"May I take your coat?"

That was the first time it happened. I will never forget the look on that waiter's face when I removed my coat to reveal nothing more than a black satin negligee. You are probably wondering why somebody would choose to come to a restaurant dressed only in their sexy lingerie but the truth of the matter was, that there was really no choice to be made. The ability to choose to wear anything over my underwear had been taken away from me. Of course at first I did not believe it, I mean who would? If somebody tells you that from now on, whenever you leave the house you would do so wearing only a long fake fur coat and sexy lingerie, would you believe them? Of course not.

When the next invite out came though, it all became very clear that he was not bluffing. Try as I might, I could not wear anything other than the negligee, I wanted to but it was impossible. It occurred to me that the best thing to do was to cancel, but it soon turned out that that was out of the question also. Along with the suggestion to only wear a coat and underwear out of the house, it also transpired that it was impossible for me to cancel any date, meeting or invitation. If somebody asked me out somewhere, I had to say yes (unless I was already pre-booked) and once I had said yes, I would be forced to make good on the invitation. He had really thought of everything.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, so there I am standing in the middle of a restaurant, cleavage spilling out of this tiny cutting of black satin that almost managed to fully cover my ass, whilst the waiter stares in disbelief at what he sees. And he was not the only one, not by a long shot. My date for the evening, Tim I think his name was, was equally stunned. You see I had just joined one of those internet dating sites that guarantees they will find the perfect partner for you in three month or less, and Tim was their first match up. He seemed nice as well; well spoken, polite, he even tried his best not to look straight at my breasts the first moment I took off the coat. But even a nice guy like him didn't stand a chance with the conditioning I'd been given. You see, well it's a long story.

It all started around three weeks before that night in the restaurant. I had just got out of a very destructive long term relationship and decided I needed to get back out into society, meet some new people, maybe even try dating again. My ex though, well he didn't agree. I'd tried to break up with him many times before but each time he knew how to say the right things for me to give him "just one more chance" because maybe he "could really change" this time. But this time things were different, he had degraded me for the last time and I was not going to take it anymore, it was over and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, as it turns out, I was half right. After a couple of weeks of fighting and begging and telling me that nobody else would want a "whore like me", he gave up.

"Fine! it's over, we're through!" he'd said. "You just see where your life takes you without me around, you'll regret the day you ever tried to break up with me!"

And that was the last I saw of him. However, even though I never saw him again, he still found ways to get at me. First there were the night callers. For ten days, lonely middle aged men were turning up at my door, you see, my ex had taken itself upon him to print out a number of fliers advertising the services of Naughty Nicki: House Slut. The fliers had my address and picture and so not only did I have these people calling at my house, I had to dealing with their angst (and sometimes their drunken advances) once I had told them that I was not a prostitute.

After that came the deliveries, shipment after shipment of sex toys, skimpy lingerie and even a blow up sex doll for women. I couldn't even refuse them as the packages were all pre-signed and so the delivery guys just kept pushing until I'd except them. By the end of that second ten day period, there was a mound of boxes taking up the all the space in the spare room, just waiting for the biweekly trash collection day to arrive. Unfortunately for me, none of that stuff ever got thrown away. No, because you see, on the day before that first experience in the restaurant, I had one final visitor, courtesy of my husband.

This visitor was unlike all the others. He wasn't a pervert, he wasn't delivering anything, he didn't even appear all that threatening. Oh how wrong, one's first impression can be, for that man was by far the worst thing my ex ever sent me. When I opened the door, he just stood there smiling, dressed up in a 500 dollar suit, I didn't for one moment believe he could be in any way connected with that bastard excuse for a man.

"Hi there, I'm looking for a Miss Sandra Watson," He had said.

After that a lot of what happened is a blur. I remember confirming my name and I remember being taken through into my living room before blacking out. From that point, there is only the odd flashback or two which give me any clue as to what exactly he did to me. One thing is for certain, I wasn't raped. My clothes hadn't been messed with in any way and ... well sometimes you can just tell with these things. Anyhow, to cut a long story short, two hours later I wake up, the man is gone and there is a note stuck to the television. It said, well I can show you what it said:

Dear Sandy,

If you are reading this letter then my well dressed friend has already paid you a visit. A little bird had told me that you planned to start dating again so I thought I would give you a hand, seeing as that's the sort of nice guy I am. As I hope you can have as many successful dates as possible I asked my friend to give you a little help, something to keep the guys interested. As per my instructions, you have been conditioned to be unable to turn down any invitation out. That's right, be it a trip to the supermarket or three weeks in Bangkok, you will be unable to say no and you will always do your best to be on time.(don't worry I have no intentions of asking you out, I'm over you). In addition to this, in order to make your dates more exciting, whenever you leave the house you will dress only in sexy lingerie, nothing else. I will allow you to wear a coat, but if at any time anybody asks if you wish to remove it, you will do so happily.

I bet you think the idea of being half naked in a public place would repulse you, but actually you will find the experience quite exhilarating. In fact, you will even find it turns you on, all those people looking at you, maybe with a look of disgust, or maybe with a look of lust. Whatever their motive, all those eyes on you will drive you wild. What are they looking at? What are they thinking? Such thoughts will send your body shivering with desire and it is solely up tio you whether you decide to ask on these horny little impulses.

So this is my gift to you, I wish you all the success in the world with your new single lifestyle and I hope my little gift to you will make you happy. However, if for some reason you are not keen on what I have done for you, just let me know. All you have to do is beg to come back to me and stop acting like a whore for sale and I will gladly take you back and remove any changes that have been made to you,. My door is always open.

Yours sincerely

Mike.

Well would you believe a letter like that? Sure, I don't know exactly what happen for the hour I was asleep but it could have been anything. Who had ever heard of a person being conditioned over what sort of clothes they could wear? It was ridiculous to even consider the possibility. So I didn't think anything of it, by that point I had become totally sick of my ex's exploits and had already informed the police about them too or three times. It felt like the best thing to do was to just ignore things and not give him the satisfaction of thinking he was getting to me. So, that was the plan and it went swimmingly until the following evening when the time to get ready for my date with Tim came.

Now some of you may know that many women have a tendency to take their time over choosing what they wish to wear on a date; I am one of those women. This being a first date purely served to make that dressing up period even longer. So with this in mind, it is possible that you may actually understand why, as silly as it may seem, that my first reaction to not being able to leave the house in the perfect 'not too slutty, not too prude' dress that had taken two hours to pick out, was one of immense irritation. However, this was soon enough replaced with the more understandable reaction of fear when it gradually dawned on me that the threats in Mike's letter may actually be true. I tried running at full speed out of my front door, climbing out a window, everything, but my body would just not leave the house. There was nothing left to do but call Tim and cancel. However, to my horror, that was also impossible; my body just would not let me dial his number. In fact my body had its own plans, remember the line from Mike's letter:

"That's right, be it a trip to the supermarket or three weeks in Bangkok, you will be unable to say no and you will always do your best to be on time"

Well, it turns out that what he means by that is: If it looks like I am going to be late for my date, then my body will take it upon itself to just walk upstairs, change into whichever piece of lingerie it so desires (which in this case was the black satin negligee that was already mentioned, one of the many 'gifts' from Mike) and then head out of the front door to go meet my date (Luckily I was able to grab my coat on the way out). From that point everything my body did up until meeting up with Tim was out of my control and thus, despite my better wishes, I found myself in that restaurant handing over my coat to an open-mouthed waiter whilst I tried to act as naturally as one can when faced with such a scenario.

I've already told you that Tim, God bless him, did his best to be the gentleman. He tried to look only into my eyes and ask me the normal first date questions such as: "What do you do for a living?" and "Have I seen the latest Tom Hanks movie?", but even with his best efforts, it was clear that there was only one question he wanted to ask. I mean lets face it, who wouldn't want to know why their date had just arrived at a crowded restaurant in their underwear?

Well, it may have been a crazy thing to do but he seemed like a nice guy and I couldn't take anymore of the weird atmosphere my choice of outfit was causing, so I told him. I told him about Mike, the mysterious suited visitor who did this to me, the conditions of my conditioning, everything. Well, everything except the bit about the getting horny if people stared part, which I was very much experiencing first hand during my confession. His reaction was as I had expected, or at least as I had hoped. I could see from his face that he did not believe me at first; it was understandable as I had not believed it myself at first. However, as it began to dawn on him that there was no rational explanation for why I would come out dressed as I was, he realised that the irrational reason may well be true.

If I hadn't thought he was a nice guy before, it was confirmed after he'd been hit by this bombshell. Whereas some more lecherous men may have taken me out for a trip round the city in my underwear, or given me invites out for the rest of the month, knowing that I couldn't say no, he offered to just take me home so I could get out of public view. Looking back, I know I should have accepted that offer. But he was just so nice, and my panties were getting so damp that I just didn't want to leave right then. So I told him that it I was going to have to get used to being out like this in public and that it may well be a long time until my next chance to have the pleasure of such a kind person's company. So I asked him if we could just finish our meal first and then make our ways home, it was a date after all. Tim told me that he understood (which just made me fall for him even more) and we carried on with our surreal first date.

For what happened later that evening to make sense, you may need to be reminding that part of my conditioning was too feel incredibly turned on if I could feel people were looking at me. Well, this was not a cheap restaurant so most of the customers were constantly giving me sideways glances; the looks on their faces ranging from pity to envy. But as I already knew, the motive didn't matter, the fact was they were looking and all those eyes pointed at be was sending my body into a frenzy. So please tell me what a girl is to do when they are at a restaurant with the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful guy and their body is desperate to come. I tried to wait, really I did. To sit through the main course without feeling distracted, to listen to Tim's conversation without picturing his cock thrusting into my wet pussy, to just go two minutes without thinking about sex in any way, but it was impossible. I needed it, and to put it bluntly right then I needed him.