It was a toxic relationship. He was very controlling, not violent to me but, he controlled as much of my life as he could. When we first got together the sex was out of this world. He could turn me inside out just by sticking his dick in me. It was hot sweaty and wild, just how sex should be.
Eventually the great sex wasn’t enough to counteract the control, and I decided to plan my escape.
I wanted out, but had no money. He controlled it all. Anything he wanted, he bought, but I was only allowed to buy groceries. He checked every credit card receipt to make sure there was nothing on there that shouldn’t be. If I stepped too far out of line he would lock me in our bedroom, which luckily has an en suite, and I’d only be allowed out to cook meals.
Luckily, I had a close and trusted friend. The bonus was that he trusted her too. She knew I wanted out and she helped me a lot. We opened a joint bank account and she started it off with fifty quid. She got me a prepaid phone which I had to keep well hidden and never used when he was about.
I’m good with a sewing machine and because he trusted her, he didn’t mind me going over to hers. She had a sewing machine and I started making clothes which she sold for me. It brought in some money which he didn’t know about, but it was going to be a long time before I had enough to get out.
This went on for about a year, then the gods smiled on me. He got into a fight outside the pub one night. From what I’ve been told, he was losing, so he pulled a knife and stabbed his opponent, killing him.
He was arrested and charged with murder. Eventually he made a deal and pleaded guilty to manslaughter, and was sent down for fifteen years.
I was in court to hear the verdict and I was smiling all the way home.
This was my way out. I started to sell everything. His car, all his high end electronics, his designer clothes. Lets face it, they would all be well out of date by the time he got out.
We rented the house, unfurnished, so most of the furniture went too. I had enough money now to move. I just left. I didn’t tell the landlord. The lease was in his name. They could sort it out with him in prison.
I’m now living in a small house in a village about 150 miles away. I have a job and am making new friends. I still keep in touch with my old one too.
Life is getting better. I went for counselling to become more assertive and improve my confidence. The self defence courses I took also improved my confidence. I pretty happy now but I still feel there is something missing. I don’t know what it is though.
It wasn’t sex I was missing. I’d had a few dates and been fucked a couple of times.
One was absolutely amazing. The guy took his time warming me up. I came on his fingers, and on his face, then many times as he ploughed my wet hole. If he hadn’t showed signs of control I would have had him again.
The other thought he was god’s gift to women. He was a bit bigger than average and thought all he had to do was stick it in and I would come. He came, I didn’t and he went.
A few weeks later I went back to visit my friend. We were sat outside a cafe just drinking coffee, chatting and people watching when I saw her.
She was a tall blonde woman walking briskly down the street. That’s not unusual, but she was different. She had big boobs and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her boobs were moving freely under her thin jumper and her nipples were clearly visible, poking at the thin material.
I looked at the men as she walked past and most of them were openly watching her. She didn’t seem to notice them, just kept walking and her boobs kept bouncing.
She showed so much confidence. I began to wish that I could be so confident.
This woman stuck in my mind. Although my confidence had grown since I left my old home, I didn’t think I would dare to do that.
One morning as I was dressing I checked out my boobs. They weren’t as big as that woman, but were a reasonable size and didn’t droop too much. I slipped on a thin sweater and walked briskly across the bedroom towards the full length mirror.
Wow! I was amazed. I looked pretty good. My boobs were bouncing well and my nipples were hardening as they moved inside the thin material. It was one thing to do it in my bedroom, a totally different thing to do it in public. I put a bra on, finished dressing and had breakfast before heading to work.
Throughout the day the thoughts of the morning kept coming back to me. I remembered the feel of freedom without a bra and the sensation of the material on my nipples, It was quite arousing.
Still wondering if I would ever have the nerve to go out in public like that, I took off my bra as soon as I got home. I felt wonderful.
To push myself, I went out into the garden. It’s fairly secluded so there was a slim chance of being seen. It was still a big step for me. The cool evening air instantly hardened my nipples and I looked down to see them poking proud. I was also getting a bit horny with the feeling.
I went to bed and masturbated to ease the horniness. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to go out in public braless, but I couldn’t get up the nerve to do it.
The next weekend I had to go to a nearby town for my weekly groceries. In my mind I was going to go braless where it was unlikely that I’d be recognised, but I was still very nervous about doing it.
I was wearing a bra when I left home. I didn’t want my neighbours to have any idea what I was planning.
I finished my grocery shopping and loaded it into the car, and went for a wander around town. Finally I made my mind up, but one problem remained. How do I get my bra off in a crowded street.
As I was pondering this, I walked past a dress shop. Just the place. I went in and picked a couple of dresses to take to the changing room. One of them, a white knee length summer dress with a button front, took my fancy. I came out of the changing room with my bra in my handbag and went to the cashier to buy the dress. The cashier was a man and I was apprehensive about being too close to a man in my braless state.
I needn’t have worried. He took a good look at my boobs and smiled as he served me. That eased my concerns a lot.
Out on the street, I forced myself to walk briskly with my head held high. My boobs were jiggling nicely and I could see the admiring glances from the men. I felt really empowered. It was such a thrill that I decided I had to do it more often.
I’d done this a few times and it was fun, but I wondered if I could take things a bit further. Would I dare? What else would I feel comfortable with? I certainly wasn’t going to go fully naked.
On my next trip into town I wore the dress I’d just bought. Underneath was just a pair of white panties. I had the top buttons undone to just above my boobs and the bottom ones to just below my pussy.
The walk across the bedroom test was great. The dress was loose enough at the top that my boobs had room to move about, and the bottom was just right to show a flash of white panties as I walked.