A Slave To Politics
Part 3
by SpeechMasterOne
The warm breeze of the early summer morning blew across the road as Brittany
again started driving. I shivered in my seat as my thoughts spun out of control.
I could barely see as the tears clouded my vision. Minute upon minute passed,
yet my heart kept beating as fast as it could to keep up with my sexual
excitement.
Finally, my arousal finally started to recede to a manageable level as Brittany
pulled into a mall parking lot. Activity was brisk as the lot was quickly
filling with morning shoppers. With my skirt hiked up, I was terrified that
someone would see my soaking wet pussy.
I never shopped here before, though I heard of this mall. We were a good 40
minutes outside of the city, A place where I normally would not be caught dead
shopping. I felt comforted a bit by the precautions Brittany took.
"We are going inside so that you can buy yourself new outfits," Brittany
commanded. "Don't worry, slut, we will keep you relatively respectable during
work hours. But we need more appropriate outfits for you so that I can dress my
toy as I wish. Now remember the rules. I am sure you don't want to give me a
reason to spank your bare ass in the middle of a crowded mall" Brittany slowly
moved her finger to touch my red and puffy sex. Just the slightest touch caused
me to jerk. Brittany ran her finger down the moist lips, then slowly dipped her
finger into the sopping wet folds. Everything was so hypersensitive that I
thought that I would literally explode. I had no idea that I could ever get this
horny. My large clit stood out erect, yearning for even a single blissful
stroke. She toyed with me until she spotted the signs of an impending orgasm,
then abruptly stopped. She brought her wet finger to my mouth in an obvious
offering. I was about to suck the finger into my mouth when I remembered to ask
permission.
"Please allow me to suck my juice off of your finger, Miss Brittany," I begged
in a breathy voice. She smiled and allowed me to move my lips forward. The act
of licking and sucking her finger, covered with my lustful juices, hammered away
at my self esteem. Even though my brain said this was wrong, wrong, wrong, my
body was in absolute control and demanded that I obey in the hopes of achieving
some end to my tortured excitement.
"Good slut," she cooed as she pet my head with her free hand. For some reason,
at that moment, I felt very proud that I had earned her praise. She bent me
forward in my seat and released my wrists from the cuffs. I wanted to thrust my
fingers into my slit, but I was so scared of angering Brittany that I kept my
hands away. I felt week as stepped out of the car.
We walked together, her arm around my waist. With the unfamiliar heels, butt
plug and pent up sexual excitement I was unsteady in my gate. As we approached
other shoppers moving towards the entrance, I realized how vulnerable and nearly
naked I was. The light breeze blew between my legs and on my soaking wet, bald
crotch. Several times short gusts would threaten to lift up my skirt, exposing
to the world my seemingly whorish condition. My nipples rubbed the course
fabric, shooting daggers straight to my libido.
Every eye seemed to catch my loosely dressed image as the two of us strolled
into the mall and down the main promenade. I was relieved when we entered one of
the stores near the entrance, a trendy teens store. Music blared as we walked by
rack after rack of skimpy, tight, sexy clothes for high schoolers. She marched
me to the racks of blouses, picking up an assortment, none of which I would have
ever considered even in my more rambunctious youth. We skimmed the skirt section
where she selected a grouping of skirts that seemed to lack enough fabric to be
called skirts. She quickly herded me into the dressing room.
"I have coordinated the outfits. Change and come find me so I can assess each on
you. Don't touch your clit for any reason. Now hurry up, slut!" she warned.
Though I feel comfortable in a size 4, she had selected nothing but size 2
outfits, which were already meant for a tight fit. The first selection was a
sheer blue button up blouse which was so tight that it took some effort to
fasten the buttons. I quickly slipped on the tiny skirt. What I saw when I
turned to look in the mirror made me shiver. The hem of the skirt ended just two
inches below my butt cheeks. If I bent over for any reason, I would expose my
plugged ass. You could see the shimmer of wetness on the inside of my upper
thighs. And the blouse did nothing to hide my breasts, showcased by the 1/4 cup
bra. My nipples where straining to poke through the fabric, the smooth surface
rubbing maddeningly against the erect nubs. With the heels, I looked like some
kind of horny tramp. How could she expect me to go out like this.
Yet I knew that I had no choice. I sucked it up and walked out into the store.
Brittany was up at the front counter talking with the sales girl. The heels
forced me to exaggerate the sway of my tight hips, causing the skirt to ride up
a bit with each step. I pulled down the hem as i approached Brittany. "Turn
around," she ordered. The clerk was a smallish girl with an extremely
provocative outfit hugging her tight little frame. Her stares further fueled my
embarrassment.
Completing my turn, Brittany asked, "Precious, isn't she? Look at how horny she
is."
"You were right, she is an adorable little toy. How long has she been your
slave? A day? And she is already leaking like a faucet?"
They both smiled as I listened, mortified at how they were talking about me like
I was a possession, just an object that they owned. The sales girl approached
me, her eyes level with my breasts. She rubbed my nipples through the fabric,
eliciting a loud moan. As she began to pinch, I moved my hands reflexively to
protect my nipples. In an instant, I knew that I was in trouble.
"Ah, how disappointing. Slut, you will need to be punished. And since you
offended my friend, she will determine how you will be punished."
I was petrified as both girls escorted me to the back room of the store. I
should have bolted out of the store and grabbed someone from security. I am sure
they would help me. But I was dressed like a sexed-up slut in clothes that had
not paid for. I would not be treated like a victim, but like a common thief.
Again, I was trapped.
The sales girl pulled out a set of handcuffs from a desk drawer. She grabbed my
wrists and secured them behind me. She then grabbed a length of rope and tied it
to the strap weaved into my ponytail. Then with the help of Brittany they pulled
the rope over a pipe running parallel to the ceiling. They pulled it tight,
forcing me up on the balls of high heels to take the strain off my hair. I
screamed out my discomfort and was met with a ball gag being popped into my
mouth. Again, I felt completely helpless.
The sales girl licked her lips as she began to slowly, ever so slowly, unbutton
my blouse. She intentionally brushed my nipples as she reached the last buttons.
She looked like a kid in a candy store with the way she stared at my breasts. I
heard the now familiar snap of a camera as Brittany took pictures of my
debasement in the hands of this evil little creature. The clerk unfastened my
skirt and pulled it down my stretched legs, dropping them down around my toes.
And there I stood, bound, naked and helpless, sexually excited in front of two
sadistic teens. What frightened me most was that I was silently begging for them
to touch me, to use my pussy, to make me cum. The clerk massaged my breasts,
then squeezing and pulling my nipples out. God that hurt. She kept at my breasts
for several long minutes, driving me insane with both pain and lust. When she
finished, my breasts where pink and swollen, my nipples again hypersensitive
long nubs.
Snap. Brittany put down the camera and leaned forward to whisper to me,
"remember the rules, my slut." I did not even see the first blow land. A
blinding fire of pain crossed my chest as the small lash slapped across the pail
skin of my breasts. I screamed out in pain. Brittany announced, "You forgot to
thank my friend for the lash, and you screamed out without permission. You have
earned two additional lashes."
I thought that I would die when the lash hit my breasts again, catching the
nipple flush. I bit my lip to endure the pain, then whispered, "Two, thank you
for lashing me." Brittany toyed with the plug in my ass, wiggling it and
twisting it. With her other hand, she toyed with the lips of my pussy and
enjoying my reactions.
Slap
"Three, thank you for lashing me." This was unbearable. The sales girl would
allow enough time for the pain to recede, allowing me to feel the enormity of my
excitement and sending me skyrocketing towards an orgasm. Then she would hit me
again, chasing away the orgasm with the return of the blinding pain.
By the time we finished number seven, I was certain that all of the skin had
been whipped off my precious breasts. Tears streamed down as the pain slowly
turned to a hot, hot burning throb. Brittany stopped toying with me. She ran her
finger up my thigh to mid-level, than lifted two fingers to my eyes to show me
how much of my love juice had leaked down my leg. She then reached up and
released my hair from it's suspension. I was a raw bundle of nerve endings.
"On your knees, slut! Now you will show your appreciation by sucking off my
friend." I struggled to kneel down on the hard concrete floor while my hands
were still locked behind me. The sales girl quickly removed her skirt to reveal
a finally trimmed slit that was already leaking from arousal. She sat on the
edge of the desk and pulled me forward with my ponytail, mashing my face into
her crotch.
Fearing another punishment, I quickly got to work. I licked the wetness off her
nether lips. She tasted different than Brittany, not as sweet, with more of a
musky scent. As I reached her clit she started bucking her hips wildly into my
mouth. She held onto my pony tail tightly, smothering me with her pussy. I
flicked my tongue as quickly as I could. She came violently, moaning and
thrusting like a bronco. I sucked in her clit and she came again. Her orgasms
drove me wild with need. I gently chewed on her clit, using my tongue to flick
the very tip. She was rolling into her third straight orgasm. She had to push my
head away to calm herself down. I landed hard on my back.
I laid there on the floor, panting, with pussy juice all over my mouth and
crotch. Brittany knelt down next to me, lightly rubbing my cheek and cooing,
"You are a good slave. Good slave. Yes...." And as she stroked me and reassured
me, I felt like an owned woman, a slave, a slut. I felt nothing like the
powerful woman I thought I was just a day ago. And I never felt more alive.
(to be continued)
