Summer Slave

Chapter 4

SHOPPING

She slid carefully into the car. She sat erect and still, with her thighs slightly tensed.

I put the car in reverse and backed out of our parking spot. I drove slowly through the parking lot, watching as she braced and pushed herself up off the seat for each speed bump.

After a few moments, she reached down and pulled her skirt from under her fanny, placing her bare bottom on the vinyl seat. She spread the skirt carefully around her legs.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "I know O was required to sit like that. But I haven't . . . "

She laughed. "Oh. No, Master. O has nothing to do with it. I don't want to get my skirt wet."

"You don't want to get your skirt wet. What about the car seat?"

"I won't be walking around wearing the car seat. Besides, it'll wipe clean. I wouldn't want to embarrass you, Master."

"You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself, you mean, slave."

"That too, Master." She shifted slightly on the seat. "It's going to be nearly impossible for me to keep from cumming, Master, even without that thing turned on."

"Don't you dare cum without permission."

"No, Master. Of course not, Master." She paused and said softly, "I'll try, Master."

I pulled into traffic and drove on into the city.

Our first stop was a downtown department store. I parked at the curb about a block away. She opened her door, and stepped out onto the curb, carefully brushing down her skirt behind her as she stood. We walked hand in hand toward the store. She glanced around her nervously, furtively.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I feel like everybody's watching me, " she said, glancing over her shoulder. "Like they all know what's under this skirt."

"I don't think anybody can tell. But then, who knows?"

"Master, that doesn't help."

"No? Well, assume that they can tell. Imagine that everyone we pass knows there's a dildo in your pussy and a plug in your ass. Imagine that they all know that your Master can flip a switch to turn on that vibrator that's pressed up against your clit."

"Oooo, Master. You're going to make me cum. You know these things move. I'm being fucked with every step I take."

"I'm glad to hear it, slut. But remember what I said about cumming without permission."

"I'm trying, Master. It's . . . just . . . not . . . easy." Her pace slowed. She faltered slightly and pulled back against my arm. "Oh. Master!" She stopped completely, then squeezed her legs together. Her lips pursed and her jaw clenched. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let out a very long sigh.

"That's one," I said. "All will be punished."

"That's not fair, Master. You fix me up like this and you're going to punish me for doing what it's intended to make me do."

"It's not supposed to be fair. You need to learn some control. I could turn that vibrator on and just let it run." I pulled her close and held the switch at her waist.

"Please, no, Master"

"What was that?" I asked, sternly.

"Of course, Master. Turn it on if it pleases you, Master."

"Not now, I don't think." I started walking again, linking my elbow through hers. "Come on."

"Yes, Master."

I stopped in just in front of the store's front doors and waited. She looked up at me, puzzled.

"The door, slave," I said softly.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

She opened the door and held it as I passed, then followed behind me. She hurried ahead of me to open and hold the interior vestibule door as well. We stopped in the open space in front of the first cosmetics counter.

"I'm going to the hardware department," I told her. "I want you to get a pair of black elbow length gloves. Here." I took out my wallet and handed her some bills. "That should cover it. Meet me in the women's shoe department. Go."

I watched her walk away from me. Her bonds and her shoes did wonderful things for her posture. Her walk was very smooth and very erect, and with a swing in her hips that made me want to jump on her right there in the store.

I bought 100 feet of three-sixteenths inch nylon cord and a couple snap swivels. That took about five minutes. I spent another ten minutes looking at power tools that I had no interest in. I wanted to make sure she was in the shoe department long enough for a sales clerk to find her before I arrived. I rode the escalator back up to the main floor and found the women's shoe department.

She stood with her back to me, slowly shaking her head as she talked to a female clerk. The clerk, a petite blonde, about thirty years old had started to turn away as I approached. I grasped my slave's arm before I spoke. She tensed slightly at my touch. ´

"Are you having trouble, dear?" I asked, looking straight into her eyes. I never called her "dear".

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I forgot what I was supposed to be looking for." She glared back at me.

"The pumps, dear. For the Burkhart's party." We didn't know anyone named Burkhart. "I think you need something in black, with high heels. To go with that black satin outfit." The only black satin outfit she had was a corset and the gloves she'd just bought.

"Of course. How could I have forgotten?" She put on her best darling wife voice. She whispered in my ear, "I hope you think this is worth it. I am not amused."

"I think we have something right over here," the clerk said, leading us to a display stand. "Did you have something like this in mind?" She pointed to a pair of pointed-toed satin pumps with three inch heels.

"How about something more like those?" I asked, pointing at the most extreme pair in the display. They were patent leather, open-toed and had spike heels about 4" high. Each had a strap that buckled across the instep and one around the ankle.

The clerk gave my slave a puzzled look, apparently not expecting me to have completely taken over the exchange. "Your size?"

"Six and a half B," she said.

The clerk pointed to a row of chairs. "Have a seat over here and I'll see if we have them in your size." She disappeared into the stock room.

My slave stood motionless, fists clenched. "Do you think I'm going to wear those?"

"Yes I do," I answered flatly. "Now sit like the women asked."

"Ooooooo."

"Sit, slut."

"Yes, Master." She perched herself carefully on the edge of a chair. I could see that she clenched her bottom and thigh muscles to keep her weight off the plugs in her ass and pussy. She slowly leaned over, unbuckled and removed her sandals.

The clerk quickly returned with an open shoe box. She pulled up a little shoe fitting stool and sat in front of my slave. The clerk pulled the left shoe from the box "Let's see if this fits," she said.

The slave planted her right foot on the floor and swung her left foot toward the inclined front of the stool, carefully keeping her knees close together.

"There you go," said the clerk cheerfully as she fastened the second buckle. She pulled the second shoe from its box. "Let's get the other one on you."

Her left leg swung down and planted on toe and spiked heel. The right leg swung up and slid onto the stool front. Her hand grasping the arm of the chair trembled slightly.

The clerk fitted and buckled the second shoe. "Okay," she said, standing and sliding the stool back. "Walk around a little and see how they feel."

Setting her feet side by side, my slave pushed herself up with her hands on the chair's arms. She stood with slight unsteadiness, then took a cautious step. "Tolerable," she said. And took a few more steps away from the chair.

"Walk around a little," I said. "Make sure they fit okay."

She walked around the display stand. On the far side, she stopped and turned to face me. She leaned on the display stand, clutched its edge and closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" the clerk asked.

My slave stood perfectly still for a few seconds, a clenched look of either pain or ecstasy on her face. She slowly opened her eyes. "Oh, oh. Sorry. I'm fine. Just a little out of it today."

"How are the shoes, dear?" I asked. I held up two fingers and smiled.

"The shoes. Oh. Yes. They fit. They're as comfortable as heels like this ever get." She nodded slowly, looking at my raised hand.

I turned to the clerk. "We'll take them."

She tucked the shoe box under her arm as we left the store.

I said, "I really wasn't expecting that, you know."

"The hell you weren't," she responded. "You fix me up like this and then make me parade around modeling a pair of spike heeled fuck-me pumps. What the hell do you expect?"

"Let's say you're a little more sensitive than I expected."

"A little more sensitive, huh? It's a struggle not to cum every time I take a step."

"Glad to hear it. If you keep this up, you're in for some serious punishment tonight."

"If you just don't distract me, or stimulate me too much, I think I'll be all right."

"I'll be all right . . .?"

"I think I'll be all right, Master."

"Better. You're getting a bit loose with your words."

"I'm sorry, Master." She bowed her head. "Please forgive me, Master."

"Apology accepted, slut. Just pay more attention in the future."

"I will, Master. Thank you, Master."

We had reached the car. I unlocked and opened her door, then walked around to the driver's side and got in. As I sat down, She again slid her skirt from under her, to place her bare bottom on the car's vinyl seat. She fastened her seat belt and sat very still and erect.

As we pulled away from the curb, she asked, "May I ask a question, Master?"

"Yes, slut, you may."

"What is to be my punishment for cumming without permission, Master?"

"I won't answer that," I said. "I will say this: you'll get a half hour for each time you cum before we get home. It may be anything you could imagine."

"Please, Master," she whined. "I can imagine an awful lot."

"I'm sure you can, but if you don't stop whining, you're going to be in serious trouble. "

"I'm sorry, Master. It's just that I can barely breathe without having to suppress an orgasm. Please forgive me, Master."

"Slut, you wouldn't need so much forgiveness if you'd keep your mouth shut."

"No, Master. I wouldn't."

"Look in the glove compartment. There should be a golf ball in there."

"A golf ball?" She turned the latch that dropped the glove box open.

I glanced at her sternly and slapped her thigh.

"Ow. Yes Master. A golf ball." She rummaged through the pile of maps and pressure gauges. "Here it is," she said, "in the back." She held it up for me to see.

"Put it in your mouth."

"But, Master, I'll . . . "

"Now."

"Yes, Master. If it pleases you, Master." She popped the little dimpled ball into her mouth.

"Any complaints?" I asked, taunting her.

"Nhhunnhunnh." She shook her head.

"We have two more stops," I said. "We're going on a picnic tomorrow, and we need to get some supplies."

She looked over at me and smiled.

"We're going to the crafts shop first, though. We need to make something special for you."

"Hnnnh?" She looked puzzled.

"Leather," was all I said.

The crafts shop was in a strip center on the way back toward the apartment. I parked at the sidewalk right in front of the store. She reached up to take the golf ball from her mouth.

"No," I said.

"Hnnh?"

"No. Leave it in."

She pounded her fists against her legs and let out a sharp breath. She scowled. Then she slowly nodded. She opened her door and carefully stood up, brushing down her skirt behind her.

This time she automatically stepped ahead of me to open the front door. The shopkeeper behind his front counter gave us a quizzical look, but said nothing.

She followed me across the small store and back into a narrow aisle. Half way back we entered the leather goods section. I slowed to scan the shelves. We were out of sight of the man at the front counter.

"I think black would be nice," I said. "How about you?"

"Hnnnh?" She shrugged.

"Or something a bit bolder maybe. Red or white?"

She crinkled her nose and shook her head slowly. She looked puzzled. She had no idea what I had in mind.

"Black then. We'll need a one inch strip, like a belt, not quite three feet long. A stiff piece of leather, oh, eight inches by three inches. And a roller buckle. I'll wait right here while you find them."

She found the leather strip easily. A variety of colors, widths and lengths of strips were displayed hanging from pegs for making belts. She pulled a chrome buckle from a bin next to the belt display.

"Hnnhh, hhnnnh?" She held the strip and buckle out to me.

"Just what we need," I said, taking them from her. "I think there are some odd pieces in those bins down there." I pointed under the bottom shelf.

She leaned over and pulled the nearest plastic bin out into the aisle. She reached down into the bin, sifting through different sizes, shapes and colors of leather pieces. Her skirt rode up behind her, threatening to expose her ass and the strap through it.

"Looks good from here, " I taunted.

"Hnnnnnhh." That was definitely a complaint. She crouched down and continued to sift through the bin. Now her skirt, partly unbuttoned as it was, started to fall away in front. Finally, she knelt beside the bin. In moments, her hand came up with a small piece of black material.

I took it from her, then dropped it back in the bin. "Too soft," I said. "We need something much stiffer."

She shook her head slowly, pushed the first bin back under its shelf and pulled out the second one.

"I didn't know it would be this easy to get you on your knees in public, " I said. "You look quite the slave girl there, shuffling around in the floor."

She looked straight into my eyes and very slowly nodded. The muscles in her face strained and her hands shook slightly. She was trying as hard as she could to put off another orgasm.

Then something broke. The strain fled from her face and her hands dropped limp at her sides. Her head rolled forward and she was totally motionless for a minute or two. She looked back up at me and a broad smile spread across her face. I saw a tiny sliver of dimpled ball behind her parted lips and teeth. She slowly raised her hand and lifted three fingers.

I smiled and nodded slowly. "Three," I said.

Her head again rocked down onto her chest. Her body shuddered once, twice, three times. Her little finger rose to join the others. She looked up again, her smile even broader.

"Four?" I asked. "You amaze me."

She nodded once, then shook her head wildly, swinging her hair in a cloud around her shoulders. Reaching back into the bin, she immediately pulled out a piece of stiff black leather. Its shape was irregular, about a foot long by four inches wide.

"Perfect." I said. "Come along. Bring it."

She slid the bin under its shelf and struggled to her feet, clutching her find in one hand. Her face was slightly flushed. Tiny beads of sweat made her neck, cheeks and forehead glisten.

She stood behind me at the checkout while I paid for our purchases. I handed her the bag. She took it and held the door for me as we left the store.

Once we were out on the highway, I told her she could remove the golf ball from her mouth. She did so eagerly and dropped it back in the glove compartment.

"What happened in there?" I asked.

"I stopped trying to fight it. Fighting it wasn't doing much good anyway."

"Is that all?"

"I was imagining what the guy at the counter was thinking. That was about the most humiliating thing you've ever done to me, Master. " She looked away, out the window, and then back at me. A lopsided grin crossed her face. "I still can't believe how much it turned . . . turns me on."

"I'm glad you're having a good time. You came twice that quickly?"

"Yes, Master. Once. And again and . . . Master, it hasn't really stopped. It . . . I . . . Master . . . if you touch me . . . I think I'll . . . "

I dropped my right hand off the steering wheel and onto her leg. I slowly slid my fingers up her thigh, stopping only when they reached the strap that parted her pussy. I brushed my fingertips lightly along the strap and across the wings of the "butterfly" vibrator.

She clutched my wrist with both hands, pressing my fingers hard against her groin and the strap running through it. My hand ground into the soft rubber of the butterfly against her pelvis. My fingers found the round end of the dildo and forced it deeper into her wet pussy. She hunched over in her seat and closed her eyes tight. Her breathing came shallow and fast.

A traffic light turned red ahead of us and I braked to a stop, thankful for the automatic transmission that let me drive one-handed.

She groaned, "Hnnnnnnnnhh, hnnnnnnnnhh, hnnnnnnnhh," as every muscle in her body seemed to tense and freeze. Suddenly, she relaxed, released my hand and fell back against her seat. My fingers brushed through a slick pool on her seat as I brought my hand back to the steering wheel.

"Thank you, Master," she said breathlessly. "Oh God, that was amazing. I don't . . . " She finally opened her eyes and looked up at the traffic around us. "Oh no." She scanned the intersection with a deer-in-the-headlights expression of wide eyed panic. She yanked the hem of her skirt down across her still spread thighs. "Do you think anybody saw. . .?"

"I don't think so." I chuckled softly. The light changed to green and I pulled out across the intersection "They've all got their windows up and their air conditioning on. I'd be surprised if anyone even looked this way, never mind seeing what we were doing. Now, if there'd been a semi parked next to us . . . "

"Master!"

"...the driver would have had a ringside seat."

"Please, Master. You're going to make me cum again."

"Me? I've got both hands on the steering wheel, slut. You mean you're going to make yourself cum again. And so soon. I have trouble understanding how you could cum again after those last three."

"It's not like they're really separate, Master. I...I just get wound up and stay that way. It just doesn't take much to set me off."

"I can see that. I wonder what might have happened if I'd left that vibrator on."

"You'd be sitting next to a pool of very submissive Jell-O, Master." She took a very deep breath. "Just thinking about it nearly makes me cum" "

" Don't think about it then, slut. Try to calm down. Think about baseball or something."

"Yes, Master. I'll try, but I don't think it'll help much."

Two and a half hours of the "punishment" I had chosen for that evening was about all I thought she could tolerate, so I changed our plans for the rest of our shopping trip. I decided to take her back to our apartment and do our grocery shopping on my own. I pulled the car into a space in front of our building.

"What about our picnic, Master?" she asked.

"I'll walk over to the store in a few minutes," I responded. The grocery store was only a couple hundred yards from our apartment. "I think you need a little rest."

"Thank you, Master."

"Don't be too grateful," I said. "Hurry upstairs. I'll bring the packages."

I watched her slide out of the car. She quickly brushed her skirt down behind her, in a motion that made sure no one but me could tell what she was doing. She dashed across the yard and up the open stairway. She turned and blew me a kiss from the breezeway outside our door, then disappeared inside. The door closed behind her with a heavy thunk.

I picked up the two bags from the back seat and followed up the stairs. She knelt, naked, face to the floor, in the center of the living room. In both hands, she held out her collar in front of her. The high-heeled sandals were still on her feet. The belt still encircled her waist. I saw the crotch strap trail from the belt and vanish into the furrow between the cheeks of her ass. I was surprised that she had managed to undress so quickly, but her clothes were nowhere to be seen. .