Hush Money

My fingers fumble at the unfamiliar clasp. I slip back into my high heels and step out of the cramped change room and into the waiting area. I can't keep him waiting too long, he may get bored. If the moment is lost he'll be disappointed with me. Disappointment is worse than anger; his sorrowful punishment is deeper and slower.

It is midday and there are only a couple of other women in the main part of the store. There are no bored and tired men sitting in the deep chairs set between the mirrors of the plushly carpeted room. He is alone, still seated, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I have belonged to him for long enough to have forgotten life any other way; even though I know he has been happy to keep me I also know that he could choose to walk away anytime. I cannot make that choice but I dread the day he will make it for me.

He moves a finger, indicating I should turn around. Slowly. The tight bra pushes my breasts together and offers me to him. My dark nipples are easily visible and I hope he will be pleased. The filmy scrap of lace covering the cheeks of my ass suggests more than it hides.

"Yes."

I smile and thank him. He is very good to me.

We repeat the sequence twice more but on the fourth presentation he says, "No". I am crestfallen, knowing I have not presented myself to him in a flattering form. I make my way back to the change room, hoping I haven't displeased him too much. It is not the physical punishment that I will be given when we get home, although my cunt clenches with the anticipated pain. It is understanding that even after the careful training he has given me I am still capable of making a mistake.

Before I turn to close the door of the change room he slips inside and puts a finger to my lips. I know that this is dangerous; being caught together here could lead to an ugly situation with the store manager and he cannot afford the exposure. I feel proud that he has risked this to show his displeasure to me immediately.

He holds his hand out, palm down, fingers straight. I drop to my knees. He rests his hand on my head and I unbuckle his belt, wishing that he could use it on my ass without attracting the unwanted attention. I pull the zipper of his pants down and release his penis from behind his shorts.

He twines his fingers in my hair and I gratefully move my mouth to cover his cock. He uses my hair to set the pace, first slowly, then faster, then slowly again. I wish there was a way to hold back the gush of juice; I am getting wet and I will soak these panties I don't own.

With a tug he lets me know that I am to stand up. Regretfully I let his cock slip from my lips and stand to face him. He makes a circle in the air with his finger again and I turn around. His hands circle my waist and I raise my arms above my head. I shudder as the heat of his touch moves up my body. He lifts my breasts out of their borrowed confinement and kneads them with his strong hands. I watch in the mirror as he pinches first one, then the other nipple. Harder. Harder. Harder, please! I want to moan but I can't make a sound or the punishment will be much, much worse when we get home. He is pinching so hard now that my breath is coming in shallow gasps and I try to grind my ass into his hips.

He steps away suddenly and I would stumble if not for the last points of contact; his fingers on my nipples.

I am a Bad Girl and he will punish me. I can't wait.

He places a hand on the back of my neck and I bend at the waist, grasping my ankles. The high heels make me a little unsteady so I spread my legs a little further apart. With a finger he pulls the panties to one side. Please don't tear them, I beg silently.

I feel the head of his cock between my legs, between my lips, sliding to push against my clit, and then suddenly, he is inside me.

The door fell slightly ajar when he moved and I watch the mirror across the room from between my legs. I can see his hot cock sliding in and out of me, his large balls hitting the tender flesh between my legs. Can he see what I see? I turn slightly and am glad that he can watch the mirror on the change room wall, a much better view.

The risk, the uncomfortable position, the strength of his cock slamming into me brings me quickly to orgasm but before I can release he stops and pulls away. I reach out to stop myself from falling. He grabs my arm and pulls me around. He gestures and I am once again on my knees. His hand on my cheek tells me that I cannot have his cock in my mouth and I moan quietly with disappointment. I lick his balls, lightly, delicately, like a cat, the way he likes me to. His large hand matches his large cock and I feel his balls tighten under my tongue.

The cum he shoots onto my throat and breasts is spicy and sweet at the same time; I lick him clean and then kiss his cock before pulling his pants back up, zipping them and buckling the belt. He slips out of the change room, leaving me to kneel on the floor for a moment longer. I know I can't have my release yet; that won't be allowed until he is there to watch it.

The sweet cum has also landed on the bra and the panties are soaked with my juice. He did not approve of these; I don't dare to try to buy them myself. I take a few bills out of my purse and leave them on the discarded underwear now puddled on the floor. Hush money.