Bicoastal Musings and other Shenanigans

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There is something so sexy and evocative about this image.

One martini glass - His?
Betting chips and pearls on the table... did he win her too? Or is she now on offer as part of the next bet?

I'm not a betting person. I don't even buy scratch tickets, but I did grow up watching Bond, James Bond at betting tables all over the world. Martini, shaken not stirred. Dry.

And the fantasy of being on a gentleman's arm as he plays the high stakes table game is definitely alluring. As a subby girl, I'd want him to be proud of me and be showing me off. I'd want to make sure he has a drink at hand whenever he wants one. I'd want to be sexy enough to distract the other players to his benefit... and - if he saw fit to place me as a bet - for the night or transfer of ownership- I would acquiesce. Because I trust him to take care of me. It would terrify me, but I would have to believe he would not bet me if he was not confident in winning, or that he would steal me back.

The heat of the idea that I can be part of the assets he plays with, that he bets on and offers as a bet, naked but for my corset and pearls is wrapped up in fantasies of CMnf, CNC and overt public submission.

From the moment he brings me to be his girl in the betting room, I can feel my arousal growing until my thighs are slick with my juices, my musky scent making all the boys extra horny.
 
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You told me that your next goal for my training is to be your subby naked hostess the next time you have the guys over.
So tonight, with just your poker buddies over for drinks and cards, you pull my dress down to expose my breast. Bra less as you had demanded. I am deeply conflicted as you expose me in this way, but I feel my need to submit overwhelmed all logic. I lean into your hand as your grope my breast. I close my eyes as I feel 3 sets of eyes gazing at my naked display. I start to fall into sub space as I hear you explaining to the guys that you are training me to be completely naked by the end of the year. You tell them you've already trained me to never wear panties. "Show them, darling"
Reluctantly, but willingly, I open my legs, my dress pulling up on my thighs. You pull my skirt up revealing my glistening cunt, hairless except for a thin landing strip.
Chuckling you explain that I love being your slutty sub... and my hard nipples and wet pussy prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

I blush so hard it extends down my throat and chest and involuntarily I moan in response to your words...

@Mrtenant


always want to be your good girl 😈
 
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