16 comments/  51163 views/  32 favorites

Into the Curiosity Shop

By: bloodsugarsxmagic



Chapter 1



Christopher had opened the store two years ago after a successful run at a software company. His friends thought he was crazy for opening a sex shop, but he told them it would be different - in a decent part of town, well lit, friendly.

He wanted to people to feel comfortable in the store, and he liked to consider it "upscale" in the sense it was tastefully decorated. He had everything from basic sex toys to very high end erotic costumes, latex, leather, boots and literature.

There was a young woman who lately kept eyeing the store on her way to school. He guessed she was still in high school by the uniform. There was something about her he couldn't get out of his head. She looked the clean cut type, all-American girl, but she was definitely very, very curious about the contents of the shop.



Alison was only allowed to walk in respectable parts of the city, per orders from her parents, who were not particularly keen on her walking at all. She found there was little of interest to find in those neighborhoods, though she still preferred it to the monotonous bus ride or subway travel. And so she always got off stops away from her home so she could travel a few blocks and experience the city.

But there was one route she found she took every day. It held the one shining dark pearl of interest on her walk, in her day, maybe in her life. It was like something you couldn't help coming back to, an itch that was polished by your touch. A shop that hinted at things she didn't know about, but felt instead. 

Today as usual, Alison slowed as she reached its window front. She was dressed as any girl at her school, in a tartan skirt, dark gray tights, a white blouse with no neckline at all. Being as school was out, the sleeves were rolled up, revealing her dark skinned arms, and her hair pinned up in a messy bunch with two sticks. Her low-heeled shoes clicked slower as she gazed into the window, intrigued by what she saw and what she knew she wasn't seeing.

Christopher didn't usually open the store until 4, but he liked to get in earlier to review the inventory. He simply didn't get much traffic during the day, and he didn't mind the evening hours and in fact had employees to manage the store late into the night. Today he noticed the school girl again, walking even more slowly than usual. He considered his attire for the day, jeans and a white button-down Brooks Brothers shirt. What was it about her? He felt guilty for even thinking sexual thoughts about her, guessing that she was about 18. At 42, he was old enough to be her father. Still, what was the harm in saying hello to a pretty girl standing outside your store? He opened the door as she approached, and in his warmest, friendliest smile said, "Hi there."

Alison jumped as the latch opened, her heart suddenly racing, fear in her stomach as if she had just been caught at something. Her reverie broken, she turned from the window and looked at the man standing in the doorway. The dark passion his window had stirred in her was still visible in her eyes, a brief window into her soul before she gathered herself. Blushing she smiled nervously. "Hi," she muttered and ducked her head, ready to move away.

"You'd be surprised you know," he said, the smile in his voice trying to wash out any hint of aggressiveness.

She only took one step before he spoke. What did that mean, she asked herself, stopping and turning to him once more, first seeing her reflection in the storefront window. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked politely, sounding like the high school queen she was.

"I can guess what you think it's like inside. And I can guarantee you it's not that." He liked her poise, confidence, but something about her vulnerability too. He could tell her curiosity was strong. "I used to run a software company, believe it or not," he said, appealing to her sense of ambition. She's probably a straight A student. "Started this store as a hobby, and now do quite well. We don't open for another hour, but I'd be happy to show you what's inside. You'd be the only customer - the whole place to yourself." 

She wondered at first why he was speaking to her. But a look into his eyes and she remembered, remembered seeing him before, through the window. Her face grew hot as she realized he must have seen her looking before, noticed her. What must he think of her? Alison opened her mouth to brush him off but something stayed the words. He already knew, he already knew who she was, that she was the type to look in his windows, day after day. And here it was, her chance to step into that world that had been pulling on her for years. Before even she knew about this store. "Okay," she answered in a small but steady voice and she felt things click as if she had just switched tracks, or crossed a chasm.

"Great," he said warmly, and though he'd been confident he would get her into the store eventually, was pleasantly surprised to hook her on the first try. "I'm Christopher," he said looking directly into her pretty eyes and extending his hand. She was polite and well mannered and would expect a handshake. God, she was beautiful. From inside the store, through the glass, he could tell she was pretty, but this close she was stunning, without a stitch of makeup on. She smelled clean and natural, more soap than perfume. "Come on in."



His pleasant, polite response both reassured and worried her. It suddenly seemed so normal, so pedestrian as she shook his hand and readied to walk into the store. The door, well, no the window, had always seemed like a dark portal, partly mirrored, into something fantastic. She knew the something was really dark and fantastic deep in her own mind, but all the same. To shake hands and step into it like this . . . "I'm Alison," she answered him, perhaps more honestly than she should have. Her eyes glanced away at the street, wondering if anyone was watching this exchange, and what they would make of it.

He opened the door and followed her into the store. "Alison, this is probably a whole new world for you. Keep your mind open to possibilities. I've found that my customers are some of the most intelligent, creative people I've ever met. They might have a different perspective on things, but it's just different, not good or bad. Now -- my apologies for the lecture. I'm going to let you explore for a while. Take a look around and then ask me anything you'd like. Ok?"

Into the rabbit hole, the phrase came to her mind unwittingly as she stepped into the dimmer interior. While the tinted windows kept out the bright sun, she was surprised to see it was rather well lit inside, clean, spacious, not at all sleazy. As long as you ignored the displays, the objects, the artwork. Alison froze a few steps in, her heart racing, hearing the door close behind her, knowing that they were alone, the two of them in this world. She really didn't listen to his lecture, only to the tone of his words. She avoided looking at him at first as she stepped, in her school uniform, past some displays, glancing inside.

The angle of her upper body, leaning forward from the waist but her feet behind her, reminded him of some Disney adaptation of a fairy tale from his youth. He couldn't remember which, but thought, she does look like a princess. The act of leaning forward also revealed a certain athleticism he hadn't seen before, and without her looking he imagined what her body must be like under that uniform. "Go ahead, don't worry . . . it's just you in here . . . no one will see you."



She glanced at him at the sound of his voice, her dark eyes meeting his and then looking away. She realized what she had been doing and laughing nervously stepped into the shop some distance, glancing around to either side. No one will see me, I should be worried about that, one voice inside told her. And it wasn't that she had no concerns about the man. Look what he did for work. She knew she really was not worried because she wasn't sure she didn't want him to do something. Isn't this what this was all about, that there was something in her that had drawn her here, that she couldn't tell anyone else about. "Will you show me your wares?" she asked politely, turning those dark eyes back on him.

He could see from the rising and falling of her chest that she was breathing a little heavier, and her cheeks were flushed. He suddenly wondered if she'd ever had sex, if she'd watched porn, if she masturbated. He hadn't really thought about her in that way before, that level of detail, but he pondered these things as he watched her, and felt his own pulse quickening, remembering an Updike quote from Rabbit is Rich, something about any time a man is alone with a woman, regardless of place, age, he was always wondering if they would have sex.

She looked over at him, waiting for him to answer her question. She found his eyes on hers and there was an electric current between them. She stared at him for she didn't know how long before she realized it had been too long. She turned quickly away, trying to busy herself with whatever was in front of her. A sex swing the description said. She felt the blush spread, as if turning into something more, across her chest, her breasts, into her stomach, between her legs, her thighs feeling hot in their tights.

It took him a second to realize she'd asked a question. "Oh, um, well, yes, I'll show you around. "How much do you know about any of this? Down this first aisle are basic sex toys . . . used mostly be women . . . dildos and vibrators, that type of thing. Do you know what those are?"

Alison breathed again as he began to talk and broke the reverie. She looked away from the swing, pulled her eyes away from the illustrations on it and looked where he gestured. He spoke as if it was a grocery store. But it wasn't, it was like some medieval apothecary, selling mysterious potions to change your life. The dildos and vibrators, they were lewd, sexual, some crude or enticing but they didn't hold her gaze for too long. She kept glancing away, knowing there would be darker things here. "Yes, I know about those," she said politely. She had a vibrator, from her sister, but she'd never much taken to it.

"Down this next aisle is our erotic literature and the aisle beyond that are videos, though these are of exceptional quality - they're art more than . . . porn. Not the type of thing you would find online. Only the most attractive women . . . models, really." He'd provided this overview to countless customers nonchalantly, and though he tried to keep it light, with this beautiful young woman he was trying his best to keep her relaxed but interested, gauging how much she wanted to see.

Alison nodded, wondering at this man who would so nonchalantly tell a high schooler about his porn offerings. She believed what he said about them, the shop oozed of a kind of high-end art. It gave a luster to the desires it embodied, the desires she possessed, that she'd never considered before. She knew there was video available online, even of the things she imagined in the dead of night. She had tried looking once or twice. But it had been too much, she had felt herself out of control looking at it, just reading about it. She'd had to stay away, her stroll by this window her only descent to this world outside of her exertions in her imagination late at night. "You make it all look very nice," she said, feeling she should make a comment, a compliment, sounding like a girl on a field trip.

He smiled, charmed by the compliment, curious what was running through her head. "The last aisle contains fetish wear. Do you know what that is Alison?"

He couldn't help notice her freeze in her tracks as he said that, like a rabbit seeing a shadow pass over. She could feel blood rushing in her head back and forth, back and forth, pumped by her heart, athletic, in the prime of life. "Y-, yes," she answered him, turning to look at him. And in that moment she felt she stood revealed somehow, that just her simple response, her eyes, the way her body felt, it was all transmitting a message to him about what kind of girl she was.  It was something she didn't understand but she knew it was true, and that it was wrong and that she should never have come in here, but that coming in here was all that she wanted. She turned, her head moving slowly as if drawn inexorably towards the aisle to the items on display. To her they were not so much offered up for sale but for adulation, worship, sacrifice.

Her answer confirmed his very first opinion of her and he might have smiled too broadly at her reply. Yes, she was very curious indeed. And if she was that curious, he could take her places. He felt his response in his jeans, the swelling. Every once in a while he had some of the "tough girls" older than Alison stop in, as if on a dare, to prove something to their friends. But Alison, standing her in her private school uniform, perfect teeth, and, he was guessing, her perfect body, to show her - to bring her into this world, he felt his throat suddenly dry. Swallowed, "Good . . . I'm glad you know. These are very high end." He pointed to a pair of high, shiny, soft black leather boots that laced all the way up, six inch heels. "These boots are $1,000 . . . from Italy."

Alison's eyes darted sideway at his comment, that he was glad. She wondered briefly what he meant by that, wondering if what she was reading in his eyes was true. But she was easily distracted by the items on display, by the boots he showed her. She supposed she should be impressed by the price, by the origin. But it was just the boots themselves that intrigued her. They were tall, so tall she knew they would wrap tightly around her calves, all the way to her knees. They would be like wearing a second skin, not a boot, if it weren't for that heel, tilting her body just so. And what a skin it would be. She didn't think before reaching out and stroking the leather. She wanted to lean in and smell it but stopped herself, glancing over at him and blushing some more. She didn't trust herself to say anything. He had a sudden flash in his mind of her standing in those boots, beautifully toned, tanned thighs, the heels accentuating the curve of her firm young buttocks. "You like them Alison? Would you like to try them on? Come on -- just for a laugh, it'll be fun," he said warmly, as if she were trying on a new pair of running shoes.

She did, she did want to try them on. She wanted to feel the leather encasing her legs, tighter and tighter, her body tottering on those heels. She glanced at him, a bit unsure, knowing she would need his help. The tone of his voice was even, bright, treating her perhaps as he thought she was, a teen girl with for whom this would be nothing but a lark. Maybe he didn't know, she thought to herself, and part of her thought that was better. Part of her was disappointed. "Yeah, sure, I could try them on. When else will I wear anything so expensive," she joked lightly, trying to meet his tone.

"Excellent." He reached up to get the boots for her, reminding himself to take it slowly. He didn't even know how old she was. For now, whatever feelings he was having toward her he mustn't show them. Keep it light, he kept saying to himself. And despite this, he could feel his body reacting to the thought, just the thought, of her in the boots. "The laces will take a little while, but I can help you. There's a chair here you can sit on while you put them on."

Alison took the boots from him, paying less attention to him now, as if he were just a guide, a figment of her imagination even, bringing her into this world. No, her senses were focused on the boots in her hands, feeling the leather, the weight of them as she took them. She sat down in the chair he pointed out to her, setting each boot on the floor where it flopped over, without her leg to give it shape.

She bent over her knees, undoing her school shoes, unable to see him as her hair fell about her face.

This was turning a corner, he thought. It was one thing to have her look around the store, but this girl was brave. There was something beyond the straight-A student good girl that she was hiding, and he felt it was now almost his duty to bring it out in her. For a moment he saw her neck exposed as she leaned forward, and he stood above her. He kneeled down in front of her, and her face was suddenly closer than he intended it to be, and he could smell her shampoo. "Need some help Alison?"

Alison looked up in surprise, her reverie having made her oblivious to his sudden nearness. When she lifted her head her face was right there, inches from hers. She smelled as any good girl would, of shampoo and lip gloss. Only the dark pools of her eyes hinted at something beyond all that. She looked down, blushing a bit, at her bare feet on his store floor. "Sure, probably," she said, realizing she was a bit unsure how to do these, other than putting her foot in first, which is what she did.

"It's up to you Alison, but to get the full effect you might want to take off your tights first. There's no way quick way to get these on. You have to unlace them first, and then put them and lace them all the way back up. If you take one, I'll take the other."

Alison looked at him, kneeling next to her. She knew what that would mean, to sit here and bare her legs and let this man lace these boots up them. She felt that thing inside her which she tried to keep caged away coming loose at the thought. "Sure, well, might as well do it the right way," she said lightly, sitting up straight again. "Just . . . turn away for a minute," she said, heat in her cheeks as she prepared to slide her tights down. She was keenly aware suddenly of just the two of them in this whole building.

" Of course," he said without hesitation. He glanced over at the mirrored wall behind the register and could see Alison's reflection perfectly clearly. Still, he only watched out of the corner of his eye. It felt like she was taking off more than just her tights. His words were resulting in her actions, and even though it was just tights it was the same process if she were starting to undress completely. He was feeling a connection to this girl, alone together in his store, and he was glad that he hadn't turned on the security cameras. Whatever happened this afternoon he didn't want anyone to have a record of it.

He pictured her delicate hands on the waistband of her tights, and couldn't help but wonder what kind of panties she had on underneath. White cotton to match the good girl image? Cartoonish? No, doesn't seem the type. A thong? Maybe she didn't wear any. He felt like it was something he needed to know.

She felt him turn away and she stood, every rustle of her clothing seeming loud in the quiet shop. Doublechecking to make sure he was facing away, Alison reached under her school skirt, having to hike it up before hooking her thumbs in the waist of her tights and pulling them down. The sound of her tights sliding down her bare skin was almost obscene, the only sound in the room, so clear to the both of them - the teenage girl and the fetish shop owner.

Alison found her heart pounding so hard she thought he might hear it too, and was embarrassed to feel the heat rushing to her crotch. She knew she would be wet before she finished stripping off the tights, and she was, laying them on the floor next to her shoes in what suddenly seemed like the most lurid display. Sitting back down, feeling suddenly different with only her pale blue cotton panties under her skirt, Alison pressed her knees together. "Okay."

The first thing Christopher saw when he turned around were her tights on the floor. They weren't quite folded, and they weren't in a crumpled ball either. The next thing he noticed were her feet, and their nakedness surprised him. Well manicured feet of an athlete with just the slightest hint of what had been an ankle tan. He could see calluses. His eyes traveled quickly up her bare legs into those eyes. So close. "Ok, you start unlacing this one," he said, handing her one of the boots, "and I'll start on this one." In the silence, each focusing on their task, he could feel some kind of tension building, and he debated about trying to fill the quiet with conversation. "You'll be the first," he said.


Into the Curiosity Shop Ch. 02



The spring concert was scheduled to start at 7 at the high school auditorium. Allison had texted him saying she had to be there at 6:30 to line up. Christopher had responded by telling him to meet her outside the high school behind the auditorium at 6, saying he had a special gift for her that he wanted her to wear during the concert. 

Alison opened the unmarked steel door, letting herself out into the cool night air. The auditorium was hot already and only going to get hotter, and the change of temperature was refreshing. Closing it carefully behind her, glancing to make sure no one was paying attention, she stood in the dusk light, the distant lamp lights starting to turn on. Alison was dressed in a white dress, contrasting with her dark skin and hair, of modest length and fit, just the sort of plain thing expected of a good high school girl. She wondered what Christopher had for her ... she knew it would be something deviant ... he wasn't the type to bring her a rose or a bracelet or something. She found her heart racing already at the surprise.

Christopher had been leaning against the car door waiting for Allison to appear. He laughed quietly to himself after he felt that familiar rush of anticipation in his veins. The effect Allison had on him was nearly indescribable. To this point he had stayed away from the school, but now that he was here in the parking lot it brought a combination of nostalgia with a perverse excitement. When he was with Alison she always had a maturity about her that belied her age. Her body definitely looked her age. He saw the heavy door open and Alison appear, looking stunning in a simple white dress - virgin white, he thought, ironically. He saw her looking around the parking lot. "Alison," he said quietly.

Alison turned her head at the sound of his voice, her eyes finally finding him. Stepping carefully away from the door, she glanced around one more time for onlookers before hurrying over to him, her shoes tapping against the pavement. This felt surreal, the collision of her two worlds she usually kept so far apart. When she was in his shop she no longer felt like a schoolgirl. Here, rushing to this older man's car she couldn't feel like anything else. "Hey."

"Kiss me on the cheek like an uncle," he said, putting his hands lightly on her hips. He loved her hips, the way they looked and felt under his hands as she rode him, or as he thrust into her hard from behind. He made sure she was close enough to feel his already semi-erect cock through the pants of his lightweight spring suit. "You look lovely Alison," he said when he felt her cheek against hers. "Get in the car."

She leaned up on her tip toes and brushed her lips on his cheek, taking in his whispered words. Despite not knowing what was running through his mind, hers was thinking of nearly the same things at the touch of his hands on her. They had never touched anywhere but in the private of the shop and since that first day there had never been any pretense to it. Now he touched her casually yet all she could think of was this way his strong hands would direct her in his shop, into his fetish wear, into his bindings, or him into her. She pulled herself away from him quickly, unsure how much she could control herself under his touch and did what he said, sliding silently into his passenger seat.

He smiled at her sitting next to him in the front seat. "You're wet already, aren't you Alison. I can tell just by your eyes, did you know that? And I know that when you reach your between your legs right now and pull your panties aside and put your finger there and bring it up to show me, it will be wet, won't it." He put his hand on her bare tan thigh. Her skin was flawless, her eyes dark and intense -stunning without an ounce of makeup on.

Inside the car, despite how potentially exposed they were, it felt private once again, his proximity whisking her away to that dark hole she entered on that first day in his shop. At the first touch of his hand on her thigh, insistent and strong, her legs spread, her dress riding up further. Anyone looking would be shocked to see this young girl and this man like this, but Allison only added to the sight, slipping her hand immediately between her legs and tugging at the band of her panties, tugging it to the side to expose her dark bush. 

Her core was wet, indeed. "Yes, Christopher," she said, and she plunged a finger eagerly inside herself as she said it, as if the words themselves gave her pleasure. She closed her eyes and fingered herself once, twice, three times, hard and deep before pulling her finger out with a gasp and showing it to him, her chest heaving.

"Give me a taste and then clean the rest off yourself," he said. Her enthusiasm and her inhibition mixed with the sight and scent of her pussy juice on her finger brought his cock to a throbbing erection. "Good girl Alison," he said. This was a first, sitting here in his car. That it was right in the parking lot of the elite private high school made it that much more intoxicating. Out of the corner of his eye he could see cars driving in, hear the sounds of doors opening and closing and quiet chatter. "Give it to me," he said, his hand squeezing her thigh.

Alison thrust her hand forward with a moan, clearly aroused, rubbing her fingertip against his lips while staring into his eyes. It was as if after weeks of letting this man do as he pleased with her, they had brought it to another level. Even these simple things which would be only a prelude at the shop were immeasurably kinkier here in her school parking lot, nearly in public. She thrust the finger into her mouth and sucked eagerly at it, her breath coming quickly through her nose as she thought what her peers, the parents, the staff would think of this.

He wasn't exactly sure why, whether it was her diet, her age, her genes, her athletic conditioning, or some random combination of them all, but she simply had the sweetest tasting pussy he had ever tasted in his life. He thought at times it actually had a fruited scent to it. He had always enjoyed giving oral sex before, and knew he was good at it, but Alison's taste was so addictive that in his shop one afternoon when she had left school early, he kept her tied up in various positions for nearly two hours, during which time he licked her pussy incessantly. She had cum ten times at least before he had stopped counting. She seemed to love the taste of herself as well, and he loved watching her do it. "I have a gift for you," he said, and reached behind her seat and lifted a small gift bag.

Allison remembered the first time he had her taste her own juices, how devious and disgusting it had seemed. That seemed a dim memory, hard to imagine and believe. She now knew the taste of her own pussy on her fingers, his fingers, on his cock, on his toys. Once he had smeared her face with it until she could smell nothing else. Today she sucked the juice from her finger and dropped her hands in her lap, watching him with the mixture of trepidation and excitement she felt every time they were together, never knowing what knew thing he was going to do to her. "What is it?" she asked, reaching to take it from him.

He pulled it away immediately. "Uh, uh" he said. "You'll get your gift after I get mine." 

Allison drew her hands back in surprise, the desire to please him, to not disappoint him, so ingrained in her now. "Your gift," she said, unsure.

"Yes. Your mouth on my cock. Stop before I cum, because you're going to climb on my lap right here in the car and I'm going to fuck you in the parking lot of your high school. Then you'll get your gift." 

Allison moaned involuntarily, as she often did just to the sound of his dirty talk. No one in her life had ever spoken like that, though she secretly longed to hear all those words. The fact that she knew he was deadly serious only made it more delicious. Allison looked down to his crotch, seeing how hard he was already. She concentrated on working down his zipper, the car quickly growing hotter from their two bodies. She had seen this sort of scene in a dozen movies and now it was going to be her, sucking off her lover in a parked car. Allison slid her slim hand inside his pants, looking up at him as she fished out the shaft.

He shifted his weight in his seat, angling himself so that he was more easily accessible to her. He would never admit this to her, ever, but there were times when he was genuinely surprised at how easily she obeyed him. The few times when she didn't, it seemed to be only so that he could give her a little punishment: an extra hard tug of her hair, or spank on her buttocks, or perhaps denying her orgasm. Yet there was no denying this connection they had, a near perfect balance. He could smell her sex in the confines of the car, and it occurred to him that someone might even see the windows fogging in the dusk and wonder at what was going on inside, or even know what was going on, but never would they expect it to be the valedictorian and a much older owner of the local sex shop.

How completely unbelievable it was, that was their protection, of sorts. No one that knew Allison would even believe she was having sex, never mind that she would let a grown man spank her, or put a dildo in her mouth. Or that right now before her concert she was leaning over the console and expertly taking the man's cock in her mouth. She sucked it into her mouth, none of the hesitation or awkwardness of those first days. Her lips slid down the shaft, her tongue working underneath it and she quickly began to bob up and down on the most sensitive stretch of shaft, feeling in his urgent hardness how ready for this he was.

She was a quick study. In a short time she had found the rhythm and motions that could either bring him off quickly, or tease him for as long as he could stand it. Her mouth was hot, and her fingers were strong as she stroked him. He reached over and slid her dress up over her waist and gave her ass a quick firm swat. It sounded different here in his car than it did in the shop. Normally he might reach behind her and start to rub her pussy or slide a finger into it, but not tonight. He slid his hand over her perfect muscular buttocks and found her tiny tight asshole and without rimming it, pushed the tip of his middle finger against it, feeling it give, and sensing the slightest hesitation of her rhythm on his cock as she felt it.

Allison felt him tug her dress up and knew that her ass, her panties pulled to one side, was on display. If someone wandered by and glanced inside the foggy window they would see it lifted up in the air for them. The idea terrified her, but at the same time it gave her a lurid thrill. She knew that if Christopher wanted to put her on display for others, she would let him. That thought made her suck his dick even more eagerly, turned on by her own wantonness.

Only the sudden touch and thrust of his finger distracted her. She lost her rhythm on his cock, holding it in her mouth but forgetting to suck. He had played with her ass once or twice, and she had not denied him. She couldn't deny him anything. But her body tensed, twisting a bit in discomfort, the air in the car suddenly heavier.

Despite the intense pleasure he was receiving from her mouth on his cock, and his finger exploring her ass, Christopher coolly looked at the clock on the dashboard. The valedictorian, the star athlete, the pride of the school, would never be late for a chorus concert. He was tempted to cum in her mouth, but for the gift to be inserted properly it would help if she rode him first. He put his hand on the back of her head, grabbed a handful of hair, and held her bobbing head still. "Time to fuck," he said.

Allison's body tensed as his finger first thrust inside her asshole. The strange sensation of being invaded there combined with the perversion of knowing it was made possible by her own pussy juices soaking his finger. She now found herself double penetrated for the first time, the new sensation of his finger so much deeper than he'd ever dared combining with the sensation of both his cock and finger thrusting into her each time she drove down. She was in control, despite the unexpected intrusion, and it was her own muscular legs which drove her body up and down, impaling herself on both. She felt her chest tightening, her nipples burning, the guttural sounds coming from her throat as her clenched, tight body rode him harder and harder.

She didn't even flinch at the feeling of his finger deep inside her ass, he thought. She was enjoying the feeling as much as he was, and it was that raw desire inside her, limitless, he thought, that so turned him on. He glanced at the clock again, calculated how much time was left until the concert began, thought about the gift he still had to give her. He needed to ask her just one question, and listen to her reply, the answer to which he knew would push him over the edge. He whispered in her ear, the scent of her hair strong, "Do you love the feeling of my finger deep in your ass Alison?"

Allison had forgotten the clock, the concert, and was too drawn into herself to notice the movement of his eyes. How could she notice that when there was so much happening down below. Her virgin asshole quivered around the intruder, grasping at his finger in spasms. Yet at the same time his cock drove up into her, either one more than enough to drive her to distraction on its own. There was no question about her response, despite the discomfort and the dirtiness of it. "Yes, I do," she moaned back into his ear, her strong thighs gripping him even tighter, her ass rock hard as she rode him with all her strength.

To make her late for the concert would stir suspicion in everyone around here. What could possibly make Alison, the valedictorian, late for a concert? Knowing Alison, and though she never said anything to him about it, she probably even had a solo. He would make certain they both came and that she would have time to open the present. Hearing her acknowledge that she enjoyed having her ass finger fucked did it for him.

With his free hand he grabbed her hard buttock and slapped it twice, and then dug his fingertips into her flesh. "That's my good girl," he said, and in his mind spotted his orgasm building in his balls. "We're going to have a lot of fun with that tight ass of yours," he whispered hotly in her ear.

Allison could hear the rough growl in his voice, the animalistic way he slapped and grabbed at her tight ass. And she knew she loved it, for some reason she couldn't understand, but cared less and less about, she loved the idea of him treating her as something to grope and grab and fuck, the way when the passion mounted there were no limits but only hands and skin and sweat and the rough banging of bodies into each other. Allison rocked her hips back and forth crazily, forcing his cock in her with each forward thrust, and his finger in her with the backward. There was no more up and down her pelvis crushed tight to his and only this frantic fucking as she came.

He loved the way she never held back. Ever. He guessed she attacked every other part of her life with this much enthusiasm, and for a moment he again wondered what she looked like on the soccer field, and he made a note to meet her here again after one of her games, and fuck her in the car, or maybe in the woods, hands all over with her sweaty body and her uniform around her shin pads and cleats. Now, though, he concentrated on his finger in her ass, her tight pussy gripping and milking his cock, the shaking of her hips signaling her orgasm, and he didn't hold back any longer. He thrust upward hard and felt himself release his load up into her. He could tell by her intensity that she could keep fucking for a few more hours, but he needed to give her the gift. He waited until she slowed her hips, signaling his intention with his free hand back and her hip and whispered again, "That's my good pet. For that you may now open your present."

Allison moaned in a bit of frustration as she felt him thrust upward and stop, her own body continuing to grind and grind atop him until his hands guided her to a stop. Her body was covered in a coat of sweat underneath her clothing and she was sure she stank of sex. She sat resting her weight on him, trembling as he spoke of her present. She had forgotten it, could hardly concentrate on it as the spike of pleasure fooled with the chemicals in her brain, her hair plastered to her face. "What is it?" she asked, dazed.

He felt her pussy still spasming around his cock, and smelled their sex together and realized that they had fogged the windows. He reached over to the passenger seat and took the silver butt plug still in its gift box and handed it to her. Her breath smelled like her pussy mixed with a faint scent of something she had been using to sooth her throat for singing. "I know you're going to love it," he said, watching her rip the paper off it.

Allison sat back a bit, her ass pressing down on his lap, feeling his cock softening, slowly slipping out of her. Her head nearly touched the roof of the car, and so she hunched over, taking the box in her hands. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing still fast and loud. But with calm fingers she undid the paper and opened it up. She sat staring at shock at the butt plug. She knew what it was, though she thought she probably should not, but she glanced up at him with dark eyes and a silent face, biting at her lip.

For a moment he ridiculously thought she might not know what it was, but then realized given everything else she'd seen and touched and used in his shop she surely would know what it was, and the look in her eyes immediately confirmed it. "You're to wear it during your concert," he said simply. "We'll put it in now."

A good girl, in this day and age, shouldn't let a man boss her around like that. But there was no malice in his voice, and it was because he knew as well as she did that she wanted him to direct her. She wanted him to show her things he had only dared imagine. She stared back down at the plug, at how much wider it was than his finger and couldn't imagine what this would be like going in, let alone staying there. She nodded, but he could feel her tremble a bit there at the edge.

He put his large hand over hers still on the butt plug and started to lower their hands together in the canyon between their bodies. "Lift your hips ... we're going to get it wet from our juices mixed together," he said, guiding it down past her flat stomach toward her pussy.

Allison did as he said, raising herself up off of him, letting their hands slide together in the hot wet space between their bodies. She felt the plug brush along her swollen dark lips and moaned, her need insatiable it seemed to her, despite all she'd discovered with him.

The sound of the plug against her wetness reminded him of the sounder her fingers made when he made her masturbate for him. When he was satisfied it was wet enough, he took her hand, still on the plug, and brought it around behind her. "Lean forward and arch your back," he said matter-of- factly,"and we'll slide it in slowly."

Allison could feel it collecting her nectar as they slid the plug back and forth along her lips. She knew it would be wet, sticky and fragrant with her smell as he shifted it behind her. Leaning forward she pressed her body into his in the small car, arching her back expertly, despite her youth a master of her body. She felt how it opened her up back there, exposed her, and he could feel her hand trembling in his.

He wasn't about to tell her this now, but he knew from his own experience how the next 10 seconds would feel, and the two hours after. He enjoyed the thought of how much this would test her concentration skills, standing with her school chorus with a butt plug under her skirt, in front of hundreds of people in the auditorium, including him. The thought of it, and the way she was leaning into him, her ass up waiting for the plug, was bringing his cock back to life. He could feel her hand shaking under his. He held the tip to her little hole and pressed until he felt some resistance. He didn't wait to ask if she was ready, just kept pushing slowly upward and inward, and glanced at the clock: 6:24.




Into the Curiosity Shop Ch. 02



She gave a little soft sound as he pressed the plug to her, to the sensitive flesh that trembled at its touch. She pressed tighter to him, feeling his cock shifting, growing between them again. She too was aroused, her pussy brushing against his shaft as she jerked forward from the press of the plug. She would not let herself flee though, slowly relaxing again, pressing back towards his hand. She could feel the ring of her asshole stretching as he pushed it in, starting to burn. She winced, her fingers digging into him.

He groaned at the feeling of her heat against his shaft again, and he was very tempted to start fucking all over again. The rest of the evening, though, was about the tease. He lifted his hips slightly off the car seat to ensure she felt his stiffness fully against her pussy lips as he kept pushing the plug into her ass. Finally, it could go no further.

He took his hand and hers off the plug and together they grabbed the hem of her skirt and slid it down over her muscular buttocks again. "You're to wear that during the entire concert and after the concert until you get home. I'll be in the audience with my hand in my pocket stroking my cock while I watch you. Tonight when you get home, at 10 you're to turn on your webcam and prove to me that it's still inside you." With that he grabbed the back of her hair and kissed her so savagely that their teeth clicked.

"Now go," he said, looking into her dark eyes.

Allison's eyes were watering as the plug first stretched her tiny asshole and then sank into her, filling her rear with a strange unrelenting sensation. She felt him smoothing her skirt down over her rear, heard his words. But they were like the murmuring of the birds really, her world focused on the sensation in her rear. It did not lessen, did not go away, but stayed there, something pressing against her. She heard him, knew he would be staring at her while she sat with her classmates, the chair pressing this plug hard and deep into her. She wiped absently at the tears on her face, knowing the arousal that she only felt with him - deeper than anything that touching could produce.

Christopher took his seat in the 14th row. As soon as the lights were dimmed in the crowded auditorium he slid one hand into his suit pants and felt his semi-erect cock grow at the sight of Alison walking with the rest of the chorus onto the risers. She was by far the most attractive young woman in her class. He watched her every step, knowing the jolts of pleasure and slight discomfort shooting up through her stomach to her buttocks and thighs and belly. He stared at her until she made eye contact. It was brief, but long enough for him to see the wildness in her eyes. He knew he was the only one who would notice it because he was certain he was the only person in her life who had seen that look. He smiled to himself. My beautiful pet.

Allison was grateful to stand still after the endless walk from backstage to her spot in the chorus. Every shift of her legs moved the plug inside of her, making her eyes want to roll to the back of her head. She clenched her hands as she sang, her nails digging into her palms. He'd pushed her this far, perhaps, in the privacy of his shop. Pushed her to the point where she felt civilization was falling away from her and she was nothing but stark naked need. But now he was doing it here, in front of her parents, next to her classmates, each in their little innocent bubble. Squeezing her thighs tightly together, keeping what composure she could, Allison wasn't' sure whether she was trying to keep herself from cumming here on stage, or trying to.

Allison felt depravity bubbling in her, her friends on every side unaware, only one pair of eyes in the room seeing her. She knew that when she finally reached his shop tomorrow her desire would be like nothing he had yet seen.



Into the Curiosity Shop



Alison felt his eyes on her legs and she pressed her knees together tighter until he finally found her face. She stared at him, her face a mask until he spoke, taking the one boot in her hand and nodding. She sat and unlaced, over and over, the silence and tension in the room building. She once in a while would glance up, only to find herself staring at some kind of sex toy. When he finally spoke it startled her and Alison let out a little gasp. Turning to look at him she quirked her eyebrow quizzically. "What?" she asked, thinking this must be one of many firsts, she would hope.

"You'll be the first to try these on," he said, smiling, noticing the hesitation and confusion in her voice. He looked down at the laces, steadily working them out and loose until he felt she could put her foot in. "Here, put it in," he said, and he held the sole of the boot with his right hand, splaying the leather open with his other hand. He could feel himself continuing to swell, and he didn't mind. He liked the feeling, and wanted her, willed her, to look down at his jeans, where his hand waited with the boot, just inches from his crotch.

She looked down at where he held the boot open for her. She lifted her foot and saw how she would be thrusting it down, down into the waiting hold of the black leather boot, pushing down towards his crotch. She tried not to focus on his crotch but couldn't help doing so, the way he held it there. Somehow he had transformed the action of putting on a shoe into a deliberate piece of erotica. She carefully did not look up as she pressed her bare foot forward and slid it into the leather grip of the boot, feeling the boot dip down toward his bulge as she did so.

He had considered allowing the pressure of her push to bump against his cock, but he decided to be more subtle than that. "All the way in?" he asked, looking up at her, the inside of his forearm brushing against the side of the boot as he held onto the heel. "Now the other," he said, repeating the process on the other side. Once he felt her foot securely inside, he said, "Ok, I'll start lacing this side. You take the other. First to the top wins."

She felt the small jolt as her foot found its perfect fit deep into the boot. It was almost perverted, that sense, and the look in his eyes as he asked her if she was all the way in. She could feel a sweat breaking out in a cool wave on her skin as he took her other foot inside the other boot, the heel landing on his leg. She just stared at him as he attempted a little joke. The air was too thick to lighten at this point. Especially as she was forced to either pull her foot up to the chair, exposing most of her leg, or bend down over it. She chose to bend, preserving some modesty as she reached down and tugged on the lace.

He was always a little surprised when women didn't realize what they were revealing when they leaned forward, and her action so caught him off guard he almost didn't look at first. But there it was. As she had leaned over, her school uniform blouse had dropped down, providing him a delicious view of the tops of her breasts - fuller than he would have thought - peeking out of a white lacey bra. The sight brought his cock to full erection, and it brought her face that much closer to his, almost side by side. She smelled wonderful. He started to lace his side, grasping her calve to hold her leg steady, switching his hands back and forth, pushing the laces through their holes. He realized it was one of the most intimate things he had ever done. Close enough to kiss her, staring at her breasts, working methodically. He finished first, almost disappointed that she would have to sit up and shut down his view.

Alison was keenly aware of his hand on her calf through the leather, more affecting really than it would have been on bare flesh. With each tightening of a lace he pulled her leg slightly toward him with a jerk, the boot tightening on her. It was like some obscene sex, all in microcosm. She fumbled with her laces, slower than him, distracted by the feel of his rhythmic work on her leg. When she finally finished she felt him sitting and staring at her, blushing fiercely as each tug of her own laces seemed dirty somehow, encasing her tanned legs in dark leather for his benefit.

He held her calf tightly with one hand, the other underneath the sole. Her face appeared flush. He took a deep breath through his nose to see if he could smell her. "Let's take a look," he said smiling, finally putting her foot down. "Now these aren't going to feel like a soccer cleat," he said. "Not only does it have a high heel, but the sole is about three inches thick too. Here, I'll help you," he said, standing up in front of her, knowing his thick swollen cock would be visible through his jeans at her eye level. He extended a hand to her.

Alison's thighs were pressed tight together, the sweat slicking her inner thighs, but that wasn't the only cause of her wetness. Each jerk of the laces had made her wetter, as if a thrust inside her, his eyes down her shirt making her breasts tingle. Now as he stood she could see the outline of his shaft, swollen, through his pants and knew that he had felt the same. She half expected him to thrust it at her, to grab and take her, and so she placed her hand in his in a sort of surrender, letting him pull her to her feet or as he wished. His cock was like a sign of his masculine power right now, her legs encased in his leather a sign of her submission. She tottered to her feet as he tugged her hand.

The direct connection of holding her hand triggered a new level. He looked right at her. She was enjoying this, the All American Girl with a dark side, he thought. She's not running away, she's enjoying this. She hasn't argued or fought back on anything I've done or said. She has potential as an incredible sub, he thought. Young, intelligent, with a beautiful sweet face and an incredible body. How far would she go with all this? He was determined to find out. His cock kept throbbing in his pants. "Want to try walking on your own?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, not at all daunted at the thought. It proved harder than she imagined. She was an athlete, she had a natural grace, but these boots were like pole vaulting with each step. She walked toward the mirror she saw, having to step slowly, feeling her calf tightened by her foot's posture, gripped tight by the fit of the boot. As she stepped away she was keenly aware of the way the boots made her ass clench and sway in her skirt, like any heel but oh so much more, her whole leg tensed and on display.

He watched her swaying in her skirt, her tight buttocks revealing themselves through her skirt, her hips swaying. I could just go over there and hike that skirt up right now, he thought, and take her from behind right in front of that mirror. The incongruity of the plaid skirt and the high leather boots was sexy. "What do you think?" he asked. "You look fantastic in them."

How could she answer that question? She looked in the mirror and saw him gazing at her from behind. The lust was apparent in his pants if not his eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the high heeled leather, the schoolgirl skirt, every man's dream, she imagined. She indeed looked like a creature out of her own dreams, not something real, not something she ever expected to be. Deep in the rabbit hole indeed. "They certainly transform you," was her answer, gazing only at the boots in the mirror, the knotted lacing, the tapered toes, the thin heels.

"Transform you how?" he asked. "Into what?"

Her eyes moved, in the mirror, up to his eyes. She hadn't expected the question, wasn't sure what to say to him. "Well, it's not something you would just wear to have a shoe, is it? It feels ... totally different than normal, like a . . . this is why people come here, isn't it? To become something for a while?"

"And what's the something you've become Alison. Do you feel . . . sexy? Do you feel like there's a different Alison looking you back in the mirror? One no one has ever seen before?" He took a few steps closer, the friction of his cock on his jeans filling his shaft with pleasure.

She saw him drawing closer in the mirror from behind as she stood, balancing on the leather heels, her whole body pitched forward at an angle by these boots. Her heart pounded like it did after a race, blood rushing through her muscles, her vision even going a bit hazy, her breath seeming shallow. He was closing in on her and she was perched in the dim confines of his shop, and they were alone and he wanted to know if she felt sexy, if she was different. "Yes, very different," she answered him, feeling like this darkened room was not in her world, but somewhere else, like that place in her mind she had always gone to think of these things.

He still didn't know how old she was, and part of him didn't care, but still, she was in high school still. "Are you . . . turned on Alison? It's ok to say yes . . . or no. I'm guessing that you are, by the way you keep looking at yourself. By the way your face is flush. By the way," he said, looking at her in the mirror, at her nipples clearly hard through her blouse, "by the way your body is reacting."

He had been so pleasant, so light in tone before. And he was not unpleasant now, but his voice was serious, or touched on serious matters, intimate matters. She felt her pussy clench, wet and hot, as he said her name, as he asked her if she was turned on. She was unaware of her hard nipples pressing at her blouse, because she was all too aware of the smell of her sex drifting up to her nose, no tights to hold it in, only a scant pair of panties. "Yes" she told him simply, no reason to dissemble, she had known it from the second she stepped in here that this was about not hiding anymore.

"Good, I'm glad," he said. "You know else Alison? I think that if you were to lift up your skirt right now, we'd see a little spot on the front of your panties, wouldn't we." He still hadn't touched her, wasn't planning on it yet. This was so new to her, he thought, but she wasn't running screaming from the store. "Would we see a wet spot on your panties Alison?"

There was no more masquerading, no more pretending what this was about. She stood, in her school uniform and his leather boots, inside his sex shop. He asked her about her wet panties. And she knew at that point that she would do whatever he told her, answer whatever question. She had spent years avoiding this dark place in her mind, but now she was standing here, inside it, and he was its purveyor. "Yes. Not a little one," she answered, blushing furiously but meeting his gaze in the mirror, over her shoulder.

Every time she spoke, she confirmed in his mind that she was ready for more. At some point in the future, he was certain she'd protest, but now she was, and the word suddenly popped into his mind - ripe. He would take it slow, though, because he didn't want to scare her off. He wanted her to take each corner slowly, but to keep taking the corners. "Take them off and show them to me," he said, meeting her gaze.

She had already admitted her wetness. She had already taken off her tights while sitting next to him, alone in his sex shop. Suddenly taking off her panties as well did not seem outrageous. Not enough so to combat the arousal Alison felt at the thought, the pleasure in following his modestly kinky demands. There was no thought this time of asking him to turn away. She simply reached down and slowly hiked up her tartan skirt, revealing inch upon inch of bare, smooth muscled thigh followed by the rounded swell of her ass. It was encased in the tight grasp of her cotton panties, slowly bunching as Alison hooked her thumbs in the waistband, fingers holding her skirt up obscenely and slowly slid both down.

He watched her hike the skirt up without hesitation, and eyed her delicious thigh and muscular buttocks, feeling the throbbing in his pants. When she had the panties in her hand, he said, "Toss them to me."

The skirt fell again, covering the rear she had bared for just a delicious moment. She stepped out of the panties carefully, having to balance on one high-heeled boot, the sight of the simple cotton panties sliding over the kinky leather boots an erotic contrast. She stood now, looking just the same as before, but aware of the brush of the wool on her bare hips and ass, the light tickle of the skirt against the hairs of her pussy. Aware mostly of the fact that he knew she was bare now. Nodding in the mirror she turned partway around and tossed the light pair of undies at him.

He caught them and looking directly at her, first held them up in front of him like he was assessing a painting. Just holding them he could already smell her intoxicating wetness. He brought them down closer to his face, and looking her directly in the eye, held them to his nose and inhaled sharply. God, what a scent. Still looking directly at her, his eyes serious, he lowered the panties slightly, and extended his tongue, licking her young wetness with his tongue, the slick mix of her juice and the taste of her cotton panties. With a smile in his eyes, he said simply, "Delicious Alison. Now, see that three-way mirror over there?" he said, pointing with his eyes. "Walk there for me. Then I want you to do something."

Alison felt her knees shaking as she watched his lurid actions, watched his tongue scraping along the cotton that had just wrapped around her inner self, tasting the juices she could smell still rising from her pussy. It was so perverted, so wrong, yet done in such a dignified style, it made her think that all of those dark thoughts she had had through the years. There was something to them, some sort of honor and beauty to the darkness. She turned and walked to where he directed, hearing the click of the heels on the floor of his store, feeling her hot wet pussy rubbing slightly against each other as she walked, the juice threatening to wet her thighs soon.

He kept the panties in his hand, the taste of pussy still on his tongue and followed her swaying hips to the other mirror, his cock fully erect and brushing against the cotton of his tight boxer briefs. From his relatively brief glimpse, he thought she had simply one of the most beautiful asses he'd ever seen: so round and firm and perfect. He wanted to see more of it. "You feel incredibly sexy right now, don't you Alison. Embrace it, and acknowledge the power in your sexuality. I want you to see just how sexy you look right now. Lean forward and put one hand on the side mirror, and lift your skirt up again Alison, but this time hold it up on your waist, and I want you to look closely at how perfect your ass, that skirt, and those boots all look together. Do it."

He didn't have to say 'do it', she was already willing, but she was glad he did. Something about the sound of the command made her stomach clench. She tottered over to the mirror, seeing herself from every angle, and him as well behind her. She placed her hand on the mirror, and just that itself was intensely erotic, her hand against the cool glass, the feeling of her body thrust forward, positioning herself. Her other hand reached down and pulled her skirt up, higher than before, to her waist. There she was showing her perfectly firm, round ass to a strange man, in a sex shop, while wearing his kinky boots. She looked in the mirrors, as he had directed, seeing herself in all dimensions, and she looked just as something she had imagined, her dark skin set off by the black of the leather, her legs and ass made tight and firm by the height of the heels, her dark bush the perfect complement to the leather below.

"Run your hand over your ass for me Alison. Doesn't it look fantastic? You have a very lovely ass. I know it feels good, doesn't it. I want you to something else for me Alison. I want you to give your ass just a little spank with your hand. Have you ever done that before?" He was talking quietly but evenly, aware of this zone she was in and not wanting to break the spell. "You should know that I'm very excited looking at you Alison, such a beautiful, sexy young woman."

It was indeed like she was under a spell. She did not hesitate or think, simply following his directions as she stared into the mirrors. Almost as if he was not truly there but just guiding her exploration in this dark shop, as if she was truly there alone. She reached back and stroked her own ass, the familiar delight of stroking her own skin made even lovelier by the situation. She looked a bit embarrassed at his other commands, but she answered him, "A few times," and then indeed she bent back her small hand and smacked her own ass, making a tight slap in the quiet room.

He took a few steps closer to her, his cock twitching at the sound of her hand slapping her perfect ass. "I can see you're quite comfortable touching yourself Alison. You didn't hesitate at all. Now, keep your hand on the mirror and lift your shirt up over your bra, and lift your bra up over your breasts. Show me your breasts, Alison," he said, taking another step forward until he was four feet from her, watching the many angles of her ass and long lean legs and boots in the mirror, the taste of her pussy still on his tongue.

She blushed as he pointed out her lack of hesitation. On the one hand she was embarrassed by it, and to have it pointed out. On the other hand she was happy to hear the seeming satisfaction in his voice, his approval of it. She knew somehow that he would approve of all those things in the back of her mind that she knew no one else would have. He would be proud. Leaving her skirt now, she goes to do as he says, baring her breasts to this older man. She slides the top up, revealing more and more of her smooth dark skin, her stomach the perfectly toned plane of youth and athletics, her cotton bra a stark contrast with the dark skin. Gripping it in her hand she gathers the clasp of the bra and tugs upward, popping the cups over her firm young breasts.

"Your breasts are beautiful Alison. Truly, they are quite exceptional," he said, and took another half step closer. "Alison, I want you to touch yourself for me. I know how excited you are, and I want you let those feelings loose. I want you have to an orgasm right there in front of the mirror, touching yourself, and I will have one too," he said. "I'm going to show you my . . . cock," he said slowly, emphasizing the word, "now." And he started to unzip his jeans. "Go on, Alison . . . play with your pretty pussy for me."

Alison managed to get her bra up on her chest, letting her breasts hang free in the dark shop that now felt so warm and small around her. This was no more dissembling, no more dancing around, this was what she knew it would be when she stepped in here, finally giving in to the pull that led her here. He wanted her to cum, he was unzipping his pants, and she was no longer a good little girl. No, she was leaning against the mirror and watching herself in triplicate as she thrust her hand between her smooth thighs and rubbed furiously at those lips which were so wet and swollen, ready for this.

He stood nearly directly behind her and that perfect ass, affording himself a view of her lovely young pert tits in the mirror. He finished unzipping his pants and his thick, circumcised cock finally sprang free. From his pocket he pulled a small tube, and squirted a dollop of lotion on to his hand, which he then used to start to slowly stroke his cock, a foot behind her ass. "That's it Alison, play with your sweet pussy . . . cum for me . . . cum for me Alison, and I'll cum for you."

She could see him in each of the three mirrors, looming behind her. She could see him taking out his cock - the first man's cock she'd ever seen, full and thick, unlike the boys she knew. He just stood there stroking it but it added so much to the eroticism of this moment and she cried out softly as she pressed a finger harder between her lips, stroking at her entrance and over where her clit hid, at the same time. "I'll cum for you," she told him, this young high school girl telling him this, standing in his leather boots with her fingers pressing further between her wet pussy lips.




Into the Curiosity Shop



Without the music or any videos playing, and without any couples or groups of customers talking, the shop was completely quiet. The thick glass windows deadened whatever light traffic was on the street. He could hear, though, very distinctively, the sound of her fingers moving against and in between her lips, a sound that always drove him wild. He started to pump his hand faster up and down the length of his shaft, watching her buttocks clenching and unclenching. He couldn't resist any longer and reached out spanked her ass - not hard, not light, just a spank. He could feel he was close.

He could see her body tense and flinch at the unexpected slap of his hand. Her body was muscular from her athletics, her thighs tight right now, clenching both from the fit of the boots and the way she pressed down hard into the floor, grounding herself. As her lips parted, they began to make a wet sound with each stroke of her finger. She knew he was behind her, staring, knew he would be seeing her ass, the way it clenched tight as she pushed forward against her own hand. Knew he could look in the mirror and see her breasts, her dark nipples, her eyes filled with lust.

It became too much for him to hold back. Those long lean legs in the boots, the small of her back, and ass thrusting against her hand and her swollen dark nipples. He stroked his cock faster, squeezing it tightly with his hand, mimicking how tight he thought her sweet young pussy would feel around him. He thrusted faster into his own hand, timing his thrusts forward to hers moving back, thinking about how that tight ass would feel against his underbelly pumping into her hard from behind. "Ohh, god" he said between gritted teeth as he felt his hot liquid rocket up from his balls and watched in three mirrors its arc as it landed on the small of her back on the first burst, followed by another on her buttock, and then another, and then dripping into his hand, groaning as he came hard.

She gave a wild cry, something a bit desperate and out of control at the sight and sound and feel of him cumming. Immediately her own dam burst, as she shoved her fingers inside herself, unknowingly imagining the same thing as him at the time of her orgasm. Her back arched, her legs tight and thrust down, her ass clenching she exploded on her own fingers, for the first time cumming so hard she actually squirted, drenching her hand with the juice of her sex, the smell filling the room. Her hand slid down the mirror, leaving a sweaty trail as her knees buckled a little, her whole body almost spasming. She could feel his cum dripping slowly across her skin.

"Mmmm, god that was so sexy, Alison. Turn around, look at me." By the smell of sex and juice in the room, and her body, and her yelp he knew she had cum as hard as he did. "Show me your hand, Alison."

She turned in a circle, tottering on the boots in her sudden trembling legs. Alison leaned back against the mirror, her bare ass against it, smearing the cum, her skirt bunched up, her shirt as well. Sweat caused her hair to stick to her forehead and she stared at the man who had taken control of her. She held up the hand, knowing what he wanted to see, the hand glistening wet with her juices, her pussy and thighs slick with juice and sweat above the boots.

This is what sex looks like, he thought, watching the pretty young woman in front of him, her eyes glassy, her nipples hard and her thighs and hand shiny with her juices, hair framing her face wet with sweat, those boots still hugging her calves. He felt his own cock already bouncing back and nearly fully erect again at the sight of her. "Lick your hand clean, Alison."

Alison groaned with an animal sound and immediately followed his direction, as if it bypassed her thoughts completely. She stared into his eyes with her dark ones as her broad pink tongue came out and lapped her palm, tasting her own juices, more copious than they had ever been, lapping faster and harder as the very idea of doing this in front of him turned her on more and more, taking her further from self control.

"When you're done licking your juices, Alison, you can start on mine," he said, looking down at his erect cock, gripping it in one hand, his own juice still dripping down through his fingers.

Alison stared down at his cock, hardening again, and wet and messy from his orgasm. He fisted it and she knew he wanted her to taste him. Knew that she would, as she turned and sank onto her knees, still in his expensive boots, her clothing askew, skin coated with her juice and his. Looking up at him with her dark, seeming innocent eyes she stuck her tongue out and licked his fingers now, where they dripped with his cum.

It was the first time they had touched since his hands were on her calves helping with her boots, which felt like a while ago, and this was altogether different. "That's a good girl Alison," he said. "Do you like the taste of my cum and yours together?" The feeling of her tongue on his hand, the look in her eyes, brought his cock back to full attention

She lapped at his fingers, feeling like an animal kneeling there, licking up his juices. Indeed she tasted his strange taste mixed with hers. She did like it, because she knew it was wrong. And he did too for she felt his cock stirring under his hand, his fingers between her mouth and it. "Yes," she murmured, using her broad tongue to coat his whole hand.

His cock twitched as she lapped at his hand. Then he pulled his hand away from his cock, letting it stand fully upright on its own. He leaned his head down, and though there was no one else in the store, he still whispered it, "Suck my cock Alison."

He watched her body tremble, as a shiver raced up her spine at his words. His cock bobbed there, unveiled, glistening with his sticky juices. She knelt in his store, when she should be home studying, instead, looking up at him with her hair falling around her face and opening her mouth into a round O and moving for the head of his shaft, her lips glistening red.

"Have you done this before?" he asked, suddenly remembering her age. She didn't hesitate at his request, which had its own impact. But he did want to know if he should guide her or not.

"Uh... no," she admitted, looking at him uncertainly, embarrassed. Both for not having done it, and then for the idea that she was doing it, trapped between what she should be doing and what they both wanted her to do. Not wanting to displease him, her guide, she engulfed his head in her wet mouth and sucked, cheeks pulling in as her tongue bathed him.

He admired the fact that she was enthusiastic and honest and didn't hesitate. Probably the way she is in school, he thought. "I'll help you," he said quietly, "put one hand on the base, cover your teeth and imagine it's a lollipop." He reached out and took one of her hands and brought it his cock. The feeling of her hand made him throb again.

She felt the shaft hot and hard and moving in her grip. She felt something of the power there was in submitting, in pleasing a man. She followed his directions, her hand stroking slightly against that base as she sucked at his cock, careful with her teeth, starting to move her head slightly, slurping up and down.

"Yes, that's it Alison, that's a good girl. You're doing a good job sucking my cock," he said soothingly, and he reached out a hand and started to run it through her hair. He glanced over in the mirror at the site of her in the boots, her clothes a mess, her ass barely visible under her skirt. What an image. "I'm going to pump a little faster," he said, "keep doing what you're doing." His hand roamed through her hair, stopped and lightly gripped a handful of her thick dark mane, "that's a good girl."

She moaned on his cock. There was nothing particularly satisfactory about the feel of his shaft between her lips. And yet the way he praised her, the way he placed his hand on her head and controlled her . . . it was all those things that had lurked in the back of her mind all these years. She felt him pushing into her mouth, her jaw opening wider, heard him saying those dirty words, making her realize what she was doing, never able to escape it.

He was breathing heavier, starting to thrust his hips forward more aggressively, pumping his thick cock into her beautiful young face. It was getting more difficult for him to talk. "I want you to swallow my cum Alison. When . . . I . . .cum . . . keep it in your mouth and then swallow . .. like a glass . . . of . . . milk. Do you understand?" He said looking down at her, feeling himself getting closer.

She could hear the strain in his voice, and knew she was doing something right. It was right even though he was pushing into her mouth more and more savagely, a dark need taking him over. She knew he was no longer able to think of her as a sweet schoolgirl at his feet who he could guide. His hips were now pumping towards her sweet face like he wanted to drill a hole through her with his rock hard cock. She listened to his instructions, filthy as they were, turning her into something that not even the sluts she knew at school would do. And she nodded, sucking harder, her head banged backwards with each of his thrusts.

She was very enthusiastic. She hasn't run away, she hasn't resisted in the least. She's just obeyed every command. This could be the beginning of something incredible. He knew at that point he would tell her to come back tomorrow at the same time, but now his mind was focused on ramming his cock deep into her mouth, to feed her the first of what he knew would be many loads of his. He gripped her hair tighter, felt his knees shake and then from deep in his balls felt his orgasm build then explosde out of his cock into her warm wet mouth. He thrust forward and held it there for the first burst, pulled back and pushed in more. It was sharper than his first orgasm, and it went through his entire body, groaning as he came.

She knew if she pleased him he would be her gateway to many new things. The boots were just a little taste, one item on his shelf. Already she'd made herself cum, and taken his cock in her mouth. This was just one afternoon out of what she knew would be many. She wanted to do anything it took to please him. This was one of those things as his hands dug desperately into her hair and he thrust forward, even further than she had thought he could go. Her mouth was so full of cock that her jaw felt like it would break and she felt it pressing against her throat.

It seemed like more than she could handle. But as she felt the burst of warm seed in her mouth he thrust and then thrust again, jamming his cock head into the very opening of her throat. She gagged, feeling his cum spurt straight down into her stomach, his pubic hair in her face, his balls pressed against her chin. She could feel how she was emptying him, his body jerking sharply and trembling, his cock twitching in her mouth.

He slowed his hips, feeling himself emptying. He felt her take all of his juice and using his hand in her hair for leverage, slowly pulled himself out of her mouth, hearing the little pop and watched his swollen shiny tip appear. "Good girl, Alison," he said looking down at her. "You're going to be a great little cocksucker. Now stand up," he said relaxing the grip of his fingers.

She should be terribly offended at the way he talked to her, calling her dirty, demeaning names. But instead it thrilled her, made her even hotter in her core. And she knew he knew it. She knew he knew all those sorts of things about her, and that was why she was here, and why she sucked his cock for him, and stood up as he directed her. Tottering on her heels, drool and more on her chin, she tilted her head back and looked at him. She would let him do anything, she knew, no matter how degrading or kinky.

He looked straight in her eyes. "Give me your hands." He saw her willingness. She was now his, he thought. I could tell her to do anything right now and she would. Once I bring her to next orgasm, she will be mine. "Give me your hands Alison," he said again.

She stood there, under his gaze and did as he asked. After taking him in her mouth, what was giving him her hands. She reached out and placed one of her hands in each of his. She smiled tentatively; this seemed almost romantic after the chaos of the rest. 

He took both her small hands and placed them in one of his large hands. He stepped toward her, put his right hand on her hip and pushed her backward. At the same time he took both her hands, raised them above her head, pushing her back two steps and pinning her against the mirror. All in the same motion and momentum he pressed his face closer to hers and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue in deeply. His right hand moved from her hip to her breast, and he groaned when he felt the hard nipple against his palm and ripe firmness of her young breasts. He could taste his own cum and her pussy on her tongue as he kissed her hard.

Alison was quite surprised by his sudden movement after the calm. His hand on her hip drove her backward and she found herself stepping quickly back to keep from falling. It was as if they were dancing, as he brought her hands up in a quick motion. But when her body crashed against the mirror, and she felt her hands held tight there above her head, she knew what kind of dance it was. She met his mouth with eagerness, sucking at his tongue as it entered her mouth, her passion showing in her hot, clumsy kiss. She moved her mouth against his, rubbing the flavor of strawberry lip gloss to add to the taste of his cum. He felt her moan, vibrate into his mouth as he grasped her breast, claiming it with his hand. Her leg rubbed against the side of his.

He smiled to himself at the faint taste of strawberry lip gloss, a reminder of just how young she was. He kept her hands pinned, then grasped her breast, teasing her nipples between his thumb and index finger, tugging on it lightly as he pushed her legs apart and pressed his muscled thigh between her legs until he felt her heat through his jeans, felt her surprise and her hips push back.

Alison felt the sharp addition of a bit of discomfort to the intense pleasure and passion, the pull on her nipple rougher than she had experienced before. Her tight, hard nipple was sensitive and the feeling that shot through it and down to her stomach was curious - intense and yet not all bad. She found her thighs clenching around his leg, rubbing herself against it, no longer ashamed of her behavior.

He slid his hand off her hip across her stomach, impressed at the tautness, and glided his fingers down to her waistband. He lifted his hand off, pulled his hips back, and reconnected with her skin under her skin, above her public mound. His fingers brushed through the small strip of pubic hair until he felt her wetness. After planking his four fingers together to form a solid mass, he stilled his tongue in her mouth, and lightly tapped her pubic mound and clit.

She felt his hand travel along her body, from breast to stomach to crotch, her whole being concentrating on that light touch and its journey. She began to tremble as it brushed across her curls. Her firm, dark-skinned thighs parted for it as he pushed his broad hand in, holding it stiff. Everything seemed to pause in the shop, though it was probably simply the stilling of their mouths. And then he tapped her gently, his fingers tapping the soft swollen lips and her clit within. It was the briefest of sensations, the tap giving more of a sense of pleasure than she would have expected as it struck her.

He continued this game, teasing her tongue with his, tapping her mound unrhythmically, feeling the sharp short snips of her breath when his hand would tap her skin upon contact, part whimper and moan. He heard the sound of her boot bump against the mirror and her fingers squeezed his tightly above her head. He pulled his tongue back, and with his lips lightly pressed against hers, whispered, "You're very, very wet Alison."

Alison thrust her tongue into his mouth, trying to catch his, moaning in frustration at the way he was teasing her at both ends. He slipped away from her attempts at a hungry kiss, he tapped against her swollen lips and clit, not enough contact to truly satisfy, yet he did not stop. She moaned into his mouth as he pointed out her wetness, saying it out loud, though they could both feel and hear and smell her wetness as he lightly tapped her soft core, feeling how wet and yielding she was becoming. She tried to thrust herself against his hand, never able to get the timing right, perversely wanting to feel him hammer against it with his strength.

She's ready, he thought. He stopped his tapping and pressed his palm against her mound, his fingers cupping her pussy. With little effort, the tip of his finger slid easily between her lips, then applied more pressure, nearly lifting her with his hand and finger, pushing deeper inside her, exploring her walls. He loved the sound of his finger and her wetness together as he started to pump his finger in and out of her slowly but firmly, his palm bumping against her clit with every thrust.

Alison moaned in satisfaction as he finally pressed his hand against her pussy, feeling her heat and the wetness against his palm. Her eyes closed as his finger slid inside, easily into her wet entrance. It was like, to that point, she might have touched herself. But now he used his strength, pressing up hard into her, feeling him nearly lift her body as his hand ground into her pussy. His finger drove inside and the heel of his hand pounded against her wet lips and swollen clit. Then he began to thrust, his hand slapping wetly against her with each move, her body lurching up and down. She moaned again, wanting more, not less of this intense feeling, listening to her boot heels scrape against the floor.

He started kissing her passionately again, pumping his finger into her wet pussy, harder and harder with each thrust, hearing the wet slap with every thrust. He slid her two hands down the mirror and managed to grab a handful of hair and it was now wrapped around her fingers and his. He tugged and pounded, tugged and pounded, pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth. He wanted this to be the first of the most intense orgasms she would ever have in her young sex life.

He was not gentle and sweet, but intense and merciless, his finger fucking her harder than she had ever been fucked, despite it being just a finger. It drove in and out of her relentlessly, all the time his hand slapping against her pussy lips. She thought that even more than the penetration, that feel of her whole pussy being pounded was what was driving her over the edge. He yanked her hands down, pulled wildly at her hair and her body arched and twisted against the mirror, the sweat on her skin leaving streaks as she twisted, caught between his hand in her hair and his hand inside her.

He'd certainly done this type of thing before and always enjoyed it, but her newness to it all made it feel as if it were to new to him as well. He was pumping his finger into her so hard he felt a soreness in his forearm, but feeling the way she writhed and bucked against him only spurred him on further. "Cum for me Alison . . ." he said, breaking off the kiss, "Cum for me Alison my little slut . . . my little pet . . ."he whispered hoarsely, feeling the heat from her face against his, sweaty, her whimpering breaths acknowledging to him that she'd never felt anything like this before. Her breath smelled of sex and salt and strawberry lip gloss.

The pounding against her swollen clit, the finger impaling her tight hole, his hand in her hair and his voice in her ear, it all set her off. She felt her peak building, just as he commanded, despite his naughty words for her. Or perhaps because of them. Knowing that outside these doors she was a good schoolgirl marked for success. Inside she was this man's dark pet, prepared to cum for him in leather boots, from the pounding his hand gave to her sex.