My mischievous reflection shines at me from the glossy bottom of the coffee mug i have drained three times this morning. Master has gone out with friends, and i sit in an empty house, tapping my scarlet nails on the table. A list of tasks has been left for me. He took the time to print it off the computer, perhaps in hopes that i might be obedient and do my chores before He returns. I see His point, but a certain sale at the mall beckons my soul. By my calculations, i should have plenty of time to hit the mall, do some shopping, and work through my chores without getting caught.
Within an hour i shower, dress, and hit the road. Thirty minutes later, I snag a primo parking space at the mall. I glance at my phone to check the time then hoof it toward my destination, where a gorgeous pair of high-heeled black leather boots has my name on them. Master had vetoed the boots because their price tag exceeds my allowance, but I know He'll love them once He sees how hot they look with that slutty red dress He likes to shove up to my tits when He bends me over the hood of His Mustang.
One pair of boots remains in the store, and just happen to be my size. I swear my feet smile as I slip them into the butter-soft leather and zip them up to just above my knees. I imagine myself wearing nothing more than boots, stockings, and a g-string, as I admire my reflection in the store mirror. Ahhhh...perfection. I wonder how can Master not fall in love with boots that have been sent from the heavens? These babies are destined to live in my closet. My subbie senses never tingle when I slide Master's credit card through the card reader and sign the receipt.
Still buzzing from my naughty purchase, I decide to reward myself with a warm, forbidden cinnamon roll. Thoughts of licking gooey, drippy icing from my fingers fill my head as I pass the corner jewelry store. A few minutes later, reward in hand, I scope out the food court for a place to sit. Just before I reach a table, I watch in horror as the cinnamon roll takes a tragic nosedive and faceplants on the cold white floor. I crouch to salvage my treat. As I wipe up wasted icing with a napkin, a pair of black work boots appears. A chill travels from my pedicure to my ponytail. I silently hope that black work boots are the hottest trend in guy footwear.
My eyes travel up two endless black denim towers. No way. A knot forms in my belly. I know those towers, but I pray I'm mistaken, even as His face comes into focus. The cool smile unnerves me, but it's the look in His eyes that has me about to jump up my own ass for cover.
"Make a mess, little one?"
"Um, hello, Master. I thought You were out with with friends. But, wow, this is nice. Now that You're here, we can grab a cup of coffee and talk. You know, we never spend enough time together, just talking. Who knew eighteen holes of golf would fly by so fast? So, I'll just finish up here and – "I chatter like a chipmunk on espresso.
Master levels His gaze at me. His eyes lock on mine.
"As it turns out, today I am only interested in three holes."
I swallow and say nothing.
"Been shopping, have you?"
"Sort of, Master."
"What's in the bag? I'd love to see what My credit card paid for."
Still crouching, I try to think fast. "Well, Master, I'd love to show You, but I can't. I'm doing some early Christmas shopping." My legs ache, but I don't dare move.
"Ah. I didn't know that women's shoe store carried shoes for men."
Damn. Since when does He pay attention to this stuff? I consider offering an explanation, but the warning in His eyes tells me to keep my mouth shut.
"On your feet. Now."
"Yes, Master." Within seconds, I stand before Him on unsteady legs.
"Get your bag and purse."
I grab my things and Master leads me from the food court to the main area of the mall. I feel His hand slide from the small of my back to the base of my skull. He wraps my ponytail around His strong hand and steers me as we walk in silence. We stop near a kiosk and He leans in close enough for me to feel His hot breath teasing my ear. My pussy tingles and dampens in response.
"There is a hallway just past the pretzel place. You will walk to the custodial closet near the end of that hall. Go inside and strip down to your bra, which will be pulled up over your tits where the words "I am a disobedient slut" will be written. You will wait for Me, wearing only the boots I know you bought. I expect to find you bent over, hands on a shelf, legs spread wide, with My credit card between your teeth." He tugs my ponytail. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Now go."
"Yes, Master." Oh. Shit.
Master knows I hate being punished in public. I weave through mall traffic with my heart pounding at near-aerobic level. I reach the closet and make sure no one is watching before I step inside and close the door behind me.
The smell of public restroom/disinfectant threatens my gag reflex. A mop rests in a bucket of dirty water. The metal shelves Master mentioned line one wall. I bite my bottom lip and weigh my options. Do I run? Try to barricade myself in the closet? Pray for my doppelganger to show up and trade places with me?
Accepting my fate, I blow out a sigh of resignation. Praying that no one needs a dust rag or a bottle of glass cleaner, I peel off everything except my bra. The closet feels like the inside of a refrigerator. I want to cry as I step into my innocent boots, that do not deserve to be punished for my sins. I dig out my cheap eyeliner pencil from the bottom of my purse and hike my bra up to my collarbone. My nipples shrink to pebbles when the cool air hits my girls. With my left hand, I write "i am a disobedient slut" across the goosebumpy flesh of my tits. I drop the eyeliner in my purse and remember the credit card. Ugh. After wiping the card with my shirt, I place it between my teeth and try not to think of germs. About the time I spread my legs and assume the position, the door opens. I drop to the floor and begin scooping up my clothes until I hear Master's voice.
"I see you have followed My instructions." Relief floods through my veins at the sound of His voice and I scramble to my feet. The credit card falls from my mouth.
"Yes, Master. Sorry, I thought you might have been someone else, which would have been sooo –" I choke on my words at the sight of a man standing beside Master, dressed in a work uniform emblazoned with the name "Phil" and grinning like he has just won a case of beer and a year's worth of private lap dances from Megan Fox. I turn to Master, who is looking rather pleased with Himself.
"Phil, I'd like you to meet my slut." Master steps back, allowing Phil an unobstructed view of me and my boots. Phil, looking everywhere above the level of my eyes, offers me a meaty hand.
"Nice to meet you, Miss, uh...slut."
I send Master a questioning look, to which he responds with a slight nod. Visions of every public restroom I have entered flash in my mind as I shake Phil's hand.
"You, too...Phil."
Master turns to Phil. "As you can see, my slut has been naughty. She went shopping without permission, exceeded her spending limit, and used My credit card to fund those new boots she's wearing."
Phil glances at the words written on my tits. His eyes travel down my thighs to the boots that seemed like such a good idea a couple hours earlier. "Nice boots."
"Thanks, Phil."
Master rescues the credit card from the floor, wipes it on His shirt, and holds it before my face.
"Open."
I open my mouth and He returns the card to its former location between my teeth. "You will not speak or even open that mouth of yours unless I tell You to do so. Throughout your punishment you will play with your pussy. However, you may not cum, so don't even think about it. Are we clear?" I nod. "Good. Turn around and bend over, as you were when I came in. One hand on the shelf, and the other on your pussy. And you better have that ass high, slut."
I can feel Phil's eyes on me as I obey Master's instruction.
"You know why you're being punished, my slut. Phil, here, has been kind enough to allow us the use of this closet to carry out your punishment. In return, he gets to watch and possibly participate, depending on how things go. This all sounds good to you, as well, Phil?"
