Relax. This did not happen... and it never will.
"Will that be all for ya?", the new kid behind the counter asks with a noticeable disinterest in his own question.
"Let'd do a shooter of the Jim Beam Green Apple too". My voice trembles a bit. It's obvious that I haven't been in here in a while - and the fact that I'm in here now is a mixture of exciting and disappointing.
He grabs the tiny bottle from behind the glass with no interest in small talk (or my ID for that matter). I've never seen him here before, but I haven't been here in months. He could be brand new - or he could be coming up on a year at this liquor store. I guess I'll never really know. Nor do I care.
"$53.23", he says as he starts unfolding a paper bag. This habit is more expensive than I remember. But it's fine - I'm not going that far down the rabbit hole this time. Two drinking days a month. That's it.
I tap my card and he gently rests the bottle of Maker's into the now standing bag. The shooter thereafter. Before I know it the receipt is in the bag and I'm taking inventory in my car.
One 1.75 of Maker's Mark, a two liter of Coke, the shooter of Jim, and a 12 pack of some hazy IPA I've never tried before. Only took a few pit stops.
"This will last a while", I tell myself as I put my key in the ignition. "It has to. I just need to show some restraint this time."
As I start down the road I've driven so many times before, I start to think of the exciting things waiting for me at home. At this very moment there is probably a gigantic box or two sitting on my porch. What's inside is enough to get my heart racing.
I grip the steering wheel and daydream about my new gear - pretty soon the daydream will be a reality.
In a bubble wrapped cardboard box sits a wax kit, a new chastity cage, stockings, wigs, lingerie, skirts, butt plugs, dildos/tentacles, vibrators, and more. I can't quite remember what I spent - but I'd guess upwards of $500-$700. And it won't be enough. It will never be enough.
I bite my lip as I leave town and head up the hill. Only a couple more miles now. I start to remember even more stuff that I ordered. Multiple multi packs of thongs/cute undies, bunny suits and body stockings, cute sleeves and aheago masks, makeup makeup makeup!
"Fuck, maybe it was closer to $800-$900 dollars", I say to myself as I pull onto my street. My heart is now pounding through my chest. House after house. Driveway after driveway. Until finally I pull into my own.
Three large boxes sit on my porch. I swallow hard. It's easily over $1000 worth of stuff - especially after the booze. I am uncertain of how to feel about myself in this moment. This feels oddly like progress - but with a simultaneous retrograde. As if I am happily moving in the wrong direction. I exit my vehicle as the thought continues.
"So long as I work when I need to work, and play when I get to play... everything will be fine. Stay disciplined."
I pass by the boxes and stick my key in the door. The labels are inconspicuous. Not that I care at this point. I need this.
After about ten minutes the treasures are loaded inside. The three boxes sit before me, alongside a box cutter and a solo unopened beer. I check the stove clock, 2:23 PM.
"Well I guess it's time to get this party started."
The sharp knife glides across the taped seams as a lo-fi playlist fills the house. I smile as I peel back the flaps in opposite directions. Larger boxes lead to smaller boxes. And those smaller boxes lead to treasures. It feels like Christmas. Soon enough, the entirety of my living room floor is covered in garments and objects. I am in heaven.
The beer, still unopened, now sits on my bathroom floor next to the slowly heating wax kit. Makeup bottles and brushes are spread across my bathroom counter. This is it. This is the exact moment I've thought about a hundred times over. Going hairless from the eyebrows down...
I pop the top on the beer and raise it to my lips. There is a familiar smell to it - and a rush of nostalgia washes over me. A year and change of sobriety soon to be washed down the drain. And why? I don't need to drink to enjoy these new toys.
I think it is about having access to something that I lost access to previously. Something that was taken away from me is now mine again. Both the booze, and her.
I'm taking them back and proving to myself that I can have these things responsibly. Play during playtime only. And only two drinking days a month...
Time will tell if I can manage it properly. But I have the right to know.
The cold, crisp, bitter taste passes over my lips and then down my throat. 2, 3, 4 gulps. I feel the familiar burn of the alcohol - something the N/A options all lacked. I moan at the deliciousness. 6, 7 gulps and then a breather. The night is young - remember to pace yourself.
Just then an unfamiliar beep sounds off behind me - the wax kit. Hot and ready for use. I bite my lip again as I stare into the boyish reflection staring back at me.
Goodbye old friend. Never knew ya.
I have the entire itinerary in place for tonight.
No clothes or toys until after I've waxed my body... this could take hours... I've no clue - being that I've never done it. But yes, wax first. Next, a hot shower and prep myself for the toys.
Then moisturize and skin care on the fresh bare skin. Start experimenting with make up. I've seen enough tutorials to at least get my feet wet. Then plugs, panties, wigs, lingerie.... ugh the night will be jam packed....
Ideally it ends with my on a webcam... going full girl mode with a hot stranger somewhere across the world. He will watch my use my new toy collection, and I will moan his name and wish he was in my bedroom with me....
Snap back to reality, and the first Popsicle stick of hot wax envelopes over my shin. It is hot but bearable. Anything for the desired end result.
A few more gulps of Hazy, and it's time to start pulling. Rip after rip the hair comes off clean. The wax is truly getting the job done - you get what you pay for. Each rip and peel of the dried wax is like peeling off my old skin - like I'm shedding into something more beautiful with every passing moment.
Hours later, and it is finally done. I'm sore - but I managed to get it all done. My cock grew hard multiple times throughout the process, especially the part when I decided to leave a little landing strip for aesthetic. Two empty beer cans rest on the back of the toilet as I lift my body up from the floor.
The cold shower feels amazing. My soft skin will probably slight ache for the rest of the night, but that was much more effective than simply shaving. Another loud pop echoes through the bathroom as I crack a third IPA. Whiskey after this one.
The washcloth and soap feels amazing down this new skin. My cock continues its routine - standing and softening. I need the cage.
I hear my phone alarm go off on the counter. 6 PM now. I shut the water off and start to towel down.
The real fun is about to begin.
(end part one... maybe part two soon idk)
