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BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 01

By: TripleL



This is a stroke story. It's ridiculous and unrealistic. No one is worried about STDs, sizes are exaggerated, everyone is bi (or at least the women are) and people can fuck for hours without chafing. This chapter has simulated non-consensual sex and unsafe BDSM practices (seriously, people, use safe words). Caveat reader. 

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It was a bit past two AM when I crept into my professor's house.

I used her key to unlock the door, taking care to move quietly. I was carrying a small bag of zip ties, some bondage tape, a blindfold, and a pocketknife. I knew she would be asleep and alone as I crept silently to her bedroom. When I got there, I took a long look at Dr. Carrington as she lay peacefully on her bed.

Anne Carrington was indisputably gorgeous. I figure most of her male students (and more than a few ladies) fantasized about doing what I was about to do. She was 29, a bit below average height, and slender without sacrificing curves. Her strawberry-blonde hair was scattered around her head like a halo. Her perfectly formed breasts, each just a bit more than a handful, were currently covered by her black negligee, rising and falling slowly as she breathed. It looked like she had kicked off her blanket; it was pooled around her feet and left her long, pale legs bare. She was also wearing a sleep mask, which made the blindfold unnecessary. She was laying on her side, her knees pulled up slightly, with her hands clasped in front of her as if she was praying.

Up until a few weeks ago, Dr. Carrington had been a bitch with a capital B. She had a degree from some Ivy League school and thought that teaching the hicks and hillbillies who attended my small Southern college was an insult. But recently, her attitude changed. No one knew why, except me. Her attitude changed because I cornered her in her office after class and fucked her into total, abject submission. I took the things that made her proud and destroyed them. Dr. Carrington had a deep-seated need to be dominated, and I did just that. 

I made her give me a key to her home so I could use her at my discretion, but up until now I had always showed up early in the evening. For the past few days, I hadn't seen her at all; I didn't even come by her office for my morning blowjob. She had tried calling me, but I ignored her. There were two reasons for my callous behavior: first, I had been fucking Alyssa and Melanie, two roommates who had devoted themselves to satisfying my carnal needs, and so I didn't need the services of my slut professor. Second, and more important, was that by ignoring her I could drive her crazy with need for me. When I decided to show up and take her again, she'd be so desperate to please me that I could get her to debase herself in all kinds of new and interesting ways. 

At least that was the plan, and why I was sneaking into her house with a whole bunch of scary gear. Her confidence would have been shaken by my disappearance from her world, and my sudden return would make her even more confused and needy. 

I quickly grew bored watching her sleep. I took the zip ties out of my pocket and put them down on her bedside table. Then I lunged for her, clapping one hand over her mouth before she really woke up. She quickly tried to scream, but it was muffled and barely audible under my hand. She started to thrash about under me. I put my lips close to her ear and growled, "Stop moving, whore." She instantly stopped struggling, but she also reached for her sleep mask at the same time. I slapped her hands away, then backhanded her across one cheek. "Are you too stupid to understand orders, slut?" Dr. Carrington froze completely, whimpering in pain and terror.

I let her panic continue for a few sublime moments. Then I started giving her orders: "I'm going to let go of you. I want to you roll onto your stomach and clasp your hands behind your back." She nodded a bit; it was barely visible, but I felt her move beneath my hand. I backed off, and she rolled over quickly, folding her arms behind her back so that her left elbow rested in her right hand and vice versa.

Reaching over to the bedside table, I grabbed the bag of zip ties. I looped one around her arms near her right wrist. As I did, Dr. Carrington started to ask a question. I figure she was going to ask what I was doing, but she only got as far as "what" before I smacked the back of her thighs with my open hand. 

"Did I say you could talk?" I asked. She whimpered again and shook her head in a very small movement, as if she was afraid to draw more punishment. I pulled the zip tie tight around her arms, and then added two more—one by her left wrist and one in the middle. Then I pulled out my pocketknife and flicked it open, right by her ear. She twitched and seemed to want to bury herself in the bed. I ran the blade (the dull side—I'm not going to risk slicing anyone open) down her skin, from her ear, following her jaw line, down the side of her neck, along her back, all the way to her hips. Then I made two quick cuts, severing the sides of her lacy black panties. I yanked them off her and balled them up. "Open up," I commanded. When she hesitated, I let her feel the cool metal of the knife blade again and she promptly obeyed. I shoved her panties into her mouth and pulled out the tape. A few moments' work was enough to give her a makeshift gag.

The last thing to do was secure her legs. A light slap on her ass and a barked command got her to bring them together, and then I bound them with more zip ties around her ankles, under her knees, and at mid-thigh. Once she was bound and gagged, I quickly cut her negligee off her, leaving her naked except for her sleep mask, which was currently serving as a blindfold. I took a moment to admire my handiwork. My professor was lying on her stomach, arms bound behind her back, legs tied together, gagged with her own underwear, and unable to see what was coming. She was quivering in terror, but I sensed her need underneath the fear. Her bare pussy had started to get wet from my slaps and commands, and her nipples were prominently erect. I didn't know or care if she knew that I was the one doing this, or if she thought it was a genuine home invasion.

I folded the knife back up and tossed it aside, along with the zip ties and tape. I took off my belt and grabbed both ends in one hand, took the middle of the belt in the other, and jerked both hands in opposite directions. This made a loud POP! and Dr. Carrington started to squirm. I did it again, closer to her ear, and she let out a small scream around her panty gag. I swung the belt down and struck her bed, right next to her ass. She recoiled, rolling partly on one side and pulling away from the last place the belt struck. 

I'm told that interrogators have a saying: violence perceived is violence achieved. They're right. Dr. Carrington couldn't know exactly what was happening, but she could hear the crack of the belt and the sound of its passage. She could feel it when it struck the bed next to her. She knew that something could happen to her, and that was frightening, and that's why she moved away from the belt—but since I told her to stay still, that meant she had disobeyed me. I clucked my tongue and used my booted foot to roll her over on to her back.

"God, you must be the dumbest whore in town. I told you to stay still. You disobeyed once already, and you were punished for it. But clearly that didn't sink in, since you've done it again." I paused. "What sort of punishment should I use this time?" I paused again and walked around the bed to stand at her side. Then I brought the belt down on her exposed stomach, hard enough to leave a red line across her midriff but not quite hard enough to raise a welt. Dr. Carrington screamed again, this time fairly loud even with her gag. "And I told you to be silent. You really can't follow instructions at all, can you?" I whipped her with the belt again, this time across her thighs. She trembled, but managed to keep still and silent. I waited for a few seconds and then whipped her legs again, then the top slopes of her tits, and finally her stomach just her cunt, all in quick succession. I could see tears running out from beneath her blindfold, and she was shaking all over in her efforts to stay still and restrain her screams, but she managed to hold together.

I sat down on the bed by her head and started gently stroking her strawberry-blonde hair. "You know you deserved that punishment, don't you?" I said, quietly. "You can nod." She did. "Are you sorry?" She nodded again. "Good little slut." I continued to sit by her, stroking her hair and comforting her, until she stopped trembling. Still speaking quietly, I asked her if she knew what was going to happen next. She shook her head. "I'm going to take you. I was going to let you choose how. Do you think you deserve that?" She shook her head again. "That's right. Remember that you're an undeserving cunt. Every time I take you, I'm giving you a precious gift." She nodded. "Now get on your knees here on your bed."

Dr. Carrington struggled to obey. She rolled over onto her stomach and eventually managed to get her knees under her, which let her rise up to a kneeling position facing me. I took my belt and looped it around her slender throat, making it into a combination collar, leash, and choke chain. I yanked her forward, almost making her fall face-first onto her bed. I let out a sigh of disgust. "I want to give you a gift and you're acting like this? That's not very good behavior." I saw a fresh tear slide down her cheek from under her blindfold. That brought out an evil grin from me.

I picked her up bodily and positioned her where I wanted: kneeling, on the edge of her bed, facing out. I got on the bed as well and knelt behind her. I took up one end of the belt around her neck in one hand and with the other pushed gently on her back, making her bend at the waist so that her upper boy hung out in empty air over the edge of the bed. With her arms legs bound, the only thing that kept her from falling was my belt, which was securely wrapped around her neck. But she couldn't let it support her weight entirely without cutting off her air. After a few seconds, I heard her breathing hard and saw the muscles in her lower back tighten as she attempted to find a way to breathe comfortably without straining her back.

Enough foreplay, I thought. I unzipped my pants and hauled out my rock-hard pussy wrecker. At 13" in length, that was easier said than done. I lined up my cock with Dr. Carrington's slick gash and drove it home in one powerful thrust. The impact forced her forward and I heard her struggle to take in air. I pulled out, slowly, leaving just the tip of my cock in her, and then plowed into her again, timing my thrust to interrupt her efforts to take a breath. Then I did it again, and again, and yet again. Her face had gone red by this point, and I could feel her cunt juices dripping from my balls as the fear, loss of control, and arousal combined to push her close to climax. 

I started to fuck her in earnest then, slamming my hips into her ass twice a second as she choked and fought to keep from screaming. I couldn't help but be proud of my bitch for keeping that order in mind, even though I hadn't planned on enforcing it once the fucking started. She came first, as usual, her back arching and her cunt squeezing down on my cock like a fist. I followed her into orgasm, pumping my first batch of cock cream into her hot tunnel, then pulling out to shower her back and shoulders with a dozen thick white lines of hot spunk. My jizz ran down between her shoulder blades and pooled in the small of her back, its flow dammed by her bound arms.

I got off the bed then and stopped holding her up with the belt. For a moment Dr. Carrington fell forward. She let loose a panicked squeal behind her gag as she fell, but I caught her by the shoulder before she was in danger. I pulled the tape from her lips and removed her panty gag. I used my toes to pick up her discard negligee as well. Holding her in place with one hand, I used her lingerie to mop up my spunk from her back. There was more than enough of it to thoroughly ruin both garments (even if they hadn't been cut off her). I pushed her back onto her bed and tossed the sodden mess onto her stomach, where it landed with a wet slap. 

"What do you say?" I asked. 

Dr. Carrington managed to choke out her answer. "Th... thank you for your precious gift." 

"And what are you?" 

"An undeserving cunt."

"Very good. I'm going to give you another reward. Do you want to know what it is?"

Dr. Carrington was still panting as she struggled to get her emotions under control. She didn't answer me immediately. "Please tell me what it is, sir."

Before I answered, I stripped off my clothes and picked up the knife. I got into the bed and sat beside her. Finally, I took off her blindfold and cupped her cheek gently. Her eyes were wet with tears as she looked at me longingly. "I'm going to cut you loose and spend the rest of the night with you. Does that sound nice?" She nodded, somewhat tentatively, as if it was too good to be true.

"Of course," I continued, "you'll have to show your gratitude." She nodded again, eagerly this time. I rolled her on to her side, flicked open the knife once more, and cut away the zip ties that kept her bound. Once she was freed, Dr. Carrington instantly wrapped herself around me in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, sir. You won't be disappointed," she said. I gently guided her head down to my prick. I had let it go flaccid after our fuck, but it was still longer and thicker than most men when erect.

"I want to go to sleep with you suckling on my cock like it was your mother's teat. I expect to wake up the same way. Try to get some sleep because we've got a big day tomorrow." She nodded once more and then set to work, taking my cockhead into her mouth and sucking on it gently. I put my arms behind my head and dozed off. A few times during the night, I felt myself stiffen in Dr. Carrington's mouth. Each time I started to thrust gently, waking her from her own slumber. She responded quickly, if somewhat dazedly, and sucked and jacked me off until I filled her mouth with a hot load. Then I drifted off back to sleep.

Dr. Carrington's alarm went off at 6:30. I should have known that the bitch woke up early. I was a bit startled by it, so I slammed my hand down on the snooze button with a bit more force than I intended. I heard something crack and the alarm started blinking 12:00. The whole thing put me in a bad mood, and I took it out on my bedmate. She had my cock in her mouth all night, and I had planned to have her wake me with a long, slow, deep-throat blowjob, but her god damned alarm ruined that plan. So I grabbed her hair and yanked her off my morning wood. She seemed confused; I guess the alarm surprised her too. 

Without offering any explanation, I dragged her from bed and out to her living room. Dr. Carrington had a nice place; the living room was spacious, and it had a pair of large windows offering a lovely view of her front yard and the street she lived on. The windows had curtains, but at the moment they were open. Any one walking or driving down the street could see in, and the houses across the way had a lovely view as I strode angrily into the living room hauling the dazed Dr. Carrington behind me. I threw her up against one of the windows, pressing her tits against the cold glass, and roughly forced my cock into her unprepared ass.

Dr. Carrington let out a pained squeal as I stretched her ass around my cock. She hadn't expected this, which was both good and bad for her—good, because it all happened too fast for her to tense up, which would have made that first penetration much more painful, and bad, because she didn't have time to get set, mentally, for the experience. So she spent the first few seconds of her frenzied anal pounding simply trying to process what was going on, while I violated her and put her on display for anyone who happened to be watching.

My thrusts drove Dr. Carrington up against the window. I had more than a few inches on her, and my initial penetration had driven her up on her toes. Pinned between the window and me, she couldn't get her feet back under her, and so each time I drilled myself into her, she wound up almost completely impaled on my cock. She started to protest. "Please not here... anyone could see... my neighbors will know what I am."

I grunted as I continued to fuck her, adding the occasional slap on the ass for emphasis. "That's the idea, bitch. You should have told me about the alarm, but you didn't. You should always think of me and my pleasure first. And now you're paying for it." 

She started to whine and beg. "Please let me make it up to you some other way. I'll cancel my classes and you can spent all day punishing me, just not where people can see!"

"If you don't want everyone to know what kind of whore lives here, you should concentrate on getting me off. Fuck yourself on my cock and make me cum, then I'll let you down." That seemed to motivate her. She pushed back against the window, hard enough to drive me back and step and let her get her feet solidly planted. Then she started to slam her ass into my hips with just as much force as I was using a moment ago. As she did, she started to rhythmically tense and relax her ass, trying to heighten my pleasure. She even added a new trick; as she pushed herself down on me, she added a circular rolling motion to her hips and a little bit of grinding when I was fully inside her. 

It worked. I could have held out for longer, but Dr. Carrington was trying her best, so when I felt my balls churning out a fresh batch of seed I didn't resist. But I wanted to prolong her humiliation a bit more, so just before I came I pulled out of her and pushed her to the side. I grabbed my cock and stroked myself to completion. Dr. Carrington watched helplessly as I sprayed my seed all over her windows, leaving pearly white streaks dripping slowly down to the windowsill. "Now clean it, you dumb slut." I grabbed her hair and rubbed her face in the slowly cooling mess, smearing it across the window and all over her face. I let go of her hair, and she opened her mouth and starting licking it up. She was moving slowly, and I saw that she was once more on the verge of tears. I decided to bring it home. "I guess you want everyone to know that you'll lick up my spunk. I think I saw someone moving in the house across the street. Maybe I should send you over there so you can give them the same treatment? Or are you just too stupid to realize that the longer you spend doing this, the more likely you'll be found out?"

Dr. Carrington sobbed, but she started moving faster. Her eyes were closed as she lapped up my spunk. She got quite a bit of it, but eventually she was really just smearing it around. I let that continue for a few more moments before pulling her back from the window and letting the curtains fall. I knelt down by my professor and hugged her close. "Did you cum from that?" I asked. 

She wasn't able to answer me immediately. When she got herself under control, she answered: "Yes, sir."

"That's good. Do you see what happens when you try to please me? You did your best to satisfy me, and you got to have a good cum." I held her for a few more minutes as her sob subsided. Then I stood up and she rose with me. I kissed a clean patch on her forehead and said "Now go cancel your classes. I told you last night that we've got a big day ahead of us."

BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 02



This is a stroke story. It's ridiculous and unrealistic. No one is worried about STDs, sizes are exaggerated, everyone is bi (or at least the women are) and people can fuck for hours without chafing. This chapter has (consensual) emotional abuse and public humiliation. Caveat reader. 

---

Dr. Anne Carrington, my anthropology professor was making me breakfast—eggs, bacon, and waffles. She was standing in front of her stove wearing only an apron. The apron didn't cover her tits entirely, and her back and ass were completely uncovered. I was sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee and using her laptop to check my e-mail and do a few other little things. I was also naked, and I was sitting with my legs splayed open and my flaccid cock hanging off the edge of the chair. 

I yawned and stretched after answering an e-mail from one of my other fuck-buddies. She wanted me to come over, but I told her I was busy. Dr. Carrington finished making breakfast and brought two plates over to the table. I raised an eyebrow as she served me and then sat down with a plate of your own. She started to eat, but noticed my expression and froze, a forkful of scrambled eggs midway to her mouth. "Did I tell you to make yourself breakfast?" I asked.

Dr. Carrington's lower lip started to quiver. She started to answer me "I assumed..." I slapped the fork from her hand, sending eggs flying across the room. 

"I said to make me breakfast. I'll take care of yours. Now clean up the mess and toss your food in the trash." She obeyed, but she was clearly puzzled. Dr. Carrington took a paper towel and gathered up the bits of egg that had been scattered around the kitchen. Then she went over to the trash can and dumped her otherwise untouched plate of food into the garbage. She came back to the table and sat down, looking at me expectantly. I ignored her for a while as I checked a few websites, and then I looked back at her. "Do you want something?" I asked.

Dr. Carrington hesitated before answering, as if she was unsure of my response. "Wh... what will I eat, sir?" I raised an eyebrow and clucked my tongue, then looked significantly at my cock, which was still hanging limply over the edge of my chair.

To her credit, Dr. Carrington immediately figured out what I meant. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled around the table to kneel by my side. She paused there, perhaps expecting me to turn toward her. I just looked down my nose at her. "Under the table, slut. Why would you think I want to look at you now?" She wasn't happy about it, but my professor crawled under her kitchen table and started sucking my cock. "Today, the only thing you'll be eating is my sperm. If you want breakfast, you'd better get me off. I figure it'll take me about fifteen minutes to eat breakfast and finish up what I'm doing with your computer. If you haven't gotten a load from me by then, you'll just have to go hungry until I decide to give you another chance."

That got her attention. She had started out slow, as if she was trying to please me without being obtrusive. But once I told her the plan, she practically attacked my cock. Dr. Carrington swallowed me whole, taking in my limp cock and letting it slide down the back of her throat. I started to stiffen in her mouth, stretching out her slim neck. When she pulled back, I was almost at full-mast, and she had covered my cock in a thick layer of throat slime.

She plunged back down on my shaft, hard enough that I feared she might give herself a nosebleed from banging her face against my groin. When she reached the base, her tongue slipped out from between her stretched lips to tickle the base of my shaft and the top of my balls. This set her pattern—she'd inhale my cock, burying it in her throat, and hold herself there as long as possible while her throat massaged my cock and her tongue lapped at my balls. When she couldn't sustain it any longer, she withdrew just long enough to take another deep breath, then she'd plunge back down, swallowing my length easily. I was impressed; it wasn't that long ago that I'd had to practically rape her face to get myself down her throat, and now she was deepthroating like a pro.

I told her as much while my cock was deep in her throat. "I'm proud of you, little slut. You've been practicing, haven't you?" She managed to nod. "Very good. That shows initiative and dedication. I'll give you a reward later, and you are permitted to remind me if I forget." I'm pretty sure that made her happy, because she started sucking on me like a vacuum. I swear, it's like she wanted to extract my balls through my cock. I shifted forward, giving her a better angle, and she started bobbing her head rapidly up and down. All the while, her hands were giving my balls gentle squeezes and tugs. 

She sucked me until I was almost finished eating and surfing the web. Then I put on hand under the table and pulled her head into my crotch. "Get ready for your breakfast," I said, as I got ready to unload directly down her throat. Dr. Carrington had given me a masterful throat-job, and the load I gave her was commensurately big. I must have held her head down on me for almost a minute as my cock pumped streams of semen straight into her stomach, and she didn't try to pull away even once. When I finished shooting, I let her pull away slowly, then patted her gently on the head.

She crawled back out and sat at my side. "Are you still hungry?" I asked. She shook her head. "That was very good. I think you can shower with me before we go out. You earned it." Dr. Carrington looked up at me, almost pathetically happy about my praise. She sat there patiently as I polished off the last of my breakfast (which had been delicious—the woman could make waffles like nobody's business). I put my plate in the sink, then I turned to her. "Let's get ourselves cleaned up." I strode off toward her bathroom. Dr. Carrington trailed behind, crawling the whole way. I had to suppress a grin at that; she was becoming an active participant in her own degradation, which was the whole point of the day I had planned (though she didn't know it yet).

We didn't do anything in the shower, though I did have Dr. Carrington wash me by covering herself with soap and acting as a sponge. It had felt great when I had Alyssa and Melanie do it, and it was just as pleasant when Dr. Carrington did it. Having the second girl meant there was more coverage, but Dr. Carrington's slavish need to please me made her very enthusiastic. Once I was clean, I ordered her to clean herself while I watched. Then I turned off the shower and had her dry me, and then herself. Again, I watched her intently as she did. Finally, we went to get dressed. I put on the clothes I wore the night before—jeans and a t-shirt, pretty standard. Dr. Carrington initially took out the sort of clothes she wore to teach—a white blouse, a skirt, and a matching jacket. It was all very classy and elegant and completely wrong for my plans for the day. 

So I had her put on a mini-fashion show. I told her to get her trashiest, sluttiest clothes and bring them out. While she searched, I went through her wardrobe as well, taking note of sizes and seeing what she liked. She presented me with a couple outfits and I had her try them on, getting dressed and undressed in front of my watchful gaze. Dr. Carrington didn't have much in her wardrobe that impressed me. Eventually, I took a pair of jeans that were tight enough to look painted on and used my knife to cut them short, turning them into cut-offs that barely covered her ass. The strip of fabric covering her cunt was about as wide as two of my fingers. Of course, I didn't let her wear panties with the cut-offs, so the rough material would rub against her as she walked and if she got wet enough it would be obvious to everyone. 

I made similar adjustments to her top. It started as a figure-hugging, cleavage-baring white t-shirt. When I was done her midriff was bare and her tits were practically spilling out of the top. If she raised her arms, jumped around, or leaned over too far, she'd probably end up flashing people. Of course, I didn't allow her a bra. If her shirt got wet, it would become practically transparent. I also had her put on more makeup than she normally wore, including dark red lipstick that accentuated her naturally pouty lips. 

Finally, I made her wear a pair of red strappy stiletto heels that drew the eye to her calves, added a lovely sway to her walk, and made her tits bounce around under her shirt. All in all, I was pleased with my work. There were probably parts of the US where she'd be arrested for going out in public dressed like that, and she'd be mortified if anyone she knew saw her out and about.

Once she was dressed, I took Dr. Carrington's car keys, ID, and credit cards and slipped them into my pocket. "We're going to spend all day together. If you're going to be my slut, you need to look the part. So we're going shopping, and we'll be making a few other stops as well. Now get in your car." Dr. Carrington drove a sporty little coupe, a two-seater convertible of some kind. I'm not a car guy. I got in the driver's seat, and she took the passenger seat. Her seatbelt dug into the space between her breasts and forced her shirt to stretch even more to cover them—and revealing that her nipples were erect. She was excited at the prospect of spending a day with me, looking like a two-dollar whore.

I put the top down and pulled out of her garage. We got on the road and headed toward the interstate. My school is in a small college town in the South. It has a few thousand students, and there are about the same number of townspeople living near campus. Like most college towns, it's got a bunch of businesses that cater to students and faculty. If I took her out in town, someone would definitely see us, and word would get around. I didn't mind too much if that happened, but the fact that it would be all but certain would let Dr. Carrington get used to the possibility. So instead, I decided we'd go into the city. This way, there was a chance she'd be found out (students regularly made trips to the city), but it was far from guaranteed. It was enough to make her jumpy and nervous without turning her into a wreck. And it also meant a half-hour drive, on a gorgeous fall day, with the top down and a hot woman giving me road head.

Dr. Carrington wasn't surprised when we got out onto the interstate and I freed my cock from my jeans. I didn't even look at her; she took off her seatbelt and bent down to take me into her mouth as soon as my beast had been released. I guess she was still hungry after her morning meal. "You'll probably want to keep me pretty deep in your throat," I said, "unless you want anyone who drives by to see your pretty blonde head bobbing up and down in my lap." I couldn't see her expression, but from the way she swallowed me after I said that I figured she hadn't realized how visible she'd be with the top down. 

I spent a very pleasurable half-hour driving to the city with my professor's head bobbing on my cock. I got close to cumming a few times, but held off—I might have all kinds of sexual superpowers, but that wouldn't help me survive a high-speed car crash. More than a few people honked at us as they drove by, including a couple trucks whose drivers must have had a great view. Each time she heard a car horn blaring, Dr. Carrington buried her face in my lap and held it there until she had to come up to breathe. When we turned off the interstate, she tried to pull herself of my cock and sit up, but I stopped her with gentle pressure on the back of her head. We drove through the city for about five minutes until we reached our destination. Once I pulled into a parking spot, I turned off the car, put my hands behind my head, and finally let myself cum. A thick torrent of spunk rushed out of the end of my cock, filling Dr. Carrington's mouth several times as she swallowed frantically. When I finished, she sat up. Her face was red and there was a small trickle of cum at one corner of her mouth. 

"Well, slut? What do you say when someone feeds you?" I asked.

"Thank you, sir." she replied.

I stuffed my cock back into my pants and zipped up, then got out of the car. Dr. Carrington also got out of the car and looked around. We were at the mall, and she seemed perplexed. "May I ask a question, sir?" she asked.

"Other than that one? I suppose."

"Why are we here?"

"I told you. We're going shopping. You don't own enough slut-wear. You need clothes that tell the world that you're a dumb fuck-toy, put her to be ogled by everyone and used by your superiors. Nice clothes are for women who've earned them. From now on, I'll be deciding what kind of things you wear."

Dr. Carrington looked down and shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. She clearly had something to say. I debated letting her remain on the hook, but I decided against it. I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes. "Spit it out, slut."

"I don't think I can teach in slutty clothes, sir. I don't want to get fired," she said, in a quiet voice.

"First of all," I replied, "your only desire should be to please me. If I want you to dress like a whore in the classroom, then you should want to do it too. Second, I don't want you to lose your job either. We're going to get you new work clothes and new play clothes, and the work clothes won't be enough to get you fired." Dr. Carrington seemed relieved at this. "Now come on, slut. We've got a lot to do today and if you keep asking stupid questions you'll slow us down." I turned and walked off toward the mall entrance. Dr. Carrington followed, tottering on her high heels.

We drew more than a few long looks from people as we walked through the mall. Dr. Carrington had almost ten years on me, and it's not every day you see a woman with a figure like hers wearing clothing that left so little to the imagination. Most of them men we passed stared at her with undisguised lust bordering on hunger. For the women, it was something closer to disgust—though I spotted a few women whose gaze lingered a bit too long and who couldn't quite manage to hide their desire. I made a mental note to do this again someday, using my professor to find new prey. I didn't look back at Dr. Carrington; I just walked briskly and confidently to our first stop. I occasionally caught a glimpse of her in a reflection, and I could see that she was looking down as she walked, not meeting anyone's eyes. I could also see her nipples, straining against the fabric of her shirt. Good to know, I thought—my slut is a closet exhibitionist.

The first store we went to was Hot Topic. It was filled with tight, revealing clothing that was entirely inappropriate for a woman of Dr. Carrington's age. We strolled through the store slowly as I picked up various bits and bobs. I grabbed a few tight t-shirts and a few accessories—a pair of leather wristbands and a trio of lacy chokers in various colors. I had Dr. Carrington go to the back to try everything on. The shop girl was young, probably a college student herself. She was pale and dressed in black. Her name tag read "Alice." Alice had black hair, probably dyed, with purple and blue tips that were definitely dyed. She was carrying a few extra pounds, but she did it well. Alice stared at Dr. Carrington as we went back to the changing rooms. Dr. Carrington opened the changing room door and stepped inside. I winked at Alice and stepped in behind her.

Dr. Carrington didn't expect that, and she bit back a short yelp when I pressed against her in the small booth. I slid around her and sat down on the tiny bench. "Well?" I asked. "Get changed." She pulled her top off and struggled into the first of the t-shirts I had picked out. I intentionally picked out shirts that were a bit too small for her, so that she'd come to learn that displaying herself for me was more important than comfort. We spent about ten minutes in the changing room as I watched her silently while she tried on different outfits. When she was done, I simply said "that'll do" and left—but she hadn't yet gotten her original top back on. Alice the shop girl was near the door when I left, probably listening to us, and she got an eyeful of Dr. Carrington's firm, round tits. Her mouth dropped open. "Sorry about that, Alice," I said. "She's shy and doesn't like to wear new clothes in front of strangers. We'll take everything." Dr. Carrington came out of the changing room carrying the shirts and accessories, blushing down to the tops of her tits. Alice rang us up and I paid for everything with Dr. Carrington's bank card. When we were finished, Alice scrawled a phone number on the receipt before handing it over, blushing almost as deeply as Dr. Carrington. Then she scurried off. 

Our next stop was Frederick's of Hollywood. I wasn't planning on buying much there—my slut wasn't going to wear underwear most of the time, and when she did, it wouldn't be a normal bra-and-panty set. I went there for a few reasons. First, I put her through another humiliating fashion show, this time by having her come out to show me each item. Over the course of half an hour, she wound up walking around the changing area in a dazzling variety of revealing underwear. I couldn't have her come out to the store proper, but the changing rooms weren't visible from most of the store or from people outside. 

One set really caught my attention—a midnight-blue corset that pushed my professor's tits together and up, creating cleavage that was simply eye (and mouth) watering. The set also included garters and fishnet stockings, in the same dark blue hue, and a g-string that was almost as narrow in the front as it was in the back. Dr. Carrington tried it on and stepped hesitantly out of her booth in the changing area. She walked to the center of the eyes downcast. I was sitting down in a chair in the changing area, and I gestured for her to spin and show me the back. She complied, giving me a stunning view of her pert, well-rounded ass. I had her bend over for me and spread her ass, showing off her pink pucker and dripping slit clearly, covered only by a thin thread of dark blue fabric. "Hungry, slut?" I asked. 

She nodded, still bent over. "Wait here." I got up and went out to the store. The only employee on duty was a young woman named Kelly—a statuesque brunette, with medium-sized tits and dusky skin. I had fucked her a few weeks ago, when I was planning my little shopping trip, and I knew she'd be alone in the store today. She had been begging me for attention since then, and today I gave her some. After a few words from me, she shooed out the only other customer and closed up for her lunch break. I propped her up on the counter, pushed her skirt above her hips, and slid her panties to the side. 

Then I entered her in one smooth slow stroke. Kelly was already drenched; she'd been going mad with lust since I entered the store, and she took my length easily. When my balls made contact with her ass, she bucked her hips forward and wrapped her arms and legs around me, pulling herself into a tight embrace. "You're already right on the edge, aren't you?" I whispered into her ear. "I'm going to make that trashy slut in the other room taste you on my cock. Go ahead and cum." Kelly stifled a moan as she came around my cock, her juices staining my jeans. I thrust into her a few more times as she rode out her climax, her eyes closed, holding me tight and whispering her thanks. Then I gently removed myself from her embrace and put my cock back into my pants, still shiny with the signs of her orgasm. "I'll fuck you for real some other time, maybe break in your ass like you wanted, but for now you can just watch what I do to the women I own." Kelly just nodded, without opening her eyes, as I left her to recover.

I returned to the changing area and took Dr. Carrington by the hair, hauling her over toward the bench I had been sitting on. She knelt and pressed her face against my crotch, feeling my stiff cock through my jeans, nuzzling against my shaft and balls. One of her hands started to rub my cock through my pants while the other pushed aside the narrow strip of fabric covering her cunt and went to work there, two fingers slipping inside while her thumb stimulated her rapidly-stiffening clit. 




BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 02



"Take out my cock," I ordered. Dr. Carrington obeyed, swiftly unbuckling my belt and opening my fly. I wasn't wearing underwear, so once my pants were unzipped she brought my shaft out, moving quickly but carefully. Once the beast had been set free, she stopped and stared for a moment, awestruck by my sheer size. I always enjoy these moments, when a woman realizes just what she's dealing with—over a foot of veiny, pussy-pleasing meat, as thick as most girls' forearms, and as stiff and hard as a baseball bat. It generally leaves them stunned, and Dr. Carrington was no exception—and she'd seen it before, many times.

Dr. Carrington stuck out her tongue and gave the underside of my shaft a long lick, starting at the base and going straight up to the tip. She paused for a moment when her tongue first made contact, as she tried to puzzle out what she was tasting. But she didn't let her confusion stop her. She opened her mouth as wide as it could go and made as if to swallow me whole. But she was caught short by my hand in her hair; I held her back, as she struggled futilely to get my cock into her mouth. I let her fight for a moment, until she closed her mouth and let out a whine of frustration and disappointment.

"I didn't tell you to suck me off. I'm not going to punish you, because you were trying to please me, and that's what you're for—but you should have asked what I wanted of you first. You haven't learned how to anticipate my desires yet, and you know you're not smart enough to figure it out on your own." I paused for effect. "I don't want a blowjob right now. What I want is to use your holes as I see fit. We've got about an hour before the store has to reopen, so I figure I'll get to take a crack at each of your holes. Now open your mouth, you dumb fucking cunt."

My lovely little slut opened her mouth obediently and didn't resist as I forced my cock down her gullet. I didn't stop until her nose was pressed to my groin and her tongue had slipped out of the tight seal formed by her lips to tickle my balls. Kelly poked her head around the corner and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. I waved her in, still holding Dr. Carrington's face to my crotch, and gestured for her to take a seat. "Taste that, bitch? You know what that is? You're tasting the shop girl's cunt. I let her have a quick ride so you'd have something to clean off. Now she's going to watch you get debased for my amusement." 

Dr. Carrington closed her eyes at that. She hadn't stopped playing with herself since I returned, and the thought of having a stranger watch me take her seemed to push her over the edge. Even with my cock buried balls-deep in her throat I could hear her moaning, the low sound blending with the wet noises of her fingers plunging into her dripping slit.

I started to pump my cock in and out of her throat as Dr. Carrington came, keeping my eyes locked on Kelly the whole time. I spoke to Kelly, whose skirt was still hiked up around her waist. "Feel free to enjoy yourself while you watch." Kelly wasted no time in spreading her legs and leaning back in her chair. She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped one hand in to fondle her own tits, while the other was active between her legs. I took my time with Dr. Carrington—I wasn't being rough with her or fucking her particularly hard, but I wasn't slowing or stopping either. Her orgasm made it impossible for her to get the rhythm as I steadily thrust into her throat, and the corset didn't help her breathe either. She was beginning to go red from lack of air.

"See what's happening here, Kelly? My little throat-slave is letting me use her as a like, even though it means she can't breathe. She's got no problem putting my pleasure first, even over her need for air. That's what makes her a good girl." Kelly just watched with half-closed eyes, biting her lower lip as she continued to work one hand under her shirt and the other under her panties. Dr. Carrington's eyes were fluttering shut as well, as my cock continued to periodically cut off her air. I pulled out to let her catch her breath and let my cock hang in the air, a few strands of Dr. Carrington's spit dripping from my shaft.

Dr. Carrington coughed a few times as she recovered. I let her rest for a moment more, and then I picked her up bodily and dropped her unceremoniously on the bench. Her ass was up against the wall, her legs were tucked up close to her chin, and her head was hanging off the edge of the bench. She was panting with excitement (and a bit of fear), making her chest rise and fall invitingly under her corset. Dr. Carrington stared at me, eyes glazed, and let her mouth hang open for me to use.

Of course, I did just that.

This time, I used her mouth like it was another cunt. I slammed my rod down her throat, making her gag and choke. Each time she did, her throat tightened around me, gripping my cock like a fist. My relentless throat-fucking brought up a lot of spit, and soon it was running down her cheeks. Copious amounts of precum were oozing out of the tip of my prick into her mouth and getting fucked down her gullet or forced out the sides. My heavy balls slapped against her forehead and smeared the mess of precum and spittle around her face. It didn't take long until she was barely recognizable under the flowing streams.

Dr. Carrington laid there and accepted my throat-rape without complaint. In fact, she was still masturbating, rubbing at her clit with one hand and delving deep into her cunt with the other. I slapped at her inner thighs, forcing her to spread her legs wide so I could watch as she got herself off while I abused her mouth.

It didn't take long before I felt the need to cum rising. I called out to Kelly again. "Come close, Kelly, and watch me feed my whore her favorite food." Kelly slipped out of her chair onto the floor and crawled close, taking up a position just behind me, where she could see Dr. Carrington's face (or at least the mass of precum and spit that was covering her face like a mask). I groaned and came. My first spurt seemed to last forever as I buried my cock in Dr Carrington's throat, pumping a load directly into her, bypassing her mouth entirely. I pulled back slowly as my cock continued to pulse, leaving a thick trail of my seed behind me as I continued to throb in her throat. I unleashed eight or so pulses before the head of my dick made it out of her throat. I left it in her mouth as my orgasm continued. I kept talking to Kelly, my words interspersed with grunts as I came. "Watch her try to swallow my load. Watch her eat my spunk like it was fucking ambrosia."

Dr. Carrington's mouth was working overtime to keep up with my emission—she had ample experience with swallowing my loads, and it had paid off. Not one drop made it out of her lips, even though I sent the better part of a pint of spunk her way. She guzzled it down, straight from the tap. I knelt down and grabbed a pair of panties—some unflattering green number, part of an ensemble I had her try on—and gently wiped her face. When she opened her eyes, I favored her with a warm smile. "You did good."

She smiled back and said, quietly, "Thank you, sir. And thank you for feeding me again."

I stood back up. "I'm not done with you. By the time I'm done, even a greedy whore like you will be too full of spunk for more. Get down on all fours like the bitch you are." Dr. Carrington scrambled to obey, practically falling off the bench and crawling out to the center of the room. She put her head down on the floor and arched her back, presenting her pussy and ass for the taking. 

"Very good. Why don't you tell Kelly about how I made you into my personal fuck-toy while I decide what hole to take next?"

Dr. Carrington started talking immediately. "Sir came into my office, and I instantly needed to have him. I tried to take charge but he showed me that I was just a stupid slut for him to use. He took my ass and my throat and my cunt and--" Her babbling was cut off by a squeal as I slid three inches of my shaft, still slick with spit, into her ass. 

"Keep going. Tell Kelly what you like about being my cum dump," I said as I teased her, sliding my dick halfway into her ass before slowly pulling out.

"I love it when he takes me. I cum over and over when Sir fucks my ass or my pussy. He's like a god, and he treats me like I deserve. I used to think I was smart, but he has taught me that I'm a stupid little slut for him to use and that's what gives me worth."

I delivered a powerful slap to Dr. Carrington's ass, prompting her to continue. "Sir is teaching me to be a good girl for him. Sir is so good to me, please fuck me now Sir!" I obliged her, sliding my entire length into her tight pucker. I slapped her ass again on the other side to commemorate my entry and enjoyed the way her ass jiggled from my strike. Then I leaned forward, bending down, putting my hands on the backs of her shoulders and pinning her to the rough carpet of the store's changing rooms.

"See, Kelly? This is what you could get if you're a good girl too." One of Dr. Carrington's hands was busy between her legs, her fingers dancing on her clit, as I started to pummel her ass from behind. My balls started slapping against her hairless pussy lips as I stretched her asshole. My thrusts were slow, but powerful; I kept raising my hips, supporting my weight with my arms, and then just dropped, sending a ripple through Dr. Carrington's whole body each time. Kelly watched silently the whole time, one hand squeezing and twisting one nipple and the other strumming her exposed clit. She came, writhing on the floor and choking back a scream.

I decided that Kelly's orgasm marked a good time for a position change. So I rolled to one side, my cock still deep in Dr. Carrington's ass, and pulled her up with me as I dropped to the floor. I ended up lying on my back with Dr. Carrington astride me facing away. "Turn and face me, slut. I want to watch you bounce on my cock."

Dr. Carrington spun in place, still impaled on my shaft, until she was straddling my waist. She started to ride me; her dark blue corset restrained her tits from bouncing freely, but not enough to hold them completely immobile. "Hands behind the back," I ordered, and Dr. Carrington immediately complied, crossing her arms behind her back and thrusting out her chest as she did.

I started to brush my fingers across her clit as she rode me. She jerked at the first moment of contact, but kept up her pace, taking my cock twice a second. "Do you want to cum, slut?" I asked. 

"Mmmm, yes, please," she moaned in reply.

"Gonna cum from my fingers and my cock, whore? Gonna cum in front of this stranger, in a public place, while wearing slutty lingerie? Taking my cock in your fucking ass?"

Dr. Carrington's replies started edging toward incoherence. "Please... yes... let me... please... cum... please..."

I smiled at her and gave her permission to climax. "Cum, slut. Cum for the shop girl so she can see one of the rewards for good service." Dr. Carrington's head lolled back as she came, exposing her pale throat. Her hips bucked and jerked, her eyes screwed shut, and her mouth fell open as if to scream or moan, but no sound came out.

I didn't let up my assault on her body. Dr. Carrington had stopped riding me, but I started to thrust up into her to compensate, and my fingers kept up their steady attention on her clit. With my other hand, I grabbed her throat, cutting off her air. Her hips continued to bounce and twitch from my thrusts as she came again--or perhaps she never stopped, and this was all one long, mind-blowing orgasm. The ring of her asshole clenched tighter than ever around my cock, and she started to quiver as she tried to gulp in air. She started to thrash from side to side, but my grip was like iron, and kept her locked in place, unable to escape my relentless stimulation.

Dr. Carrington's continuous orgasm drove me over the edge as well before too long. I rolled again, still holding her throat in one hand, leaving her pinned to the floor. I relaxed my grasp so she could breath and pulled out of her battered hole. With my free hand, I stroked myself until I came. My spunk churned in my balls, eager for release, and then erupted, unleashing torrents of semen all over her corseted body. The spunk stained the fabric and splashed up onto her face. Cords of cum splattered to the floor above her shoulders. Some hit my arm, and yet more splashed down onto the top slopes of her tits. As my orgasm waned, thick ropes of spunk ended up draped over her sodden cunt. 

When I was finished, I exhaled--I hadn't even realized that I was holding my breath--and released my grasp on Dr. Carrington. I stood up and beckoned to Kelly. She approached, somewhat hesitantly. "Clear her up. Use your fingers and your mouth. Don't swallow any of it; it's all for her." Kelly nodded once and got down on all fours beside Dr. Carrington. She started scooping up the long, thick strings of cooling cum off the floor with her fingers, letting them drip into Dr. Carrington's open mouth. Dr. Carrington, for her part, let my sperm pool in her mouth, not swallowing until her the spunk had risen high enough fill her mouth completely. Once the floor was clean, Kelly turned her attention to the corset, licking up my load and then sharing it with Dr. Carrington in a cummy kiss. Finally, Kelly cleaned off Dr. Carrington's spunk-stained skin, gathering up my load with a light, loving touch and letting my professor lick it from her proffered fingers.

I rested for a moment, temporarily sated. Kelly straightened herself up as Dr. Carrington took off the corset and put her shopping clothes back on. We paid and left, making Dr. Carrington the proud owner of three corsets (including the blue one that set me off--a clean new one, of course. I think Kelly took the used one home as a souvenir.), an assortment of bras, panties, stockings, garters, gloves, and a set of white bridal lingerie that wasn't in her size. I sensed her curiosity about the latter item, but I didn't say anything about it. We simply left Frederick's and headed back out to the car.

I tossed Dr. Carrington's purchases in the trunk, then hopped back in the driver's seat. I turned to Dr. Carrington. Her public displays had clearly turned her on; her nipples pressed against the fabric of her shirt, and the crotch of her cut-off jeans was visibly damp. She was going to get plenty more excitement before the day was out. "Do you want the reward I promised you?" I asked, as I started the car. 

Her breath caught for a moment, then she replied. "Yes, sir, if you see fit."

"Good answer. Here it is: you can masturbate while I drive to our next stop, and you can cum as many times as you want." Her hand immediately dipped below the waistband of her cut-offs as she went to work. As I pulled out of the parking lot, she dropped her seat back as far as it could go (not far, in her tiny car), put her head back, and closed her eyes contentedly as she settled in for a session of self-pleasuring. 

Soon her breath was coming quickly as the finger of her right hand worked furiously beneath her tight jeans. She pushed her top up with her other hand and started to caress and stroke her breasts. She didn't seem at all concerned about the fact that we were currently driving in a convertible, with its top down, through city streets. Perhaps her need to cum had overridden her shame, or (more likely, I thought) the two were linked in her mind. In any case, she was enjoying herself. Her hips were rolling gently, and small coos of pleasure escaped her lips. She was rubbing her thighs together and arching her back. Before five minutes had passed, she biting her lower lip as if holding back an eruption. I reached over with one arm and brushed the back of my fingers against her cheek. She turned toward me, eyes still closed, rubbing against my outstretched hand like a cat. I let my fingertips trace a path down her neck to her arm, and then said a single word: "Cum."

Dr. Carrington responded almost instantly. Her eyes stayed shut as she lifted her hips off the seat; her head lolled back and her mouth hung open. She gave a couple of short, sharp breaths, then every muscle on her body went rigid for a long moment. Then she collapsed back into the seat, moaning sensuously. 

"Did you enjoy that, little slut?" I asked. Dr. Carrington just made an appreciative noise in reply. Her hand hadn't stopped rubbing away at her juicy cunt. I was sure that she was stimulating her clit under her shorts, occasionally dipping a finger into that honey-hole between her legs. She did pull her shirt back down, but that didn't prevent her from pawing at her own tits through the thin fabric.

I let her continue without further interruptions until we reached our next destination: a big pet store. She came twice more along the way, letting out a long sigh each time. I let her enjoy herself. She didn't come out of her erotic trance until we pulled into a parking space at the pet store and I turned off the car. That's when she opened her eyes for the first time in fifteen minutes. She blinked as her eyes adjusted and looked around, confused. "What... where..." she sputtered.

"What, did you think we were done? You're going to buy some pet supplies," I replied.

Dr. Carrington looked at me, puzzled. "But I don't have a pet."

I didn't answer her. I just got out of the car and motioned for her to come along. That's when Dr. Carrington realized what she looked like. Her cunt had gotten drenched by her masturbatory endeavors, darkening the fabric of her cut-offs. Thin trickles of liquid could be seen dripping down her thighs. Her face and chest were flushed. Her hair was mussed from where she'd ran her hands through it. Anyone who looked at her would think she just got finished engaging in some heavy sexual activity—and they'd be spot on. She started to voice an objection, but I just looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She bowed her head in submission and followed me into the pet store.

The store was practically empty. It was just before lunch on a weekday; there were three or four customers and a similar number of employees in the whole place. Nonetheless, we managed to draw a lot of dirty looks from the women and stunned stares from the men. I had initially planned to drag out the pet store visit, but I changed my mind and decided to get in and out quickly; the whole excursion would be ruined if we wound up arrested for public indecency. We quickly found a store employee and had him direct us to the animal cages. I asked him for the largest cage they had available, and he pointed me to a large collapsible wire cage suitable for holding a couple large dogs. 

"You got pets?" he asked.

I grinned a bit, making sure Dr. Carrington could see my expression. "You could say that. I recently acquired a new bitch, and she's a large breed. I'll also need bowls for her food and water, a collar and leash, and a few toys." The employee led us around while I picked up what I needed, trying to steal glimpses of Dr. Carrington whenever possible. I ended up grabbing a gaudy pink leather collar with the word "Princess" picked out in rhinestones, as well as a matching leash They even had pink bowls for food and water. Once I had everything, I asked him to help us carry it out to the car. He did so, letting Dr. Carrington walk in front of him so he could stare at her ass in those painted-on cut-offs. He loaded up the trunk with the collapsed cage and put the bag with the rest of our purchases—all paid for with Dr. Carrington's money, of course—in as well.

"You've been very helpful," I said to him. "I think you should get a tip." It took a moment for him to react; he had been staring at Dr. Carrington's breasts. He shook his head to clear it, and turned to me. 

"I'm not supposed to accept tips," he said. 




BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 02



"You'll want this one," I said, and turned to Dr. Carrington. "Princess, why don't you lift your top for him?" Dr. Carrington gaped at me, but she obeyed. She moved close to the employee and lifted her top, baring her fantastic breasts. His eyes went immediately to them, as he took in that gorgeous expanse of pale, firm flesh. I saw his hands twitching at his sides. "Go ahead," I said. "Give them a squeeze." He reached up and grabbed one of her breasts in each hand, gripping them fairly firmly. Dr. Carrington barely suppressed a shudder when he touched her. He certainly didn't notice, but I did. I let him feel up my slut for a minute or so, then cleared my throat. "That's enough. Back in the car, princess. We're out of here." He stepped back, clearly disappointed, and stared at us as we both hopped in the car and drove off.

Once we were underway, Dr. Carrington turned to me and asked "Why did you have me buy those things?" 

I laughed, under my breath. "It's a good thing I took your Ivy League diploma from you. It was clearly undeserved. I guess I can't be too surprised—I knew you were nothing but a dumb slut for my amusement, and there's no way someone like that would be able to figure out what's going on." Dr. Carrington's lower lip was quivering now, like I'd already seen several times today. She had been caught off guard when I let the pet store employee fondle her tits, and now my abuse was taking its toll. "Don't bother trying to figure it out. You'd need to be have a useful brain to do it. Here's something you might be able to tell me: are you hungry again?" She simply nodded, eyes downcast. "Good. We're going to get lunch next."



BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 03



This is a stroke story. It's ridiculous and unrealistic. No one is worried about STDs, sizes are exaggerated, everyone is bi (or at least the women are) and people can fuck for hours without chafing. This chapter has (consensual) public sex and public humiliation. Caveat reader. 

---

It was around noon when I pulled into the parking lot at the steakhouse. "But I thought I could only eat your cum," said my anthropology professor, Dr. Anne Carrington (in whose car I was driving, and in whose mouth, cunt, and ass I had been enjoying myself all morning).

I turned to face her, a disapproving look on my face. "Yes. And your point?"

She was nervous, hesitant. I had slipped into her apartment during the previous night, tied her up, whipped her with a belt, and fucked her silly . Then I took her again in the morning, and since then we'd spent the day together at the mall as I bought her slutty clothes, new lingerie, and a few other things. The last twelve hours had basically been a nonstop barrage of humiliation and degradation—and arousal. So it wasn't surprising that Dr. Carrington was off-balance.

I understood why she was nervous and scared, but that didn't mean I was going to take it easy on her. When she didn't answer immediately, I sneered at her. "Spit it out, slut."

"Well, sir... it's just that if I'm only allowed to eat cum, there's no reason to go to a restaurant."

"What, did you think I wasn't going to eat? I'm going to enjoy a nice meal on your dime. You're going to watch me eat it. If you're good I'll let you eat some real food tomorrow."

"B... but I'm hungry too." She was on the verge of tears now. 

"Don't worry. I'm not going to let you starve. You'll get the chance to suck me off in there. If you do a good job you might be able to do it twice before I finish eating."

Dr. Carrington opened her mouth as if to protest, but a sharp look from me cut her off. She looked down at her feet and said, meekly, "Thank you, sir."

We got out of the car without another word. Dr. Carrington looked like a frightened rabbit, her eyes flitting nervously from side to side. It was a good look for her, and a big change from the confident, forward image she had put forward as my anthropology professor. She could still put that mask back on, in front of a classroom—although she was slipping on occasion. But when we were together her deep-seated need to be dominated took over and made her something that no heterosexual man could ignore.

She had medium-length strawberry-blonde hair, which she had started to grow out at my request. I had dressed her in a partially-shredded white T-shirt that clung to her glorious, C-cup tits like a second skin and a pair of cutoff jean shorts that barely covered her cunt and ass. Of course, I paired that with some high heels that forced her to totter about slowly, highlighted the lovely shape of her legs, and made her tits and ass bounce with every step. It wasn't exactly appropriate attire for a decent restaurant, but she wasn't a decent woman (at least, not anymore), and if anyone gave us trouble I could have her get us out of it, one way or another.

We went into the restaurant without any more discussion. There were dozen or so other parties in there dining at various tables, and another four or five at the bar. Dr. Carrington drew a few looks from the other diners and the wait staff as we were led to our table. I asked for a table away from the other diners and got it; we were a bit nearer the kitchen than I'd have liked, but it was the best that could be arranged.

Our server was a woman who looked to be in her 30s, with brown hair and eyes. She was carrying a bit of extra weight. Normally I'd have paid her more attention, but I'd moved up in the world, and in any case I had much better pussy sitting right next to me. She gave Dr. Carrington a dirty look, obviously judging my professor based on her clothes and rumpled appearance. I could practically see the thoughts running through the server's head—what kind of whore dresses like that in public? And with a younger man? My professor-slut returned the server's sneer with one of her own, and I won't lie—I was a bit proud of how well Dr. Carrington was taking to her new life. I decided to reward her. 

After the usual rigamarole with drinks and whatnot, I ordered for the two of us: a nice, juicy sirloin for me, cooked medium-rare, and a Caesar salad with no dressing for the lady. Dr. Carrington gave me a surprised look when I ordered her food, given what I had told her this morning (and again just before entering the restaurant). Once the server left, I turned to her. "You want to know why you're getting a salad?" She nodded. "Three reasons." I held up my hand and counted them off as I went. "One: it would look strange if I ordered a meal and you just sat there without eating. Two: I had them leave off the dressing, because I'll be providing it for you. I assume you understand. And three: because you did something that impressed me. Do you know what it was?"

She shook her head, a bit of pride appearing on her face. "You didn't take shit from that waitress. You're beginning to recognize that her opinion of you doesn't matter. No one's opinion of you matters—except mine." Dr. Carrington smiled at that and nodded happily. I finished up my little speech. "Now get down under the table and suck me off so that your dressing will be ready when the salad arrives."

Still smiling, Dr. Carrington slid out of her seat and under the table. I moved my hips forward slightly and pulled the tablecloth up to hide my groin. Luckily for Dr. Carrington, the tablecloth hung low enough to hide her presence from casual observation, although anyone who ducked their head would be able to see her legs—and if our server came back, she'd almost certainly see the movement under the table as my professor bobbed her head up and down in my lap. Oh well, I thought—not my problem, and not my slut's problem either.

I felt Dr. Carrington undo my belt and unzip my pants, then reach into my pants to haul out my half-hard cock. Not being able to see her work was unexpectedly arousing; every moment of contact was a surprise. Her lips closed around the very end of my prick, and she started to suck like a god-damned vacuum cleaner. I swear, it was like she was trying to suck every drop of cum directly out of my balls.

Then she started to hum—and that wasn't something I had taught her, or something she'd done before. That's when I figured out her goal—to get me off before the server returned and saw what my little professor-whore was doing. And she had been doing so well, too. 

I reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair just as she started to swallow up more of my shaft, holding it firmly and keeping her from going deeper. She looked up at me from under the table, her eyes betraying her confusion. I smiled down at her and said, "Naughty, naughty, professor. Getting greedy, aren't you? Take your time, enjoy it. I know I will." A small glimmer at the corner of her eyes told me she was going to obey. 

Dr. Carrington started sucking me again, her tongue broad and flat against my shaft as she slowly went deeper and deeper. I slid my hips forward slightly—making her cough briefly as my cockhead nudged against the back of her throat—and put my hands behind my head. I could feel her spit running down my length—Dr. Carrington knew what I liked, and one thing I liked were wet, sloppy blowjobs. Her hands came up and she started to stroke me, her hands corkscrewing up from my base up to her own lips, their path lubricated by her drool. She started to move her head and hands in sync, twisting her wrists, her lips forming a tight seal as she sucked me in.

It didn't take long before my pussy-pleaser was dripping with her spit and my own copious precum; streams of it were running down my length and over her knuckles. "Don't mess up my pants, slut," I ordered. She whimpered briefly, but obeyed. Her hands went down to extract my bloated sack from my pants, and she started to cradle my balls in her hands. At the same time, she pulled herself off my prick with a pop and started to lick up and down my length, the sloppy mess she'd made collecting on her tongue before she swallowed it down like a good girl.

When my cock was clean and shiny with her spit, she went right back to it, messing it up again, taking me down her throat and kneading my balls gently. She gagged briefly when she pushed herself down on me, but forced herself through it, her throat convulsing as I entered it. When she reached the base, Dr. Carrington's tongue flicked out and lapped at my balls, and I couldn't hold back a low groan.

That drew the attention to our server, who was nearby getting another table set up. She came over to me and asked, "Do you need anything, sir?" My cock flexed once when she said 'sir'—don't blame me, that word just does it for me, even when it's not coming from one of the members of my harem. I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. She gave me a funny look and leaned forward slightly.

I don't know exactly what she saw, but I could imagine it. The server probably saw the back of Dr. Carrington's head, her strawberry-blonde hair a bit disheveled, bobbing up and down in my lap, quiet wet noises coming from her mouth. She blushed crimson and her jaw dropped. "S-sir, you can't do that in here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she stammered. 

That's when I gave her my most winning smile and said "Don't be so hasty. My suck-slut just wanted to get her salad dressing ready." 

The server was speechless, so I kept going. "She just loves how my cum tastes. Says it's like ambrosia. Isn't that right, suck-slut?"

Dr. Carrington was almost as red as the server, but she played her part. She pulled herself off my cock again, giving a little whine as it left her mouth. Then she cocked her head back so she could see the server, and said, "Sir's cum is delicious. Today I'm only eating his cum, because I like it more than people food." And then—I shit you not—she gave my cock a long lick, base to tip, gathering up the precum running down my veiny shaft and moaning as she swallowed it. I gave her a beneficent smile and stroked her hair gently, and after a small nod from me she went back to work.

I looked back up at the server, who was still flabbergasted. "You know, my suck-slut's very greedy—but if you ask nice she might give you a taste." Dr. Carrington started to suck harder and faster, spurred on by something—perhaps the audience, or perhaps the thought of sharing some of my cum with another woman. I didn't know if she was upset or turned on or (most likely, in my judgment) both at once, but it didn't matter at that moment. My hips started to buck up as she sucked at me, and I knew I wouldn't last long.

Dr. Carrington's eyes were watering as she started taking my full length rapidly, plunging down to my base before pulling her head back, sucking hard as she did. The server was still too stunned to respond. I beckoned her with one finger, and she looked around the restaurant dazedly. Seeing that no one was paying attention, she slid into the chair next to me and put one hand on my thigh. "Oh, god... your cock is enormous. How the hell is she taking it all?" she asked.

"Hear that, throat-cunt? You should be proud of what you're doing here." That got a moan from her, the vibrations running through me and bringing out another thick blob of precum. "You're going to get your salad dressing soon," I said. "Keep it in your mouth and don't swallow, you greedy slut."

Dr. Carrington sped up, sloppy gagging sounds coming from her throat, and I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash over me. I could feel the server was still nearby, no doubt watching slack-jawed as my professor-slut displayed her astonishing oral virtuosity. The server occasionally muttered a quiet little exclamation as she watched the performance. "Holy shit... Fuck me... Where is it going?" And Dr. Carrington just kept up her efforts, her tongue seeming to coil around my length even as her throat convulsed and rippled around me.

As my climax approached, I opened my eyes. I gave her a few moments' warning when I was about to cum—nothing too noticeable, just a light pat on the head. But she got the message. She pulled away from me, sucking hard as she did, her lips coming free with a small 'pop.' Her hands picked up the slack, immediately coming up to stroke me as her lips slowly made their way up. She knelt under the table, eyes open, looking up at me with undisguised need in her eyes as she stroked me into her open mouth. The server was staring at her—I suspect she wanted to trade places—as Dr. Carrington sent me over the edge.

With a small grunt, I came. Streams of thick white cum rocketed from my dick, expertly coaxed out by Dr. Carrington's milking, strokng hands. I found my eyes closing of their own accord, as my cocksucker unburdened me of my heavy load. Her hands were magic—she was using both hands to stroke me, twisting them in opposite directions as they flew up and down my shaft. My cockhead was resting on her lower lip, and she tickled my glans with the tip of her tongue as she made small, pleased sounds.

"Oh... my... god!" said the server, as she saw me unload into Dr. Carrington's mouth. "There's so much!" She wasn't wrong—my first few shots left a pool in the back of my professor's throat, and it was rapidly growing as one creamy spurt after another found its target. Before long, her back teeth were covered, and still the level rose. She had to open her mouth a bit wider, making a single pearly drop spill out of the corner of her mouth and run down her flushed cheek. By the time I'd finished, her tongue was only visible as a little pink island in a sea of white.

"Remember, professor," I said, making the server gasp slightly, "don't swallow." Dr. Carrington couldn't nod without spilling her treat, so she just twitched her head infinitesimally and tried to close her mouth. But there was too much cum for her to do that cleanly, either, and when she tried a small amount escaped, running down her chin. She hurriedly scooped it up with her fingers and looked around frantically for somewhere to put it. "Perhaps your audience wants a taste," I suggested. Dr. Carrington looked at the server, eyes wide, and slowly offered her her fingers.

The server looked around nervously, and when she was satisfied that no one was watching she darted forward, licking my excess cum off Dr. Carrington's fingers. She held it in her mouth as if she was savoring it—I could see her tongue moving as she rolled it around—and then she swallowed. "I can see why she likes it," she said.

I handed Dr. Carrington her napkin and told her to clean me up—normally, this meant licking up whatever she'd missed, but in this case it was just excess spit that needed drying. She did so very well, patting me dry and gently putting my softening shaft back into my pants before smoothly gliding back up into her seat. If it weren't for her red face and chest and the fact that her nipples were standing up proudly under her tight shirt, no one would suspect anything had happened. The whole time, the server just kept watching,, too overawed to speak.

When Dr. Carrington was once again seated and breathing hard from her exertions (through her nose of course; her mouth was otherwise occupied), the server sat up straight. "That was pretty hot... but you can't do it again." 

I gave her a little smile and said, "Don't worry, we won't." 

"Well, uh... I'll go check on your food, I guess."

I nodded. When she'd gone, I turned to Dr. Carrington and said, "You did well again, slut. I'm proud of you." And I swear, that made her blush even deeper.

The server returned quickly, carrying my steak and my slut's salad. She set them down and then waited. "Want to see my whore fix up her salad?" I asked. The server nodded shyly, and I caught Dr. Carrington's eye and pointed meaningfully down at the bowl of mixed greens. Dr. Carrington leaned over it and let my load slowly drool out from between her lips, letting it pool in the center at first before moving her head around to ensure that every leaf of lettuce or slice of tomato was thoroughly covered. There was more than enough cream for her to accomplish that task.

A few drops clung to Dr. Carrington's lips and chin, and with a nod from me she eagerly shoveled them back into her mouth and swallowed them down. A small shudder ran through her as she did. The server opened her mouth as if to say something, but either thought better of it or lost her nerve, because she scampered off almost immediately.

"May I eat, Sir?" asked Dr. Carrington in a small voice. 

"Of course," I replied, favoring her with a broad smile. "You've been doing so good today."

-----

The rest of the meal went quickly. Our server returned a few times, her eyes on the salad. Dr. Carrington took her time eating. Whenever the server was near, my slut made a point of vocally praising the salad, even giving little ecstatic moans with each bite. It was more than I had asked for, and I was happy to see my professor getting into her new role—her new life, truth be told.

We didn't get a traditional dessert. But Dr. Carrington still seemed hungry after finishing her sperm-soaked salad, and when she looked at me with her puppy-dog eyes I couldn't let her suffer. So I took her out for a treat.

I led her back to the men's bathroom. The restaurant was a decent place, so the restroom was fairly clean and well-appointed as far as these things went—there were faux-marble countertops, and the light was low and soft. The stalls went all the way down to the floor. The bathroom was empty and we stole away into a stall, where I sat down on the toilet and once again unsheathed my prick, pumping it in my hand back up to its full (and impressive, if I may say so myself) size. Dr. Carrington knelt obediently, opening her mouth without any command from me and moving to engulf the head with pouty lips. But I stopped her.

"You've sucked me enough for now. I want to use those big..."I tweaked her nipples through her shirt, "...beautiful..." I gave one of them a little slap "...tits. And leave the top on." She looked at me, just for a moment, and then gave a small nod before pulling her shirt away from her chest and sliding my shaft in between her firm mounds. Her hands pressed them together, forming a channel for me to use as I desired. Finally, she let a long string of spit drool out of her mouth onto my cock and her chest, making everything slick and slippery.

Dr. Carrington started to rock up and down, jerking me off with her tits, her fingers interlaced in front of her. I thought I could feel her heartbeat against my cock, through her chest. "Have you been enjoying your day with me, slut?" I asked her.

She looked up at me shyly. "I think so, Sir. It's so much, so fast. But I love to please you Sir and I know you want me to be a good slut for you." Her pace accelerated, and her breath quickened. She squeezed her tits together harder. "I want to be the best slut you have."

"Even if it means going out like this regularly?"

"Yes, Sir." She sped up a bit more.

"Even if it means going to class dressed like a hooker." 

"Yes, Sir. I already drink your cum most mornings... But you can do whatever you want to me." Her eyes were wide and her cheeks crimson. 

"What if I want you to go to class with a toy up your dripping cunt?" She nodded, her lips slightly apart. "Or up your tight little ass?" She whimpered and nodded again. "Very good. What if I want you to walk out of here with my cum all over your face?" That made her freeze in place for a moment. I held her gaze, and she started again—slower, less vigorously. "Well, Princess? What's it going to be?"

"I... I want to be your slut. I want to leave the restaurant with your mark." The corners of my mouth turned up in a smile, and she sped up again. "Please cum on my face, Sir. Please show the world that I'm your slut."




BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 03



My precum was leaking from the end of my dick, coating Dr. Carringtons perfect C-cups in my slime. Her shirt was damp and translucent where it had soaked up her spit and my precum. Her creamy skin was turning pink where it rubbed against my cock. The only sounds were our breathing and the wet noises of her skin gliding over mine. I was nearing my breaking point when we heard the door to the bathroom creak open.

Dr. Carrington froze. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear: "Keep going, slut." Her lip trembled and she looked away from me, but she once again restarted, moving quickly, her breasts cradling my cock. With her head down, she was able to stick her tongue out and flick it against the tip of my cock on each stroke.

I bit back a groan as the tip of her tongue teased my piss-slit and the sensitive underside of my cock. Dr. Carrington, by now well aware of when I was about to cum, turned her face to mine. She whispered, "Please cum on your slut, Sir" and bit her lower lip just so. The look on her face—so needy, so eager to please—was enough to set me off.

The first shot went over her completely, splattering on the stall door in a two-foot-long streak. Dr. Carrington rose up on her knees, and the next shot left a pearlescent line of sperm running from her chin up into her strawberry-blonde hair. She let go of her tits to clutch my erupting shaft, stroking it gently through her shirt. Her expert hands coaxed out another half-dozen spurts that painted her face, white cords dangling off her elegant features. She kept her eyes open throughout—even when some of my load landed on her eyelashes, she just blinked a few times to clear them and kept stroking. As my climax waned, more cum coated the tops of her tits, soaking her shirt thoroughly and making her pale skin even whiter.

Dr. Carrington stayed on her knees for a moment, panting and turning her head from side to side so I could admire my handiwork. She rose, careful not to disturb her new makeup, and cleaned me off with a handful of toilet paper—normally, I'd have made her use her tongue, but in her current condition that would no doubt have made more of a mess. "Ready to go?" I asked her. She gave me an infinitesimal nod, dislodging a bit of cum which fell from her chin onto her tits with a splat, and I opened the stall door and stepped out, Dr. Carrington following two steps behind me.

The man who'd come in was washing his hands, and he gave us a quick glance in the mirror—then did a classic double-take when he saw my slut, her top practically transparent, her nipples stiff, the crotch of her denim cut-offs was soaked with her juices. And of course the strings and streamers of cum on her face and tits made for quite the picture.

He froze, bent over the sink, and stared. I didn't look back, but in the mirror I could see Dr. Carrington's face turn crimson under all the cum. She was looking down at the floor, tottering on her too-high heels, tits bouncing as we walked out. I held the door open for her—I'm a gentleman, after all—and she left the bathroom, moving as quickly as she could.

It seemed like half the restaurant stopped and stared as she walked out, blushing and almost completely exposed. I could hear people muttering, not surprisingly—this wasn't an everyday event. Dr. Carrington wasted no time in fleeing the scene. She made it out the door at a near-run, leaving a trail of sperm droplets as she went. I followed, thumbs tucked into my jeans, sauntering out the doors. Dr. Carrington had crouched down by her car, hiding, facing away from me. I opened the car door and gently guided her in.

We made our escape. Dr. Carrington looked at me, her face still covered with a sheen of rapidly drying cum. "Why did you make me do that, Sir? I can never go back there again." 

I let her stew in silence for a moment before responding. "Did you like it?"

"I... I don't know." 

"You did. I saw how you reacted. You love being dominated, humiliated. You crave it. Your body knows, even if you don't."

She looked down at her feet, pondering what I'd said. I continued. "This isn't going to be an everyday thing, Princess. But it's going to happen again, eventually." My tone made it clear that this wasn't a request. I was simply stating a fact, and I knew she'd accept it as such. From our first encounter, it was clear that Dr. Carrington had a long-suppressed desire to be controlled, to be used. I had acted on it, and now she was mine.

There was a long silence while she processed what I'd told her. "Yes, Sir," she said, in a small voice. Another pause. "Sir? May I... may I eat your cum, before it dries?" I glanced over at her and smiled.

"Of course."

My slut started from the top down, gathering up my load on her fingers, scooping up the streaks and guiding them to her mouth. Some spots had already dried, and on those she licked her fingers and did her best. When her face was clean, or as close as it was going to get, she scooped her tits out of her tight top, bringing them up to her lips and licking them clean as well. In a matter of minutes, she was almost spotless; she devoured my cum eagerly.

-----

It turned out that our next stop was also our last for the day. It was a sex shop; Dr. Carrington's supply of toys was shamefully low. She had a vibrator, but that was it. I planned to get her quite a few new additions—with extras, in case I wanted to bring some other girls over to her place.

Before we could go in, though, I had to help my slut out. She looked a mess. I probably should have felt guilty about that, or at least responsible, but I didn't. A few seconds of digging around in her glove compartment revealed a wet-wipe and a handful of napkins. I dropped them on her lap and told her to clean herself up. She flipped down the sun visor and diligently wiped herself off. She didn't have any replacement for her makeup, but it had been fairly minimal to begin with. After she was done, she still looked a mess—her hair was out of place, and her clothes were still damp—but she was a presentable mess.

I took her into the store. It wasn't nearly as seedy as people tended to expect; if it resembled anything, it was a pornographic Wal-Mart. The floors were clean and white, and the fluorescent lighting was bright, if a bit harsh. The store was clean and mostly empty; there was a middle-aged man sitting behind the cash register who nodded as we came in, and a half-dozen or so customers who kept glancing at us furtively. 

Dr. Carrington drew up close to me, holding on to my arm. "I've never been in this kind of place," she whispered. 

"I thought not," I replied. She seemed fascinated by the store; my slut stared, wide-eyed, at the pornographic panoply on display. I led her up and down the aisles of porn DVDs, and she even picked up a few to examine them more closely. When we made it back to the toy section, she seemed to have become completely enraptured by the number and variety of dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, fuzzy handcuffs, nipple clamps—well, you get the idea. I said it was like a pornographic Wal-Mart, and I wasn't kidding.

She seemed especially fascinated by the butterfly vibrator they were selling. For those who don't know, it's basically a pair of panties, except with the whole front panel replaced by a vibrating butterfly-looking thing. The one they had at the store didn't really provide any penetration, but (I am reliably informed) it couldn't be beat for clitoral stimulation. It was a good thing she was fascinated by it, too, because I had planned to buy her one. Well, strictly speaking, she was buying it for herself, since I was paying with her money. But that's not important. 

This particular butterfly vibe had one other feature that made it appealing to me: a remote control. I picked up the butterfly and a handful of other similar toys—a little bullet vibe, a butt plug, and a pair of glass toys for temperature play. Then I threw in some nipple clamps, and some lead weights (like sinkers for fishing, but bigger), and a couple of gags (one ball gag, one ring gag). She seemed a bit concerned about those last few items, but she didn't object or question me—and after all, she'd been subject to improvised versions of most of them at one time or another since I'd started using her.

We took the basket up to the front and paid for everything. Before we left, though, I pulled Dr. Carrington aside and whispered, "I want you to try some of these things out." She nodded. I continued. "Ask the clerk if you can try them here." She flushed crimson almost instantly. 

Dr. Carrington took a single nervous step forward and coughed politely to get the clerk's attention. He glanced up at her, taking in her disheveled appearance, her slutty clothes, and her nearly-perfect physical form, and then his glance became a leer. "How can I help you, miss?" he asked.

I didn't think it was possible for Dr. Carrington's blush to get deeper, but it did. She stammered out her reply. "I... I was wondering... can I... uh, can I try out my purchases here?" The clerk's mouth curled into a wide, lascivious grin. He looked over at me, and I gave him a little nod.

"Well, miss, we have a back room for that sort of thing. I'll show you the way." Dr. Carrington moved to follow him, but froze as I cleared my throat. She looked back at me, and I held her gaze for a moment, then looked pointedly at the counter top. She got the message.

"N... no, thank you. I'd like to try them... try them out here." Her flush had spread from her face down to her chest now, and her pale skin was red all the way down to the tops of her tits.

"I reckon that's okay. Let me close up the store for you." The clerk went over to the front door and turned the lock and switched off the neon "OPEN" sign in the window. Two of the other customers wandered over, drawn, perhaps, by his behavior. 

I drew Dr. Carrington in close and quietly asked her, "Do you want this? You can back out."

She was trembling as she answered. "I... I want to make you happy, Sir." 

I kissed her forehead and murmured, "That's my Princess. Now put on a good show for these guys. I won't let them touch you."

That seemed to give Dr. Carrington some strength. She pulled off her tight little top and dropped in on the counter, revealing her big, firm tits. There was still a hint of redness on the insides, where she'd used them to get me off in the bathroom less than an hour ago. Her denim cutoffs went next; she undid the button and let them fall to the floor, then turned and put both hands flat on the counter top, palms down. Then she wiggled her hips just a bit, making her perky ass jiggle appealingly for me and the others.

One of the customers got a bit forward. He was a younger guy, probably not much older than me, and was dressed like he'd just been at a grunge revival. The guy took a half-step toward my slut and wound up to give her ass a slap. I understood the impulse—hell, I'd indulged in it countless times. But she was my toy, and while I didn't mind showing her off, there was no way in hell I was going to let some stranger play with her. I mean, if you owned a Ferrari, would you let some random dude take it for a spin?

I caught his wrist as it came back and pulled him a bit off-balance. He staggered and shouted, "What the fuck!" Dr. Carrington's head snapped around, a panicked look on her face. I laid out the rules. "My lady's going to put on a show. No touching, no pictures. Everyone gets a fun memory to take home with them. Anyone tries to go for more, the show's over." I let go of the Nirvana fan's wrist, and he stepped away, glaring daggers at me. I returned his glare. "Are we gonna have a problem?"

There was a tense moment of silence. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dr. Carrington tense up—I didn't know if she was going to run, or dive for cover, or what.

But then the guy put his hands up in the air. "All right, man. You make the rules." He stepped back. I did the same, although I kept an eye on him for the rest of the proceedings. With a nod to Dr. Carrington, the show started up again.

She turned, and I handed her the butterfly vibrator. Her face was crimson, and she wouldn't meet my eyes—or those of any of her admirers. But she took it, and pulled it up her long, slim legs, sliding it into place. "Bend over the counter," I instructed, and again she obeyed wordlessly, leaning forward so that the edge of the glass counter pushed the butterfly vibe tight against her pussy. 

I picked up the remote—noting how her head turned subtly, so she could track my hand as it moved—and ran my thumb across the control. It was a simple switch, with four possible settings. Before turning it on, I told her to reach back and spread her ass; she complied. "Shit, look at that little asshole..." said one of the watching men. 

"Want to see how it looks with something inside it?" I asked him.

"Hell yes!" was his answer.

I took out one of the glass toys and held it up in front of my enslaved professor, near her mouth. She knew immediately what I wanted from her, and she spit on the clear glass phallus, then opened her mouth so I could slide it past those pouty lips. I heard it click against her teeth a few times—not what I was aiming for, but she hadn't really had much time to think about using her lips to protect her teeth—and when I pulled it out a thin strand of drool came with it. 

She grimaced, just for an instant, as I put the cool glass up against her tight little rosebud. But then she saw the expression of disappointment on my face and the grimace vanished, replaced by the submissive eagerness to please that she'd displayed more and more frequently since I'd taken her for the first time—since I'd violated her in every hole in her own office and left her a cum-addled wreck.

I favored her with a brief nod and slowly pushed the glass toy in, in the process making her grind her pubic bone against the butterfly vibe and the edge of the counter top. Dr. Carrington let out a small whine of pleasure, then, and her hips started to gyrate. The assembled audience watched almost silently (one let out a low whistle) at the sight of her ass as it moved in a tight spiral, her asshole slowly stretching to accept the clear glass dildo I was forcing into her.

When the toy was halfway in, I stopped. Dr. Carrington pushed her ass up and back; even though she hadn't wanted this, now that it had started, she was giving her audience a good show—and, I suspected, she was enjoying it despite herself. I let her take a bit more of the toy inside her before I started to move it back with her. Her eyes had been closed, but when I denied her, they opened up again. I made eye contact and said, sternly, "Don't be greedy, slut."

She gave me a small nod and said, quietly, "Yes, Sir." I favored my professor with a small smile, and she continued, "Please, Sir, use me as you see fit." My girl was a quick learner.

So I decided to reward her. "All right, slut. Get ready; I'm not stopping until this thing is buried in your ass." Dr. Carrington flushed, and I saw her knuckles go white as she gripped the counter harder, but she didn't move to resist. 

She'd taken bigger things in her ass—much bigger things—but today was her first day being publicly exposed like this, and this was easily the most humiliating display I'd forced on her. Our earlier exploits were relatively private, or at least brief, but she had no idea how long this would go on. And what's more, it was much more dehumanizing than the blowjob in the restaurant or the fuck in the store. In those cases, I had used her, to be sure, but she was being used for my pleasure; her humiliation was just a bonus. This time, my main goal was to get her off, there in front of a crowd of strangers, to make her cum despite (or perhaps because of) her shame and fear. And I think she realized all this, at least at some instinctual level.

I pushed down on the glass dildo, forcing it slowly but inexorably into her tight ass. In this setting, there was probably no way for my anthropology professor-turned-public whore to relax, so her ass stayed tightly clenched, and every inch of progress I made with the toy was a struggle. Underneath her, the butterfly vibrator kept giving off its low buzzing hum as it worked away at her, the tiny but powerful motors going and making her cunt practically drip with her juices. 

Once I'd gotten the plug moving again, her eyes once more fell closed and she started to push back against the pressure of my hand. Her normally pale skin was deeply flushed, and her lips were slightly parted, her white, even teeth just visible behind those pouty pink petals. 

I bent down a bit and spoke to her, my voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Do you like getting your ass filled like this, slut? Here in a sex shop, while a bunch of strange men watch? I bet they're all going to stroke themselves off later thinking of you." She bit her lip. I continued. "Every one of them wishes they were going deeper into your ass like this. And they can all see how wet you are, slut. If I let them, they'd all take a crack at that tight little pussy of yours." Her breath quickened.

Behind me, I heard the sound of a fly being unzipped as one of the men decided he couldn't wait. The others soon joined him, and in a matter of seconds a half-dozen horny men were jacking off, watching me abuse my professor-slut.

The glass dildo was almost all the way in now, and I kept up the pressure and the verbal torment. "Hear that, slut? You got them too hot to wait. All of them are jerking their cocks for you right here and now." She tried, and failed, to hold back a moan. One of the men did the same. My eyes were on her, but I could hear the men muttering degrading comments as they pleasured themselves. It probably wasn't what they had been expecting to see when they came in to the sex shop today, but it didn't seem like any of them were disappointed.

"Ready, slut?" I hissed. "You're about to get the last bit in you." She whimpered and nodded, and I strained a bit as I forced the final inch or so of the glass dildo into her tightly-clenched asshole. When she felt my fingertips brushing her ass, Dr. Carrington finally relaxed a bit. Her legs trembled and her hips dropped down again. With the butterfly vibe buzzing away merrily underneath her, the sudden impact must have been a bit jarring—she didn't open her eyes, but her jaw dropped open a bit, and she gasped, and I could see her trembling on the verge of what promised to be an impressive climax.

I did my best to push her over the edge. With one hand, I pushed down, gently but firmly, on the small of her back, keeping her in place and (more importantly) keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against her clit. And with my other, I started sliding the glass dildo in and out of her now-yielding asshole. Now that she'd relaxed, it was much easier to make progress, and soon enough I was sliding almost the whole toy in and out of her rosebud. Each time it made it all the way in, Dr. Carrington seemed to start breathing faster, until she was practically hyperventilating. At some point her feet had fallen out of her heels, and I could see her toes curling as they hung in the air.

I faced the crowd for the first time since my professor-slut and I had started our little show. All the men had their pricks out and were furiously wanking themselves at the sight of this gorgeous woman being thoroughly dominated and used for their pleasure. As I watched, one of them came with a muttered burst of profanity, spilling his load on the floor and his own hand. "Want to see the slut cum for you all?" I called out, and I felt Dr. Carrington shiver under my hand as I spoke.

The men answered in the affirmative. That's actually something of an understatement; they practically exploded at the idea. One of them did explode, spurting a respectable load out onto the floor. The others stomped and whistled and yelled. I turned back to Dr. Carrington and said, still pumping the dildo in and out of her ass, "You hear your audience, slut. Cum. Cum like the little whore you are."




BMOC: The Shopping Trip Ch. 03



My command seemed to do the trick. Her eyes were still shut tight, but she moaned and squealed and whimpered and came, hard, her clenching ass gripping the intruding dildo tight and seeming to suck it in, her pelvis grinding down hard on the vibrating toy pinned between her and the edge of the counter.

I kept working the glass toy in and out of her ass as she came, doing my best to prolong her climax and make the show last as long as possible. Sadly, it couldn't last forever, and while Dr. Carrington was multi-orgasmic, I wasn't quite able to draw any rapid-fire climaxes from her right now.

But the one she gave me was impressive. It was a whole-body experience. She flushed, seemingly from the waist up, and her legs came up off the floor, toes curled, everything else rigid. Her fingers flexed and released, alternately gripping and releasing the counter top. Her hips rocked back and forth. And her cunt practically erupted; a stream of her juices flowed down her thighs, onto the counter and the sex toy trapped in between her and the glass.

When all was said and done, I looked back to see that most of the men had gotten off as well, judging from the small pools and streaks of spunk that decorated the floor. I turned off the vibrator and extracted the glass dildo from Dr. Carrington's ass, which proved a bit difficult (she'd tightened up again). Her clothes were sitting nearby, and I handed them to her; she accepted them gratefully, still trembling a bit, not looking up to meet my eyes.

I kissed her forehead and whispered, "That was great, princess." That made her look up, and I could see her eyes were shining with tears. But she smiled through them, happy to have earned my pride by pleasing me.

Christ, I'm a bad person.

-----

I had been planning one more stop, but Dr. Carrington was trembling and shaky all the way out to her car, and even once we'd driven away I had to reach over to her and put an arm across her shoulders protectively before she started to calm down. I decided I'd pushed her far enough for one day—hours of public display and humiliation had apparently taken their toll.

So instead of taking her to get her perky little nipples pierced, I took her back to her house. We stopped for fast food, and I let her eat normally, which was enough for her to blow me on the way back to her place, claiming that the food "didn't taste right" without a cum chaser. I sure as hell didn't stop her.

When we got back to her place, she was clearly exhausted and overwhelmed. I carried the bags of clothing and toys into her house, as she stumbled around on her stiletto heels. I led her to her bedroom and told her to get some sleep; she looked at me gratefully and practically fell into bed.

I watched her sleep for a minute or so. Then I closed the door quietly and made a call.

Alyssa picked up. She was panting; at first, I thought she was working out, but the truth quickly became clear. 

"You want to have some fun tonight?" I asked her.

"I am... fuck... I am having fun," she said, clearly distracted. "Mel and I... lick it there... decided to have a night in. Come on, bitch. Use your fucking tongue."

I couldn't help but smile—and my cock couldn't help but get nice and stiff at the thought of Alyssa's lithe, limber body as she straddled her busty blonde roommate's face and forced Melanie to eat her out. "Bring her," I said. "I'll text you the address. Trust me, it'll be worth it."