Humbling Ch 02

Note: This is fiction, intended to entertain readers. It has graphic lesbian sex scenes. There's also domination and submission in this story. If you can't legally view this, please don't! Any resemblance between these characters and any person is coincidental.

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It was still before 2000 when we reached the shopping center, so we had over two hours to shop. I was going to use that time to find clothes and underclothes that would make my slave look like a goddess and feel like a complete slut. But there were two last minute reminders to give her before we started hunting. I parked and I turned to my ravishing companion. "Don't speak unless I give you permission, even if someone asks you a question. Follow your mistress's instructions immediately, and you'll do fine."

"Yes, Mistress."

I leaned and captured her lips in a kiss. She responded so vehemently that I pulled back. "You are a wanton pussy-slut, but try not to prove it every time I touch you. Kiss like someone who might get kissed again someday, not like a desparate bitch!"

"Mistress, it's the only way a slave's been allowed to show affection. Shouldn't a slave make the most of it?" Her voice was frustrated but not complaining. On her face were the beginnings of that adorable pout I'd anticipated.

I couldn't let her win and I couldn't compromise, especially not this early. Betraying no hesitance and no desire to let her kiss me any way she wanted with those divine lips, I said sternly, "Doesn't my slave believe her Mistress knows what's best for her?"

"Yes, Mistress," she conceded.

"Good. Don't question me again, or the dress will stay in the car while my slut and I shop. Also, you'll probably want to cum at some point. You are no longer allowed to cum unless I give you permission-no matter what the circumstances."

That put a bit of healthy fear back into her eyes, and more than a little excitement. All she said was, "Yes, Mistress."

I kissed her again and she kissed back softly and sweetly, satisfying my demand for more restraint from her. I had made it clear that I was still in charge, and we'd both gotten some enjoyment from it.

We went first to a clothing boutique that tends to offer fashions that are on the naughty side, intended to be worn by rebellious high school and college girls. My slave was pretty embarrassed just being in the store, looking at the micro-skirts, abbreviated tops, and racy lingerie. "I figured we'd buy the tame, everyday wear first," I told her, holding out a red halter-top-and-short-short set to her.

She took the clothing. "Should I try on these now, Mistress?"

"Yes, and come show me the results. I'll keep looking; I'll have more for you to model shortly." She went toward the change rooms. I found a pretty yellow peasant top that could be adjusted to expose from very little to almost all of her chest, depending on how tightly it was laced. I also spotted a tan micro-skirt that would go well with it. Nice for casual wear, but-ah, there was a shiny black pleather sleeveless top with matching gloves that reached past the elbows. Now I was getting somewhere. There was the perfect counterpoint: tight white linen low-rise pants that flared at the shins. And my slave was returning, excellent! She matched the halter and shorts with her red cheeks. She was displayed quite nicely, and I motioned her to turn in a slow circle. Damn, her ass looked great. It was just barely covered by the shorts. This outfit was a definite winner.

I held out the next two outfits for her. "Now you look much more like the Queen Cheap Slut: very good. Try these next and don't take so long this time. Give me what you're wearing now when you get back, because we're buying them."

"Y-yes, Mistress," she said.

I found a slinky pink silk camisole top and very short faded pink denim skirt, and thought those would work quite well with her skin color. (My slave was not a tanner; she had smooth, pale skin.) I didn't think I'd find too much else in the way of garments for her here, so I moved to the lingerie section. There were a few that seemed almost good enough, but my brunette toy had an amazing pair of Cs on her 86 cm (34") chest, and I was not going to let them be clad in anything but the best. My slave returned, wearing the peasant top and short skirt. "Hold still," I commanded. I pulled the laces slack until the very tops of her aureolas could be seen. I stepped back and watched as she turned her circle. "Not quite as nice as the first, but they'll do. Get into the next outfit now." She marched away and I returned to my search.

I was about to stop looking when I noticed a nice pink mesh bra with little flowers. It would match her skin tone almost exactly. I had to have her try it. She came back in the pink skirt and cami; interesting, she'd put off the black and white ensemble. That must have made her least comfortable and I could use that knowledge! She was obviously a bit embarrassed to be wearing even this. "Face away from me," I told her, "and bend at the waist."

She choked back her protest, but she was shaking with shame and excitement as she bent over for me. The skirt was just barely decent: her butt and her swelling mound somehow remained covered. "Okay, try the last one," I said absently, "and put on this bra under it."

I looked a little bit at some other clothes, but I thought I had found the good stuff in this store. My slave returned, looking emotionally uncomfortable with this outfit; and I admit, it was the sluttiest so far. The long gloves in particular made her look like a T&A sci-fi movie starlet. I took in her ass when she turned. I said, "The pants aren't quite right." I handed her the same pair with a slightly smaller waist. She changed, and I was waiting right outside the dressing room when she was done.

"Better," I said. Her super thighs and ass didn't look covered so much as painted white, thanks to the pants' tight fit. My slut was turning pink again as I looked her up and down.

"Show me everything," I ordered.

She looked around. There were two or three other customers in the area, and a salesgirl was in this section, so I wasn't surprised at her reaction. (What were the odds they were paying attention to what we were doing? This was a calculated risk.) "People will see-"

"-I didn't say you could speak. Show me the bra."

Glancing around frantically, she pulled up the short black shirt. I'd been right about her skin tone; from more than 10 m away, her breasts must have looked bare. The flimsy mesh didn't hide her scarlet nipples at all. I was salivating! "Looks good," I pronounced coolly, and she yanked down her shirt again.

We took our purchases to the bored-looking cashier. "Did you ladies find what you wanted tonight?" she asked semi-politely while she scanned my credit card.

"I got a few nice things for my slut," I said, slapping my toy's ass loudly. The cashier stared at us open-mouthed; my companion stared at the floor, her hand shaking in mine.

"Um, good," the cashier finally answered.

"No, great. She's going to enjoy peeling them off for me," I told her.

"Well, have a nice night, then," the girl at the counter said hoarsely, almost as embarrassed as my slave.

We left the shop, and I felt the grip on my hand tighten meaningfully. "What is it?" I asked.

"A slave...hopes we're done, Mistress."

"We've barely started!"

"Then, could Mistress please...keep from..."

"...What? Say it, if it's important enough to waste my time."

"A slave isn't used to this, Mistress!" Her eyes pleaded with me to stop.

By now we'd gotten to the car. As I unlocked it, I gave her a grin of pure evil. "We're putting these outfits in the trunk, except the pink skirt and cami, which you will wear starting now."

"...Oh, no!" she whispered.

"I said 'now'," I told her gently.

Her shaking hands took the short denim skirt from the bag and she stepped into it and pulled it up under her dress, as fast as she could. I still caught a flash of her pussy, and it was gleaming with her fluids. She pulled up the dress to her waist and jumped into the passenger side of my car, then whipped the dress over her head and ducked while she fumbled with the camisole. She finally managed to slip into it. She stared at me, obviously wondering why she didn't see horns and a tail. I had looked around briefly while her vision was obscured by the cami, so I wasn't worried about being caught. This would only take 30 seconds, a minute at most. I put my hand on her thigh to keep her from going anywhere and dropped to my knees. "Spread your legs, bitch. You have permission to cum," I said flatly. I drove my tongue into her soaking pussy.

"Oh fuck!" she cooed, her hands running through my hair. I was right. She came fast, and very hard. She tasted so good, too! I was growing very aroused myself, but I have adamant willpower. My time would come. When I stood again, probably less than a minute had elapsed.

"Good job, getting off like a trashy whore in a parking lot. That pleased me, because you stayed true to yourself. But who told you you could touch me?"

"A slave couldn't help it, Mistress; please don't penalize a slave for that!" she begged. "Mistress just gave a slave the most unbelievable-"

"-Lick your juice off my chin."

That seemed pretty degrading for her. I hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Her mouth felt very good as she obediently cleaned her own sex fluids off my face. When I decided she was done, I had more orders for her. "Put the blue dress in the bag with the new clothes. We're going to the next store."

Once her fledgling wardrobe was locked in my trunk, I led my scrumptious toy to the shopping center's better shoe store. (It has two, despite its size.) She smelled faintly like the pussy-juice I hadn't let her wipe off her thighs and labia. I'm sure that was looming very large in her mind. We went directly toward the high-heel section. Predictably, an eager salesgirl approached us. "May I help you?" she asked energetically.

"Very soon, yes," I answered. "We're here for sexy shoes and boots for her."

"Oh, wanting to impress the boyfriend, huh?" she asked my companion.

"No. She's not allowed to talk to you and I'm making all the buying decisions, so this will go a lot faster if you address only me."

The salesgal looked confused. But I'd been scanning the racks since we'd entered the store, and I saw a pair of pink suede pumps with 10 or 11 cm heels. "Do you have those in 39?" I asked. (That's 25.1 cm, or 10".) The puzzled salesgirl regained her courteous manner. She took the box and went to check for the shoes. I gave my slave her next bit of instruction once the girl was out of earshot. "While your mistress is looking for shoes, you look for black boots. They need spike heels no less than 10 cm and they need to reach at least your knees in height."

In a couple of minutes, the saleslady had returned and I had a killer pair of crimson stilettos chosen as the next candidates. "Sit and try on the shoes," I told my slut.

She suddenly remembered her short skirt, lack of panties, and the presence of the helpful salesgirl. Her look was priceless-helplessness and incredulity. She sat with her thighs clamped tightly together and tried to act as natural as possible while the store employee crouched just a few cm from her naked vagina and put the wicked shoes on her feet. My slave managed to avoid discovery; I was impressed. She walked slowly in the heels, feeling relieved to be standing, however temporarily. "How do they feel?"

"Very good...Mistress," she answered, ashamed to call me that in front of the saleslady. The saleslady wasn't exactly comfortable with hearing it, either. "Okay. These are 39s too; try them next." I gave the red stilettos to our helper and watched with interest. The salesgirl was also watching closely-after all, my slut has sensational legs-and it was her job to pay attention to customers.

So closely was she watching that my slave couldn't possibly hide her lack of underwear this time.

Our salesgirl turned bright red, which made my slave respond the same way, of course! Trying to collect herself, the girl turned to me. I gave her the smallest knowing smile. She quickly turned away from me.

It took 10 seconds for her to steel herself enough to start assisting my pretty plaything again.

(I knew she wouldn't say a word. First, my girl's so cute, it's hard to object if she's exposed. Second, this saleslady was earning commission. Customers you kick out don't buy shoes, and they don't come back.)

While my slave walked gracefully in her 13 cm stilettos, I concluded that there weren't any other shoes I wanted from here. I had assigned her to look for boots, and I wanted to see what she'd come up with, so I chose to observe. If she didn't find at least one pair to try, I would look for myself. "Well?" I asked when she came back toward us.

"They fit, Mistress."

"Do 'you' like them?" I asked, implying what I wanted her to say.

"A slave thinks they're too much," she said, her voice a whimper as she forced the words past her lips. I knew she'd never forget this shoe store!

"Unless they're uncomfortable, we're buying them," I said.

"They aren't uncomfortable, Mistress."

Our salesgirl fled to the back of the store, ostensibly to get the box for the shoes. I put my hands on my prize's shoulders. "Breathe slowly. And don't forget the boots."

"Will there be anything else?" the salesgirl asked when she reappeared. She looked determinedly at the carpet in front of me.

"Possibly; my slave's looking at your boots now. You know, there's no need to be embarrassed."

"I've been...flashed before, but this..." she said, not sure how to finish.

"I pretty much made her do it. Am I a depraved bitch?" I asked. "You can tell me honestly."

"...No, ma'am," she replied.

"I'd better try harder then," I said, and I winked.

That shut up the salesgirl.

Presently, the somewhat-calmer brunette returned, carrying a pair of chrome-toed boots that filled my requirements. Wordlessly, she and the salesgirl removed the shoes and slipped on the boots, each pretending that the other didn't exist. Still, the employee knew subconsciously that this was her last chance to look at my slut's pussy and she stole many glimpses, looking away immediately every time. If I'd had the inclination, I might have invited her back with us. No, this was much too soon.

My slave looked resplendent in the boots as she sashayed up and down the aisle. Too bad they clashed with her skirt and top, or I'd have told her to keep wearing them.

We left the store, the silent brown-eyed beauty now sporting her sexy pink heels instead of the pumps she'd worn when we arrived.

I'd been having too much fun. I was worked up, and worse-we only had half an hour left to shop. I decided to go for more bras tonight and work on more outfits, cosmetics, and accessories later.

All our treasures stowed, we entered the lingerie/novelty shop. There was no way my slave had been in here before. I could almost hear her heartbeat. I went for the peek-a-boo models first, and saw two I liked: one ruffled white satin, one soft white leather. They'd provide great support and look outrageously hot. Corsets-oh yeah, they had a nice selection. I found a padded royal blue PVC corset that would support her breasts but leave them comletely exposed. Definitely a contender! I also considered a white cotton corset that would provide support without coverage and had built-in garter-straps...if I could find nice stockings for my slave, that look could be irresistible.

To my surprise, my brunette bitch took the initiative and looked at the traditional bras while I was busy, picking out three and bringing them to me. She'd picked quality merchandise, too. I dismissed the black cotton number she'd chosen out-of-hand: it wasn't revealing enough. But the sheer white shelf bra had real possibilities and-despite its color-she'd also brought a maroon satin bra that could be really cute. "Start trying on these," I said, handing the white and the maroon back to her as well as the corsets and peek-a-boos I'd selected.

There were no changing rooms in the store, just a folding screen one could step behind. She left to do her task while I looked at the last type of bras I'd browse tonight: cupless. Like the corsets, they offered support only. I chose one that was hot pink with black lace, one that was pale pink, and one that was black with white faux-fur trim.

My slave came back as I was taking my last choice off the rack. This time I was going to make it a bit easier for her; I led her back behind the screen. "We're running short on time, or I'd have you show me in the middle of the store," I said. "Hurry. I'll give the 'yea' or 'nay' after each and you get into the next one."

The blue corset didn't fit quite right, and the maroon satin bra wasn't quite sexy enough, but all the others were lust-inspiring to say the least. We left with our purchases a minute before 2200.

"You did pretty well, all things considered," I told the fine woman in my passenger seat.

"Thank you, Mistress. A slave tried to please Mistress."

She was definitely fishing for my ruling on whether her behavior was good enough to be rewarded. I let her dangle. "You didn't say I spent too much. Am I to assume you can afford your percentage comfortably?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And if we continue shopping tomorrow?"

"A slave wouldn't object to a few modest purchases, Mistress."

"They won't be 'modest!' But they will be inexpensive. I kept our purchases inexpensive today as well. As for your performance, I'm inclined to think you haven't 'dressed sexy' in years."

"Only eight months, Mistress. But a slave never wore anything like what a slave's wearing now."

"Your mistress is very pleased with how you look in that ensemble. My slave has to admit she looks fetching in it."

"They look better on a slave than a slave expected, Mistress."

"Your Mistress knows what's best; this is just more proof."

We had pulled up to a red traffic light, and she noticed we weren't in the turn lane. "Mistress, slave quarters are to the left," she said.

"We're going to my house, not my slut's flat. We're going to live there this weekend."

She looked deliriously happy at that. "Thank you, Mistress!" she said, looking like a kid who'd been told Christmas would last a month this year.

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