Housewife's Awakening
(MF, F+/F, wife, 1st-lesbian, reluctant)
If you enjoy this story please e-mail me at wifefantasy@hotmail.com to let me
know. If you have an idea for how this story should continue, please let me
know and I will work it into one of the upcoming chapters.
Chapter Five - Adventures at the Mall
Debbie couldn't help smiling to herself as she cooked breakfast for the kids.
This morning when her two nieces awoke and her family had made it's way out the
door, she would reclaim her independence.
She felt a deep sense of relief while also feeling ashamed of the things she had
done the past few days. Just as her mind started to wander over the events of
last evening Brett came rushing into the kitchen.
"Hi sweetness, I have an early morning meeting so I have to run. Let's plan on
getting together tonight. I think we really need to talk," Brett hurriedly
inquired while grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door.
Debbie nearly shouted at him as he headed for the front door, "Yes darling,
please, let's plan on spending some time together tonight. I really miss you."
"Me too, see you tonight," Brett added as he exited the front door.
Debbie felt a deep sense of relief that Brett was still trying to reach out to
her, despite her actions over the past few days. But she couldn't help notice
that for the first time in years he had gone off to work without kissing her
goodbye.
After getting the kids dressed and off to school Debbie started her morning
ritual of cleaning the house. Although she was going through the motions of
cleaning she was completely preoccupied with the speech she would give the girls
when they came downstairs.
************************************************************************
About mid morning Stephanie and Amber came bounding down the stairs. Debbie's
heart rate increased dramatically as she prepared herself to face down her
nieces.
"Good morning slut! How are you doing on this wonderful morning? We have lots
planned for you today," Stephanie said in a gleeful tone.
"Not today, nor ever again. I decided last night that you would not rule me any
longer. I know that you have pictures of me with each of you. But if you give
them to Brett, or any body else, I will give them to your dad and tell him about
all the despicable things you have forced me to do. If you want to deal with
him and his temper then please, be my guest, but you will find your out in the
street. Brett will be shocked, but he will forgive me. After all, it's not
like you have pictures of me with another man." Debbie said in the bravest tone
she could muster.
The girls looked at each other and started to laugh uncontrollably. Debbie
watched them in shock and could not figure out for the life of her why they were
laughing.
"Dear, dear, auntie slut. Do you really think that a stupid slut like you can
tell us how things are going to be?" Stephanie mocked.
Slap! Slap! Amber slapped her hand across Debbie's face bringing a tear to her
eye.
"You stupid cunt, sit down now. You need to watch the video that I have made
for your loving husband, the kid's teachers, your neighbors, and your church to
watch before you say another stupid word to us!"
Debbie sat down on the sofa and watched as Amber inserted a video tape into the
VCR and pressed play. Debbie's hand went over her mouth at the first scene. It
was her, Debbie herself, with the paper boy's cock in her mouth and her hand
around it. Her head was bobbing up and down and she could hear herself slurping
as she tried to swallow the young boy's cock head. To Debbie's further
surprise, she could tell that she was enjoying herself.
Debbie continued to watch in horror as she paraded around the grocery store
putting on an obscene show. Debbie started to cry as she was humiliated
watching herself behave in such a disgusting manner.
The next scene on the video was of Jimmy the paper boy trying to collect.
"Please you can't leave yet, I haven't paid you yet!" Debbie said, as she raced
over and pinned Jimmy against the door.
Jimmy spun around, he was face to face with Debbie, as she leaned her body
weight into his.
"Well I just thought you might like me," Debbie said, in her sexiest voice.
"Your all right I guess," Jimmy moaned. "Please Mrs. S. What are you doing?"
Debbie was pressing up against the young man. She started to pull at the young
mans jeans.
"Please Mrs. S. Stop that!" Jimmy cried.
"Don't worry, don't be embarrassed, I will make it all right," Debbie said, on
the verge of tears, as she struggled within herself, and with him. She finally
got the young man's jeans open, as she had to keep batting his hands away.
Reaching in his pants, she gripped his cock, surprised that it was already hard,
when she pulled it out of his pants.
"Ah nice," Debbie managed, as she lied a little, the young man had a smallish
cock, but it was stiff as a board as she gripped it in her hand, jerking it back
and forth.
"See, doesn't that feel good?" she purred, but didn't have to wait for an
answer, as she was suddenly hit with a blast of cum, from the young man's cock.
"Oh man, Oh God!" Jimmy gasped, as he looked at Debbie trying to wipe his cum
from her eye. "I'm sorry, really I didn't mean too."
The video then shifted to Platinum Blondes. Debbie watched in horror as she
stripped in front of a pack of lusting men. How could they have gotten this on
tape she wondered? They were both at home when I was there last night.
The next scene caused Debbie to drop her head and cry in despair as she watched
herself accepting money from men who were sucking her tits and fingering her
cunt.
Debbie could not take anymore. She darted for the VCR and shut the tape off and
then collapsed on the floor in tears. "When, how," Debbie wondered silently and
continued to cry.
There she was, mother of three, sucking a teenage boy's cock, stripping in front
of a group of strange men, and worse of all, accepting money from men in
exchange for sucking her tits and fingering her cunt.
There was no way she could explain this to Brett. He would leave her for sure
and take the kids with him. As much as she hated it, she would have to submit
completely to the girls.
Debbie was pulled to her feet by her hair by Stephanie and ordered to shower.
Debbie quickly got up without protest and went to the bathroom to shower.
When Debbie came back into the room she had a large towel wrapped around her
tits. Stephanie jerked the towel away and pinched Debbie's nipples making them
hard.
Debbie winced in pain, but did not protest. Stephanie led Debbie by her nipples
to the edge of the bed where Stephanie laid out Debbie's clothes for the day.
Debbie was shocked to see only a very short skirt, a black thong and a cotton
tank top. She slipped into the skirt and felt the air on her bare cunt. Next she
pulled the cotton tank top down over her tits. Then she pulled the little black
thong dividing her firm ass cheeks. Debbie bit her lower lip as she could see
the white flesh of her breasts poking out the sides of the tank top.
"We're going shopping." Stephanie announced and headed for the bedroom door
expecting Debbie to follow.
************************************************************************
"And now, off to the mall we go!" Amber announced, breaking Debbie's thoughts of
despair.
The girls opened the doors of their Chevy Suburban and motioned for Debbie to
get
into the back seat. "But first," said Stephanie, let's get that skirt off,
missy. Panties too."
"Oh, no, please don't make me do that Mistress Stephanie," Debbie whined.
"You just don't get it, slut," said Amber. "Have you forgotten that little video
we have of you? What will Brett and the kids think? And all your friends? I can
pretty well guess what all the perverts on the Internet will think when they see
that sweet innocent little face with a cock stuffed in its mouth-hole, complete
with your name, address, and phone number. You'll be the most popular MILF
around. It'll be like you're a dog in heat and they just opened the doors of the
kennel!"
Debbie shuddered at the gross image, and sagged in defeat. It was only she and
her nieces in the parking lot, so she slipped off her shoes, then her skirt,
then her panties. She felt horribly exposed and vulnerable outdoors, so she
quickly climbed into the backseat of the large SUV.
"Might as well do the top, too, stupid slut," said Stephanie.
"Please, may I ask a favor Mistress Stephanie?"
"Sure, slutty fuck face," said Stephanie.
"Would you just not call me horrible names? All this is bad enough, but could
you just not call me names?"
"Awwwww!" the girls jeered in unison. "Poor little Debbie got her feelings
hurt!"
Amber climbed into the driver's seat. Amber got in on Debbie's right. The nude
housewife next to her, aware that her eyes were drinking in her tight hard
33-year-old body. The morning air was chilly, and her nipples had sprung to
attention, further betraying her, making it appear she was sexually aroused.
"Tell you what, Slut Debbie," said Stephanie. "We'll play a little game on the
way to the
mall. If you win the game, we won't call you names any more. You have my word.
If
you lose the game, we'll keep right on calling you whatever we like. Seeing as
how we have total power over you anyway, what do you have to lose?"
What, indeed, she thought. She might as well try.
"What's the game?" she asked meekly.
"Remember last year when you came to see us and you made us listen to that Bon
Jovi CD?" We'd like for you to serenade us on the way to the mall by singing
that song "Living On A Prayer."
"That's all I have to do?" Debbie asked nervously.
"That's it. Just get through the whole song one time, perfectly, without
stopping or making any mistakes, and we'll stop calling you names."
This will be easy, Debbie thought. I'm sure I can remember all the words.
"But we've got to make it challenging," said Amber. "Put your hands behind your
back. Without even thinking, Debbie leaned forward in the back seat and placed
her hands behind her. In a flash, Amber pulled out a pair of handcuffs and
cuffed her wrists. Her arms were now pinned back at the shoulders, her hands
trapped.
"Stop! Oh God please, take them off!" Debbie shouted in panic.
"Shut up!" yelled Amber. "Listen, auntie slut, and listen good. If we get
stopped by
the cops, or if anything happens to us, in any way shape or form, whether it's
your fault or not, all of us have had it. So if anything happens, we will mail
the videos out and posts them on the Net. So it's in your fucking best interest
to make sure that we don't get caught! Got it, bitch?"
Debbie nodded. She was feeling horribly numb again. The logic was inescapable.
She was trapped as the toy of these vile girls and could do nothing about it.
"Let's get comfortable," said Amber. She grabbed Debbie's naked right leg and
pulled it into her lap. She then crossed her legs over her leg, trapping it.
The result, even before Stephanie had started the Suburban, was that Debbie was
nearly immobilized in the backseat. Her hands and arms were cuffed behind her
with the weight of her body leaning back against them, and her legs were spread
wide and held pinned by her sides. She squirmed and wiggled, but could do
nothing. She also noticed, for the first time, that the windows of the girl's
vehicle were darkly smoked, and no one could possibly see inside.
"Here we go," Stephanie said, starting the SUV and pulling out of the driveway.
"Any time you want to start singing, be our guest," said Amber with a giggle.
"Debbie took a deep breath and began: "Johnny used to work on the docks..."
Amber's right hand shot out and grabbed a hold of one perky nipple and started
massaging it.
"Oh God, stop Mistress Amber!" shouted Debbie. Amber kept up her manipulation of
the nipple, which was growing harder.
"Come on, we want a song!" shouted Stephanie from the front seat.
Debbie started over. "Johnny used to work on the docks..."
Amber's right hand began to rub up and down Debbie's bare thigh. She kept
singing.
"Union pin or stripes he's done on his luck...."
Amber reached around with her left hand and started to tickle the underside of
her breast, while inching her right up until it reached her bald pussy.
"Oh, please, I can't do this!" Debbie wailed.
"Fine, then, little lesbo bitch," said Stephanie. "She doesn't want to sing for
us, Amber, so it's back to name-calling."
The flustered housewife knew this was just a horrible game to them, but maybe if
she got through the song she could at least have that small victory. She steeled
herself against the roaming, prodding hands of her mistress as she explored her
writhing naked body, and started again.
"Johnny used to work on the docks..."
She couldn't help herself. Amber's hand had drifted down to her pussy and she
had plunged a delicate long finger deep inside her. She hadn't realized she was
still slick with juice from all this excitement, and Amber's finger quickly slid
all the way in. The poor housewife's hormones started to flow. She could feel
herself starting to get horny as Amber pulled her finger out and plunged it back
in, finger-fucking the confused mother.
It's my only chance at self-respect with these fuckers, she thought to herself,
and began again. This time she got as far as the line "You got to hold on to
what you've got," when Amber leaned over and kissed her neck, right behind the
ear. No woman had ever kissed her there, and it sent a shiver of delight through
her pulsating body. She didn't cry out, but she stopped singing for an instant.
"Nope, doesn't count!" Stephanie called out from the front seat. "We said you
had to sing it perfectly."
Debbie started over. Amber's finger continued to frig in and out of her pussy,
making her feel better and better. Amber also continued to kiss her neck, which
felt incredibly good.
She had barely sung a few words when Amber placed her thumb against her clit and
began to rub.
"Ohhhhh, Mistress Amber, please, stop, stop, don't do this to me!" she cried
out. She felt so alone, so exposed, so humiliated. She was trying to just
complete one simple task, sing a song she knew well, and she couldn't even do
that. Her mind was confused, but her body wasn't. Every inch of her was
responding to the caresses and touches of her niece who had her pinned down in
the backseat.
"Johnny used to work," she started again. Amber let her sing, keeping her
touches light, till she got to the lines, "You've got to hold on to what you've
got," and then Amber bent her head down and placed her mouth over her erect
nipple and started to tongue it, while she pushed a second finger up inside her.
"Uhhhhhhh," Debbie moaned. Her head rolled back against the seat, her eyes
closed. She was lost in a delirium of overwhelming sexual desire.
"You want us to keep doing this?" whispered Stephanie.
"Oh, God, I don't know," moaned Debbie. "No. Don't. Stop."
"Don't stop?" asked Amber with a nasty smile. Her fingers were churning inside
the tormented woman, her thumb expertly manipulating her clit, which was now
pink and throbbing. Debbie's hips started rotating, almost without her knowing
it, as she thrust her pelvis forward into Amber's hand, while she continued
kissing her hard little nipples.
She had stopped even trying to sing her part. Her body had taken over, and she
was inching closer and closer to orgasm. She moaned, thrust her large firm
breasts out, humped her pussy frantically against Amber's fingers.
"Oh yes! Oh yes!" she cried out. She teetered on the verge of a powerful orgasm.
"Whoops, here we are!" called out Stephanie as she turned into the shopping
mall. "Time to look sharp."
Amber immediately pulled herself off of the writhing, humping housewife.
Debbie didn't know what had happened. One moment she had been on the brink of
cumming, then everything had stopped.
"Please?" she asked plaintively.
"Please what, auntie slut?" asked Stephanie, teasing.
"Please don't stop what you were doing," she said softly. If her hands hadn't
been cuffed behind her, Debbie thought, she would have finished herself off
right there in front of them. God, everything had felt so good. Her heart was
pounding, she was shaking and sweaty, she wanted to cum so damn bad!
"I don't think so," Stephanie ordered.
"Pleeeeeeese," begged Debbie.
"Let's hear what you want," Stephanie said briskly.
"I want to, you know," Debbie said. She knew they knew. She was beyond shame,
she decided. She had to cum.
"I want to have an orgasm," she begged. "Pleeeeeese Mistress!"
"Maybe later," Stephanie said coldly.
Debbie lifted her head and opened her eyes, and looked right into the lens of
the video camcorder. Stephanie, had a camcorder setup in the passenger seat of
the Suburban, and had been taping her the whole time.
"Smile," her niece mocked, "you're on Candid Camera."
Debbie wanted to cry.
"Amber, get those balls into her like we planned," Stephanie said. Amber reached
into a bag on the floor and pulled out a small box, extracting two small metal
objects slightly smaller than ping-pong balls.
"Here ya go, auntie slut, just so you don't get that empty feeling inside,"
Amber said, and pushed one ben-wa ball, then the other after it, up inside
Debbie's swollen, sopping wet pussy. They were cold, but strangely, Debbie
didn't mind. She was slowly getting used to having something inside her hot
pussy.
"Those will have a real interesting effect on you when you're walking around in
the mall," Stephanie said, as the girls laughed. Debbie didn't understand but
knew, with dread, that she would eventually.
"Let's help her get dressed," Amber added. Debbie was still horny and wanted to
cum so badly, but she had no choice, with her legs still trapped and her hands
cuffed. She wasn't going to be allowed to cum just yet, and she still had to
endure whatever they had planned for her in the mall.
She looked out the darkened SUV window and could see the bright light malls of
the mall in the distance.
"And just to remind you, you never did manage to sing the song all the way
through, you little slut-monkey," Stephanie mocked her from the front seat as
she stowed the camcorder in her shoulder bag.
"Yeah, stupid bitch," said Amber.
"This is gonna be a shopping trip you'll never forget, slut," Amber whispered in
her ear.
The housewife shuddered, partly from the lust that still boiled in her hard
pulsating body, partly from pure fear.
************************************************************************
"May I ask a question, please Mistress Stephanie?" she asked meekly as Amber
released her from the handcuffs, freeing her trapped arms."
"Sure thing, slut," said Stephanie.
"What are those things you put, uh, you know..." She couldn't bear to bring
herself to say where she meant. "You know, inside me," she finished."
"You mean stuffed up your little slutty pussy?" responded Stephanie. "Those are
ben-wa balls, slut. God, you really are such a stupid cunt! They're hollow metal
balls, partially filled with mercury. Women use them to masturbate. They fit
snugly up inside that cunt of yours, and when you walk, they shift their center
of gravity over and over, stimulating the inside of your pussy. The sensations,
I'm told, are quite delicious."
Debbie shuddered at the thought of these awful foreign objects inside her most
private place.
"The thing is, as I understand, a woman will usually sit in a rocking chair when
she has the ben-was in place and rock and play with her clit. The result is a
spectacular orgasm for the woman. For you, though, it's likely to be mostly just
an exercise in frustration, cause you're going to be walking around the mall.
You won't be able to finger yourself to get yourself off, although if you want
to, we probably won't stop you, so long as it's some place nice and public, like
the food court. Mainly, as we see it, you'll just be in a heightened state of
horniness for our little shopping trip."
Stephanie smiled diabolically. Debbie, stunned at how much trouble they were
going to, just looked down and bit her lip.
The girls helped her back into her clothes, all except for her panties, which
they told her she didn't need.
"Those 33-year-old tits are so perfectly perky you should never wear a bra,
slut," said Stephanie. "They'll get more bounce that way when you walk. Guys
like that!" Finally Debbie was dressed and they all got out of the SUV. She
realized she had no idea where they were, that during the long ride of torment
she had been paying attention to what was being done to her in the backseat
rather than where they were going.
"Where are we Mistress?" she asked.
"This is Northside Mall," said Amber. "About 30 miles away from town. We figured
there's a lot less chance of being spotted and recognized here than if we went
to the mall back in town. Last thing any of us needs is to be spotted hanging
around with the world's nastiest slut, particularly when she's doing what you're
going to be doing here at Northside."
"Please, Mistress, I'm begging you, can we just go home?" Debbie implored. She
was trembling with anxiety, and still a little lust from being brought so close
to orgasm by Amber and then stopped right before her climax.
"Of course not, bitch. We've gone to a lot of trouble to set this up," said
Stephanie. "Now listen carefully, because once we get inside, I don't want to
have to be repeating these directions for you over and over. You can make this
simple, or you can make this complicated. The simple way is you do exactly what
we say for the next hour, no questions, no tears, no trying to alert mall
security, and after an hour, we go home. The hard way is you give us any shit,
or fail to follow our instructions precisely. If that's the case, then we start
to send out the video. We'll probably be able to add a few more minutes onto the
video with the great footage you just provided on the way over her.
"You understand so far?"
"Yes Mistress Stephanie," Debbie said quietly.
"So you're going to get yourself some new clothes today, stuff you can wear from
now on. Here's how it will work. We'll see something in a store window and tell
you what we want you to get. You go into the store, and one or both of us will
go in with you, but we will pretend like we're not together. You don't
acknowledge us, we don't acknowledge you. But we'll be keeping an eye on you to
make sure you keep our deal. You try on the item or items and make sure they
fit. Whether you like them or not is irrelevant. If we're doing our job, you'll
probably hate 'em, but tough shit. You take them to the cashier, who we'll have
scoped out in advance, and who will be male. Tell him you want to buy this,
but you don't have any money, and could you pay for it instead with a blow job."
Stephanie paused to watch her reaction.
The color drained from Debbie's beautiful face. "What?" she shrieked, forgetting
where she was. "I can't! I won't! I'll scream for help!" They were asking her to
offer oral sex to strange men in a shopping mall.
"You scream for help, auntie slut," said Amber, "and out go the tapes, complete
with name, address and phone number. By the way, isn't Brett up for a promotion
at work? We better make sure we add his boss, and his bosses boss, to the list
of recipients.
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" shouted Debbie, holding her hands over her ears as if she
could block out the torture. "I'll do it, I'll do it!"
"That a girl," said Stephanie. "So as I was saying, you offer the clerk or the
cashier or whoever the blowjob. Maybe there's a backroom you can use, maybe a
dressing room, maybe you have to go to the mall men's room and find a stall.
Picture that. Auntie Debbie, the cock-teasing queen, down on her bare knees on a
men's room floor, swallowing a stranger's jism. It will certainly be in your
best interest, once you get started, to make it nice and quick. Suck his cock,
swallow his cum, and meet back up with us.
"Simple as that," concluded Stephanie.
Debbie could barely speak. She started to hyperventilate in panic and outrage.
She wanted to cry, or run, or kill these girls. None of those was an option. Her
only option was to do as they told her.
"Give me your purse," ordered Amber. She took the housewife's purse and gave it
to
Stephanie, who stuffed it into her shoulder bag with the video camera. "Now you
have no money, no charge cards, no ID. You're not Debbie S., spoiled little
housewife any more. You're the Blowjob Queen of Northside Mall.
"Let's go," said Stephanie jauntily, and Debbie and her nieces walked to the
mall. Almost immediately, the sexy housewife felt the ben-wa balls start to move
in her pussy. It was a strange sensation, really rather pleasant. She was still
wet from her masturbation session and then the finger-fucking in the back of the
Suburban, and the slick balls slipped and tumbled inside of her.
Their first stop in the mall was an upscale shoe store. Stephanie, who was
clearly running the show tonight, told her to stop, and the housewife and her
nieces all looked in the window.
"I kinda like that pair there," said Amber, pointing to a pair of sexy black
open-toed pumps with 5-inch stiletto heels. The price tag in front of them read
$79.95.
"Nice choice, Amber," said Stephanie. "But do you think a blowjob even from a
stone-fuckin' fox like Miss Daniels here is worth $80?" There was no one else
standing nearby, and the girls were talking about her like she was some sort of
street prostitute! Debbie burned with shame.
"Oh, easily," said Amber. "I'm sure she lacks a certain expertise, but just look
at those lips.
"OK," said Stephanie, turning to Debbie. "Go in there and get those shoes. You
know
what to do. We'll be watching you. And do exactly as you've been told, or the
whole world gets a special video treat starting tomorrow."
The housewife swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like lead. She walked into the
shoe store, still feeling the metal balls churning and churning inside her
pussy.
"Hi, excuse me," she said to the salesman. He was a middle-aged man: a little
dumpy, dressed in polyester, no wedding ring. His pin on name tag said Jim.
"May I help you, miss?" His eyes glittered as he took in the ravishing housewife
before him.
"I'd like to try on that, uh, pair of shoes in the window," Debbie said
nervously, pointing.
After Debbie gave her size, the clerk went to get a pair from the window, and
she sat down. Stephanie and Amber had entered the shoe store and were standing
at a display, pretending to be engrossed.
Jim returned with the shoes and tried them on her feet. Debbie stood up - Whoa!
They were by far the tallest heels she had ever had on. She swayed precariously
and grabbed the clerk's shoulder for balance. He grinned and quickly slipped his
arm around her waist, as if to steady her, but actually just to brush up against
that firm hot flesh.
"Take a few steps and see how you like them," the clerk said. He was so
engrossed in Debbie that he hadn't even noticed the two other "customers."
Debbie took a few wobbling steps. Normally a petite five foot, she felt like an
Amazon in the shoes. She could feel the muscles in her legs moving differently
than they ever had before, stretching and pulling, and she also felt the ben-wa
balls inside of her moving in a more stimulating way. The heels changed the way
she walked, she realized, causing her to thrust her pelvis out, arch her back to
maintain her balance. She was starting to walk more like a provocative slut and
less like the normal housewife she still desperately wanted to remain.
As she wobbled around the store, getting used to the high heels, her large,
lovely breasts bounced more than usual in her tank top. Freed of their bra, the
nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric and the stimulation began to make them
erect. Soon her nipples were poking straight out through the shirt, with no bra
to hold them back. All the while, the ben-wa balls stuffed up inside her rolled
and rolled, a constant reminder of her horniness.
She walked back to Jim and spoke to him in a low voice. "Can I talk to you
privately, please?" she whispered.
Jeez, thought Jim, what's up with this chick? The middle-aged clerk saw her
nipples poking out, obviously braless, and now she was coming on all
husky-voiced. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the back of the
store, with Debbie hobbling and wobbling along, trying to keep up.
"I, uh, mister, uh," she stammered. She could barely make herself speak the
unspeakable words. But her two tormentors were still in the store, stealing
covert glances at her, and she knew what the penalty would be if she didn't
follow through: not just humiliation in front of her friends and family, but
Internet postings of her name and address that could get her stalked and raped.
The beleaguered housewife forced herself to do what she must. "I don't have
money for these shoes, but I really want them," she blurted out. "If you'll let
me have them, I'll, uh, you know..." She stopped again.
"No, I don't know," said Jim, but his cock was beginning to get an idea. It
stirred in his slacks. What was this little slut up to?
"I'll, uh, make you cum."
"Yes!" thought Jim. "Thank you Jesus!"
"I think we can work something out," said Jim. "Excuse me, ladies," he shouted
at the two girls hovering in the front of the store. "I have to close up for a
few minutes. Out ya go!"
Stephanie and Amber exchanged smiles and willingly left. Jim slid the glass
front of the store closed and locked it.
"I'm all yours, little lady," he leered. "Now more specifically, what did you
have in mind?"
"Can we go in the back room?" Debbie said quietly, close to tears.
Jim steered the trembling housewife into a backroom, and unbuckled his belt. His
pants fell to his ankles, and Debbie could see the outline of his erection
throbbing in his jockeys.
Debbie took a deep breath. She could either drag this out and take all night, or
get it over with and get home, safe in her own bed. There was only one way out.
She dropped to her knees in front of the clerk, pulled his shorts down, and
engulfed his cock in her warm mouth.
"Oh yeah, baby, suck that rod," the salesman said. "You can have all the shoes
you want anytime you want, baby."
It didn't take long for Debbie to figure out what to do. The salesman held the
sides of her
head and started sliding his cock in and out of her mouth.
"Use your tongue, baby, and lick the underside," he ordered. She did, running
her pink tongue along the bottom of his shaft and then around its thick purple
head.
"Oh yeah, baby, that's it."
Debbie felt the cock moving in and out, sometimes pushing so far into her mouth
that she almost gagged. She didn't even think to use her hands, and it didn't
occur to Jim to tell her, because it wasn't necessary. Jim had had three
blowjobs in his entire life, and all three of those from hookers, and to have a
sexy wife and mother come into his store, drop to her knees and start sucking
him off was beyond his wildest sexual fantasy. He felt the sperm building in his
balls.
On her end, Debbie felt the head of Jim's cock start to swell. He was pushing in
harder and faster now, and his grip on her head tightened. Her knees hurt from
the concrete storeroom floor, and her humiliation knew no bounds. She wished the
earth would swallow her whole.
"Here it comes, slut!" shouted Jim, and suddenly the cock in her mouth erupted,
shooting stream after stream of thick white jism onto her tongue and straight
down her throat. She started to spit it out, but remembered somehow in the back
of her mind her orders were to swallow, so she started gulping.
It had been more than a week since Jim had masturbated, and he had a huge
reserve of salty semen for the kneeling housewife. She swallowed over and over,
eight, nine, ten times, and finally Jim's cock was quiet.
She arose from her kneeling position awkwardly, stood again on the high heels.
Jim pulled his pants back up.
"Could I interest you in another pair of shoes?" he asked with big grin.
"God no!" Debbie blurted. Now that she had followed her orders, she wanted to
get out of the shoe store so badly she could scream. She walked quickly toward
the front of the store and Jim, reluctantly, let her out. As he watched her walk
away, he wondered if this was where those letters to the editors of Penthouse
came from. And here all along he thought they were made up!
************************************************************************
As soon as Debbie left the shoe store, Stephanie fell in right beside her.
"I see you got the shoes," she noted with approval. "Nice job. Now let me smell
your breath."
Debbie was too dazed and befuddled with all the demands and orders that she
didn't even pause to wonder about the strange request. She opened her mouth and
exhaled.
"Ah yes, the smell of cum in a slut's mouth," Stephanie said quietly. "Nothing
like it."
Debbie had no idea what her niece was talking about. She just wanted to get this
horrible trip to the mall over with.
Just then Amber joined them. "I found some nice clothes over at the Gap," said
Amber as the three walked along.
"Lead on," said Stephanie, and soon Debbie found herself walking into the Gap.
"There's a pile of clothes I gathered up in the far right rear corner," Amber
whispered to her. "There's six items. Take the black skirt off the top, try it
on in the dressing room, and wear it out. Get the other clothes and find the
clerk named Ralph. Make him your offer."
Debbie found the pile right where Amber had assembled them, took them into a
dressing room and stripped it off her skirt. She pulled out the black skirt and
was puzzled - surely it was way too small! Her hips were not wide, but they were
certainly voluptuous and full. No way she would fit into this!~
She pulled the skirt up and found it was made of Spandex, and stretched to fit.
She tugged it over her thighs, up to her waist. Jeez, this sucker was tight! But
finally it was in place.
The black Spandex skirt was a micro-mini. When Debbie looked in the dressing
room mirror, she couldn't believe her eyes. It clung to her like a large black
rubber band. That's practically what it was, anyway. It came down to just two
inches below her crotch, and the bottom moons of the cheeks of her ass were half
an inch away from being plainly visible.
Still, she knew what she had to do. She pulled the black high-heeled pumps back
on, gathered up her old jeans and the other new clothes and went off to find
Ralph.
"Just get through this, just get through this," she kept telling herself.
Every person in the Gap stopped what they were doing and stared at the stunning
housewife as she strolled through the store. Inside her white tank top, her
unfettered breasts bounced freely, showing off the hint of darkness around each
nipple. The micro-mini clung to her ass and crotch as it if was spray-painted
on. Her long bare legs were tanned and magnificent. And the high heels made her
walk with a hooker's strut, rolling her hips and pelvis. (What no observer could
see were the ben-wa balls turning and churning inside Debbie's pussy, ratcheting
up her awareness of her own sexuality with every step). She looked like she was
auditioning for a Penthouse video.
"Yo, babe, check it out. Nice walk!" called a black teenager. Debbie ignored
him. When she approached the check-out counter, she spied the clerk named Ralph.
This one was much younger than her, maybe about 18, and not bad-looking. He wore
khakis and a polo shirt, and was decent enough looking.
"Hi," she said. "I need to talk to you privately for a minute."
"Sure thing, ma'am" said the boy. Debbie's stomach fluttered a bit. He had a
sexy voice, and kind eyes, and she was horny, and she knew what she was going to
do to this boy in just a few minutes, and that thought, somehow, made her
hornier. What had been sick and disgusting back with the shoe store clerk was
now seeming not so terrible. If only she could get off too! But that would take
more time, and more explaining, and she couldn't imagine what she would tell the
boy about the metal balls inside her.
"I want to get that stack of clothes I left up on the counter," she told Ralph
once they were in a corner, "but I, uh, my purse was stolen." She didn't know
why she lied, she just wanted to think of some way to save face. "So maybe I
could do something real nice for you in exchange for the clothes."
Ralph looked the sweet housewife up and down. He knew he would get fired if he
was caught, and he wasn't sure what she had in mind, but he had to find out.
"There's an employee men's room in the back," he said. "Follow me." He marched
through a curtain and Debbie followed him into the men's room, where he turned
and locked the door from the inside.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ralph asked.
"No, but I have to," Debbie answered honestly.
"You don't have to do anything," Ralph said. "If you want to trade clothes for
sex, I won't say no, but wouldn't it be nicer if we went somewhere and made love
properly? Then you could come back and I'd give you some clothes. I mean, this
is kinda tacky," he concluded, gesturing at the squalidness of the men's room.
"I know," said Debbie. Her mind was reeling. This boy was actually very nice. He
said things like "make love" where all the other men just talked about sucking
their cocks. She knew Stephanie and Amber would be waiting outside, waiting to
smell her breath and degrade and debase her further. She steeled herself,
reached out a hand and unzipped Ralph's khakis.
"I'd love to chat," she said, trying to sound nice, "but right now I just have
to give you a blow job."
Ralph had tried to do the right thing, but he was, after all, a teenage boy,
with a hot woman squatting down and unzipping his fly and pulling his dick out
with her tender fingers. He sprang to life, hard as a steel bar, and knew he
wasn't going to be offering this little slut any more alternatives.
Debbie leaned forward and placed her lips around the head of Ralph's prick.
"Ohmigod!" the boy moaned softly. "You are so sexy!"
Pleased at the compliment, Debbie reached a hand into his open fly and began to
fondle his balls. Although the ben-wa balls were stationary, her pussy was
suddenly leaking a trickle of juice than ran down her thigh. Her clit was
throbbing, and she thought about reaching down with her other hand, and
masturbating while she sucked the teenaged boy. But she forced herself to focus.
Even though this was much nicer than her previous blow jobs, the goal was to get
the event over with.
The blonde housewife pulled her mouth off the engorged dick, then stuck her
tongue out and swirled it over and over the head. Ralph moaned and leaned back
against the bathroom wall. Debbie leaned forward, her gorgeous red lips open
wide, and ran her mouth all the way down onto his cock as far as she could
manage. His kinky pubic hairs tickled her nose. She pulled back, then started
bobbing her head up and down, faster and and faster. Her hand seemed to be on
automatic pilot, rolling his testicles around in his scrotum. She could feel
them start to inch upward and his scrotum tighten as his orgasm approached.
"Oh yes, ohhhhh yes," the boy moaned. Debbie's pussy spasmed slightly. She was
so
damned turned on. She had never been this horny in her life. She reached down
with her free hand without even thinking, and started rubbing her exposed pink
clit with two fingers.
Suddenly, Ralph's cock exploded into her mouth, pulsing out wave after wave of
hot boy semen. She started swallowing dutifully, and kept working her clit,
faster and faster, approaching her own climax.
Sated, Ralph pulled his cock from the girl's hot mouth with a "pop" as the
suction of her lips was broken. The blowjob was over, but she still hadn't cum!
Without the cock in her mouth, she was suddenly very aware of who she was and
what she was doing: squatting on a men's room floor masturbating furiously in
front of a total stranger! My God, she thought, what was happening to her. She
pulled her hand away from her sopping wet crotch, and the spell was completely
broken. She had once again come so close to an orgasm, only to fall short.
Ralph was zipping up his pants. There was nothing for Debbie to do but stand up
and smile, weakly.
"Thank you, thank you thank you," blabbed the lucky Gap clerk. Boy, would he
have
some story to tell his friends! He wished he had a Polaroid camera to take a
picture of this vision of loveliness, dressed like a total whore, standing in
front of him with a tiny dribble of his semen at the the corner of her mouth.
"You're welcome," was all Debbie could manage as her well-bred manners
automatically took over.
"Can I have your phone number?" Ralph asked. "I could call you..."
Debbie thought it was wonderful that he was still acting as if they had met in
the food court after a basketball game, but she was in enough trouble and wasn't
about to give her number to a boy who thought she gave out blow jobs all the
time. She declined, scooped up the clothes, stuffed them in a large Gap bag that
had been left in the restroom and beat it out of there without even saying
goodbye.
Ralph stood forlornly and watched her go.
Click click click went Debbie's heels as she walked quickly along the tile floor
of the mall. Swish swish went the round globes of her ass under the tight black
mini, back and forth, mesmerizing every male in the mall. She saw Amber coming
toward her. She smiled when he saw the Gap bag in her hand.
"Well done, little slut. By the way, in case you didn't have time to have a
proper conversation with young Ralph, he's on the baketball team of the local
high school." She smiled a toothy grin.
Amber told her to walk on ahead until she met Stephanie, who would direct her to
her next store. That store turned out to be The Rave, and this time Stephanie
walked right in with her. Debbie had never been in this kind of store, which
sold hippie young clothes, punk garb, Goth stuff, some surfer garb. Heavy metal
played loudly on the stereo, and black light posters of skulls, bare-breasted
witches and cartoon dogs fucking hung on the walls. A glass case along one wall
contained bongs, buttons with sayings like "Cure Virginity," temporary Harley
tattoos. It wasn't really a rough place, it was just for suburban wannabes, kids
who didn't have the guts to get a real tattoo but would get one that would come
off in a week.
It was still enough to scare Debbie, who was more used to shopping at stores
like Lerner's.
"In here, no one will think it's weird if we're together," Stephanie was saying
as she put her arm around her shoulder. "You're my girlfriend, if anyone even
cares to ask. We'll pick out some clothes, and then I'll let you arrange
payment." He chuckled.
Stephanie led her to a stack of halter tops. He picked one that said "Porn Star"
across the front in glitter letters. Another said "Stop Looking at My Tits!" One
had no words, but was white and so sheer it was almost transparent. She might as
well wrap Saran Wrap around her tits, Debbie thought. Stephanie put them all in
a pile for "purchase," then found what he was looking for and said "A ha!"
The halter was black, like her shoes and her skirt, and across the front, in
large silver script, it read: "JUST DO ME." Underneath was a Nike swoosh. It
probably broke all kinds of counterfeiting laws, but The Rave staff didn't care
much about such niceties.
"This is the one I want you to wear the rest of the night," Stephanie told the
frightened housewife.
"Do they have it in a bigger size?" she asked. "I think that one will be too
small."
"Nonsense," said Stephanie. "Here, let's try it on."
"You mean in the dressing room?"
"No, I mean right here, my little video star." Stephanie turned to the man
behind the counter. "Hey, dude, you mind if my girlfriend here tries on a halter
top without using a dressing room?" she said in a voice loud enough for everyone
in the store to hear.
The guy behind the counter was large and hefty, a beefy guy who looked like a
biker even though he wasn't. He had a handlebar moustache and long black hair
tied back in a ponytail, and the sleeves of his black T-shirt were cut off,
showing off his muscles. His right bicep bore the tattoo "Pretty Fucking
Dangerous" under a skull smoking a cigarette.
"Knock yourself out," he said with a big smile.
"Please don't make do this," Debbie begged. She tried to make herself look sweet
and vulnerable and pitiful to her niece.
"I'll make you a deal," she said. "If you try on the halter right here where
you're standing, I'll let you off the hook with blowing Mr. Dangerous over
there. I'm a little worried about him. He looks like the kind of guy who might
really hurt you, might want to slap you around a little if he has you alone in
back. He might even have a knife and want to cut you a little." Stephanie was
laying it on thick, terrifying her already frightened aunt, whose trembling had
started again.
Debbie was about to pee on the floor she was so scared. Stephanie was right, the
biker behind the counter did look very mean indeed. If Stephanie left her alone
in the store and she had to offer him a blow job, it might be a much uglier
experience than dorky Jim in the shoe store or sweet Ralph at the Gap.
"You mean I have to be p-p-partially naked right here in the store?" she
stammered.
"Yup, and you'd better get moving, little video star, or I'll walk over there to
Mr. Dangerous and tell him what he's about to get in five minutes. Once he
focuses on getting his dick in your mouth, there won't be anything either one of
us can do." Stephanie was playing her aunt like a violin.
Debbie felt sick, but knew she had no choice. She glanced around nervously and
started to move behind a display.
Stephanie stopped her. "Right there where you're standing," she ordered. "If you
get to skip a blow job, I need to have a fair trade- off."
"Better get busy pulling off that top," Stephanie told her. "And smile, slut.
Don't think of it as showing off those pretty tits of yours. Think of it as
avoiding a nasty encounter with Mr. Dangerous back there."
Debbie swallowed hard. The room seemed to be wavering. She knew what she had to
do, and began pulling up her tank top. When the tank top was pulled up over her
tits, she reached out to the halter top Stephanie was holding. Stephanie stepped
back out of her reach.
"No, first the shirt comes all the way off. Lay it on the floor, and then ask me
politely for the top."
Debbie cursed her under her breath, then slid the top over her shoulder and down
her arms. It fell to the floor, and the 33-year-old housewife was standing naked
from the waist up in the middle of the store.
She realized the store was utterly quiet. Two teenage girls who had been looking
through the clothes and stopped and were staring at her. The ugly man behind the
counter was ogling her magnificent tits too, and from somewhere in the back, two
teenaged boys had appeared and started pointing and nudging each other. The poor
woman wanted to die.
Debbie instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.
"Hands at your sides, Debbie. Get 'em there this second, or I'll ask some of
these guys to come over and hold them there."
With that, the tattooed man bounded out from behind the counter and was at
Debbie's side even before she could obey. "You need some help here, boss?" he
asked. "Little lady causing you problems?"
"I don''t know," Stephanie answered. "Are you causing me problems, Debbie? Do we
need this gentleman to assist us?" The burly man towered over Debbie and stared
straight at her cleavage.
"No, Mistress," Debbie said, and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. Her 36-D
breasts, capped with the beautiful pink nipples, were on display for all the
world to see.
"Oh, man!" said one of the teen boys in a voice louder than he intended. "Check
out that rack! Jesus Christ!"
"Please, Mistress, may I have the top?" Debbie said, her voice steely. It was
taking all her will power not to run screaming from the store.
"Let's ask our salesperson," Stephanie said, taunting the girl. "Do you think
she'll look good in this?" She held up the black "JUST DO ME" halter.
"I don't know," said the man, playing along with the game. He wasn't sure what
kind of weird shit these people were into, but he was willing to see where it
went. "It's kind of small, and those tits of hers are awfully big."
"How big are they, Debbie?" Stephanie asked.
"Please, please, please, Mistress," the desperate housewife begged. "Can I just
have the top?"
"Not until we find out how big your tits are," Stephanie replied. "What's your
bra size, slut? We need to know to make sure we get this fitting right."
"36D , goddamn it!" Debbie spat.
"Yup, they look about that size," said Stephanie. "Here, you can have the top,
but since this gentleman works here, I think maybe he ought to help you into it.
And that's the only condition in which you can have the top."
Debbie started to shiver. It was cold in the store, and her nipples were getting
hard. The metal head music blared, and the teen boys were now giggling like
Beavis and Butthead. The two girls had crept closer as well, and the customers
formed a ring around Debbie, staring and pointing. She knew she had to do
whatever Stephanie said or he would just keep her standing here with everyone
staring at her naked breasts.
"OK," Debbie said softly.
"OK what?" Stephanie asked.
"OK Mistress, he can help me try it on."
"Ask him," Stephanie ordered.
"Would you please help me try this halter top on?" she said to the ugly biker.
"Oh, one more thing, Debbie," Stephanie said nonchalantly. "To make sure we get
the best fit, I want you to take a real breath and hold it till I tell you to
let it out."
Debbie knew what the sadistic teenager was doing, but had no choice. She inhaled
a lungful of air, which caused her to stomach to flatten in and her chest to
stick out even more. It looked as if she was deliberately flaunting her
fantastic bare tits at the customers in the store.
Mr Dangerous grinned, and Stephanie handed him the JUST DO ME top.
At the entrance to The Rave, Amber was capturing the whole scene on video.
The biker held the tiny top in his meaty paw and eyeballed the scared,
half-naked housewife standing in the middle of his store. He slowly untied the
two sets of strings on the back, taking his time. The four other teenagers in
the store just stared. It felt as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting
for the next move in the strange little drama of dominance and submission.
Mr. Dangerous laid the halter down over the tops of Debbie's beautifully jutting
breasts, then stepped behind her and pulled the two strings that tied around the
back of her neck. Although her breasts were now partially covered, the pink
nipples, stiff with cold and fear, still poked out for all to see. She wanted
more than anything in the world to cover them, but knew she had to keep her
hands obediently at her sides, or else the whole process would be dragged out
even longer.
The clerk took hold of the bottom of the halter and pulled it gently down over
her breasts, brushing the hairy backs of his hands over her nibbles as he
covered them. The top came down a little below her nipples, but still left
sweet-looking half-moons of tit flesh hanging out below.
"Doesn't look like it's gonna cover 'em up, boss," he said to Stephanie. "These
titties are just too big." Debbie was mortified.
"Let's keep trying, maybe we can make it work," Stephanie replied. Dangerous
pulled the second set of strings behind Debbie's bare back and tied them there.
"OK, you can exhale, Debbie," said Stephanie. She did, but even as her body
regained its usual shape, it was apparent to all in the store that the halter
top just barely covered her. In addition to the breast meat that hung out the
bottom, she was flashing as much cleavage as if she was wearing a Wonderbra, and
only a Wonderbra. The small amount of black fabric that covered the middles of
her breasts and the still-erect nipples was stretched extremely tight, and the
logo JUST DO ME was slightly distorted, but still readable.
"What do you think?" Stephanie asked the burly clerk.
"Well, I liked her better with her tits hanging out," he answered honestly, and
the teen boys watching nodded furiously in agreement, still speechless. "But it
does make her look pretty fuckin' hot, I gotta say that."
"Debbie, do you think you look pretty fuckin' hot?" Stephanie asked.
The tormented housewife didn't know what she was supposed to answer. She decided
the best course was to quickly agree with everything, just to get the ordeal
over with. "Yes Mistress," she whimpered meekly.
"I'm worried that when you leave the store and start bouncing through the mall,
your tits are gonna pop right out of that top," Stephanie told her. "So hold
your arms very firmly against your sides." Debbie did so, and the effect was to
push her bosoms out even more, accentuating the cleavage.
"Very good," Stephanie said. "And since you have your arms holding the sides of
your
new halter in place, you won't be needing this." And she deftly reached around
and
untied the strings stretched across her back. Debbie instantly knew that she had
to keep her arms locked at her sides, that any release in the pressure on the
sides of the halter would probably cause it to pop right off her chest, so tight
was the fit.
"Tell you what," Stephanie said to the tattooed clerk. "How about giving us the
halter in exchange for the little show we put on?" There was no disagreement,
only a big grin and a nod.
"So, let's go, sweetie," Stephanie said, and guided Debbie by the elbow toward
the entrance, where she saw her niece clicking off the video camera that had
captured the entire humiliating display.
As the near naked housewife walked out of the store and into the mall, she
realized how vulnerable she was. The high heels made her walk unsteady. The
ben-wa balls began slooshing around again inside her wet horny pussy, sending
wonderful erotic messages throughout her confused body. She had to keep her arms
locked down at her sides as she walked. From behind, she was naked from the neck
to her ankles, except for the micro- mini skirt that clung tightly to her hips.
From the front, she had a little more covering, but was advertising herself as
the biggest slut in the world with the JUST DO ME logo on her shirt. It was all
she could do to keep walking, and yet she knew that was her only hope of
eventually getting out of the mall.
"One final touch, bitch-baby, and then we're done here and ready to go home,"
Amber told her. As she pulled her into a small alcove of pay phones that was
fortunately empty. She reached into a Spenser's Gifts bag and pulled out a
plastic tiara, the kind little girls would wear for dress- up. It was silver and
crusted with cheap rhinestones, and the plastic had been molded in front to
spell out the word "PRINCESS."
"Since you think you're such a princess," Amber told her aunt, "We thought we
should make it official." She put the tiara on Debbie's head, adjusted it, and
tucked its clips into her hair. Somehow the tiara was the worst touch of all to
Debbie . The slutty clothing was at least a coherent ensemble, but the tiara was
like a sick joke, and just called even more attention to her, if that was
possible.
"You can take a stroll up the length of the mall and back again, by yourself,"
Amber told her, "and then we'll take you back home." She pulled out the video
camera. "And make it look like you're enjoying yourself. We're not quite done
with our day yet; there's more to come when we get back home. If you put on a
good show here at the mall, maybe we'll go a little easy on you when we get
back. But if you look like you're miserable, we'll just have to think of some
more things to do. Think we can come up with any, Stephanie?" she asked.
"Oh, I got a little mental list," whispered Stephanie. " A looooong mental
list."
"Get going, auntie slut," Amber said, and slapped Debbie hard on her
Spandex-covered
ass. She took a few wobbly steps out into the mall.
Once she got going, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. At least it wasn't a
rainy Saturday afternoon, she told herself, when the mall would have been
packed. Or at least it was the Preston Mall at home, where she couldn't avoid
running into friends and neighbors. As she walked, the balls in her pussy worked
their magic, turning and churning, upping her lust level with every step. She
tuned out her surroundings and barely saw the middle aged men who stopped in
their tracks to stare, the boys from The Rave who had hooked up with some
friends and were trailing her every step a few yards back, the disapproving
stares of the women who saw only a cheap slut strutting around, offering her
nubile body to every man. Amber got the whole thing on video, even the cutaways
to the onlookers.
Finally she was finished with her long walk. The whole trip to the mall had only
taken an hour, but it seemed like an eternity to the poor housewife. She
wondered how much more abuse she could take from these girls, and whether it
would get worse.
The girls had carefully timed the day's events, and knew that if they left the
mall now, and drove quickly back home, they'd have about a half hour before the
kids were due home from school.
To be continued... If you have any story line ideas for future chapters, or
would like to comment on the story please e-mail me at wifefantasy@hotmail.com.
