I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...
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You see her look at you as you enter the store. You see her watch you intently as she always does when you shop at this lingerie store. She's an older sales staff lady, maybe early fifty-something. She's attractive and looks younger for her years. She almost flirts with you each time you've shopped here. You see her staring at you more than she does at the other women in the store, every time you go there you notice that she watches you, only you. Today you are in a mood to tease, to push. Today you will call her on it.
She watches you pick up a pair of very girly panties, you hold them up in your hands expanding the waist band, letting them dangle between your fingers, shake them, like trying to get a dog to come to you. You wave the panties toward her, smile, giver her 'the look'. You wink at her. She comes to you.
"May I help you?"
She smiles warmly as she addresses you.
"Do you like these?"
You look into her eyes. You speak quietly, nobody else hears you,very seductive whisper, teasing.
"Want to see them on me?"
She looks around to see if anyone else heard your comment, flushes slightly. You don't care what she says or does. You are tired of her staring at you like a potential shoplifter or better yet an old hungry lesbian sales lady after your feminine charms.
You are still holding the panties. She looks around quickly, back at you.
"I think they'd look good on you. Very sexy, would suit you well."
She flushes, nothing strange, maybe just wants to make a sale. But you notice, see it. She is seeing you in them. You are enjoying this, you are making her uncomfortable. It isn't completely apparent why yet but you have a feeling, you know this one.
"Like younger women in just their panties? Is that why you work here?"
She looks stunned. You don't care, are bold, almost want to see her run away. Before she can answer you drop the panties, touch her hand.
"I'm going to the dressing rooms. You bring these and pick two others you think I'd like, you choose, bring them to the dressing room. Pick something you'd like to see me in."
You giggle girlishly as you drop the panties into her hands. You turn and walk to the back of the shop.
When she gets to the dressing room you are already in a booth. You have your skirt off, stand in just your shoes and blouse...no panties. You are naked from the waist down.
She knocks and you crack the door. As she starts to hand you the panties through the cracked door you grab her wrist firmly. You pull her into the dressing stall. Nobody else is in the stall area. Her face is slightly red. You are having fun.
You smile at her, watch her face. Standing in just shoes, your blouse held up slightly, your pussy exposed, you move to position your back to the door. She is trapped, you between her and the way out. You spread your legs slightly apart.
"Help me try them on. I'll let you pick the first pair.", dominant, sexy soft voice, hushed tones but very stern. You stare right through her.
"You want the sale you have to earn it. I can tell already you have an eye for this."
You gesture down across your beautiful body, across your pussy with your hand.
"I see you watch me."
You smile into the mirror, back at her, see her face flush even more. She turns bright red.
"Well? Help me into them! Do you want to make a sale or not?"
You are whispering, almost hoping another shopper comes into the stalls. You want to talk louder, more stern to her. But you're not ready to be that bold...yet.
You watch, feel triumphant as she holds the peach sheer ruffled panties she's picked out for you. She holds them open by the lace waist band. She bends forward, almost kneeling. You put a hand on the back of her head to steady yourself, grip the back of her neck gently and step into them, one foot at a time she works the panties up over your shoes.
She slips them up over your legs, up over the curve or your rear end. You don't release her head. You take her by her hair, hold her hair gently as she straightens, stands. You smile at her. You were right. You always are.
You move up close to her, breath into her ear.
"I know you, don't I, little girl? I know what you need."
You tighten your grip in the back of her hair but not enough to hurt her or make her cry out. Just enough to hold her in place, she starts to pull away but you hold her tightly.
