(In)Decently Exposed

A-shirts (or wife-beaters as so many of us call them)...those darn little shirts!  What else can I say? 

Plenty actually.  Let me start with...

I really hate that Daddy loves them so much. But of course He loves them.

They are tight, see-through, and best of all, He can torment me by making me wear them. Something to make me squirm right out of my comfort zone for sure!!

One of my assignments several weeks ago was to purchase the smallest size wife-beater I could possibly fit into. I walked back and forth in Wal-Mart agonizing over what size to buy.  Nothing from the men's department was small enough, so I ended up in the boy's department wondering if anything there was big enough.  To make matters worse, unless I was missing something, they only sell them in sealed packages like T-shirts so it's not like you can take one in the dressing room and try it on.  Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I tore the pack open so I could at least pull one out.

Holding it up against myself, I decided it would work and now didn't feel so bad since I was buying the pack I already ripped opened.   

Later that night, I came into His office with shirts in hand showing that I had completed His assignment.  He asked that I model one for Him.  When I finally contorted myself enough to get it on, the shirt (does it even qualify as a shirt?) was so small that the ribbed texture was pulled taut across my tits and was short enough to expose several inches of my belly.  Oh and let's not forget to mention that no part of my nipples were left to the imagination, which of course, pleased Him immensely above all else. 

After explaining that He would have plans for the shirts at a later time, He sent me to put them away for safe keeping. 

Well, it just so happened that I noticed one of those wife-beaters made it into His car just a few short days later.  Seeing it there every time we went anywhere made me extremely nervous but after a couple weeks, I eventually stopped thinking about it.   

So, a few nights ago, we were enjoying a nice evening out to dinner, just the two of us.  The waiter set down my pomegranate margarita and after the first sip, I commented on how strong the alcohol was. 

I suggest you drink two then, since you will be wearing your wife-beater into the gas station before we go home. 

It really took a second for this to sink in because I was already scantily clad, wearing a tank top without a bra and shorty shorts to dinner.  What was the big deal about going into the gas station in what I was wearing if I had gone into a restaurant? 

Then it occurred to me what He meant.  He was referring to the "other" shirt that had been patiently waiting in His car for just the right opportunity. 

I tried to stay calm during throughout the rest of dinner and just tell myself...Maybe Daddy's toying with my mind again.

But I started getting a little worried after dinner when He detoured, and we were no longer driving in the direction of home. 

Then, I got ALOT worried when He told me to change shirts.

Much to my relief, after about a 30 minute drive, we ended up at a park. 

Whew...He was messing with my mind, I thought to myself. 

It was almost dark and pretty much deserted so I didn't mind being somewhat exposed when He parked the car and headed up a small trail into the woods.  But it really was getting dark, so after walking just a little ways and sneaking in a few kisses, we turned back. 

As we got to the car, I mentioned how I really needed to pee so He stopped by a restroom we had passed, still within the park.  I ran up to the door only to find it already locked up for the night, but I assured Him it was no big deal...I could make it home.

However, as we turned onto the main road after exiting the park, I spotted a gas station.  The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me He was about to turn in and He did.  Even as He pulled up into the parking spot, I clung to hope that it was all still part of His sadistic mind game.  It wasn't though and I knew it wasn't when He handed me His debit card and a lottery ticket. 

You are going to go inside, go to the bathroom, get me a diet coke, and cash in this lottery ticket. 

"You really want me to do this?"

Yes, go!

"But there are people sitting right there...and...and...look you can see!" (pointing to my chest, like He didn't already know)

I'm not telling you again...GO...right now!

I just had to find a few moments of courage and hope that there weren't too many people inside but it sure would have helped if the alcohol hadn't already worn off.  Luckily, we were no where close to home so at least the chances of running into anyone we knew were slim to none.

I closed the car door and as I walked in front of the car parked next to us, I just knew the woman in the front passenger seat was staring at me. I'm sure any meager attempt to casually hide my chest behind the lottery ticket was fruitless. 

Walking into the convenience store, I instantly turned to the right avoiding the path that would lead me right past the registers and people.  I made it to the bathroom fairly unnoticed and took care of business.  While washing my hands, I studied myself in the mirror and shifted the shirt around to see if there was any way to disguise my nipples, even just a little bit, but there wasn't. Couldn't stand there forever, so I just decided to get on with it.   

Leaving the bathroom, I retraced my previous path back to the coolers where I grabbed His diet soda.  Again, I had gone unnoticed.  Then, I looked around and made a bee line for the register while the cashier had her back turned and there was no one else around.  As the cashier turned around to ring me up, she either was trying really hard not to look at my boobs or the counter between us acted as a pretty good buffer because she didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

I wasn't out of the woods quite yet.  I still had to walk out of the store and back to the car.  Sure enough, the woman in the parked car, who watched me walk in, was still sitting there and now a man was occupying the driver's seat.  Call me paranoid, but I am pretty sure they were waiting for me come out, most likely hoping to confirm if they really saw what they thought they saw.  Well, they certainly had front row seats now didn't they?! 

Nothing I could do at that point but let them have their little look-see while I kept my eyes on Daddy and made it back to the car. 

There have been plenty of limits He can push and eventually whatever my hang-up is with that particular thing seems fade away after a while.  I don't know about this one though.  It just never seems to get any easier, and I suppose that's why He keeps at it.