I’m not a hugely visual creature, if you’re a regular reader of subsmissives, you’ll know that already. By my own admission, I’m a relatively clever (and modest) chap, and a lot of what gets my motor running happens in my brain. However, I do have one weakness. Stockings. Ok, it’s slightly more complex than that, because it’s stockings worn with a garter belt.
What is there to love about stockings? Only every damn thing!
Visually, they are just so pleasing; they give the leg extra definition, contrast and shape. Accentuating the finer points, and brushing over the blemishes. Teamed with the garter belt and the whole set up suddenly turns into a work of art.
Regardless of what the centrepiece looks like, stockings and a garter belt are the sexiest frame you could possibly hope to imagine. It doesn’t matter if you view from the front or back, the frame of stocking tops, straps and belt just draw the eye to the physical beauty it surrounds.
The rear is just genius – the way the stockings sit just below the buttocks, the garter straps showing the curves of the bum, the belt creating a boundary below which lies the divine. From the front, the garter straps point down the legs, elongating the figure, drawing the eye downward, causing the head to bow to the supremacy of the female form.
And this is where it turns from being a hugely visual stimulant to pulling at the grey matter.
Maybe it’s linked to the experiences of my youth, but even just writing about stockings has caused my breathing to change. I’m struggling to write this one because my mind keeps wandering, compounded by the search for an image to include with the post.
The stockings just work their way into my conscious, taking it over, burying deeper into my mind, looking for the subconscious until every word I type is stockings stockings stockings.
It’s like my mind is in a state of standby, just waiting for the word.
M knows the effect stockings have on me, and utilises this knowledge with wisdom. If we’re taking a night away, she only needs to put them in the overnight bag and I become putty in her hands.
When she wears stockings, the effect is magnified tenfold. I just spend the whole time in some dream world, imagining what she must look like beneath the clothes she is wearing. We have been to the cinema in such circumstances before, and I honestly couldn’t even tell you what we saw, let alone details of the plot.
If I’m extra lucky, she might let me feel her legs in the stockings, or maybe feel the buckle beneath her skirt or trousers. It’s all part of the tease. Part of the control she has over me – letting my mind race without knowing whether I might ever see what it imagines.