I hate big box stores and I hate Target. I hate everything companies like this stand for. I hate the garbage they sell, the ethic of consumption they shove down societies throats, and I particularly hate the tentacles that trail behind them into the factories and sweatshops in far away lands where people who can't afford to even imagine the volumes of garbage we buy toil day after day only to deliver profit margins to a fictitious corporate entity that squirrels away it's wealth in the foreign accounts of its executives. If we bought 1/10th of the stuff we buy, we could afford to pay twice as much, have it made in our own country, and we'd have a growing middle class and a cleaner environment. This is the set of thoughts that usually enters my mind when I approach the Target parking lot, but not today.
Today, I'm not me. I'm playing a character that looks just like me, but her name is Mindy, and she's not here to really buy anything. Today she's here to be a human animal in a playground that happens to be setup like a Target superstore. As soon as I parked my car and let my hair down, I am Mindy.
It was cool out, but bright and clear. The opposite of this grey and rainy day on which I'm writing this entry. It's the kind of weather that compelled me to look out the window and say to myself - "yes, a pleated mini, a tank top, a zip-up hoodie, and sneakers will be perfect today." Of source, the decision is informed only by a look out the window (not the actual temperature) and knowledge that my friend who dared me to take this adventure would have spanked me if she knew I was looking in my dresser and seriously considering wearing some underwear.
Pulling in to the Target lot, I had some ideas about what could possibly play out within that gigantic building, and I was going to explore them one by one. Knowing myself, I knew that each success would excited me and drive me to push the envelope. I also know that failures are a quick turn-off and I was already considering alternative plans, namely heading back home and masturbating before the baby-sitter had to go back to her home. I was committed to NOT failing!
It was quite cool so I skipped through the parking lot into the still, dry, and warm embrace of the Target's heating and ventilation system. It was much more quiet that I had expected, and my thoughts of a more mall-like environment gave way to a much more 'civilized' space that was trying it's best to keep me there for a few hours. I look up at the signage suspended from the ceiling...Home...Misses...Juniors..etc etc. Bright colors, bright lights, and shiny floors, all made for a hard-to-hide situation. I already felt exposed, and I was barely 20 feet into the building.
My eye was caught by the shoes, far down the aisle on the left. Before I knew it my feet were stepping in that direction, ready to try on a few pairs. I had visions of cute shoe-sales boys bringing me sizes to try on, which were quickly erased when I arrived at the shoe department and saw not a single clerk or sales person around. I remember thinking 'this is a bummer - but it is an empty playground with mirrors - good for a warm up!' So that's just what I did. I grabbed a box of 7's sneakers and a pair of sandals also in 7. They looked too big, but I wasn't planning on buying them in any case.
I found a bench towards the back, as it was the only one actually facing the main isle which I assumed would be where any would-be watchers might be walking. Instead of smoothing my skirt underneath me as I sat, I did just the opposite. I pushed my skirt back behind me so I was sitting directly on my butt instead of on my skirt. The plastic of the bench was cold, but quickly warmed up to my body temperature as I wiggled into place. I crossed my legs to untie my shoes, and felt plenty of air flowing underneath me, between my thighs and under my butt. I loved the feeling, and was watching myself a bit in one of the mirrors which faced me, but was over to one side by several feet. I could see that I was showing a fair amount of skin. This went of for a little while, with a few shoppers walking past, with no one actually noticing my little show. I decided then that I may as well push it a bit and squat down with knees apart to look at the contents of the lower shelves.
Within less than a few seconds I saw a man and woman round the corner, with their (presumably) two-year old riding in their cart. PING went my brain and I remember thinking "perfect, I'm going to catch this man's eye and he's going to get smacked by his wife, FUN!" Within a microsecond the young bearded man turned his head and looked straight at me, then down, to between my legs. His eyes dilated immediately as I looked at him. Within that split second I pivoted slightly on the balls of my feet, rotated myself in-line with his vision, and opened my legs further. I felt his eyes dig between my thighs, searching for a direct look at what I know he wanted to see. I felt instincively he got a look, because I saw him breath in deeply. A force older than even our human species was forcing him to inhale, to desperately get a whiff of my scent from so far away. Obviously an impossibility, but we all know that often mans' craving for woman is anything but rational. A moment later he turned his head again, forward, forcing himself to look away. All the while his eyes strained to look to his left, at me, and more specifically at my pussy. We made eye contact again, I smiled, and so did he. Another split second later, the couple had moved on.
I couldn't believe how much energy I took from those few seconds. It was a jolt of energy, a pulse in my chest that travels upwards into my brain and face, and down into my belly, down to my legs, wrapping around my thighs to engulf my sex.
I stood, put my own shoes back on my feet, replaced the shoes I tried on and moved on through the store. I soon found myself in the women's area where workout clothes and office outfits seemed to be haphazardly commingled. I saw a cute sundress out of the corner of my eye and thought 'light and thin, flimsy and perfect!' So I grabbed an x-small off the rack and took it to the corner where a sign suspended from the ceiling read 'fitting rooms.' I was excited as I smiled and said hello to the two young ladies that were folding and hanging clothes outside of the fitting rooms, and I was absolutely thrilled to see a tiny sign that read "notice: dressing rooms are monitored by security personnel via closed circuit. shoplifters will be prosecuted." Being "monitored" was definitely high on my priority list that day. The idea of some security guard somewhere in the building watching was a potent one...so in I went.
There were three stalls, two occupied with the middle available. I stepped in to the stall and closed the cheaply-built door behind me, noting that the walls stopped at about a foot off the floor. I thought two things: 1) I wish I had cuter feet and 2) it would be a great place for a person with a foot fetish to hang out! I hung the dress up on one of the hooks on the wall near me, and looked around casually to find the security cameras that the sign warned of. I could not find a single one. I decided that either there are no cameras and the sign is just to scare people straight, or there are cameras and they are extremely well hidden. Because it was much more fun to assume the second, I did. Further, I pretended that the camera was actually behind the mirror, like a two-way mirror in a police interrogation room. With the fantasy firmly rooted in my mind, I went fourth and did the best strip-tease I could muster up, facing the mirror. Once I was naked (except for the sneakers), I played a bit with my breasts, and eventually pulled the dress over myself. It was a lousy fit, but it still felt sexy. I decided to push my dance a little more for my imaginary audience behind the mirror. I turned with my back to the mirror, put my foot up on the bench/seat, and bent over, giving the mirror a nice close up of my ass and pussy. I was truly horny, and I had to finger myself, so I did. I finger fucked myself for a minute or two, and very much enjoined myself, but stopped well short of climaxing. I did something I would have never otherwise done, and dried my fingers on the inside of the dress, and hung it back up on the wall. I was now on a mission, and I put my outfit back on and walked out of the dressing room. The Target workers said hello again and I stopped and thought...then I said "Hey guys, last week I was here and I think I might have dropped my gym membership card in the dressing room. the sign says that security watches the place, so do they run a lost-and-found or anything like that?" One of the girls responded with "yes, lost and found is with security, do you want me to call them?" to which I replied "that's OK, I'll just go over there." and she said "their offices are all the way in the back behind home and garden." "Thanks!" I said, and off I went.
"Home and Garden" I repeated to myself, "doesn't that sound nice?" I walked towards the back of the gigantic store, and the floors got slightly dustier, and the shelves slightly less well kept. I had let my instincts take over, and I wasn't thinking any more. I was "all in" as they say. Poking around, I finally found a set of double doors against the back wall, with windows set into them. Peering through the windows I saw a hallway, an in it were six doors neatly labeled, like in Batman's cave: Emergency Exit, Break Room, Women's Restroom, Men's Restroom, Managers Office, and Security. "Bingo," I thought...
I thought I would have to steel myself, but I didn't. Because I was Mindy, a far more brazen woman than the self I left at home, my hand just went for the lever on the door and pushed it open. I was sure that I was in a place that I wasn't supposed to be, but no mater, I was on a mission. As I walked down the hallway to last door on the left (Security), the door to the break room opened. I was already past the door, so I had to turn around to see what was happening. As I turned, I was struck by a simple thought: "how's this for lucky timing?" My eyes were met by a fairly handsome and very well-muscled man in his early 40's. Standing perhaps a few inches over six feet tall, with neat corn-rows braided into his hair, I could smell his cologne through his dark blue canvas jump-suite, and I could see by his sharp features and shiny police/army boots that he was a meticulous man who appreciated details. James (as his name tag read) said to me "can I help you, ma'am?" "oh yes you can." I thought to myself...
"Well maybe," I replied without thinking. Mindy was in control, with words flowing fourth in a sweet voice that the real me might have found a bit too saccharin, perhaps annoying. "I think I lost my gym membership card in the store last week and I was told that security has a lost-and-found. Is that right?" (the rest of the words are approximate, but I think sharing the dialog is important):
James: "That's right - My shift was just ending but I can show you where the lost and found is."
Mindy: "Great thanks"
And with that, he took me through the door market 'Security.' To the right of the tidy office was a cluster of 6 or 8 cubicles, and to the left was a long desk positioned in front of an array of computer screens, each one of which showed four windows of grainy video streaming in from cameras around the sprawling building. Many of the screens had little post-its and labels made on a label maker affixed to them, but otherwise, it was a spotless and highly professional looking facility. I scanned the screens to see if anything looked familiar. Certainly the cash registers, I noticed the shoe area where I had been previously, but in searching for things that looked like a dressing room, I came up totally empty - not a single one. James jolted me out of my focused concentration saying "can you describe your card, ma'am?"
Mindy: "Sure, it's a 24-hour fitness card, with my picture on it, and the name is Mindy."
James: "OK, I'll be right back."
I was stunned that he left me there, with just one operator who was scanning all the screens. I could see the whole complex and I had assumed that this would be a secure area that they kept very private. The man at the large desk looked towards me and nodded. "Hi!" I said.
Within a minute, James returned.
James: "Well, there are a number of cards of various types, but no 24-hour fitness card. I'm sorry."
Mindy: "That's OK, that's for sticking around here to help me out."
With that, James escorted me out of the security offices and back into the hallway. His smell was very attractive...and I decided it was time to act.
Mindy (sheepishly): "So James how long have you worked here?"
James: "3 years now, it's a good job and I like it."
Mindy: "So you know the place really well then obviously...can I ask you a question?"
James: "Sure"
