this is what Felicitations originally started as in my head. Ya’ll know it turned out differently when it went from head to fingers. I promise i’ll get back to there, soon. But for now, a little “nilla quickie” for you…the “original” story.
She hated shopping. Much preferring internet or catalog browsing to actually setting foot in a store was the way to go. The mall was deadly. So many people, too many choices and too fucking much money.
Yet she wanted something special for the club next week. She’d texted Michael and he not only agreed, but he insisted that she go out and pick something out. He was her boss, her lover, her Dom, and although she didn’t feel the least bit submissive about shopping as a direct order, she obeyed.
She didn’t even bother heading to the mall, the strips of shops, or any of the usual places. She decided to check out the tiny stores on the side of town that “good” girls didn’t go to.
Rife with tattoo parlors, piercing shops, and the like, it was a place destined to make those “good” girls wet their panties in fear. She’d seen a little sex shop that she’d not been to before the last time she and Sir had come down here. That had been the time He’d decided to tat her with his mark. She’d been too nervous, facing the needle, to note her surroundings on the way in. But going home she’d been riding the endorphin high; between the privelege of being marked as His property, and the needle, she’d been ebullient.
That’s when she’d seen the sex shop. She had noted that they had clothing in one window. Perhaps here she’d find something sexy and different for the Winter Smash, the D/s “ball” that was held each February.
Parking in front of the store, she slid out of the car, and headed inside. Not for her the vapid simpering when she saw the rack of dildo’s when she stepped inside. It was warm and cozy here.
“Help you?” This from the thin man behind the counter.
“Looking for something…special. Different. Sexy. Risque. Naughty. And not some cheap outfit from Taiwan, either.”
He smirked at her, then looked her up and down.
“This way…” and he led her off behind a purple curtain that was covered with gold and silver stars. He flicked a switch. The room was very small, with just 3 racks. But the clothing was stunning.
“They’re pricey, but nice. Dressing room is through there,” and he waved his hand to the opposite side of the room. “Through the curtain and to the left a bit. The light comes on when you close the door. ”
“Thanks” she said absently, already looking at the offerings. A deep midnight blue dress that was dashed with silver beads caught her eye, but no fucking way was she going to pay two grand for a gown.
“That one was owned by Lana Turner, you know the screen goddess?”
She looked up at him as if to say ‘you’re still here?’ and went back to looking, murmuring a vague ‘mmmhhmm” to him.
He took the hint and left her alone.
There were three gowns that passed muster. She fumbled with the stupid green curtain, turning to the right. She was blinded by the sudden gloom after the brightness of the other room, and staggered along, hand against the wall, until she came to a door. As she opened it, a green light above the door flashed on.
She stepped inside, took a step forward, then stumbled to her knees. “What the fuck?” she grumbled. She tried to push herself up, by pushing on the opposite wall, but something closed around her wrists.
“Hey!” she yelped. The door behind her opened. “Get me out of here.”
“oh, I don’t think so” said a strange voice. “After all, you came into the Glory Hole of your own free will…”
The hand on the back of her head pushed forward, pulling a strap tightly around her neck to hold her down.. A second strap went around her head, and fingers quickly pried open her mouth, slipping a ring gag inside behind her teeth.
She heard a metallic clicking, and felt something under her moving. She was pulled forward until she was kneeling, ass up in the air. Feeling a brush of air against her mouth, she suddenly understood. She was almost laying on her belly, chest on the top step of the device, mouth facing a glory hole.
In seconds, the head of a cock pushed through the hole. She heard music playing in the background, as her mouth was filled with the strange dick. Rhythmically, she heard his hips bang on the wall between them as his cock pressed into her mouth, then retreated.
She heard the groan seconds before she felt the hot semen spurt onto her tongue. She couldn’t not swallow it, gagged as she was. She couldn’t move, couldnt’ protest. Just take. She felt hands on her hips, fingers working the button and zipper of her jeans, and the caress of cool air against her ass. Any protest she may have attempted to utter, was shoved back into her mouth by another cock pressing through the glory hole and punching deeply into her throat. She gagged, even as she felt a different cock press against the slit between her thighs.
In moments she was filled, front and back. Grunts were soon accompanied by slaps, as the man fucking her from behind pumped furiously into her. Her hips and ass throbbed under the blows, and she whimpered around the cock lodged between her lips. The pumping and slapping grew more intense, followed soon by loud male groans as he filled her with his jism.
The one cock left her pussy; only seconds passed before another was pressing against her, then into her.
“She’s nice n wet.”
The cock in her throat exploded, then pulled away. And her mouth was filled again. She lost track of how many times a cock had pierced the hole in the wall, sliding into her wedged-open mouth and deposited a load of cum into her belly.
She felt sick with it.
She had cum spatter on her face, and on her back and legs. Her pussy oozed a constant drip of expended seed.
“Had enough, slut?”
“she’s been a fun little thing, Master Michael. Thanks for sharing her.”
“Well, a slut is always happiest being used, I say.”
She trembled as hands unfastened her from the glory box. She staggered when He pulled her to her feet, but He refused her upturned lips.
“You look like you spent the day in a porn shop, slut.” He laughed, and took her home.
“You have the most gorgeous dress of all,” ooohed one of her friends at the Ball.
“Yeah, I thought you weren’t going to spend a ton of money on a gown,” said another.
“She didn’t,” said her Master, coming up behind her and taking her arm.
“No, my little slut didn’t pay any money at all. You could say…she earned it …..Glory, glory hallelujah, eh, slut?…”
His laugh accompanied them to the dance floor.