Misunderstanding
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A Misunderstanding - Part 1 free porn video
A Misunderstanding - Part 1
By undiecontrol ([email protected])
"I want you to go and stand in the corner while I work out how to deal
with this." Her voice was steady and assertive, and any anger she felt was
disguised.
"NO!" Simon replied, in an equally firm voice, but with his anger barely
concealed, "I'm not a child! We'll sit down and discuss this like adults."
"You will go and stand in the corner, Simon. Your behaviour has been
childish so I'm going to treat you like a child. Go into the corner!"
"Look!" he shouted, "I've said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have searched
through your knicker drawer. It won't happen again. Let's just sit down
and talk this through. You're overreacting and that's making matters
worse."
"You're the one shouting, not me," she calmly replied. "And I don't
appreciate your condescending tone of voice. You need a period of time to
calm down and reflect, and you will do that while you're in the corner."
He was standing in the bedroom stark naked, having come out of the shower
room only minutes earlier. On entering the bedroom, Emma had been sitting
on the bed, firmly wrapped in a bathrobe, holding a pair of her black
satin thong panties that she had taken from her lingerie drawer. Even
before she had time to speak, Simon had found himself blushing. Somehow,
he didn't know how, she had discovered that he had worn them. Now he was
trying to defend himself and avoid utter humiliation. He'd not had to
stand in the corner since he was at junior school and he didn't enjoy it
much then. Perhaps if this was a game, it might have been fun to be sent
into the corner by Emma, but this was clearly not playtime and she meant
business. Yet he understood his predicament and he realised it had the
potential to get much worse if all the truth came out. He judged it might
be best to go along with her order, if only to defuse the situation. But
first, he thought, one last attempt to gain the upper hand.
"Me standing in the corner will only delay our little chat," he argued.
"Why don't we both get back into bed and work our way through this. Come
on, darling! We can work this out, can't we?"
"If you think you are sleeping with me before this is sorted out then you
are sadly mistaken," she retorted.
"But that's what I want - us to sort this out," he pleaded, his patience
wearing thin. "I want us to deal with this like adults and that means
talking to one another in a rational way."
"Go and stand in the corner," she repeated, pointing in the direction of
the only empty corner in the room.
He decided to change tact in the hope of making light of the situation.
"Why don't you give me a spanking, Emma. That would be punishment. I could
get over your knees."
She had never spanked him before, so she had no idea where that idea had
arisen from but evidently it was something else that he fantasised about.
"We've been together for nearly a year - and you've lived in my house for
two months - and I don't know you at all, Simon. I don't like what I'm
hearing. I seem to be sharing my house - and my bed - with a pervert. You
have one last chance to do what you've been told or else you pack your
bags and go. What's it to be?"
Simon recognised that suggesting a spanking had been a step too far. He
also knew her threat wasn't an idle one - she'd made it clear when he
moved in that it was her house and her rules. If he was to save their
relationship he had no choice but to comply with her demand. So,
reluctantly, and feeling rather humiliated, he moved into the corner so
that he was a foot away from the wall. At the very least he hoped this
cooling off period would give him time to rescue the situation.
"No, Simon," she said. "I want you to get closer. Toes touching the
skirting board and nose touching the wall. Clasp your hands behind your
back. You will stay there for thirty minutes. Keep very still! If you move
or talk I'll reset the clock."
With deep concerns, he did as he was instructed, wondering what was going
to happen after his time was up. How much damage had he caused to their
relationship, he pondered. He couldn't bear losing Emma and was intent on
doing his utmost to repair any damage.
He stood quietly and as steadily as he could. This wasn't like corner time
at school, he recalled. There the miscreant would stand two or three feet
from the corner, turning around whenever the opportunity arose to pull
faces at the class. He didn't want to risk misbehaving here, not with the
mood that Emma was in.
The atmosphere was silent save for the occasional sound that Emma made as
she got dressed and did her hair and make-up. Simon tried to do his best
to use his corner time to work out how to make amends with Emma but he
didn't find facing a blank wall to be conducive to developing a plan.
Instead, he found himself thinking about how attractive Emma was and how
devastated he would be if they split up. She was a gorgeous woman, two
years his senior, and with a beautiful figure which she kept in shape from
regular exercise. He knew he had to salvage the situation but didn't know
how.
After what seemed like an interminable period, there was some movement
from behind and he heard a zip being pulled which he interpreted as her
putting on her jeans. Simon tried to recall how long it normally took her
to get this far. He was sure that he had spent more than thirty minutes
facing the wall. More like an hour he thought. He wondered if she might
have forgotten the time. Should he ask her if his thirty minutes were up?
Fortunately for him, he thought the better of doing that and maintained
his silence, praying that she wouldn't keep him there for much longer. But
still the time dragged on and he found himself counting seconds and then
minutes, all the time feeling a growing inner restiveness which he had to
stifle by keeping dead still.
Finally, Emma spoke. "You may turn around, Simon." Having been only a
couple of inches from the wall for so long, it took his eyes a few seconds
to refocus. She was sitting on the bed wearing blue denim jeans and a red
blouse. Her short blond hair had been carefully brushed and the light
make-up applied to her face accentuated her natural beauty.
He went to move towards her, intent on sitting alongside. "No," she said,
firmly, "I want you to stay standing."
"But can I get dressed, please?" he asked.
"No, I want you like you are," she replied, "And put your hands behind
your back."
Emma could be very assertive, which was probably due to her legal training
and the need to present herself forcefully in what were often male-
dominated courtrooms. Simon looked rather subdued and she felt vindicated
that thirty minutes in the corner had calmed him down. In reality, he was
extremely tense but he feared so much for his relationship with Emma that
his plan, if you could call it that, was to play it by ear and to let Emma
start the talking.
She looked at him for a good thirty seconds before opening the dialogue.
"Listen, Simon," she said, "What I have discovered today has shocked me
and I want to try to understand what's been happening. You have to be
completely honest with me. Do you understand? Is that clear?"
He nodded and she picked up the black panties that were still on the bed.
He felt himself blush again. "Are you going to deny that you have been
wearing these? If you tell me any lies, then you go back into the corner
for another thirty minutes. It's Saturday so we have all day if we need
it. Do you agree that you have worn this thong?"
Simon replied with a nod. "Sorry, I didn't catch that," she responded.
"Yes," he said meekly, after a moment's hesitation.
"Well, let me hear you admit it properly. Say 'Yes, Emma, I have worn your
black thong.'"
His face turned a shade of scarlet as he repeated her words, "Yes, Emma, I
have worn your black thong."
"Good, now we are getting somewhere. Do you know what gave the game away?"
she enquired.
"No," he replied, wondering what she was getting at.
"They're stained!" she announced, forcefully. She stood up and pushed the
inside of the front panel to within a few inches of his face. "See," she
said. "White stains in knickers taken from a drawer of supposedly clean
knickers. Did you jerk off in them?
"No, Emma, honestly I didn't," he exclaimed. He paused for a few seconds
before adding, "They're pre-cum stains, you know, they're ..."
"Yes, I know what pre-cum stains are, thank you very much. So you wore
them, got aroused, leaked and then put them back in the drawer. Is that
what happened?
He took a deep breath to control his rapid breathing. "Yes, darling. ...
I'm really sorry. It won't happen again."
"But how many times has it happened before, Simon?" she exhorted. "Do you
normally avoid the dark coloured ones so the marks don't show?"
"No! ... I mean, ... I've only ever worn that one pair." He felt himself
panicking because of her line of questioning.
"You're lying, aren't you?"
"Why would I lie?" he asked, trying to look as if his feelings had been
hurt.
"Obviously because you don't want to dig a deeper hole for yourself. Are
you telling me that this is the first and only time you have ever worn my
knickers? What about other girl's knickers?" She gave him no chance to
reply before she continued. "Are you saying that at the age of 30, you
suddenly, and without any background with this fetish, developed a
penchant for wearing female underwear? If that's what you are saying then
I don't believe you. You don't suddenly acquire this urge. You must have
done this before. Well, say something!" She'd been spewing out words like
a burst of machine gun fire but now it was his turn to speak.
He felt very uncomfortable and thought for a few seconds before replying.
"Yes, I've done it before," he slowly replied, his eyes focussed intently
on a bit of fluff on the carpet, unable to look directly at Emma.
"Look at me! Let me see your shame and embarrassment!"
He looked up. "I'm sorry, darling," he responded, tears welling in his
eyes.
She continued with her relentless interrogation "Whose have your worn? If
you tell lies, you are going back into the corner. Let's have the truth
first time for once!"
"My older sister's when I was a teenager," he replied. "She never found
out. Please don't tell her."
Emma ignored his request. "And who else's?" He hesitated momentarily
before quietly replying, "My previous girlfriend's - Sarah's. She found
out and that's why she broke up with me. Please don't break up with me
Emma. I love you!"
"You said a minute ago that you had only ever worn one pair of mine. Was
that the truth? Should I go and inspect my lingerie drawer? If you've been
lying then it's back into the corner."
He took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was to go back into the
corner but her interrogation was merciless. "Sorry, Emma, I lied," he
said, deciding that honesty might be his best option. "I have worn others
in the past."
Calmly, she replied to him, "I told you not to tell me any lies. Go into
the corner for another 30 minutes and then we'll try again."
This time, feeling defeated and dejected, he did as he was told without
question or argument. For the second time that morning he underwent his
childish punishment, wondering to himself what more Emma would manage to
winkle out of him. If time seemed to stand still last time, then now it
appeared to go backwards. Never in his life had thirty minutes taken so
long. As a punishment, this was very effective. But what concerned him
more was that his attempts so far to mend their relationship had only made
matters worse.
"Right," announced Emma after the half hour had passed. "Turn around and
we will try again. How often have you worn my knickers?"
He swallowed hard. "I do it two or three times a week," he replied, his
cheeks all aglow.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How do you find the time?"
"I usually do it when you go to your aerobics classes in the evenings. I
wear them for a couple of hours while you're out."
She was clearly puzzled that she hadn't spotted this before and seeing her
quizzical expression he explained, "I usually take them out of the dirty
laundry bag."
"Usually?" she asked. "So that means that sometimes you don't?"
He hesitated. "Sometimes I wear your clean ones but I put on an
unlubricated condom to contain any leakage." He was now blushing intensely
as he gave away his sordid secrets. "I'm really sorry, Emma!"
"So what happened this time?" she asked, holding up her black thong.
"I ran out of condoms," he replied. "I wrapped my penis in a tissue but I
guess some stuff must have leaked through and I didn't notice."
"How very careless," she muttered sarcastically. Going over to her
drawers, she opened the middle one and took out a black bra. "Do you wear
my bras as well?"
He flushed. "No! .... They're not my size."
"Not your size!" she mimicked in a mocking tone. "And what exactly is your
size?"
"I mean they look too small. You're thinner than me. They wouldn't fit me.
And I wouldn't wear them. Honest!"
"What size am I?"
"You're a 36C," he replied.
"So you've checked the labels to find out? And what size are you?"
"I don't know! How would I know?"
"You're lying again, aren't you? You know what size you are - at least you
know your band size although I guess you don't have a cup size. So I will
ask you again. What size are you?
He swallowed hard, fearful of what was to come. "38," he meekly answered.
"I prefer a 38C."
"Back into the corner," she announced with a tone of finality. "I won't
have you lying to me."
So for the third time that morning, Simon found himself standing very
close to a blank wall for thirty minutes of sheer boredom. He desperately
wanted the time to end so that he could repair his wrecked relationship
although he still could not see a way out. Emma had a way of knowing when
he was lying but the more the truth came out, the worse his predicament
became.
His thoughts were disturbed as Emma said, "Time to start again, Simon.
Turn around."
She waited for him to stand in front of her as she sat on the bed again.
"Right! I'm going to take it as read that you have worn a bra in the past.
I assume you don't deny that?
"No, darling," he replied.
"Don't you call me darling!"
He hesitated, feeling very flustered "... Sorry, .. Emma."
"Have you ever worn my bras?"
He stared at the floor, his silence betraying his guilt.
She continued, "I take it that's a yes, then? But you said they were too
small?"
"They are, but I can just about make them stretch."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," exclaimed Emma. "Not content with just
soiling my panties, you have also been stretching my bras. That certainly
explains one or two things. How much worse can this get. What else of mine
do you wear?
"Your clothes don't fit me, Emma."
"Well, you manage to get my panties on and also my bras. What about my
skirts? Have you ever worn one of my skirts?"
He paused, looking down again. "A couple of times," he replied honestly.
"But they don't do up properly."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," she mocked. "How thoughtless of me to buy the
wrong size. What else have you worn that belongs to me?"
Again he hesitated considering how to reply. Emma detested this delay.
"You're working out what lie you can get away with, aren't you?"
"No, Emma! Honestly, I'm not. I'm just thinking. Er... I've worn your
tights!"
"So, when I'm not here you usually mince around the house wearing my
panties, bra and tights. Is that right?"
"Yes ... no! You're getting me confused, Emma. I wear them but I don't
mince around. Usually I put trousers and a shirt on top - my trousers and
shirts! - not yours!"
"That's meant to make me feel better is it? Do you ever leave the house
dressed up?"
Without hesitation, he replied "No, Emma. I've never done that because I'd
be too embarrassed. What would happen if I had an accident and was taken
to hospital?"
"What would happen if you fell down the stairs inside the house and were
taken to hospital? Would that be less embarrassing?" He hadn't thought of
that.
"Have you ever worn my lingerie while I have been here?"
"Once," he said. "You'd gone shopping for clothes and got back early. I
didn't hear you arrive until you came in the front door and asked me to
help carry in the bags from your car. I didn't have time to change but
fortunately I wasn't wearing a bra."
"Lucky you!" she replied. "But you told me a few minutes ago that you'd
never left the house dressed. Now you tell me you went outside to bring
stuff from my car. You were lying again so back into the corner for
another thirty minutes."
This time he felt compelled to respond. "But, Emma, I wasn't including
just popping out to the car. I was talking about going to work or the pub
wearing lingerie. You must have misunderstood."
"I understood perfectly," she replied. "Go back into the corner - it's now
45 minutes you'll be spending there unless you want me to increase it to
an hour?"
Shamefaced, he made his way back to the corner knowing that further
arguments were futile.
"I've heard all I want to hear and I need to get a breath of fresh air so
I'm going for a walk." He heard her open a drawer and, a few seconds
later, she pulled his wrists together and tightly bound them with a pair
of her pantyhose. Then, taking the black thong, she inserted it between
his nose and the wall. "If that's on the floor when I get back then I'll
know you've fidgeted," she explained. "With your hands tied behind your
back there's no way you can pick it up again so make sure it doesn't
fall."
"And don't think this brings the matter to a conclusion," she added. "I'm
going to think of how you should be punished!" With that, she left the
room, pulling the door firmly shut, and leaving Simon to contemplate his
fate and reflect on his wretched day.
Bree
- 18.05.2021
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