Shopping

After collaring Robin, my new slave, I took her in my arms and cuddled her in my comfy arm chair. We simply sat in each other's embrace for awhile. I think she was feeling safe. I was feeling sated. Cuddling was nice. Too soon I began to think again about all there was to do. Taking on a slave carries a lot of emotionally and physically. Cuddling was nice, but I needed to remember that she would only be at her best if I kept her off balance. There needed to be a mix of safety so she could heal from her last experience, but she needed to be reminded of her slavery.

As for the physical needs, Robin had literally nothing, not even a toothbrush. I thought about that some. I came up with a plan. To start, I pushed her to the floor without warning. I wasn't harsh, but I had to reinforce her place in my home. That would be my challenge, balancing kindness with dominance. I stood.

"Well, Robin, you look like a streetwalker after a hard night. You are covered in cum and pussy juice and sweat. You look and stink. I need to go out shopping again. I need some clothes I might let you wear now and again. I'm hitting the shower. You can bathe me then clean yourself."

She did a thorough job on me. I stepped out and said, "You have 90 seconds to wash." To her credit, she made it in time. I gave her a face cloth to dry herself and left for my bedroom. I dressed and then hauled out an old paint stained teeshirt. With scissors I cut the neckline and down one side to the shoulder seam. When she came in I tossed the shirt at her. "Dress."

As I expected, the tailoring I had done meant that the wearing the tee shirt would be a challenge. It gave the term 'off the shoulder' a whole new meaning. Staying clothed for the first part of our outing would take work. The amount of skin showing nicely emphasized her red collar. I fingered the D ring and said, "Everyone will know what you are, slut." I liked the way the colour rose in her face and chest.

It was a beastly hot day and the sun was shining down on the leather seats of my car. "Get in and make sure your bare ass is the only thing touching the seat."

Robin hiked up my shirt. Her eyes went wide as her ass started burning, but to her credit she did not cry out. I took her chin in my hand and turned her face towards me, "Good little slave."

I drove to the local mall and took her into one of the department stores. She followed dutifully, struggling a bit to keep her tits clothed as I led the way down the women's section. I found what I wanted, a rack of tank tops long enough to serve as a dress, more or less. I waded in and picked a few sizes, some deliberately too large for her tiny frame. All were low cut.

I handed them to her and we headed for the dressing room. One by one I made her try them on and come back out into the shopping area. I used a very simple test: if my cock stirred, it went in the 'keep' pile. In the end we had five, two were larger and fairly hung off her tiny frame, ready to slip off in any kind of breeze. Three were tight and stretchy and showed her curves and hung no more than an inch or so below her pussy. I liked the way her tiny nipples poked through the thin fabric.

I left her dressed in the final outfit. It was the most modest. Sure, it was tight and stretchy with a scooped neck. It was a pleasant peach colour, but it did hang down a good three inches below her ass. She would be noticed, but she wouldn't be the only young woman in the mall dressed that way. We left my old tee in the change room. Next, I headed to the shoe department where I grabbed a pair of cheap flip flops and tossed them on the floor for her. We went to the cash. I enjoyed the view as she had to lean down to scan the tag on the outfit she was wearing.

Heading back into the mall I steered her down a quiet service hall. "Face on the wall. Assume the position, slave." She complied, of course and I spent a few minutes fingering her pussy from behind, getting her nice and wet and wanting.

"God, you are a juicy little cunt. It takes nothing to turn you on." Then to keep her off balance, "Ready for lunch? I'm hungry." I spun her round and held up my fingers so she could lick me clean. She looked up at me as she did so, pure lust shining in her eyes.

On the way to the food court I made a quick stop in the drug store leaving her outside and on display, hands clasped lightly behind her back. I picked her up a toothbrush and razor. For now she would use my other toiletries if needed. As for her period, well, we could discuss that when the time came. I am sure I could use it to my advantage.

We went to lunch. I'm a big fan of New York Fries, so it was two dogs, a large fry and two sodas. I dressed the dogs to my liking, not bothering to ask her preferences. She had said she wanted others to make her decisions, after all. We sat at a table where there was a lot of foot traffic. I wanted her to be watched, and to know it. She surely garnered her share of stares, some admiring and some spiteful. The few male eyes that bothered to look at me were filled with pure envy. The table I picked placed her across from a couple of elderly gentlemen. I ordered her to keep her knees apart. I'd already come three times that day, but even I was stirring at the vision of this wanton waif sitting across from me. The smile that played softly on her face told me that the gentlemen had indeed noticed her display and that she was enjoying it.

I made her clean up the table, making sure she came around to my side and stretched over to pick up the garbage. It gave the old guys a final eyeful. "Oh, Master," she said as we passed them, "That was so hot! Thank you." I think I heard one man choke on his coffee.

"Saucy minx!" I said, smiling at her.

We held hands as we walked back to the car. Maybe that was a faux pas in the D/S world, but I didn't care. I was so proud of her and so entranced with my new slave.

In the car she hissed slightly as she sat her naked ass back on the hot seat. She turned towards me to thank me for the clothes, the first she had been given since her capture by her old owner. I grabbed her D ring again. "These aren't your clothes, slave," I growled. "They are mine. I will keep them in my closet. If and when I want to let you have clothes I will leave one on the floor somewhere. These are my clothes, this is my collar.

"I want you to understand something important. I own you, everything about you. You have nothing. You are in my house. There is no room you will call yours no bed you will call yours. You will sleep when and where I tell you. You will eat what and when I tell you. You will do the chores I tell you, fuck whom I tell you. Get it?"

"Yes, Master!" she said, eyes downcast.

"There is only one thing you have, and even that you do not own. Do you know what it is?" She hesitated, thinking, for a long time and then very timidly, almost in a fearful whisper said, "You, my Master?"

I kissed her deeply and warmly and then released the collar. "That's right, girl. You have a Master, for as long as I choose to keep you."

"Thank you, My Master."

Next we drove to a corset shop I knew. I might not have had a lot of experience as a Master, but I had played a bit. Along the way, I had met and come to know the owner of the shop. She had taught me a lot about how clothes can make the scene richer and more erotic.

While they carried the usual array of 'foundation garments', they also had a rear area that catered to the kinky side of life. I had called earlier and had a good long chat with the Pauline, the owner. I had apprised her of my situation. She was happy for me and delighted to help me out. We discussed budget and came up with the basics of a plan for the shopping trip.

Before we left the car I had Robin put on her wrist cuffs and then clipped them behind her back. I clipped on a leash I had bought that morning and headed in.

"Pauline?" I inquired as if I had never met her before. Behind the counter was a 40 something blonde, a formidable woman with firm, high and very noticeable breasts. She was tall, but not a giant. She was also slim and elegant and presented a coquettish demeanour. At least that was how she was choosing to present herself this afternoon. I had a sense she had a variety of moods and styles. She was sporting a purple corset with a flimsy taffeta skirt. A matching bow was fixed in her hair. Sounds silly, but it worked.

"And how can I help a big, handsome man like you today, Sir?" Ok, she was laying it on a bit thick, but hey, it's all play, right? I liked that she had completely ignored Robin. Nice touch.

"This is my new slave. She came into my possession yesterday with nothing, quite literally. I just bought a few of these tanks for everyday use and to keep her from getting arrested. They are for the days when I decide she should be clothed.

"I need to acquire some other items and I hope you can help."

"Of course, ahh???"

"Finn."

"Of course, Mister Finn. I am sure we can outfit her. Do you have anything special in mind?"

"Well, she's a slut, and needs to dress like one when I am entertaining or in need of visual amusement. Of course I will also need a few high class whore looks for less private settings, but still ones that announce that she is a fuck toy. I don't ever want her to wear the kind of clothing that might allow her to forget her place. Do you take my meaning?

"Oh yes, Mr. Finn. I think I understand exactly. 'Always available' and yet clothed, sometimes elegantly. I most certainly can accommodate your desires."

"Excellent, thank you. Also provide some serving outfits, please, but skip the trashy French maid thing. Not a turn on for me. I will need at least a starter leather harness item that is good for restraint. One with some rings for suspension would be helpful. You are the stylist, Pauline, so feel free to dress her as you see fit. I am sure I will approve.

"Now, would it be possible to leave her with you for a few hours while I do errands?"

"Why yes, Mr. Finn. To do a thorough job I would like several hours. Why don't you come around six when we close and I can arrange a fashion show so you can make your final selection?"

"That would be excellent service, Pauline, thank you. Remember, she is a slave, so if she can be of service to you in any way, please take advantage."

Just then a short, plump, Goth type girl came through from the back of the store. She sported the usual overdone makeup, heavy on the black, wild hair, thigh high leather boots, short black vinyl skirt and matching halter barely restraining large breasts. And as with any good Goth girl, she sported a black leather collar. "Oh, this is Judy, my...ahh, assistant," said Pauline.

"You can both use her then, with my gratitude."

"Does she have a name, Mr. Finn?"

"Yes, but you have no need to know it, do you?"

"No, Sir!"

"Then call her what you will. She likes degradation."

As I left I heard Pauline say, "Well, you are ours for four whole hours! Let's take you in back where we can dress you like the slut you are away from the prying eyes of normal customers!" I smiled thinking that Robin would probably have a very entertaining afternoon.

I headed back for home and got out my tools. I had a dungeon to build.

Pauline's story:

I led the slave and Judy through the curtains through to the back space. I think of it as part speciality shop and part playroom. This slave is far from the first to experience a fitting back here in my personal domaine. I wonder what she thought when she saw my special clothing shop?

It is lit with dramatic spotlights making it bright and dark at the same time. There are racks of leather gear and harnesses on the left. Above them is a shelf full of wig stands displaying restraint helmets and masks. Next stand a series of mannequins sporting corsets far more daring than in the main store. Some are fabric, more are leather or vinyl in an array of colours and styles. Some have garter clips, and many have restraint rings sewn in. As an amusing touch, I had painted the models in the most garish makeup. Each wears a different collar from my collection. I even have some of them 'restrained' with cuffs connected to collars. A couple float above the ground with arms tied to the ceiling. It's positively dungeonesque!

In the back of the long room is a looking glass cabinet: three full length mirrors arranged in a U shape. A foot high three foot square carpeted podium sits in the middle, the focus of a series of spotlights that surround the whole setting. A hook on an adjustable chain hangs above the podium and rings adorn its sides. A large and comfortable looking leather armchair faces the mirrors a couple of feet away from the platform. It's the the Owner's Chair where Doms can evaluate the clothes their slaves are modelling.

Over on the right side of the room are racks of gowns and lingerie of all lengths, fabrics and styles. Nearer the door were bras, panties, stockings and garters. In an alcove was the shoe store, none with less than three inch heels. The common connection is that anyone wearing one of these articles is begging to be used, displayed or punished. And isn't that the way it should be? Sluts of whatever gender should be on display, always available. I liked Mister Finn, and the sizeable sum he had agreed to pay me. I was going to make this little red haired cunt a showpiece.

"Judy, strip this girl and let's see what we have to work with." The denuding took but a few seconds with her tank tossed on the floor in a corner. Once naked, Judy redid the restraints.

I grabbed the leash her Master had left hanging and pulled the girl up on the podium and switched on the blinding spots. She stood obediently and waited. Judy pulled up a salon chair for me and handed over a tailor's tape. The girl shivered slightly in the air conditioned shop. Of course, I needed her measurements, but that would come later.

"Turn, slowly. Let me see my raw material." She complied. Sweet. I stepped onto the podium and fondled her breasts. "Hmm, nice enough even if a little small, but they are firm, aren't they Judy? Have a feel for yourself."

"Lovely ma'am. Good enough to eat," said the Goth in a European accent of some kind.

"Time enough for that later, you horny bitch. Behave or you will be hung from the hook and won't get to come for a week.."

"Yes, Ma'am." Judy bowed her head.

Turning my attention back to the red head I ordered, "Legs apart!" Again she complied quickly. I thrust my breasts into her face and reached down for her pussy. As I expected, it was wet. My fingers slid in easily. I stroked inside and out, up to her little nub until she began to breath hard. "Now Your Master said nothing about you cumming, so you had better not."

I kept playing for awhile till I felt her nearing the edge all the while nuzzling her face with my breasts. I withdrew and lifted my fingers. She eagerly licked them clean. I dried my hand in her hair and patted her cheek gently. "Very good. I think this fitting is off to a good start, don't you?"

A delicious look of fear passed across her face. Should she answer or keep silent? The pause lengthened.

"It is alright to speak here, little one, as long as you obey. "So, are we off to a go0d start?"

"Oh yes, Ma'am! Thank you."

"You may speak because I will need you to help me decide on the outfits for your fashion show. I know your Master only acquired you yesterday, but you will have a hand in deciding what you think he will like and also what fires up your own sense of sluttiness and subservience. That force is very strong in you, is it not?" I asked stroking her cheek. She nodded, blushing charmingly

I swept my arm around the room, "Almost any article in this area will make you desirable and fuckable, but that's not enough. It's how you wear it and present yourself that will make you truly stunning and sexy. So yes, I need your opinion. A Dom can train and discipline, sometimes to excess. I have seen slaves who had every spark of personality trained right out of them. What a waste! I suppose that's okay for a Dom who is really a misanthrope rather than a Master or Mistress. But a rich D/S relationship is give and take. You have to be willing, no eager! to truly give yourself to Master Finn. Only you have the power to truly let your submission bloom. Fashion is a tool that can help make that happen.

"So I will suggest items, but you can say what makes you feel like the slave you want to be...and will make him hard and unable to do anything but use you."

For the next hour, Judy and I dressed Robin in dozens of outfits. I commanded her to only use three words: Yes, no and maybe. The 'no' pile grew large. The 'maybe' pile was sizeable. There were only four items in the 'yes pile'. That was a wonderful start. The slut's tastes were good. I agreed with the 'yesses' and the 'nos'. There were a few things in the 'maybes' I thought she should add.

"Time for a break. Judy, release her hands. Go lock the front door and strip. You have one minute." Judy leapt into service and soon returned. Unzipping the skirt and corset she was naked, her large golden rings enhancing her nipples. I ignored her leaving the boots on. They were an enhancement

I plopped down in the Owner's Chair. "All this work has tired me out. Judy, make me tea then rehang all the 'no' pile. You. On your knees. You know what to do. Do a good enough job and I will give you something to drink and a pee break."

I don't know if she needed to pee or not, but putting the thought in her head probably made her feel the need. I thought it would add some urgency to her efforts. I can be a meany, can't I? I don't know if it spurred her on, but I can say she excelled at cunnilingus. Why, I even spilled my tea when she made me cum the first time! She was sneaky. Usually I have a very predictable ascent towards orgasm, but this slave had a few tricks and nibbles that by bypassed my usual route. I would have to get her to teach Judy.

My slave was earnest and had stamina, but she was not that creative. Sometimes I just get bored with her skills and pushed her away in favour of my own hand. Of course, that gave me an excuse to flog her worthless ass, so there was that benefit. And of course when she didn't make me come, well she lost her orgasm privileges for an unspecified time. I loved making edging her during those days! Bringing her to tears of need was such a delight! A favourite trick was to tie her down, squat over her just out of tongue's reach and then jill myself to orgasm. Did I mention that I am a squirter? I enjoyed soaking her little cunt face. I would just leave her there until it dried. Sometimes I would keep her from washing her face or hair for the whole several day punishment period. It was always fun to display her with her makeup running all the way down her fat tits, her hair a filthy tangle and smelling like a horse barn.

Well, back to the talented slut between my legs:

For my second orgasm, Judy did a nice job suckling and fondling my breasts while slut kept up her licking and sucking of my 'nether parts' as we say in polite society. The second cum was even bigger than the first. She was drenched!

I decided slut needed a reward, so I sent Judy down to lie between her legs and lick her pussy while the slave worked on number three. Judy had strict instructions not to make her cum, however. Neither of them wanted to find out what would happen in that eventuality!

After a third glorious orgasm I decided it was time to get back to work, almost. I ordered Judy to bring a bucket and place it on the platform. Then I gave the slave two large bottles of water and ordered her to drink. "Do you need to pee, my lovely?" She nodded. "Well, go ahead!" I said taking out my cell phone and switching on my movie app."