Shop Til You Drop…

He had pushed her headfirst into the shopping carriage. They were parked on the less travelled side of the grocery store, but still visable to any of the more adventurous shoppers who like them, were out so late, in the drizzle and gloom.

They had been out of milk, out of tea and coffee, and he was out of patience for her not getting this chore done while he was off helping a client sort out their latest pc disaster. When he had returned home several hours later, she was still in front of her computer. Due to her naked state, and the scent of arousal when he walked into the bedroom, he knew she’d been masturbating there, and had never gotten dressed, headed to the grocery store, and started dinner. So it was a tired, hungry, and angry Master who ordered his cuntwhore (a name he used only when he was  angry with her) to dress. He threw the outfit at her, a brief crop top, and short skirt, along with 3 inch heels. Not an outfit one would normally wear to buy milk in, but it was a punishment of humiliation and an exercise in obeying that he was instilling.

On the drive to the store, she was silent, sulking. As he pulled into the last parking space on the side, she looked at  him, silently wondering why he’d parked way the hell over here, rather than taking a spot right out front, since there were many available.

“You stole an orgasm from me.” It was a flat statement, not a question, and she flushed, and looked away.

“Right.” he said, then gestured her out of the car. In the store he took every opportunity to embarrass her. He loudly pointed out a pair of cantalopes that he said reminded him of her breasts, to the amusement of the young teen stocking nearby. Master waggled his eyebrows at the boy, who blushed. Master brought her over to the youth, who may have been all of 17. Let him stare. Smiled, then smacking her on her ass, told her to

“get a move on, there’s better things I want to do tonight rather than look at cantalope!” His leer let the boy know just what things those were, and Master chuckled to see the bulge bump out the front of the lad’s chino’s.

He rubbed her ass as she bent over to get the pretzels he wanted. Only the ones that were on the bottom shelf would do, which caused her to  flash her naked cheeks at an elder gentleman who was turning into  the isle.  “Turn in, turn on,” her  Master chuckled again. Master was certain that fellow would be sporting a woodie tonight, too.

As she reached up high for the cereal he liked, he grabbed under her upraised arm, holding it in place, then he leaned into her  and licked her cleavage.  She blushed deeply, although she could not see anyone, facing the racks of cereal as she was, she was certain he was ‘performing’ for yet another unsuspecting shopper. Her nipples rose as he gently blew on the flesh he had just dampened, and were clearly visable through the thin top. She looked him in the eye and whispered, “stop, please?” He just smiled at her and made a large “O” with his mouth. This then, was her punishment for “stealing’ an orgasm from him. She’d been on orgasm denial for 2 days now and gawd she’d needed to cum. He’d been unreachable by phone, refusing to take her call while he was with his client, so she had made an executive decision and “O’d” while watching porn on the internet. Big. Mistake.

Finally they made it to the checkout. Twenty items and it had taken the best part of an hour to traverse the store. The older fellow was right behind them, no doubt hoping to catch another glimpse of her ass. Master noted this, and as she leaned forward to unload the groceries, turned to wink at the fellow, and gently pulled the back of  her skirt up, flashing him another glance of her sweet round asscheeks. There was even a sheen of moisture on her inner thighs. Despite what she may say with her mouth, her body was hot for this kind of humiliation. He smiled.

They wheeled the carriage to their car, and unloaded the bags into the trunk. Once the cart was empty, he pushed it a short distance away, then closed the trunk of the car while grabbing her arm with his other hand. Pulling her forward, he firmly shoved her over the front of the carriage, pushing her head down to the bottom of the cart, exposing her lovely ass. She felt her skirt hiked up to her waist, and then his cock at the entrance of her dripping cunt hole. He fucked her wildly, rudely, loudly. He told her to cum, and she did. He kept pumping, and began torturing her clit, flicking, pulling, squeezing it, forcing her to cum again, then again. Finally he poured his seed inside her. Using the wetness between her thighs, he lubed three fingers and plunged them up her ass. She screamed, tried to rise up, but he pressed her back with his free hand, then used that hand to work her clit again.

“Can’t…” she moaned…”five times already, can’t…cum….”

But she did. And again. Finally, when she was limp, he pulled her from the cart, guided her into the car where he’d put a towel earlier. Locking the seat belt around her, his face in hers, he smiled.

“Two security cams on this side of the building hon. You’re gonna be a porn star at the grocer’s tonight!”

Camp Nekkink ch. 12

He hung her.

She wasn’t quite certain how he’d gotten around her protests, but he was a Master, her master now, and she had given herself to him. She didn’t take any committment lightly, but this was so new, so different. Oh hell, so exciting! This was her. Corinne the Boring. That’s what her best friend had called her, just a week or so ago. Ha! Wouldn’t Eva be surprised at her “boring” friend if she could see her now.

She was reclining, poised on one foot. Laying in the air, horizontal to the floor, her body made a perfect capitol “T”. A rope twined about her body, beautiful, the patterns and twists of rope, but also binding her tightly in place. At 48, she was still a lovely woman, but she had no idea that she would be able to be posed thus. Her arms were bound behind her back, a rope wrapped from her shoulders, cinching her large breasts, making them balloons that were slowly turning a deep crimson. More rope snaked down her torso, crossing on each side of her cunt, wrapping down to her left ankle, and back up to the beam she was suspended from. With her right foot planted on the floor to hold her steady, she could only watch as people came up to her, admired the rope work and her body. Hands fondled  her tits, pulled her nipples. Her Master stood behind her, one hand on her hip, the other lightly stroking her shoulder, occasionally reaching for her nipple and pulling it, hard.  She moaned, he smiled. He watched as some of her cunt dew accumulated on her inner thigh, then slowly slid over the soft flesh, to drip onto the floor.

“You may think you hate this, cunt, but your body says differently. You’re oozing so much wetness that the floor beneath you is  wet. That’s becoming quite a habit for you, isn’t it, little slut?” He laughed at her discomfiture. Sliding his fingers from her hip to her ass, he fondled that globe, then slid down the crack, following the hemp rope down to the opening of her cunt. He slid two fingers inside her, and wiggled them. She jerked and moaned, embarrassed, no, mortified. She was not slipping into any kind of “subspace” laying as she was. There were too many outside things bringing her awareness….strange hands on her body, his fingers arousing her, playing her like some kind of sex instrument, strumming his toy to a thrumming near-peak, but always leaving her just shy of completion.

“May I?” a voice asked from in front of her. He was standing much to close for her to be able to see him, just the jutting cock that was staring her in the face.

“Certainly,” said the voice of her Master.

WTF?? No! He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, would he  ??? And yet, the cock in front of her banged at her mouth forcefully, and He swatted her on the ass, while commanding her to

“Open your mouth, cunt!”  While she was facefucked by the strange Master before her, her Master was fucking her with his fingers, driving deeply into her wet hole, causing moans to mewl out of her around the cock in her mouth. It seemed like hours before a spurt of cum filled her mouth, then he pulled his cock out of her lips and spurted the rest of his load on her face and tits. She showed him what was in her mouth, as he grasped her chin, a neat trick since she was hanging sideways, but she did it, and was congratulated and ordered to swallow what she had.  Again her Master stopped fucking her just as her orgasm was ready to crest over. Again she moaned her frustration.

“My pleasure, cunt, remember that,” he whispered, leaning close to her. She felt his hands drop away from her, felt him stepping away from her.  Across the room from her, she could see a …a slave, she supposed, being beaten by two people, each taking a turn striking her with short crops. She couldn’t hear it, but she could see the woman jerk each time the crop met her flesh, and see the welt rising, and reddening.

She could hear a high whishing sound, then a moment later, a burning erupted across her back, snaking over her hip. She jolted, cried out in shock. Another whish, and other line of fire fringed from her hip around to her belly. Again a whish, again the sear of her flesh. She could feel the welts arise across  her flesh, her ass and back and hip, belly and breast. He left her legs alone, thank goodness, and then as quickly as it had begun, it was over. After the initial cry, she had been silent, although tears filled her eyes, and dripped silently onto the floor. She felt cool hands caressing her welts, heard one man say to Him, “she takes pain well,” heard her Master agree,  then felt him kiss her hip.  As the rope master bent to his task of unwinding her, she caught him smiling at her. She returned a weak  smile, sore, weary, but proud that she had taken yet another step on her journey. Damn that man could hit! An eternity later, she was free, and in His arms.

The Window

Written with thanks to Curvaceous Dee, for her HNT photos were the inspiration behind this story….

 He was watching her again. He was standing at his window, telescope set, when she walked into her bedroom. He watched her peel off layer after layer of her day, until she was down to her silky maroon chemise and “gawd amighty thank you, ” he whispered reverently, panties to match. He watched her hair swing against her back, and he smiled when she opened her closet door. Inside that door was a full length mirror, so now he could see her from the front and back simultaneously. Heavenly!

He’d discovered this gem a month ago. She had been naked, standing at her bedroom window, gazing down at the people below. Those mindless drones, working under the spell of Master Blackburry, or Mistress Ifone.  The ones on autopilot in their vehicles, mouths flapping as they worked their cells, mindless to the beauty around them. Surrounded by tall buildings, one had to only to look up to see the sky, the clouds dancing above the skyscrapers, the city hawks and this, his Beauty, gazing. If they had only looked up just then, they would have seen her, her large breasts pressed against the window, nipples raised as they came in contact with the cool, smooth glass. She had stood there for awhile, a statue, lost in thought, and he had gazed, barely breathing, as he took in the view across from him. He had been so angry at Erica, who had, in her final fit of pique, knocked the telescope from it’s precise setting for optimum viewing of Saturn’s rings. 

She who had wanted more than a slave ring from him. Well, she was gone and the drama in his life tamed considerably. Sometimes sex could not make up for all the other bullshit people doled out. He loved being a Master, but the whole point in training was for the pet to stay trained. Erica, she was untrainable, like a puppy he’d gotten from a pet store in his youth. They never could teach that dog anything, and he laughed to think of the haughty Ms. Erica Devlin compared to that destructive and annoying pooch.  Now, he really had to thank her, for her parting shot had in fact been a gift in disguise.

His attention snapped back to the present. She was dancing!  His goddess, his treasure, was doing a slow and sinuous dance for  herself, looking at herself in her mirror. Her hands began to trace the outlines of her nipples, tease at the edge of lace on the chemise. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised her finger to her mouth, sucked on it, then traced a path from throat to cleavage. One thin strap slid slowly down her shoulder, landing in a soft U at the crook of her elbow. She seemed not to notice, as she slid that wet finger beneath the lace and he watched the moving mound of it dance over the crest of her breast while her lovely round hips and ass traced a figure eight in the air.

His cock leaped to attention, his breath caught in his throat as he watched her dance and play. He watched her shrug the other strap down, and as she did, the chemise slid down her torso, catching briefly on upthrust nipples.

“Fall, fall, fall,” he chanted, leaning forward and praying for..”YES!”

The soft silken fabric pooled around her waist, exposing her large, soft globes to his view and her exploring hands. He watched her cupping those lovely tits, raising them like an offering to her mirror image. He watched as she pinched and twisted her nipples to hardness, saw her throw her head back and lick her lips, then bite her lower lip as lust built from her love play.

He freed his hard cock, rubbing and playing himself, imagined holding those globes together with  firm hands,  fucking deeply between them, tapping her chin and mouth with the head of his cock until he exploded and dripped white hot cum across her lovely face.  He looked at the pool of cum on the floor, smiled wryly. First time he’d shot off like that in a long time, he mused.

When he looked back through the telescope she was gone. He saw that the light had gone off, and although he imagined that she was even now laying on her bed and pleasuring herself to orgasm, he could see nothing of it. Sighing, he covered his telescope, and took himself off to his computer.


It was Thursday, and the crowds at the market were horrendous, thanks to a prediction of snow on the weekend.

“Heaven forbid someone runs out of Winder Bread,” she fumed, as yet another person banged into her as they rushed down the bread isle. Grabbing a box of  RingyDongs, she tossed it into her basket. She only needed a few things, so she had forgone using the carriage, thank goodness, as she would have had a difficult time manuevering through this crowd. She turned left at the endcap, when someone crashed right into her. She dropped her basket, he dropped his, and he grabbed her tightly as she nearly fell down.

A deep voice asked her if she was alright, all the while holding her tightly. Crushed to his big chest, all she noticed were the stars circling her head, and his musky masculine smell. Gathering her wits, she leaned back and looked up at him. Oh. My. She had seen him about in the neighborhood, oogled him, more precisely. She had never seen him this close before, certainly never close enough to smell the deep woodsy scent of him. He was an older man, tall, with lots of dark hair going silver at the temples.  His eyes were….piercing. Intense. She shivered, felt her pulse increase, her nipples harden.

“This was the guy,” she thought wildly, “that I maturbated to last night. My fantasy man!”   She stared at him, and he gazed back. He smiled, breaking the spell that had seemed to come over her.

“Are you okay, Miss?” he asked again, kindly.

“His voice, oh my, his voice was just as I imagined it would be,”  she thought as she shivered again. It was like warmed honey on toast. Sinful, rich. A shaft of lust drove from her nipples to her belly. Heat sizzled from his arms, still holding her securely, to her core. Ignoring the buzz of people around them, they were an island of silent communication.

She shook herself, eased away from his gentle hold, overwhelmed by what had come over her in those few seconds. Squatting to retrieve her items, he did the same, hands reaching for the same item, touching. Again the near sizzle of heat lept between them. Again he smiled. Twice more their hands met, until finally, he retrieved her fingers. Holding her hand, he invited her to coffee.

They checked out together. Sat in the coffee shop, knees touching, his hands playing with her fingers. He drew her out, made her smile, laugh out loud twice.  He gently felt her out about S & M, discovered a dark spark lived in her, told her he could help her grow and bloom that spark, that he knew what she was missing.

“What?” she asked him, bluntly. “What am I missing?”

“The stars, little one. You are missing the stars. To see beyond this world, and out to the stars, it’s best to use a  telescope, which I happen to have. ”

Smiling, arm and arm, they went out into the night.