Something silver

Midway through the next morning, you slid out the long, pale pink box from the side of your wardrobe. Opened up, its glinting array of contents were revealed: one neat line of gleaming silver, each adorned with a day of the week. The buttplugs had been your 1 month anniversary present from Ben, each increasing slightly in size as the week went on. At the time, they had been rather necessary set of training wheels as your rear end got used to what you would now consider its primary role. But they were also a secret reminder as to who you really belonged to, while you flunked your way through art college and so rarely got to see him. You had worn them diligently; in every class or around the dorms. Sometimes it meant you felt like you were sitting on an anthill all day. Sometimes there was a near miss where one slipped loose and almost got you caught in catastrophic embarrassment. It didn’t matter… you still slid another in the very next day.

Now, of course… they were more a sentimental collection. No longer required accessories with every day's attire. But you still liked to pop one in from time to time; whenever you needed a little encouragement to face the outside world. It gave you a source of focus and comfort, somehow: to feel that cool, round lump buried between your cheeks. Your inner musculature welcoming it in snugly, like an old and treasured friend. It was a solid secret, just for you. A hidden piece of sluttery that every stranger who passed you by knew nothing about. That was a source of great courage, for someone as naturally shy as you. It made worrying about anything else seem really rather silly.

With that secured, you picked out a pair of suitable, lacy red panties to hold it in. You were already wearing a multi-layered skirt to cover those over and a nice, loose blouse above that. The usual padded bra and sticky pasties gave some form to your chest… a vanity you allowed yourself for heading out in public without Ben. It didn’t matter if people thought you were a woman… but it made it feel safer if they did. Explaining your rather alternative lifestyle became more tiresome and awkward every time… even without the risk of more hostile reactions. Besides, you would be lying not to admit that every time an obviously proudly ‘Hetero’ man gave your effeminate body a leering once over, or some clueless workmen wolf-whistled across the street, you didn’t feel just that little bit of smug glee at their expense.

You set out towards town with heels clicking beneath you, adding a fair few inches to your still modest height. There was something about walking through the sunshine with your legs bared, a breeze tugging at your skirt and the tightrope pacing of high heels, that filled your soul with happiness. It made you feel like you were walking on air… though you still had to keep a wary eye out for any bumps and cracks in the pavings. People smiled as you passed, mowing lawns or washing cars, it really was a whole different world from the inner city life you'd come from.

With a wicker basket under your arm, for all appearances the sitcom housewife to a tee, you skipped through the doors of the local grocery store… ready to scour the aisles for anything you could spoil your master with.