HOME | DD

Description
After my first Midnight Walk, my tormentor felt he could make the experience sweeter for me by imposing a set of base regulations on me. These would apply always but we left provision for special instructions where necessary. This is some of the discussion I found wildly exciting.

1. Your knickers must always be plainly visible, no covering with your hands, no covering with clothing or other objects. The waistband of your knickers should be clearly visible even if someone is staring at them. You must ensure they can see your knickers and not be in any doubt that you are walking around in public in them. Keep your hands in pockets, even if someone says to cover up. No covering!

OK, my hands stay in my pockets to keep them unavailable for self defence or any attempt to hide my shame. The waist band of my knickers should be clearly visible? It wasn't last time. This is an awful increase in humiliating exposure. Even though I wore white, a casual observer would not have instantly seen how small my knickers were. You want that fact displayed?

Yes, displayed is exactly right! Those knickers of yours are going to be displayed proudly, even if you are shaking from embarrassment! People should be able to see every stitch and seam if they desire.

The point here is I'm going to need to somehow lift the bottom of my top clothing up to uncover my knickers completely. Maybe I can use a belt to pull it in so it flares over my hips? I'll experiment to see if that works. Do you realise this practical consideration pretty much limits me to small, low cut pairs?

That's what I hope.

2. The only time you are allowed to touch your knickers outside is: to adjust them, to stimulate yourself (stroke your thighs, caress your bum or rub your crotch/play with yourself), pull them down/take them off or pull them up/wedgie yourself. Other people are allowed to touch them however they like.

So this is basically a no covering or hiding rule? Presumably I can take my hands out of my pockets if I feel like feeling or playing with myself, but only then? This rule is so you can tell me other people are allowed to handle my knickers however they like isn't it? (Fuck!)

3. If someone asks if you are in your knickers, you must say yes. There can be no doubt that you are standing in front of them in your knickers (not swimwear or anything else). You can come up with any reason why but they must understand you are in your knickers.

I own up then and admit I left the house stripped? I can't say I've suffered some sort of wardrobe malfunction while out?

If you want. You can come up with excuses, as long as you don't say it's swimwear. They need to know you're in a pair of knickers that were never designed as outdoors clothing, but there you stand, exposing them to the world

4. You should take each of your knickers out for a walk around in public, so they all get some air. Any underwear you buy from now, you must buy with the intention of being seen in public in them. Think of how you will look in the streets in them. Your knickers should clearly be knickers and not shorts.

I have to road test my whole underwear drawer? Oh god no, not thongs as well. Please, please, please, for fuck's sake don't make me do that! Wearing all my knickers out will take ages. I'll work my way through them then, praying I can negotiate no thongs before I get there. I'll never buy another one!

Maybe we can round it down to your favourites, but I think everyone in town would love to see the variety of underwear you enjoy wearing!

5. No spare knickers on a walk. If they are soaking wet, covered in dirt or torn open, then you must walk home that way. Again, no covering! Even if they are transparent or sheer or falling off, all you have is that pair of knickers. No wearing one pair over another pair!

No spares? OK, no problem there. I'll admit how this corresponds beautifully to my fantasies later. So does rule 6.

6. If you encounter a style then you must climb onto it with your legs either side and grind back and forth on it at least ten times (unless it's not possible to do it) before continuing. If someone is near you you can not do this, but you must spread your legs wide as you cross and bend over as much as you can so they may have a full view of your knickers.

You want me to give my knickers a hard time in the hope that they'll fail and humiliate me worse don't you? You want me walking the last few hundred yards, exposed in the street lights with my sex organs hardly covered in a filthy dirty, ripped up, adventure scarred rag, right?

Your knickers are going to have a hard time I'm afraid, they're not designed to take the stresses and strains you'll be putting them through.

Am I going to damage them as much as I can, grinding my crotch ten times on gates and fences as well?

Yes, that's exactly what I want. I want you to do all sorts of things and end up in all sorts of states as you return home. I want you to look at yourself in a full length mirror as you enter your house and see how you look, and how everyone out there saw you. I'll be honest, I hope to hear that one night all you were wearing as you returned to your street is your trainers and socks!

7. If you cross a road bridge and you see cars passing below, you should stop for thirty seconds to give them enough time to seen you.

We do have a pedestrian bridge across a main road but it's a long way to walk. That would need to be a special mission.

For things that may be too difficult some concessions could be made like taking a bag and stripping down in a different place.

8. If it's raining you must sit on the first bench you encounter, soaking your knickers so your bum is clearly visible through them. If a passing car splashes you, you must not avoid it and let your knickers get wet.

I love this rule. I might pick a route next time past a bench on purpose. You're a lot kinkier than simply going out in your pants aren't you?

Well I have to admit, you're bringing it out of me! I really like the idea of telling you to do this stuff and you doing it.

9. If someone is filming you, you can hide your face, but no covering those knickers.

I really, really hope with all my heart that no one ever films me, if they do I hope I never know!

I’ll admit I’ve been doing this for a long time but I’ve never had anyone impose rules on me like this before. I know lots of places and routes. I’ve always been out at night and mostly I used to take a rucksack and strip when I’d reached the solitude of the countryside. Then I’d put my jeans in the rucksack and put them back on for the last bit back into town. It’s only recently that I’ve been brave enough to leave the house with bare legs and no rucksack.

Wearing white knickers was big for me and wildly scary, then you send me rule No 1! I’ve been thinking about it all day and practiced keeping my knickers entirely exposed to see how it feels. So I have to make sure my top clothes don’t slip at any time? OK.

I’m thinking of going out again tomorrow night. The weather is 5% chance of rain and clear with a wind chill of -1c. I like it cold to make me feel exposed. You want me to chose a different route this time?

Sadly as I can't join you on your walks I can't discipline you myself (which I would make sure you couldn't help but fear/enjoy), but I can make them more daring and humiliating for you if you don't fulfil a task, and there will be some. Here’s your first……..

Pick a part of your walk and walk 10 paces with your knickers down around your ankles. If someone appears you can pull them up. This one's about tempting fate! Imagine if the bike guy caught you like that, your bare bum shining in his torchlight and your little white knickers around your trainers, suspended tightly between your spread legs, making you walk awkwardly, like a pair of shackles. Punishment number one for forgetting that is……..

You are not permitted to wash the knickers you wore on that walk, and must wear them again on your next walk. This continues until you complete the task or a new arrangement or punishment is given. Keep failing and your knickers get dirtier and more worn until then. They are to be worn on your next walk and not covered up. If someone wants to take a close look, then no covering, you must let them! How embarrassing!

My punishment’s beautiful. What a lovely threat to dread! I’m going to willingly drop my knickers round my ankles for ten yards to avoid it. I’m going to play with your rules, I love riding gates and fences, I’ll find some. One of my favourite things is climbing up on top of those big round straw bales. I lay on the top with my legs spread and let the breeze waft over me.

I’m pretty certain I’m going out tonight. It’s lashing down with rain here at present which is forecast to clear up by the afternoon but the sun sets soon after that. This means there’ll still be a lot of standing water and the benches, if I find one, will be at least damp and cold. Maybe it will be wet enough to soak my knickers as thoroughly as I deserve, condemning me to significant discomfort for the rest of my walk. Did I enjoy writing that? I’m intoxicated already!

Most of what we have here is pure fantasy. We write about it like we’re (I’m) going to do it but it’s so wildly irresponsible I’m sure we never will. However once you’ve told someone thoughts become real, they’re released and once they’re out there they have their own life and their own consequences. That’s why meeting you feels wicked. On a pure fantasy level I’m thrilled by the thought of your power over me. So much so I want to allow it for real as far as I can.

Some of our rules can only apply in dreamland. The rule that I must allow strangers to handle my knickers makes me instantly damp but I’m sure it will never happen. This is one for the extrapolation of my midnight walks into the realm of literary fantasy afterwards. I really do genuinely believe that anyone I encounter, like real Bicycle Man, will carry on their way without giving me a second thought. People are busy, doing their own thing. The occasions where he does turn back will be so rare the risk is worth taking. I can accept the rule because I really think I won’t have to obey it!

You want me walking home with nothing left but my trainers and my socks? Is that the end game, my ultimate challenge? That too is pure fantasy but it defines the game in being a distant threat, as if when I step out tonight, it’s a step towards more withering humiliation than I can handle. It scares me to know that thought is out there.

From the tone of your messages I get the impression you think I’ll be out in daylight at some point, on display through town in the midst of its daily business? That surely must be nothing but a written adventure! It’s going to be inspired though isn’t it, by my real life as underwear whore? I mean how much of a leap of imagination will it take, walking home hot and confident one night, to be tempted to try a few yards of high street, just to see how it feels instead of staying on the secluded footpath behind the church? I’ve already worn white knickers when I never thought I would and tonight I’m allowing the thrill of obedience to expose my knickers entirely.

Over the next year I’ll be stepping out in daylight in tiny open crotch thongs in front of everyone will I? In my bed at night I’ll do it, I’ll ask for it and ache to be punished if my mission fails. Did you send me out for something? Maybe I bought skimmed instead of whole milk because I was so scared and confused in the Co-op my brain failed! “Take it back Kate. Now!” That would make me come, it would blow my head off but I’d never do that for real!

I can tell you now my reluctance to go out in my little thongs is so profound I’m not going to, even in the dark, not if I have to leave the house like that. I’d be bare arsed! I can’t escalate that far. But I’m telling you now right, and only now? I’m worried my kinky lust will drive me to escalate, it has already. Is doing this that addictive?

Rule No 1 is making me irresponsible. I know it’s not much for you, you do it all the time but your bloke’s pants are big. I’m so scared of it the adrenaline’s giving me too much courage. I was shaking when I tried tonight’s knickers on to see what they feel like. They’re not white OK? They’re black, most of mine are. Fully exposed I show enough flesh to make the fact I’m in little knickers easily obvious whatever colour they are. I stood in front of my mirror with the belt round my jacket thinking “No, I can’t go out like this!” but at the same time knowing I’d already decided to.

The simple act of thinking about it made me have to. I want so much to obey Rule No1 I almost need to risk the humiliation it would make me suffer. Now it’ll feel like defeat if I don’t do it.

Just so you know tonight’s knickers are light and soft. They’re plain tanga style and low round my hips so I can expose the top band. They’re small. Although they have almost a full arse they’re too narrow at the front for public display in daylight. They don’t cover my hump properly and tend to front wedgie me if I sit cross legged. I’ve had to trim off wisps of bush! Someone who wears industrial strength bloke’s pants can’t know how flimsy they feel. A few gates and fences will rip them to shreds.

The thing is, not only is Rule No 1 possible at this level of escalation, the fact that it’s escalation at all sort of presupposes escalation could continue.

You’re scaring me right? You just love thinking about all the ordeals you can put me through. It doesn’t matter if they’re hypothetical or not, we’re going to have loads of fun imagining what they’ll feel like if we were reckless enough to do them, aren’t we?

Some of the rules, like gates, fences and wet benches I’m happy and familiar with already, in the dark. Would you like to watch me climb over a gate in broad daylight, in front of a crowd of onlookers? I’ll write that for you if you like. I’ll write all the worst of anything you can think of. It’ll be a thrill because in the back of my mind I have an awful fear that you think you can make me do it for real one day?

“It’s the thought process behind it all.” Amen to that! Can you let me escalate at my own pace? It’s unbearably sexy to tell you that I accept the nine rules, and it’s a breathtaking heart stopper to tell you I’ll allow you to punish me if I break them. Fuck, that makes me feel filthy!

I have one challenge right? A ten pace shuffle with my knickers round my ankles? OK, I’ll do that.

I’m going to go out tonight bound by the rules feeling persecuted and controlled by you.

Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow!