House Slut 9 – Tegan’s Day Out

To her surprise and, to some extent confusion, her discussion with Angus this morning had cleared her head a lot. She understood that while she had offered herself to be used and objectified, she was still a willing participant. Inasmuch as being intimidated or even a little scared was an appealing part of the game, it was comforting to know that her housemates seemed to understand it was a game, one with rules even if those rules were sometimes unspoken, and that pushing too far to upset the balance would end the game early.

Of course now that her spirits had lifted and she was left to her own devices for the day, she was left with a maddening amount of free time. Angus had deliberately – the bastard – left her in a state of frustration and then expressly forbidden her to do anything about it. She was also tired of oversleeping and every waking minute being filled with sex. There was slightly more to life.

So, she cleaned.

Throwing on an old light dress and some comfortable slip on shoes she set about cleaning. With the buttplug in place her underwear didn’t suit quite right so after experimentally trying a pair on she changed her mind and kicked them back off. Her dress was in a backless style where the front was mainly two wide strips of material that covered her breasts and tied in a knot behind her back, and the skirts came to about her knees. Normally she was lazy about housework but now that she had some free time and a lot of energy she felt like doing something about it. She proceeded to put away her clothing and make her room more presentable since she was entertaining visitors on the regular. After a trips to the bin to get rid of random garbage that had accumulated she set about dusting and vacuuming, though she opted to leave the other bedrooms alone – she was their sex slave, not their maid.

Every step caused the plug to move around inside her and made her think about the ben wa balls she had hidden in an old lunchbox under her bed, and how amazing they would feel right now, but she had to forcefully push those thoughts aside. If she went down that rout she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing something about her mounting sexual frustration. So instead she attended to the housework she had been neglecting. After vacuuming she gave the bathroom a cursory once over, feeling vulnerable and drifting into a daydream about one of the guys sneaking up and surprising her from behind as she bent over the tub to give it a quick once over. She dismissed the thought and focused on wiping down the tub so it was sparkling again. Once she wiped down the tiles and was stinking thoroughly of chlorine bleach she brought out the mop and bucket to attend to the floors in the kitchen and bathroom.

Finally, feeling sweaty from exertion, she put all the cleaning stuff away and seeing it was barely after 11, pondered what to do next. Really the only thing that sprang to mind was the grocery shopping and it would be good to get out of the house for a while. Grabbing her purse and the shopping list from the fridge, she hunted down the elusive envelope everyone put their contributions to the grocery money and stuffed it in her wallet before stepping outside. Usually the communal groceries were purchased every few days and the supermarket was in walking distance so she generally forewent using her car for short trips.

She was halfway to the supermarket before the first strong breeze swirled up her dress and reminded her she was walking around without underwear on. The skirt of the dress only just came to the knee and when the wind caught up it is immediately billowed out until she slapped it back down. She stopped walking and frantically looked up and down the street for witnesses. She didn’t think she’d exposed herself but it certainly made her realise she might have. She had been aware of the plug when she made the decision to walk of course, having it there only served to make her more frustrated with every step, but she’d completely forgotten that she lacked that extra layer of modesty when the weather and her dress conspired against each other. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the street. Being the middle of the week and the middle of the day, most people were at work so there were fewer people hanging around in residential neighbourhoods to bear witness to, well, anything.

She decided to keep going – turning back to change into something more secure and modest would be a waste of time. Not that she was in a huge hurry, but she didn’t feel like doubling the length of her trip. She walked carefully the rest of the way, worried that walking too quickly might be asking for trouble, and kept one hand swinging loosely by her side, ready to snap into action if her skirts caught a guest of wind again. She cutting down a narrow laneway next to the market building when the wind struck again. She immediately snapped her arms to her sides to hold her skirt in place but an appreciative whistle from behind her told her she hadn’t been fast enough and her face flushed with embarrassment.