in hospital, and things got more than a little out of hand...
Updated on Dec 4, 2022
by IveBeenNaughty
Created on Dec 4, 2022
by IveBeenNaughty
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