Alex’s Story
Chapter 3
In the passenger seat of Emma’s blue compact car, I admired the view of her side-boob through the opening in her shirt. “You don’t always need to dress quite this slutty, just enough to be a little uncomfortable.”
Emma rolled her eyes and accelerated. She was driving angrily, and it worried me. “Hey,” I said, “Slow down and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I was so tired from tossing and turning from being hot and bothered all night, I couldn’t make it to the gym. I need to train every day to stay in competitive shape.”
I had expected her to lecture me about sexual humiliation and forced exhibition. “You’re not upset that I spanked you in front of Sam?” I asked.
When she moved her foot to tap the breaks, her skirt inched up her leg. I wanted to put my hand on her leg and feel the heat from her thighs, but I decided now was not the time.
“Look,” she said, “You have mind control, and boys will be boys. For us girls, it looks like it will be all hands-on deck this summer. But there’s no reason for you to screw up my life plans because you want to get off.”
I was astonished until I recognized my own conditioning in her words, “Emma, I don’t want to screw up your life. If you need to touch yourself before going to bed so you can sleep, you can just ask me.”
“Thank you she said.” And then “where are we going anyways?”
“Adult Emporium, I have your mom’s credit card,” I said. She turned and grinned at me, her anger gone, “Are you so perverted you don’t even want to fuck?” I laughed, but it was my turn to be embarrassed. I did really, really, really want to have sex with Emma, but I didn’t feel ready, so I deflected.
“Are you a virgin?” I asked.
“No, but almost. I had some vanilla sex with a boyfriend and gave some blowjobs in college. The orgasms were not, uh, very intense.” I had an edge over college boys there.
“You mean you didn’t have any?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. Next question.”
“How do you feel going out in that outfit?”
“I feel exposed. I know Sam was staring and men will to when we’re in the store. I know that it’s turning you on until you get the courage up to screw me, and the tension gets me hot. It’s also a humiliating to be objectified and I would never choose this, but something about it sucks me right in I guess.” She was beginning to breathe a little harder near the end. I wanted to hear more, but I was worried the distraction might cause her to crash.
“What are we going to do about Sam?” I asked.
That caught her off guard, “what do you mean “about Sam”?”
“Have you thought how uncomfortable it is for him to be around beautiful women all the time and not be supposed to notice them. Probably his nights have been as sleepless as yours.”
Emma said nothing and I decided to try a different suggestion.
“I’m not going to make you to do this, but if I’m going to let you orgasm, it only seems fair that you would help Sam.” I gave the statement a unnatural credibility with a mental tweak.
“What is it?” asked Emma.
“I think it would be really good for Sam if you, uh, gave him a helping hand once a day.”
“You mean a hand-job, you want me to start giving Sam hand-jobs?”
We were at the adult store and the turn of the car and steep driveway shook Emma’s left boob to freedom. I didn’t tell her because it was funny and hot at the same time.
Emma sighed, “Ok, I guess if you’re going to let me have my orgasms, I should pass that along. I can tell Sam you’re making me?”
“Yes, I said, “be sure to give him a great view of your body while you’re getting him off.”
“Is that an order?”
“It’s an order if it turns you on. Frankly, is it an order?”
She had to think it through but then coughed and said under her breath, “yes.”
We parked around the back and walked into the back entrance because Emma was embarrassed by her slutty outfit. She noticed her escaped boob as she got out of the car and re-arranged it back into her shirt. I opened the store door for and took the opportunity appreciate the lines of her back as they rose from her skirt into her shirt.
It was early for a weekday evening and there was only an old man browsing the DVDs and a couple of giggling teenage girls looking at huge pink dildos. I did a quick scan to make sure they weren’t from my school, but they were out of towners stopping by on their way through for a laugh. The cashier was a tall goth woman with fishnet stockings, a black dress, black lipstick, and black acrylic nails. She was reading a book with an image of woman tied spread eagle on some kind of science fiction device on the cover. Her eyes followed Emma over the book as we browsed.
I found the remote control dildoes and picked out four double pronged, moderately sized ones that advertised Bluetooth and Wi-Fi connections. Emma said, “Oh my god, you can’t be serious.”
Next, I found metal butt plugs with poofy rabbit tales at the end. I said, “Can you imagine the Smith girls dressed up as cute bunnies?” And Emma rolled her eyes at me until I thought they were going to roll out of her head. I started looking at the smallest size and moved larger and larger until Emma groaned with trepidation. I stopped at the largest size, wondered if I was being unreasonable, and picked out four pink bunny tail butt plugs.
“Those are not going to fit, I’m just saying,” said Emma.
“Hush and go get some lube”, I replied.
Without Emma looking over my shoulder, I picked out rope with a book of knots, four mean nipple clamp pairs with serrated teeth connected on chains, a few different kind of gags, a big dull metal hook with a ring at one end, and, mostly out of curiosity, an enema kit. Emma came back with two big bottles of lube and a pack of condoms. She turned her head sideways to read the labels of the boxes in my arms. I decided I would never get tired of her tan, fit body. She seemed to be getting used to being exposed in public, she had everyone’s attention in the store. I thought I detected a hint of unnecessary lift in her step that made everything bounce under her insubstantial clothes.
We went to be rung up and the goth cashier put her book down with an intense scowl. She raised a severely plucked and shaded eyebrow at Emma and looked her up and down. From her headphones came the harsh sound of the kind of rock that sets screaming to auto-tune.
“Your slut is gorgeous, do you ever rent her out?”
Emma’s exhibitionism evaporated in the glaring light of the goth’s domineering gaze, and she rejoined coldly, “My name is Emma, thank you. He does not.”
“Does not so far,” I corrected, “what are you suggesting?”
Emma narrowed her eyes at me and mouthed, “N O”, but I was intrigued.
“At the leather club or my house for more,” she paused, “intense parties.” I noticed that the lady on the cover of her novel was being penetrated in every orifice by steel tentacles to a background of lightning.
“What would you pay?” I asked.
“Not in cash, in services” she said. The thought of renting out Emma was titillating to me, and Emma looked alarmed. The goth held out her phone. “My Insta,” she said. The pictures were of 20 somethings in white diaphanous, white robes bound with rope and chains. It looked more theatrical than sinister. “I’ll follow you,” I said and heaped up my purchases on the counter.
The price was shocking, and I was about to do a mind control on the goth when I had another idea. “How would you like to start renting her right now?” I asked.
The eyebrow came up again. “Nothing too serious, but if you want to grope her and manhandle her a little, would that be worth a discount?”
“15%, I say when.” Said the goth
“Alex, no!” gasped Emma.
“20 % and it’s a deal,” I said. But somewhere private.
“Follow me behind the counter,” said the goth slipping off her stool.
I took Emma’s hand and she followed me. We went into a little storeroom through a curtain of beads on strings. It rattled as we passed through, and I could still see out into the store from inside. The shelves were stacked with office supplies and cleaning equipment.
Packed together in the small room I could see that the goth woman was taller than Emma and me. She put her hands on either side of Emma’s waist at the narrowest part and commanded Emma, “look at me.”
Emma looked up with wide eyes and my cock twitched. The goth said, “My friends call me Sandra, you may call me mistress.”
Emma looked a little frighted and jumped when Sandra hissed, “Say it!”
“Mistress!” Yelped Emma. I was hard now and was imagining Emma saying “Sir” with the same frightened enthusiasm.
Sandra dragged her nails up Emma’s sides until she reached the buttons holding together the shirt. Then she pinched the buttons off with her black acrylics. Emma winced as each button popped onto the floor. Sandra pulled open the shirt baring Emma’s chest to the storeroom and anyone looking through the curtain of beads.
“Lovely,” said Sandra, and stroked Emma’s breasts with her fingers. The dragging nails gave Emma goosebumps, and I could see a flush beginning at the nape of her neck.
“Are you going to be a good slut for me?” asked Sandra.
“Yes,” said Emma as though she were in a trance.
Sandra pinched with the tips of her nails into the soft flesh of Emma’s chest. Emma gasped and tried to back away, but the room was too small. “Yes, what?” demanded Sandra.
“Yes, mistress!” pleaded Emma.
Sandra cupped Emma’s left breast. With her right hand, she grabbed Emma’s neck from the back tilting Emma’s head back and parting her mouth. Sandra leaned in and nibbled at Emma’s lips before pushing her tongue into Emma’s mouth. Sandra fucked Emma’s mouth with her tongue while tormenting Emma’s body with the sharp, black nails. They left two little red marks wherever they pinched. Emma was squirming and gasping. I heard her try to plead, but it was unintelligible with Sandra’s tongue in her throat. I could feel my dick rise against my pants, but I was also worried what Sandra would do next. I was pulling myself together to say something when the bell from the front desk rang for service.
Sandra pulled back and looked down at Emma, who was panting, mouth slack and eyes wide. “Duty calls, my darling. You’ve earned 20%” And to me, “She is delicious, you can name your price and I will show you an evening of her torment like you wouldn’t dream.”
Sandra’s theatricality was a little silly, but I had no doubt that an evening with her would be intense, maybe too intense, for Emma. I but it might be what the bitchy twins needed.
Sandra pushed out through the beaded curtains to where the old man was staring through them at Emma. I didn’t blame him. I draped Emma’s shirt over her boobs for her modesty. “How are you?” I asked. “That was nuts,” replied Emma with a weak smile. I think she was in shock. We checked out after the old man. The price after the 20% discount was still astronomical and the bags of boxes were heavy. Sandra winked at Emma before picking back up her novel.
When Emma didn’t tie up her shirt for the walk to her car, I began to feel concerned. Had Sandra broken her? She got into the car, and I got in beside her and put my hand on her leg under her skirt. She closed her legs over my hand squeezing it in the hot part of her inner thigh.
“Emma, are you ok?”
“No, Alex, I’ve been teased and played with all day. I’m dizzy with arousal and exhausted, I don’t think I’m safe to drive.”
“Ok, I said, Chinese fire drill. Your shirt’s untied.”
“What, you don’t like?” she quipped.
“I love, but I don’t want to be pulled over.”
I was resolving to give Emma a break and turning the ignition key when I felt my phone buzz. The message was from Chelsea and I shielded the phone from Emma. In the selfie, Chelsea was on her hands and knees wearing only a dog collar and leash. Her body was strategically positioned so that her arms and legs protected her modesty from the camera Her head was turned so only her brown hair was visible. The image was followed by a text, “Image as you requested, sir. I fantasized my teenage neighbor made me his puppy.”
I cleared my throat, “Emma, you look like you’ve had enough for one day. We’ll take it slower tomorrow, ok?”
“Jeeze, man. Tomorrow again?” She gave me a tired lopsided smile, “I don’t know how much more foreplay I can take before I explode.”