My Very Own

Chapter 12. Working Girl

Katie smiled, her whole face lighting up. Unguarded joy burst within her, filling her body with sparking explosions of electricity, leaving her skin tingling. She stood beside a table in the library, holding her bag behind her back, as near to attention as she could get. She had been shuffling and fidgeting, the anticipation as she waited for Lauren not allowing her the comfort of stillness. She had thought, momentarily, of sitting down but had dismissed it immediately, abashed that it had even entered her mind, however briefly.

When Lauren spotted the waiting teen, she smiled. Katie’s chest became suddenly tight, as if great cords of steel were slowly constricting her. Breathing came hard and her mouth went dry, her tongue feeling like a lead weight inside her. She could feel the beat of her heart pounding in her head and her knees went weak. She had to make a conscious effort not to drop her bag to the floor. What was going on with her? She was happy to see Lauren, sure but what was this? Was she getting sick?

The young girl stood dumbfounded as Lauren approached and sat at the table.  She watched Lauren ease herself gracefully into the chair, waiting for permission to join her. It was in moments like these, when the most mundane of activities was denied her, that she felt her submission so keenly. Her gaze flickered tentatively around the room, gauging the potential witnesses to her demeaning service. The library was almost empty, most people using their so-called ‘study period’ as a chance to socialise, which is what she had done before becoming Lauren’s property. She was to be where her owner decided now. It had been a waste of time anyway, her friends had not really been friends. They had tolerated her, kept her around as comic relief. She knew they made fun of her, always behind her back but spilling out in subtle ways. She remembered the contempt she sometimes felt radiating from them when she said something silly. She never felt that from her owner. Lauren punished her, and chastised her harshly, but it was only because she had done something wrong. It was different.

“Sit. You look lovely today Kitty.”

“Thank you Miss.”

“Actually let me see that sexy little body. Do a little catwalk for me.”

Katie stood, looking nervously around the room. No one was paying them any special attention, a glance here or there but no one knew anything about what was going on. She self-consciously straightened her skirt and then headed down the aisle between the tables. She tried to make her movements dainty and sexy at the same time, doing her best to emulate the models on the catwalk. There was a  delicate bounce to each step, more from the happiness she felt at being with Lauren than any real modeling ability, that caused her skirt to shift and sway enticingly.

Lauren admired the young girl. She had come a long way in so very short a time. She could see the growing confidence that Katie had in her body, the blossoming sexuality that she could not hide. All those months she had walked around, her little secret hidden safely inside her, there had been no change, at least none that Lauren could see. And yet, since becoming her slave, there had been a subtle change, a definite refining of the way she carried herself, an awareness of her sensuality. She was definitely a sexy little slut.

Her owner had dressed her in a short, grey tartan skirt, the soft wool feeling luxurious against her skin. A black shirt continued the theme of muted colours, black bra underneath and her open-toed leather strap sandals gave her an almost bohemian look. Katie had known she looked sexy, amazed that the modest outfit would appear anything but drab. The fact that she had been allowed panties, the bright red hipster briefs providing the only splash of colour she wore, had been a great comfort to her.

As she returned to the table, after performing a coquettish twirl at the end of her imaginary catwalk, Katie remembered the stomach-churning anticipation she had felt that morning as she checked Dressing Kitty to discover what Lauren had chosen. She had almost wept with relief when she had seen her near naked form, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny red panties, smile back at her from the monitor. She didn’t think she could face another day without something covering her pussy, not after yesterday. At least not so soon. She had not done well yesterday, and she had been worried that she hadn’t deserved panties but she trusted her owner. Lauren knew what was best for her. The impressionable teen looked to her now, seeking the seated girl’s approval.

“Sit. Very nice Kitty. That little butt of yours is delicious. Have you been taking good care of my property?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Exercising, brushing your teeth and washing that slut body of yours?”

“Yes Miss,” Katie replied, blushing at the personal probing in such a public place.

“How’s that pussy?”

“Wet Miss. It is a little creamy since playing this morning,” Katie said, her blush deepening.

“Good. Well what do you think of your schedule?”

“Uh, good Miss,” the young girl replied, taken aback by the unexpected question. Lauren remained silent, watching her expectantly. “It is a really good help to know what I should be doing and I am trying really hard to keep to it. I missed some minutes this morning, but I will do better,” she finished in a rush.

“Well Kitty, that is to be expected I suppose. I know it’s hard. You’ve been such a slack little bitch for so long that anything would be hard, but that doesn’t mean I should let you get away with bad behaviour does it?”

“No Miss,” replied Katie meekly, knowing that the Lauren was right, she shouldn’t be given any leeway.

“Looking forward to work tonight?”

“Yes Miss,” she replied, thinking quickly and deciding that complete honesty was required. “Kind of Miss. I’m a bit nervous. A lot nervous, really… and a little bit scared .”

Katie laughed nervously, a soft jittery sound, and looked at Lauren. She searched her owners face for understanding, longing to see the comfort that she needed, the small spark of reassurance that would put her fears to rest. She almost melted when Lauren smiled at her, those pale blue eyes glittering softly, containing a warmth that had become so important to her. It was a need that had been growing ever stronger, deepening and becoming harder to ignore. It was especially strong when they were apart. Katie knew that Lauren was only a few miles away but, when they were not together, it felt as if they were on opposite sides of the world.

“You’ll be fine Kitty. Just remember who you are. No homework tonight, but you still have your blog.”

“Miss?” Katie asked hesitantly, the uncertainty she felt when speaking out of turn almost preventing her from doing so.

“Hmmm?”

“Miss, I talked to Miranda yesterday. She has the locker next to mine and she’s a really nice girl and I like her, she’s nice,” Katie babbled, suddenly questioning the wisdom of broaching the subject once she had begun.

“That’s nice, Kitty,” Lauren said smirking. “This is going somewhere?”

“Yes Miss, sorry. I talked to Miranda and she isn’t pretty but she’s nice,” Fuck, idiot, think of another word, “but she doesn’t know much about, um, about looking after herself. She said she really liked my new hair and she thought I could maybe help her."

Lauren looked at her strangely. It sounded fucking retarded, Katie knew. It had sounded much better last night. She just seemed to get tongue-tied around Lauren and everything she wanted to say came out wrong or made her sound mental. She needed to try again. She couldn't have Lauren looking at her like that.

"Miss, I would like to be friends with a girl who has the locker next to mine so I could help her to look prettier and to look after herself. May I help her like that please Miss?"

"You have a very busy schedule already Kitty," Lauren said, watching as Katie's head slumped despondently. "What's this Miranda like?"

"Oh Miss," Katie said, her head whipping up in hope. "Miranda is really nice. She has always talked to me and treated me ni-, really good. She's really friendly and she does good in school and she doesn't have a boyfriend and I don't think she has many other friends either. She's a bit of a geek."

"And what do you think you can do Kitty?"

"Uh Miss, I could help her with her hair. It's not very nice but it could be. And she's a bit overweight and I could show her about exercising and-"

"What do you think you know about such things Kitty?"

"Uh Miss, um only what you have shown me in my training."

"Do you want to train Miranda? Do you want a little pet of your own?"

"No Miss," Katie spluttered, shocked at the idea. "No Miss, please, it's only, I just thought maybe I could help because she is nice to me and I wanted to be nice to her."

"Well, let me think about it. I can't have anything interfering with your training. Slut like you needs to be watched for backsliding. How many minutes behind are you today?"

"Um, three I think Miss," Katie replied, wincing a little at the admission.

"Well Kitty, until your behaviour is good enough that you can stay on schedule then you don't have time for anything else. After school you can point this girl out to me and we shall see."

"Thank you Miss, thanks so much."

"I haven't given you anything yet. It's all up to your behaviour."

"I know Miss, thank you just for, um, the opportunity to prove to you that I can be good."

"Ok my little slut, run along and play with that pussy for me. Four minutes, then come straight back. You can leave your bag here, I will look after it. You'll only need your dildo."

Katie looked at her owner, sitting casually across the table. She wasn't joking or being silly. The look on Lauren's face was serious, with maybe just a hint of mischief pulling at the corners of her mouth. She leaned down and reluctantly drew forth the small black felt bag that held her dildo. She had no pockets, no way in which to hide it. It was too long to be disguised in her hand. She would be walking through the school, dildo in hand. Anyone who saw her was sure to know what it was. She looked once more at her owner, her reluctance radiating from every pore.

"Hurry up Kitty, you've only just got enough time to get back here before the bell."

Katie stood up and walked purposefully from the library. The nearest restroom wasn't too far away and it was a study period so most of the school would be in class, but still. The fear of discovery gripped her like an iron fist as she walked past the other students in the library. She couldn't help but think their hushed whispers were about her. She tried to hide the dildo bag along her arm as she passed but she could feel the heat that coloured her cheeks as the humiliation of what she was doing deepened.

Was this a punishment for being so bold as to ask about Miranda? She hadn't meant to be rude or disrespectful she just wanted to help. The thought of another girl she could talk to and be friends with, real friends, was enticing to her. She had never meant anything like what Lauren had said. She didn't want anything but friendship. She didn't want any other girls to be like her, forced to do things, like play with their already wet pussy at the whim of a classmate.

That's all it was, Katie was sure. Lauren wouldn't have her play with her pussy as a punishment. There were different ways, better ways, to teach her a lesson. She hurried into a stall, her stall she realised. The very same stall to which she had been sent on that very first errand. Shit, that was only a week ago. The bewildered teen couldn't believe that so much had happened to her, been done to her, been forced upon her, in that one short week.

Her panties were down and off the moment the door closed, the dark patch in the crotch of the small red panties testament to her unbridled arousal. It was crazy that she wasn't allowed to come. And it was her fault. She needed to so badly she could almost taste the desire. And now she was going to make it worse. Every brief session without release made it harder and harder to bear. She already had trouble staying focused on her schoolwork, finding her mind drifting off into daydreams, X-rated wanderings. The only time she could keep it under control was when she had a task to perform, or was trying desperately to keep to her schedule. Even then it was a dull throb that sat in the background, like the heavy bass drum of some distant music.

Her panties hung from the door-hook, followed soon after by the dildo bag. She didn't have any time to waste, and now that she was this close, her smooth pussy bared, the cool, hard shaft of the dildo in her hand, she acted on instinct. She rested her head against the door, pushed her ass out behind her, flipping her skirt onto her back in the process, and slid the bumpy glass toy inside her.

The plump young pussy accepted the intruder, lips parting smoothly, the juices of her arousal allowing the dry shaft to slide along the slick length of her vagina without any resistance. Katie moaned as her cunt was filled. Her inhibitions were gone, driven back by her overwhelming desire. The humiliation that burned her young skin was still there but even that had been pushed into the background, now mere white noise to the desperate, insistent pounding of her arousal.

Wait! How long had she been in here already? What had just happened? She had lost all track of time. Shit, she panted, fearful now that she had been too long. She slipped the dildo from her pussy with a soft slurp and straightened up, aghast to realise that as her movements became fuelled by her rising passion, she had spread her legs wider and wider. They almost touched the edges of the stall now, splayed obsecenely wide. What would it have looked like from outside the stall? Anyone looking would have known, without a doubt, that she was not sitting on the toilet.

Katie quickly cleaned the dildo. Her humiliation rushed back in at full force as she removed the thick smears and dollops of her cream from the smooth glass ridges. She couldn't stop the tiny, barely audible moan that escaped her lips as she tasted her sex, instantly wondering how loud she had been only moments before. If she hadn't remembered spreading her legs, then...

She quickly replaced the saliva-slick toy into its trusty bag and slid her crumpled panties back up her legs. They really were small. She wasn't entirely sure they were the right size, barely covering the top of her slit. They were what Lauren had chosen though, and that was all that mattered. Panties on, dildo bagged. Katie smoothed down her skirt and checked her shirt. Her nipples were raging hard, but her bra hid most of the telltale stiffness. What would have been two large spikes, tenting the tight material of the shirt, were merely small bumps, still recognisable but only up close. Or so Katie told herself.

She could have kissed someone when she exited the stall to find the restroom empty. She was sure, as she thought more about it, that she had made noise, a not insubstantial amount of noise, as she thrust the dildo inside her. She still wasn't sure what had happened, knowing only that she had lost control, adrift in the depths of her desire. Her pussy was soaking wet, her small panties dampening with each passing moment, absorbing the liquid evidence of her arousal. Her lips had been dripping when she so abruptly ended the session. She hadn't thought to clean them as she was allowed and it was too late now.

Her face was flushed and her eyes still wide from the intense session when she came back to her owner. Lauren was seated in the same place, reading a textbook, not even watching her slave's return. Katie waited by the table for permission to sit, hoping that her lapse of concentration had not kept her too long. It was more than a minute before Lauren gave her leave to sit, not even looking up from her book.

"How's that pussy now Kitty?

"Um, very creamy Miss. My pussy is soaking my panties."

"Good girl."

Katie felt a rush of emotion at the words. The strange power Lauren's words had over her constantly caused the young girl consternation. She was actually flushing with pride at her owner's praise. Praise for what? For having a freakishly wet pussy? For creaming like a slut? She was ashamed that she felt pride at such a thing, at the praise itself but most of all at the fact that her body was like this.

What did she expect? For her pussy to be as dry as a desert? How could it be after what she had done? Been forced to do, she corrected, her shame dredging up the thoughts of her lack of consent, thoughts that were hidden deeper and deeper as time passed. it was getting harder to remind herself that this was not what she wanted, that she was being made to do these things, that normal people had choices.

The bell rang and Lauren immediately packed her bag. "Come Kitty," Lauren commanded leading the young girl to the back of the library, into the rows of shelves. Katie followed her owner obediently, stopping as Lauren did. Ancient Sumeria, she read on one of the extremely thick books beside her. They were back to where it had all begun.

Lauren leaned in and kissed the startled girl. The movement had come without warning but Katie's body responded instantly. Her lips parted to receive her owner's questing tongue. She reached for Lauren, wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. Lauren felt the delicious press of her slave's firm breasts against her own. This was only supposed to be quick, a small peck. The bell had rung, class waited. She forced herself back, pushing Katie's insistent body away.

"Cheeky little slut," Lauren said huskily, her own passion ignited.

She left her there, on the same spot they had shared their first kiss. Katie watched through eyes heavily-lidded from her passion, as Lauren swept down the aisle and was gone. She leaned against the shelf behind her, knees trembling and threatening to give way at any moment. Yes, she needed to get to class but that kiss... Her heart was pumping furiously, almost painfully. She had wanted to do that since the moment Lauren had entered the library, and now that she had, the war of emotions began afresh.

Thoughts of her slavery, of being a lesbian, of being a slut, of her outrageously creamy pussy warred with the undeniable pleasure she felt at Lauren's touch, at her very presence. How could she feel both things at once? She felt like she was being torn apart. Her next class passed as if in a dream. She could not even have said what subject it was. Her pussy throbbed, yearning to be filled, needing release. The young girl could not believe that desire could be this strong, that it could rule your thoughts so completely.

She sobered up as she entered the cafeteria for lunch. She headed to her usual table to sit with her usual friends but she found all seats were taken. Holly was sitting in her place. She looked at Katie with disdain as she hovered at the end of the table, lost and unsure what to do now.

"Sorry Katie, Holly's hanging with us now. There's um, sorry but there's not room for more."

At least Susan had the decency to sound ashamed. So that was how it was going to be. She had been summarily cast aside by the girls she had called friends for almost two years. How long had this been brewing? And why now? Did they know something about her?

Katie drifted away slowly, lost in her bewilderment. She found a seat at a table that was almost empty. Two girls from a lower grade sat together, talking and giggling, obviously the best of friends. Katie set down her salad and began to eat, not looking around, feeling alone amid the hubbub of the crowded room.

"Hey Katie."

"Hey Miranda," she replied, a little disappointed that it had not been Lauren but happy nonetheless for the company.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"You don't have to ask Miranda," Katie said, happy simply not to be alone.

"Thanks. I saw Gavin and a sidekick heading this way and I thought you might like someone to sit with. Especially after yesterday."

Katie almost choked on her salad. Miranda knew she hadn't been wearing panties yesterday. If she knew then who else did.  She rested her fork in her bowl and took a deep breath. It seemed the incident with his phone, instead of shutting him up, had made Gavin all the more eager to humiliate her.

"Sorry Katie, I mean, I didn't mean to upset you. He was saying some pretty nasty things about you yesterday is all. We kind of like some of the same things and sometimes we hang out but I don't like him or anything. And after what he said yesterday there's no way I will sit with him anymore."

Katie had forgotten that Miranda was a geek, liking science fiction and computer games and stuff. She was bound to know Gavin and his friends. What had he been saying though? She could guess but she needed to know exactly. She didn't want to know, she needed to.

"What kind of stuff?"

"Don't worry about it Katie. He's a real prick. Just don't worry about it."

"Please Miranda," Katie pleaded, trying not to sound too desperate but not sure if she succeeded.

"Well, he said, and this is only what he said and I'm only telling you because you said to. Well he said that you flashed him, um under your skirt during class and that you said that you would, um do stuff with him if he did some assignments for you. Gross I know."

Katie stared at her salad, horrified at what she was hearing. Gavin had taken the reality of her humiliating lapse of concentration and stupidly embellished it. Fucking stupid boy. But that was good for her right? No one would ever believe that, and if they thought part of his story was crap, they would think all of it was. But what would happen when her grades started to improve? And now at least one of his friends knew part of the story was true. What would that mean now?

"Sorry Katie but you asked. No one believed him. He's always so full of shit. He reckoned he was going to prove it. He is such a loser. They all teased him. And he got mad. He's such a boy."

Lauren had to know. She would approve of Miranda now surely. But it wasn't a matter of that, she had to prove she could behave well enough to be allowed it. But it couldn't hurt. She tried not to think too much more about Gavin and his friends as she ate her salad and listened to Miranda prattle happily. She would have to trust to Lauren to fix it. Lauren would fix everything, but she needed to show her owner that she was worth it. She needed to be on her best behaviour.

"Is that nice?" Miranda said, indicating the salad that Katie had almost finished.

"Yeah it's quite tasty," Katie admitted, something which even she was surprised by.

"How come you eat that now. I mean you don't usually. I mean not like I know, I mean I don't watch you or anything. You know it's just like everyone eats the school stuff."

"It's really healthy and it's good to be healthy."

"I know right," Miranda said, looking down at her own body, pudgy and soft.

"Oh Miranda, I didn't mean anything like that, really I didn't," Katie stammered, mortified that her new, potential friend, could possibly have thought she was commenting on her weight.

"It's ok Katie, I know. It's not like I don't know I'm fat."

"Miranda, you aren't fat, you're just..."

"Yeah," Miranda laughed, "just fat. Don't worry. I know I'm not that fat. I just don't kind of know what to do. What's in that by the way?"

Katie eagerly rattled off the ingredients of her salad, happy to have the subject changed. She talked with Miranda until the end of lunch, almost forgetting her troubles. The feel of her damp panties continuing to soak up her moisture never let her quite forget who she was and what was expected of her though, but the distraction of having someone to talk to about normal, everyday things had helped to calm her down and give her some perspective.

She walked and talked with Miranda until they parted ways at their lockers. Katie to head to her normal classes, Miranda off to her advanced science and math classes. Where, no doubt, she would run into Gavin and friends. She hoped she had found an ally in Miranda. She sure seemed that way, but even so, she could not really relax around her. What would she think if she knew what she truly was? It would be another friend lost, and this one, Katie thought, was something that would definitely be a loss.

*  *  *  *  *

Double economics. Insomniac's cure. It had always been something she abhorred and yet not having Gavin and co. there meant it was like a haven for the young girl. A boring haven, but one nonetheless.

Time passed glacially slow for Katie, but it gave her time to think. Over the course of lunch, such a short time, her life had shrunk, narrowed in a way she had never foreseen. She hadn't any friends, other than Lauren. They had discarded her like an old sock, replaced her with a newer, better model.

She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her fault, that the girls were just shallow and nasty but she had never had much of a talent for self-delusion. She knew it was her, had always been her. Now that she was owned, now that she had become a slut, her 'friends' wanted nothing more to do with her. They could tolerate her no longer. What did Lauren see in her? Did she really like her or was she just a possession, a toy, a pet. Katie was sure it was more than that. She could feel her vagina tingle as she thought of her owner: of how she made her laugh, how smart she was, how pretty, the wicked smile, the smooth, tight pussy.

Katie snapped herself back to the lesson, jotting down some notes from the board. She had started thinking so innocently, of how she could be friends with Lauren and how wonderful that would be. Her mind, her slut's mind, had quickly slid past the innocent musings, slipping as if on a layer of her thick, white cream straight into thoughts of a sexual nature.

Her pussy was oozing, she knew. She could feel the slimy moisture inside her, knowing what it was doing to her panties, her only line of defence. Her sex was uncontrollably wet, constantly drawing her mind back into herself, back between her legs, into the heat that pulsed there.

Was that her? Was it, or just some random scent from the classroom? Would her panties provide her with any protection from the strong scent she knew she produced. Her cheeks became rosy as she focused more and more on her body. She was quietly sniffing now. Lowering her head as inconspicuously as she could, trying to determine if her arousal was getting the better of her. She knew what she could do, memories of last week, that horrifying bus ride whirling through her mind. She had panties on now though. As if they were somehow magical proof against scent. Anxiety descended.

Katie began to sweat, each passing moment increasing her apprehension, deepening her surety that she was beginning to smell. The constant arousal, and that most recent, amazing session during study period, was taking its toll. Her panties were sodden, the wet material clinging to her smooth, plump lips.

She tried to remember what she had been thinking about before but she could not, her focus now entirely between her legs. She continued to copy the text from the board but was completely oblivious to the words from her teacher. Her thoughts were consumed by one thing. As the class-time passed, Katie began to feel her cream ooze from her pussy. She was sure of it. The tender pink folds of her cleft tingled as the river of cream flowed over them, making its way, inevitably, inexorably to the entrance, there to seep past her lips like some sexual silt.

The trembling schoolgirl imagined the red material of her panties darken as her discharge stained them a deeper, darker red. She imagined the incessant flow, soak her panties past what they could handle, each new pulse of her pussy, each fresh ooze, actually pushing through her panties. She closed her eyes in shame, regretting it instantly as the image of tiny white droplets of cream appearing on the outer surface of her panties became incredibly vivid.

She tried to tell herself she was being stupid but with each passing moment she could smell herself more clearly. She realised what she was doing but she could not stop. Mrs Osborne's monotonous drone was like a soporific for the reasoning centre of her brain. She was caught by her pussy, trapped in a quicksand of sexual imagery. Her need to come was so powerful that she shivered, her whole body shaking for a brief second.

Katie tried to regain control, tried to think of her classwork, think of the principals that she was supposed to be learning but all she could think of was other lessons: the training that Lauren had begun, the homework she had been set. She could feel the heat rise between her thighs as she thought of what she had seen last night, the beautiful pink pussies of those women being licked and sucked and lapped and...

Oh god, fucking seriously! Katie gripped the edges of her desk as her pussy clenched and spasmed. She opened her legs, trying anything to get the burning pressure in her pussy to dissipate. She could not be having an orgasm, in class, with no stimulation. She couldn't be. Her face was burning now, her heart beating so rapidly it hurt. She breathed in short ragged gasps, as quietly as she could. She tried anything to regain her composure. People must already be staring at her. They had to know what was happening. NO, Katie screamed at herself in defiance of her body. No, this will not happen. She didn't have permission.

The thought sobered her. She thought of Lauren, the disappointment that would cloud her owner's pretty face. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest but she was sure that it was passing. Her face still felt as if she was sitting to close to a fire but she could breathe now. She held her breath for just a second then let it out slowly and smoothly.

She hadn't come. Was that even possible? She doubted it but she did not want to find out. If that wasn't what it was then what was it? She was still feeling the effects, still short of breath and blazingly hot but her pussy seemed to have calmed down. There was that same electric tingling and the uncontrolled pulse as if her pussy was performing some strange peristalsis but whatever it was had passed.

As she came back to her senses, the anxious schoolgirl noticed her right leg was bouncing up and down: unconscious and uncontrolled. That was not what disturbed her. What made her close her eyes in horrified resignation was that her legs were spread, wider than they had any right to be. Not wide enough to be noticed, but she would never have consciously sat this way.

Katie rested her head on her hand and casually looked to her right. No one was looking at her. Everyone seemed to be in a trance, absently doodling in their pads or gazing at the walls, daydreaming. She had been doing the same but hers had brought her to the brink of discovery. She was such a slut that she had almost come from a daydream.

She was sure that wasn't it. She was adamant that it was not an orgasm. It wasn't. You couldn't come from nothing. She may be a slut, a classification she still was not comfortable with, though which she knew she could not deny, but not even a slut couldn’t do that. She would have to ask Lauren. She would have to tell Lauren, she corrected. This was something her owner needed to know.

What would she think? Lauren liked that she was a slut didn't she? She had said it was her nature, and when she called her a slut it was nice, like a term of affection, not something nasty. Would she be angry though? Disappointed that Katie couldn't control herself, couldn't control her owner's property. She knew she had to tell Lauren. Not doing so would be like lying. Friends didn't lie to each other, Katie told herself, though knowing the real reason: slaves did not lie to their owners.

Katie spent the rest of the lesson assiduously writing notes, successfully getting her thoughts back on track each time they drifted down. After what had just happened she knew she continued to cream. She knew what her pussy was doing as clearly as she was breathing. Her nipples were hard points beneath her clothes, and she said a quick prayer to her owner for allowing her a bra.

That extra layer almost kept those tiny projections of stiffened flesh from showing, almost. She glanced at her chest as she continued to write, knowing that the small bumps in her black shirt were visible. Even if her shirt had not been so tight, she knew they would still be showing. It wasn't as bad as it could be and if she tried hard, focused on the lesson, they might just go down by the time she had to move. She had been doing an expert job of shielding her chest, leaning over her desk, bringing her long, straight hair over her shoulder, but she knew that as soon as she stood up, her protection would be gone.

Katie looked at the clock on the wall. Less than five minutes until the end of class. And then what? She had to get home and after that? Her entire routine changed today, she had to work. The nervousness she had been avoiding all day rushed in now the gates were open. Her stomach fluttered with apprehension as she thought about what she would have to do. She still wasn't sure Mrs. Farrell didn't know what she was but Katie squashed that thought, knowing it to be pure paranoia.

What did working in the boutique really mean for her? Could she do it? Mrs. Farrell wouldn't have hired her if she didn't think so but Katie wasn't sure. What if she made a mistake? What if she lost sales because she suggested stupid things? She didn't want to go. She didn't want to have to work. She just wanted to go home and do her normal schedule. Even though it was difficult and demeaning she preferred it to the thought of the failure she could cause at work.

The bell rang, that familiar strident jangling cutting off any further self-doubt. Katie knew she needed to get to the bus but she packed her things slowly, wanting to wait to be the last out. She had a sinking feeling that she needed to verify and she needed to do it alone. She was lucky that everyone couldn't wait to get out of Mrs. Osborne's class. The stampede for the door suited her perfectly.

Once the last of her classmates was at the door, Katie stood up slowly and looked back at her seat. The hard, black plastic was smooth and unmarked. She had not left anything behind. Did that mean her skirt would not be marked either? Had her panties contained all her secretions. She desperately hoped this was the case, not really able to check the back of her skirt.

Her face was flushed from the very thought that her pussy had in some way marked her chair. Having it not be the case did little to make her feel any better. In the still air of the now empty classroom Katie smelt the scent of her arousal. Her panties could not keep it contained. They may have soaked the fluid itself but her aroma had escaped. It wasn't fair that she had to worry about this. She was sure that no other girl in school, no other girl in the history of the school, had ever had to worry about anyone smelling their sex.

She left the classroom still desperately wondering if she had stained her skirt, the perfume of her desire wafting about her like a miasma of sexual redolence. Why hadn't this ever happened before? She had sometimes smelt herself, yes. After an intense session of masturbation she had always opened her window. It had been part of her careful web of security she had woven around her sexual activity. She had always been so careful. Well until...

She had to get to the bus, she couldn't waste anymore time feeling sorry for herself. She hoped that in the bustle of the corridor no one would notice the strong scent she exuded. These were her thoughts now. Where she had worried about missing an episode of one of her favourite TV shows, now she worried about her classmates smelling her pussy, discovering the kind of slut she was. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be.

As the hurrying schoolgirl approached her locker a strange fear came over her. Was that Lauren? As she stepped hesitantly closer she saw that it was. Lauren was at her locker, but she wasn't waiting for her. She was talking to Miranda. Katie stopped then, in the middle of the hall. Her vision was constantly blocked by rushing young boys and girls, eager to be out of the school but she could clearly see they were talking. And laughing. Lauren said something and Miranda laughed. Katie watched, frozen, as Miranda giggled at Lauren's parting remark. Her owner moved out of her sight, stepping back into the press of bodies that rushed through the corridor. Katie finally found the courage to move and timidly approached Miranda.

"Oh hey Katie," her locker-mate beamed.

"Hey Miranda," Katie replied unsurely, desperate to know what had just transpired.

"So how was economics?"

"Um, good. Boring, you know Ozzy. How was, um..." Katie realised she had no idea what class Miranda had been in. Miranda seemed to know everything about her and she knew nothing in return. She wasn't much of a friend but she hadn't ever expected to be. She would need to pay more attention. Did Lauren's presence there, the easy joking they had shared, mean her owner approved?

"Advanced calc," Miranda finished for her, making Katie blush and shuffle her feet at the knowledge of her inadequacy. "You'd never guess in a million years a girl like Lauren Harper would take Ad-Calc would you. Beautiful, sporty and smart. Damn, makes you think."

"Yeah, she is beautiful," Katie replied wistfully.

"No I mean, one girl having everything."

"Yeah that's what I meant," Katie responded lamely, hiding her face in her locker. She could tell from the way Miranda was standing that the other girl was looking at her. Why did she have such trouble controlling her tongue?

"Well she's not rich, so I guess she doesn't have everything."

"I have to run Miranda, I can't miss the bus. I'm working tonight."

"Oh yeah, you must be excited. I'd love to work in a place like that but I'm not pretty enough. I know you'll be great. You'll have the clothes flying off the racks."

"Thanks," Katie smiled weakly, thankful for the faith Miranda had in her, knowing it was heartfelt. It helped her feel a little better but she was still fearful of the whole enterprise.

"Ok then let's go," Miranda said, shutting her locker and pulling Katie down the hall.

*  *  *  *  *

Katie leaned forward over her desk, the firm flesh of her breasts hanging pendant like soft fruit ripe for the plucking. She was checking Dressing Kitty to see which clothes Lauren had chosen for her first night at work. Her skirt and shirt were folded on her bed, but her panties dangled from her left hand. She had been overjoyed to discover no telltale stains on her skirt but her panties told the whole story.

She had known,even before she had peeled them from her slick sex, what she would find. She had pulled them down slowly, feeling the humiliation fill her as her panties clung to her mound, the material reluctant to part from the plump lips. It was almost as if the copious amounts of cream she produced had glued the tiny garment to her.

Katie looked down at the huge wet stain darkening the crotch, white discharge clumped in the centre, drying to an unsightly crust at the outer edges. She hoped for fresh panties, not wanting to look at the screen for fear of what she would find. She summoned up the courage and looked.

Four pictures of herself stared back, her nudity less disturbing than the shy, coquettish smile that she wore in every photo. If anyone had looked at these photos they would see a young girl, a slut, a playful display. That had not been the case when they had been taken but even Katie could not deny what she saw. She quickly focused on the clothes that her owner had chosen. Her black balconette bra, her heels, a peach-coloured summer dress, short sleeved and with a low looping neckline. The last picture was of her wearing the panties she had been allowed. They were her black lacey culottes, with the white floral trim. They were her prettiest panties and they always made her feel so sexy.

She had always felt the cute little split at the top of her buttocks, that tied back at the top, leaving a little oval of flesh visible at the top of her butt, made them the cutest thing she owned. No one before Lauren had ever seen her wear them but from the very first moment she tried them on and looked at herself in the mirror, seeing that pretty opening sitting just below the dimples in her back, she felt confident and alluring. She needed that confidence now.

She had already washed her face and reapplied the minimal makeup she was allowed and decided there was no point in waiting. She had wanted a shower, even a cold one would have been fantastic. But her instructions were clear. She looked between her legs, hunching over to see her pussy, quickly deciding she could not go to work like that. She didn't want to put her pretty, clean panties on with her sex in that state. Besides she had to do something about her panties. There was no way she was going to put them in the hamper like that.

Katie spread her panties in her left hand and quickly brought them up between her legs, knowing if she did not do it now she would lose the meagre courage she had. She spread the crotch of the small red garment with her fingers and quickly wiped between her legs, back to front, covering the entire length of her creamy cleft.

In the same motion, not daring to stop, she popped the sodden underwear into her mouth. Katie felt the familiar flush of heat rise into her face as she tasted her arousal. She could not take her eyes from the small webcam, knowing, as she suckled the sodden crotch of her panties, that doing so only deepened her humiliation. The fact that she needed to do this made her hate her own body. Why did she have to be such a slut? Why did she have to produce so much? She ran her tongue over her panties, doing her best to remove the traces of her cream. She had to do this. There was no way she could put her panties in the hamper, soaked and stinking of her cunt. The very thought of her mother seeing them, baulking in disgust at her daughter's discharge, was too much for her.

She couldn't spend too long cleaning her panties, she had a deadline, but she knew they weren't clean just yet. She couldn't wait any longer. Her sex now clean, or as clean as it would get without a shower, Katie hurried to her closet to begin getting dressed, the ends of her panties dangling from her mouth as she went.

She selected her bra and panties and put them on, suckling her panties without cease. She could still taste herself, despite the material now being soaked more with saliva than with any fluid from her pussy. Despite what she was doing, she still luxuriated in the feel of the thin culotte panties as she pulled them on, seating them snugly against her bare lips. She stepped into her shoes and was finally ready for her dress. Ready or not she would have to relinquish her panties now.

Katie took them out of her mouth by the dangling strands and inspected the crotch. The entire area was wet now, soaked through. But it was with the thin, clean saliva from her mouth, not the thick, slimy secretions from between her legs. It was an improvment, though they still clearly smelled, her suckling unable to remove the scent of her arousal. She quickly removed the bottom drawer of her desk and threw the panties in her hidey-hole. She would get them out when she came home, hopefully much drier by then.

She got her peach sundress from her cupboard and slipped it on over her head. It was a lovely dress, one of her favourites. It was cut a little low across the chest but nothing too bad, nothing worse than any of her singlets. It hung halfway to her knees without the belt, once she had that cinched tightly around her waist, the hem raised a good two inches. The material of the dress was slightly stiff so it would hold its shape but at least she would not have to worry about it blowing up in the wind.

Katie looked at herself projected on her monitor by the webcam. She was cute, no doubting that. And Lauren seemed to know just how to dress her to bring out the best from her body. Katie even had to admit that her new hairstyle, which she still was not entirely used to, made her prettier. She hadn't been told how to wear her hair so she simply left it down, the long, perfectly straight locks cascading over her shoulders.

She was dressed. Was there anything else to do? Her purse. She had to take a purse with her to hold the money she would need for the bus. Don't, she chided. Don't do that. She was lying to herself and doing so benefited no one. Her purse wasn't to hold money, it would contain only one thing: her dildo. It seemed as if she wasn't allowed to leave home without it. Lauren had given her exactly 75 cents for the bus and she would carry nothing else.

Katie grabbed the small black purse, her dildo in its felt bag from its hiding place and her 75 cents. This was it. Once she was out of the house now, she would not be able to get back in. She had not been allowed keys or her phone. She had enough money to travel to work and there she would stay until her father picked her up at 9:20.

As she headed out of the house, one last forlorn look inside, Katie felt vulnerable. She was going to work for a lady she didn't know, catching a bus by herself, carrying nothing but a sextoy. She wished with all her heart that Lauren was here now. The front door shut behind her, the click of the lock an ominous sound that filled her with dread.

There was nothing to be done now, except for what she had been told. The anxious schoolgirl walked briskly to the bus stop, dildo-filled purse clenched tightly in one hand, her bus fare in the other. It was a discomforting feeling, knowing that if anything went wrong, if she dropped her money and it rolled down a drain, she had no backup whatsoever. She would not doubt be punished for losing the money, but what would be worse was that she would not make it to work, or at the very least be late.

Katie wished, with every single step she took, that she had not been forced to bring her dildo with her. It brought her great pleasure, that was neither here nor there, it was the humiliation that it brought, that intense, gut-twisting humiliation that its mere presence conjured within the young girl, that made her wish she had never bought it.

She was not in her exercise gear today, but she met some of the same people out for their afternoon expeditions. Some were walking , others jogging, all looked at the cute teenager, dressed so prettily. Her cheeks were flushed a dainty pink, that only heightened her look of naivety and innocence. Katie knew she looked pretty, the eyes that swept hungrily across her young body let her know that others thought so too, but the young girl had no idea how alluring she truly was: the confidence and muted sexual swagger imparted by her carefully chosen outfit warred with her feelings of vulnerability and humiliation to create an image of mesmerising beauty, so much more than the mere sum of its parts.

She had no way to tell the time but felt sure she had made it to the bus stop in good time. She hadn't missed her bus, of that she was sure but she had no idea how long she had to wait. If she had timed it right it would only be a minute or two.

Katie felt strange thinking so, but she hadn't been given permission to sit so she stood next to the bus stop and waited patiently. This time she was aware that she had moved to stand at attention. It had not been a conscious move exactly, but she had known she what she was doing. She couldn't bear to have her dildo behind her though, too afraid it could be snatched from her so she made a small concession, holding her hands demurely before her while her legs had widened until they were shoulder-width apart.

She studiously avoided looking at any and all passersby, choosing instead to stare at the road, eager to be ready the moment the bus arrived. She heard a movement behind her and she turned, startled, to see a middle-aged man take a seat at the bus. He smiled at her pleasantly. Katie returned the unspoken greeting out of politeness, her demure smile only enhancing her alluring air of sexual innocence.

"Been waiting long?"

"No Sir," Katie replied timidly, wanting to turn back to the road but not wanting to be rude.

"Waiting for the 312?"

"Yes Sir," the anxious schoolgirl replied, desperately hoping the conversation would end.

"Good, I thought I might have missed it."

Without further input, Katie turned back to her vigil. She could feel the man staring at her, his eyes boring holes in her soft young body. She knew he was undressing her in his mind, her pretty dress by now in tatters on the sidewalk, her bra following, breasts bouncing free as the confining garment was thrown to the cement. She was left standing in her panties and heels, her purse still clutched tightly in her hand.

The bus rounded the corner like a huge metal saviour. She had never been more grateful in her life to see anything. She knew she was being stupid, knew it had all been in her mind, her twisted slut mind. But it had felt almost real. She had almost been able to feel the gentle breeze caressing her bare skin. She was doing herself no favours with these kinds of thoughts. She was making herself crazy for no reason. Well not, no reason. She was sure the man had been looking at her and in a sexual way. What did she expect? The moment the bus stopped she had wanted to scramble aboard. Instead she stepped obediently aside and allowed the waiting man to board first. She wasn't entirely sure why she did so, it had just felt right.

"Pretty and polite," he smiled as he stepped past her and paid his fare.

Katie blushed, wondering what the hell for. Couldn't she even take a compliment? He was only being nice. She hurried aboard, deposited her fare in the box and looked down the bus for a seat. She never really caught public buses, and especially not at this time of day. Was it always this crowded?

There were only two seats left: one next to a particularly obese woman and the other next to a young man of college age. There was no way she could fit on the tiny sliver of seat next to the woman and the guy had a backpack on the seat next to him, clearly not wanting to part with that little extra piece of space.

It wasn't that far to the mall, she could stand. She looked down the bus one more time and noticed that the young guy had moved his bag and was smiling at her. She couldn't refuse the offer of a seat, it would only draw attention, something she definitely did not need more of. She made her way towards the back of the bus and gently sat down on the plastic seat, careful to keep her purse hidden in her hands as much as possible.

The ride was thankfully a silent one, though Katie knew she had not ceased to be the object of scrutiny. The man, handsome in a jock sort of way, did his best to make his as discrete as he could but the young girl noticed the way he shifted his body to provide him with a better view of her cleavage. There wasn't anything she could do. Her breasts were on display and that was that.

It was a short trip, six stops and they had reached the mall, the destination for the majority of the passengers it seemed. Katie wasted no time in escaping the claustrophobic interior. She had felt like a captive on the bus, unable to hide, her young body open for the viewing pleasure of all who paid to ride, as if she was some special attraction that came with the price of a fare.

As she scurried to the store where she would work for the next five hours, she revelled in the fresh air and the wide open spaces of the mall. She had never before thought she was claustrophobic, but maybe she was, just a little bit. Or maybe she was just a huge fucking wuss, with an overactive imagination. Both were equally as likely but she hadn't liked where the last thought had come from.

"Hello Mrs. Farrell."

"Ah Katie, what a sight you are. That dress looks just stunning on you. We'd better get started while it's a little slower. It will start to pick up any minute now. Is that all you have?"

"Yes Ma'am," Katie replied, as Mrs Farrell indicated the tiny purse she carried.

"Travel with just the essentials hey?" Jean joked as she led Katie towards the back of the store.

"Yes Ma'am," the young girl replied, not joining in on the joke. Katie blushed furiously at the inadvertently perceptive comment. She knew there was nothing meant by it but that didn't change how disturbed it made her feel.

"You can pop that in here," Jean said, opening a draw in the desk at the back of the shop. "Now, you know a little about the store and what we sell but first thing is to train you on stock. Best way I have found to do that is to have new girls put the stock on the racks. So this is new stock, and these are clothes that have been tried on but need to be put back in place. Once you've done that come and see me."

"Yes Ma'am."

"You don't need to call me that, Katie. Jean is fine," she said smiling.

"Um Mrs Farrell, I like to be respectful so could I please call you Ma'am," the anxious young girl said, worried that Jean would say no and she would be left with a dilemma she didn't know how to rectify. She couldn't disobey Lauren, but she couldn't make Mrs. Farrell mad.

"Well ok, Katie. It does have kind a ring to it," Jean said laughingly as she headed back out into the store.

Katie breathed a sigh of relief as she was left alone with the piles of clothing that needed to be sorted and displayed. She did her best, unfolding each item and placing it on the shelves or racks of the store. It was slow going at first and she felt as if she was useless, sure she was taking too long. Mrs. Farrell ignored her as she worked, serving customers or reading a magazine as Katie slowly completed her task.

It felt strange to be working away while Mrs. Farrell read a magazine during those times there were no customers in the store. It made Katie feel her submission keenly, reminding her that by even being here she was serving her owner. Right now Mrs. Farrell, as her employer, was kind of like a proxy owner for the young girl. Katie knew she wasn't, but she had to obey Mrs. Farrell and do what she could to please her and that made her feel as submissive as if it was Lauren herself instructing her. She had to admit that by doing the task by herself, with no input past the initial command, she had gained a knowledge of the store and the clothing she was to sell, that was near comprehensive. She didn't yet know every blouse or skirt or pair of jeans but she was close.

"I have finished putting the clothes out Ma'am," Katie announced once Mrs. Farrell had finished with a customer. She hadn't known quite what to do when she had finished, as couldn't interrupt the sale. She had chosen to stand at attention by the counter and wait patiently. She had watched Mrs. Farrell place the sale, eager to learn as much as she could, knowing that soon she would be doing all of these things. She couldn't get away with just rearranging stock all night.

"You were watching Katie? Good. You haven't used a register before? It's pretty easy. It basically does everything for you. Just scan, take the money, the register works out the change and voila. Sale made. Don't worry, I'll take you through your first one."

Katie smiled weakly, yeah easy. The next twenty minutes was a whirlwind of on-the-job training, familiarising the young girl with the nuances of retail sale. She learned how to steer customers towards items they would never have considered. She learned how to build someone's confidence while staying decidedly neutral and she learned when to push and when to pull back. Most of all she learned that she wasn't ready for this.

As people started to trickle into the store in ones and twos Katie was put on the spot. It was now or never and never was not an option. Her apprehension grew, twisting her belly into amazingly tight knots. She licked her lips, and swallowed, her mouth dry.

The next forty minutes was a whirl as she served a steady stream of customers. Despite the sales she made and the success she had, she could not push aside the feeling that she wasn't good enough. She was just a young girl, what did she know about this kind of stuff? What right did she have, a possession, to tell other people what to wear. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't really telling them, she was just suggesting and she was always truthful, trying hard to find exactly what they wanted, something that would suit them, flatter them. After the first blouse that she sold, Mrs. Farrell left her to her own devices. Her confidence grew a little each time she spoke to a customer, a tiny thrill tingling inside her with each sale made.

"I catch you looking at her tits again and you'll need to learn how to suck your own cock."

Katie blushed furiously at the overheard comment. She knew who was speaking: a pretty young girl she had noticed looking through the jeans. She knew who she was speaking to: her boyfriend, the handsome guy who had looked bored until he spotted Katie. She had felt his hungry, predatory eyes and she had done her best to busy herself so she did not have to serve this particular couple. She sidled slowly away, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as she could.

So she hadn't gone unnoticed, despite her efforts at avoidance. She supposed it was something she was going to have to get used to. She was here to serve customers and make money for Mrs. Farrell. It wasn't her choice who to serve, so it was no different to anything else, she mused, trying to make light of the despair that she felt.

Her attention was caught by Mrs. Farrell, heading out into the back room. What was she going back there for? What the fuck business was it of hers? Katie tried to shake the feeling and focus on the store but... what if Mrs. Farrell wanted something from the drawer? What if she had to move her purse? What if she looked inside?

Katie's heart began to race. It was all she could do not to go rushing into the back room and check exactly what was going on. She gripped the belts she was supposed to be replacing on the racks, clinging to something solid, something that would remind her of her duty.

"Katie?" The young girl jumped, startled by the voice that appeared out of nowhere. "Fetch me a coffee, long black. But not from the place across the way, I'll only drink Mon Cheri coffee. You know where that is?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Off you go then."

Katie accepted the money Mrs. Farrell offered and hurried out of the store. Mon Cheri was almost at the other end of the mall and the long walk gave the alarmed schoolgirl a chance to think about what she had just felt. She didn't want to, but she could not help herself. A tingling thrill had tickled up her spine when Mrs. Farrell had ordered to get coffee. She didn't know what it was but it was not the first time she had experienced the strange sensation. Often when she was with Lauren she had felt the same thing, the same sharp series of tiny shocks slipping along her nervous system. She didn't want to know what it was, she really didn't, but her brain would not cooperate. It never lasted long, only ever a second or two but it always made her nervous, though it didn't feel bad. Maybe that was what made her nervous. It was something she could not explain, something that felt good but she had a strange feeling she should not enjoy.

She was never out at this time of night and she was a little amazed at how many people were in the mall. So many people shopping, so many people looking at her. Katie had a sudden, sickening feeling that her dress was caught up at the back, exposing her ass and the pretty panties that she wore. She hurriedly smoothed the material over the tight curves of her buttocks - nothing. Did she have something on her face? Was her hair sticking up? Her nipples were not hard, thank god. Try as she might, to ignore the looks that were coming her way, she could not help but glance back, just for a second. There wasn't anything wrong with her she soon realised. It was just that she was a pretty young girl, wearing a cute dress that highlighted her youthful curves. What she knew they were really looking at though, was the way she moved. She knew that her body moved differently now. She knew that when people looked at her they saw a slut.

"One long black please."

The girl behind the counter looked at her a little strangely but took her money and her name and told her to wait. Katie stepped to one side and waited obediently. She wasn't even surprised when, a few moments later, she realised she was standing at attention. Her first thought was to move, to put her legs together and stand a little more casually. But she did not move. What point was there in fighting it? This was what, the fifth, sixth, time she had caught herself standing this way unconsciously.

"Kitty."

Katie stepped forward. This time she was surprised. She had given her name as Kitty without even thinking. She took the coffee and hurried away, sure the serving girl was still looking at her strangely. She knew the look of dazed amazement that was on her face when she had accepted the coffee would have made anyone think twice. It seemed that she had fallen further than she had ever thought. She no longer had any control over most of her life, not what she wore or where she went, what she ate or when she used the bathroom, and now it seemed she didn't even have any control over her own thoughts. Even if there was some part of her that thought, no that knew, this was wrong it was clearly dwindling, fading further each day.

"Your coffee Ma'am," said Katie demurely, the cup in one outstretched hand, the change in the other.

"Wow, Katie did you run or something?"

"No Ma'am. I just, um I just didn't want to keep you waiting."

"Well good girl. When it is a little quiet like this, you check the dressing rooms for any garments left behind and put them back on display. Then you check merchandise around the store, making sure it is neat and tidy and ordered: sizes ranging from small to large."

"Yes Ma'am."

Katie hurried to the back of the store and checked the dressing rooms as she had been told. There was only one blouse left behind and she retrieved it and a fresh hanger and placed it back in its place. Mrs. Farrell was sipping her coffee and reading her magazine as Katie worked, systematically organising all the garments in size order, refolding anything that had been touched and generally tidying up. When customers came in, three young women in their 20s, she left her tidying and went to serve. Mrs. Farrell looked up from her magazine but her attention quickly returned to the page open before her.

"Hello, may I help you with anything?"

"Just looking sweets," said the tall blond girl at the front of the trio.

"If I can do anything for you just let me know," Katie replied sweetly before turning back to her duties, the dainty movement causing her hair and her dress to flair out behind her.

"I got something you can do," she heard one of the girls whisper.

"Brooke!"

"What? Tender little morsel..."

Katie didn't hear any more of the hushed, giggly conversation but her cheeks blazed with an inner heat that was almost painful. Her blood rushed through her veins, each powerful pulse of her heartbeat seemed to be sending the humiliation around her body, until she was consumed by it. She continued to tidy without conscious thought, her world clouded by a thick fog that seemed to dull all her senses, all but one. Her sense of shame shone through like a beacon in the night.

She was being treated as if she was part of the merchandise in a shop. A shop where pretty sluts were on display for all to see and enjoy. Men and women, young and old, everyone seemed to recognise what she was. There was no escape, there would be no respite, until she got home, back to her own room, where the only one who could see her was her owner.

Katie was thankful when the girls left the store without needing her help. She didn't know how she would have been able to deal with talking to them after what she had heard. Her cheeks were still a little pink, even now many minutes after the incident. When she passed the counter with a few empty hangers for the back room, she quickly glanced at the dainty watch worn by Mrs. Farrell. The owner of the store was engrossed in her magazine, and her arm was still, resting on the counter.

It was 7:30 already. The busy schoolgirl could not believe that time had passed so quickly. She had barely had a spare moment to think all night so she guessed that was why she hadn't really noticed the passage of time. Katie popped the hangers out the back and returned to the store, a rigorous internal debate raging now she knew the time. She really needed to go to the toilet. Lauren had allowed her one toilet break per shift and she had been trying to hold it in for as long as she could, but she hadn't realised how late it had become. She wanted to go now, when there was a little lull, but she didn't want to disturb Mrs. Farrell. The owner of the store seemed really involved in her reading and she didn't want to bother her. She should wait until Mrs. Farrell was finished, but what if then she was busy with customers too and she lost her chance?

"Excuse me Ma'am?" Katie asked hesitantly, still doubting her choice.

"Hmmm?" replied the distracted woman.

"May I go to the toilet please Ma'am," the anxious schoolgirl asked, the nervous fluttering in her belly, sparking a new round of the strange prickling sensation that rolled up and down her spine.

"Oh, of course my dear," she said, looking at the young girl inquisitively.

"Thank you Ma'am," Katie stammered, wasting no time in leaving the store.

She walked as fast as she could to the restrooms, which thankfully were not far away. Lauren had specified that she was to use the third stall from the door. That was her stall now and she breathed a sigh of relief that it was unoccupied. She was in and out in under a minute, needing to go so badly working in her favour. She checked her makeup in the mirror as she washed her hands, happy to see that, for once, her cheeks were a normal colour. She was beginning to think they would turn a permanent shade of pink.

"Katie that was… Did you run?"

"No Ma'am, I just... I just didn't dawdle. I really like working here."

"You can take breaks you know. I'm not an ogre."

"I know Ma'am, I just want to-"

"You're wanted Katie," said Mrs Farrell with a casual flick of the finger.

Katie turned to see a guy in his mid-20s come into the store. He looked vaguely familiar, but the young girl soon decided he just had one of those handsome faces that looked like so many others: square jaw with just a little growth, strong, straight nose, toned, though not overly muscular body. She approached timidly, as if she was a tiny rabbit offering itself to a coyote on the prowl.

"Hello, can I help you with anything?"

"Uh sure. I'm just looking for a new pair of jeans."

The interaction began as innocently as any other, but by the time he left the store, Brandon, she had quickly learned, had purchased not only his jeans, but also two t-shirts and three long-sleeve button-up shirts. Everything Katie had suggested, he had tried on. Every time he emerged from the dressing room and she complimented a garment, it seemed to get added to his list of items he must have. She knew maybe she shouldn't have fussed over him, straightening his shirts, fixing the hem of his jeans, but he was nice and funny and he talked to her like a normal girl. She caught Mrs .Farrell's eye as he left the store, her raised eyebrows making her blush yet again.

"Good work Katie. I see you don't need any lessons in upselling. I think we will see that young man again. Retail is so much about repeat business and word of mouth. I think you did a great job there of securing us a bit of both. You keep that up and I might just need you to take a few more shifts."

Katie smiled at the praise. She had been expecting a rebuke, for taking too much time on one customer or for being inappropriate. Mrs. Farrell liked what she had done and she would be sure tell Lauren. The thought made her gush with pride. Her shift wasn't over though. She needed to work hard until the last minute, she knew that slacking was unacceptable. This was Mrs. Farrell's business and she could not afford to have girls who didn't work their hardest.

"Katie at around this time of night you can start a few little housecleaning tasks. Each mirror needs to be cleaned, the cleaner and cloth is in a cupboard out back. Once that is done, make sure that all the hangers are stacked by type and size and make sure the counter is fully stocked with bags and there is a full complement of flyers out front too."

"Yes Ma'am, Katie replied, scurrying out to the back room to comply.

There was so much to do in a store, she had never known. Admittedly she had no real idea but she had thought she would just stand around until customers came in to serve. She was kind of glad that wasn't the case. She didn't know how she would have dealt with the quiet times, just standing around. She was so dumb, as if you got paid to just stand around. Each time Katie noticed a customer she quickly switched from her cleaning tasks to serve. She really like serving customers. She got a little down when they didn't purchase anything, but she knew it wasn't her. Not everyone had to buy something but when they did it was like the icing on the cake.

"It's almost nine Katie. When is your ride coming?"

"Um, 9:20 Ma'am."

"Excellent. You can get the shutters ready now. There’s a little stick out the back that helps you reach. The little hook goes in the slot in the middle. Just pull them down a little now. We do that just to let people know we're preparing to close. At nine you can pull them all the way down.

"Once they're down I'll count the takings and you will sweep the floor. There's a broom and a dustpan and brush. I don't want to see any piles swept into corners or under displays though."

"No Ma'am," Katie replied eager to let Mrs. Farrell know she would never do that. Well if she was honest, the Katie Thomas of two weeks ago may very well have done that, but the girl who was Lauren's property never would. The thought had not even entered her brain.

Katie retrieved the small pole that Mrs. Farrell had mentioned and went to pull the shutters down. The pole was only two feet long, the metal cool in her hands. It was tipped by a small metal hook, the holes which she had quickly spotted in the runners at the top of the door. She stretched up with the pole and fell well short. How was she supposed to reach it?

Mrs. Farrell was much taller than her and obviously had no problems. She couldn't go and annoy her now, she needed to do this on her own. She couldn't have her boss thinking she couldn't do things other girls could. She might think she was wasting her time with her.

Katie stood, feet together, directly under the hole she could see and stretched as high as she could. The hook just touched the metal runner, the soft metallic clink sparking a small note of triumph within her. But she couldn't quite keep the hook still enough to get it in the hole. She was holding the rod at the absolute tip, trying to squeeze out as much length as she could.

The anxious young girl glanced to her front when she heard a strange, muted whispering sound. The two guys from the donut stand in the middle of the mall were standing at their counter, staring at her. Even when she looked at them, they only made a half-hearted attempt to look busy, their gaze constantly flickering back to the stretched schoolgirl.

Katie lowered the pole, realising, too late, what was happening. The strain she had put on her body by stretching up so high had caused her dress to ride up. She wasn't sure how much, but from the admiring looks on their faces, it had been enough. She flushed with the humiliation, knowing as she took a step back into the store, that she would find no solace there.

She needed to get those shutters down. It had to be almost nine o'clock now. Had they seen her panties? Had she actually flashed her pussy? Surely her dress would not have raised that much, she hoped it had just been a little extra thigh than decorum permitted. She would need to test it out in the mirror when she got home. She couldn't not know. It would eat away at her.

Katie stepped back to the doorway, her jaw set, determined to succeed this time. She knew the consequences of her actions but she had no choice. She didn't want to humiliate herself, but she couldn't lose this chance at a job. Lauren had set it up for her and she could not disappoint her owner. She spared a glance for the donut stand and could tell, by the furtive way the two guys were wiping down the same section of counter, that her audience had not disappeared. She took a deep breath, located the hole in the shutter and reached up, swiftly and surely. Her fist attempt missed, the hook sliding along the runner. Katie winced at her failure, conscious now of the cool air against her thighs.

As the smooth flesh of her legs cooled in their exposure, her face boiled with shame. She had to try again. She had to reach higher, and with the extra effort, her dress would rise higher. She heard the scuff of a shoe behind her and she paniced, stretching with everything she had, rising out of her shoes and onto her tiptoes. She watched with unimaginable relief as the hook slid into the small hole and she was able to pull the shutter down out of its slot.

She knew it was late now, the other shops already had their shutters lowered halfway or further, the clear sign that business was over. Katie pulled the shutter down noisily, until it was just two feet from the floor. It was definitely after nine now and she needed to sweep up an do a quick final clean before she was collected. She had to be out the front waiting for her dad by 9:20.

It was only a small store. It couldn't take that long to sweep surely. How ignorant she was soon became apparent to the tired schoolgirl. There was so many little nooks and crannies around the displays and racks that it would take her much longer than she thought. She quickly picked up her pace, systematically sweeping small piles of dirt into the aisles. She decided it was best to sweep everything and then come through with the dustpan.

She didn't know just how much time she had, so she worked fast. Despite the cool air of the mall, she was hot by the time she had finished sweeping, the dustpan full of all manner of dirt and objects. She had never imagined a floor could get so dirty in one day. She emptied out the pan and made one last quick scout around, eager to impress but found nothing.

"Excuse me Ma'am, I have finished sweeping," Katie announced.

"Aren't you a doll. Well how did you find it?"

"It was really good. I really enjoyed it. I didn't think it would be so much work," Katie said, cringing as she realised how that sounded. "I mean that of course it's a lot of work, I mean there's so much to do and it was great Ma'am, I really enjoyed all of it and I really liked being busy."

"I know what you mean Katie. There's a lot to think about. We had a really good night tonight. It was a little slow but conversion was really great. Will I see you Thursday?"

"Yes please Ma'am," Katie said, relieved that her stupidity had not cost her the job. She was so dumb. Her mouth was going to get her into trouble if she didn't start thinking more. Lauren had said, more than once, that she wouldn't tolerate a dumb slave.

"You had better scoot. It's almost twenty past."

"Thank you Ma'am. I really appreciate the opportunity."

Katie looked longingly at the drawer in the desk at which Mrs. Farrell sat counting the receipts of the day's takings. Her purse was still in the desk. She could not leave without it, but there was money all over the desk and Mrs. Farrell was busy counting. But time was running out, she needed to go.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but could I have my purse please," Katie said timidly, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"What, oh sure," replied Mrs. Farrell, somewhat distracted. Katie watched in horror as the seated woman opened the drawer, reached in and withdrew her small purse, empty but for her dildo. There was no way that anyone picking up that tiny bag could fail to realise what was in it. The purse conformed to the shape of the hard, ridged shaft of the glass toy.

The terrified schoolgirl felt as if her face would melt as she took the offered purse. Mrs. Farrell looked at her, but the mortified young girl could not read her expression. Did she need to? It was obvious what the woman was thinking: slut. Would she even want her working now? If she said nothing, she would have to assume she could still come to work on Thursday.

Katie walked slowly out of the store, tensed to hear Mrs. Farrell call her back and tell her not to bother. She felt like a prisoner condemned but she had made it to the door with nothing, she slipped up the shutters and stepped out, still nothing. She slid them down again, this time all the way to the ground. It was as if a huge weight had been suddenly lifted from her. She rolled her shoulders, working out the stress as she hurried to the carpark. She still had a job, Lauren wouldn't be mad. She could rest easy tonight, knowing she had done a good job and been a good girl.

*  *  *  *  *

She was a strange one, no doubting that, Mrs. Farrell mused. But sweet, incredibly sweet. She hadn't seen any signs of the focusing problems that Lauren had warned her about, but she had kept her busy, and kept the chat to a minimum. It was still hard to believe that such a sweet thing had behavioural problems. Everything else Lauren said checked out: once given a task she did her best to complete it, she was eager to please and respectful.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about being called 'Ma'am' though. Part of her felt old, but another part liked the term of respect. She was a successful businesswoman, building the store from scratch, she deserved to feel this way. Besides, it was nice to see the youth with some respect. Lauren was one of the only girls she knew who acted properly. With Katie under her wing, she would be sure to beat the problems the young girl was having in school.

She was only glad she could help out. She didn't know the Thomas family. She didn't mind helping out if they were struggling a little. If tonight was anything to go by it certainly wouldn't be charity. The girl worked hard, but she also had a talent for selling. It didn't hurt that she was cute as a button and didn't mind using that to her advantage. It was strange how nervous and reserved she was, and yet how sensuously she moved, how infused she was with the precocious sexual energy that only teenage girls could muster.  It was an amazing mix to see in someone so young.

Jean finished counting the receipts; best Tuesday in a long time. She would look forward to Thursday. If the girl could repeat what she had done tonight, then there would be a lot more work coming her way.

*  *  *  *  *

Her panties were still soaked. She had remembered them in the middle of writing her blog and could not wait until she had finished to attend to them. She couldn't put them in the hamper like they were. The only thing she could think of was to hang the wet underwear from her bedpost, hoping they would dry enough overnight. She popped the panties over the post nearest her desk and made a note to remember to collect them in the morning. She never again wanted to feel that debilitating panic she had felt that day, when she realised she had left her vibrator on display.

She hadn't spoken to Lauren tonight. Redvelvetlines was still watching her cam but she had no way of knowing if her owner was actually there. The first thing she had done when she returned home was to hurry to the bathroom and check her dress. She needed to know what she had shown, how much of her body had been on display when she tried to close the shutters.

Panties no, everything else, yes. When she stretched as much as she could her dress rose to expose her entire expanse of milky white thigh, stopping just short of allowing anyone to see the pretty panties she wore. It was enough. She flushed at the remembered humiliation, angry that she wasn't even safe when she was alone. At least she would not get into trouble for showing anyone her owner's property. She didn't know if it panties counted, she would have to ask.

She had quickly showered, run shivering back to her room, and sat down to write her blog. She poured her heart out on to the screen, letting all her thoughts about her first night of work flow through her fingers. She had to remind herself to spread her legs, it wasn't quite second nature to her yet.

She glanced at her pussy often as she wrote, still enamored of the smooth, plump lips of her sex completely open to view since her waxing. She hadn't liked it when it happened and even for a day afterward she had lamented the loss of her thick bush of tight black curls but she had since come to enjoy the look and feel of her pussy, clean and bare, the way her owner wanted.

One thing she was still not used to was the wetness she produced, almost non-stop. She found it distracting and embarrassing, knowing it only reinforced the certainty that she was a slut. She wished she didn't produce so much, the constant discharge caused her no end of problems, whether she was wearing panties or not. The strong scent that came with her secretions was manageable as long as she was allowed to keep it at least a little under control. Panties helped, her short, cold showers helped but the constant attention she was forced to give to her pussy did not.

Dildo days were worse. Clit days deepened her frustration until it became an almost physical force pressing upon her but the days she was scheduled for dildo-play made her so much wetter. Her cream literally dripped from her cunt in an almost inexhaustible flow. She knew Lauren liked the way she was but there were times, when her sodden panties slipped against her lips, or when she felt her slick labia touch a surface, that she just wanted to be normal.

She didn't have anything else to do tonight. After work was simply shower and blog. She had no homework and she was not required to play with herself. It was later than she was normally allowed to go to bed but she didn't feel tired. She wanted to talk to Lauren, to tell her everything about her day and especially about her work, how well it had gone.

Katie lay awake for a long time, thinking about Lauren, about what she had done while Katie had worked. She wondered if Lauren was in bed now too? What was she wearing? She knew she shouldn't be thinking such things. She should be focusing on the next day, her schoolwork and her schedule, but her thoughts continued to return to her owner, as if she was caught in an endless loop - no matter which way she turned the result would be the same. She finally drifted off to sleep, images of Lauren sleeping peacefully on infinite playback in her mind.