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My Fantasy About Being Caught

I've always seemed to have had a thing about being dominated by girls . When I was about 12 or 13 I used to go and see some friends of my parents. They had a son and a daughter, the daughter was older than me. She was called Dianne, and she had a friend who lived next door called Sarah. If the two girls were together we could play 'pirates' or 'adventurers', where the boys had to steal the 'treasure' off the girls. One of the first times we played this game I got captured by the girls. They told me that as I was their slave and I had to take my shirt off. I did as they said, and it felt "funny". Then I had to pretend that I was tied up as they plotted what they were going to do with me. I liked being bare chested and it was  'nice' pretending to strain at my imaginary bonds. The other boys would have to rescue me from the girls who had me captured. Whenever we visited these friends I would desperately hope we were going to play the game. 

And guess who always got captured?

Soon I discovered the joys of masturbation. When I started to masturbate over pictures of girls in catalogues or magazines, I became obsessed that they knew boys masturbated over them. I would look at them and wonder what they thought about the fact that so many men were getting off over them.

When I was in my late teens I worked in a supermarket and, if we worked the hours right, we were given a half day twice a month. This meant I could return home when no-one was in. I would, being that young age, plan my half days around masturbating. On the way home I would buy two, three or even four pornographic magazines.

Eventually it became exciting if the women or girls who I worked with asked what I was doing on my day off. Of course I couldn't tell them what I had planned, but I started to imagine that they knew exactly what I was doing. I began to secretly hope that they would all confront me. Then when I got on the bus I would imagine what the girls or women I saw on the bus would think if they knew what I was going to do. Together with the "shame" of buying the magazines my masturbation 'sessions' centred around these feelings.

When I began to work in London it became easier to buy magazines, and sometimes it became an obsession. I would decide that a certain day would be 'magazine day'. Then all day I would pretend that any girl I spoke to, knew what I was going to do on my way home.
 
One exciting thing was that I worked in an office that was predominantly ran by women and girls. When they sometimes let me go early, I used to imagine that they were doing it so they could find me out later. If I had the opportunity to leave early, I would catch the attention of the girls in the office, and make sure I let them know I was leaving early. Always hoping that they would guess what I was going to do on my way home and when I eventually got home. This would fuel my fantasy and the journey home would be a nightmare, as there would be so many more girls to look at. Inside my head they all knew what I was going to do. I would imagine that they were staring and that they knew.

Buying the magazines would be a letdown as the newsagent would always be an Asian man! I always wanted a group of girls to be serving when I bought my magazines and that they would ask why I was buying them, and what was I going to do to myself when I got home. 

The journey would be fraught with danger - what if a group of girls wanted to look in my bag containing five pornographic magazines? How embarrassing for me if they found them and questioned me! 

Once I had got in I would strip naked and lie in bed surrounded by the magazines. Then I would start looking at them page by page choosing the most sternest looking girls to start my fantasy. I began to think about the girls or women who had seen me in the day, hoping they would walk in and find me in such an embarrassing situation. Finding me naked with pornographic magazines around me I'd have no excuse for what I was doing. I'd imagine them standing there with their hands on their hips.

"What on earth are you doing you dirty boy?!" or "Oh look he's doing it! We've found him!" they'd shout. 

Sometimes I would imagine they were giggling and enjoying my humiliation. Other times I would imagine they were extremely angry and disgusted. But in both cases they would tell me that they are going to tell all the girls I knew, what they had caught me doing! Then I'd imagine trying to say some sort of excuse but of course I would never, ever have an excuse no  matter what I tried to say! Then as I would start to come, I would imagine the girls were all there, shouting, laughing and giggling. I have always wondered what it would feel like to be coming in such a humiliating situation. I can't possibly  emulate the feeling of such embarrassment when I'm on my own. Although I do try!

I have bought expensive female domination magazines and tried female domination phone lines, but they are too far and too much for me. I just want that feeling of being caught, the knowledge that the girls had found me. This doesn't stem from being caught years ago, I always did it when I knew I would never be caught. God forbid that I was caught then! It also has nothing to do with being caught doing it anywhere public or anything like that! No way! Just being found out at home or in some situation where girls would find me out in an exciting way. I think it comes down to the thought of my being undressed and vulnerable and them being dressed and in control. To most of you this fantasy is probably very tame. I don't want the girls to spank me, or make me wear their knickers or anything like that. 

I would be extremely interested in your thoughts on this fantasy, especially any stories related to it. Message me!

Now that I've posted this, it will really get me thinking about all the hundreds of women and men knowing my secret...



Posted on: 2018-09-10 00:01:02 | Author: