This is a much more explicit piece than The Adventures of Silver Girl—and a much different story over all, so the usual warning about age and making sure you’re looking at the right story apply all the more. This story was inspired by the fifty million commercials I saw this year for thanksgiving weekend sales—when I barely even watch television. I hope that you all get as much of a kick out of it as I did.
The Day After
“What I’m thankful for this year…” Nancy began as she cut a piece of her turkey breast with the side of her fork before skewering it and holding it just in front of her parted lips, “… is another after thanksgiving sale tomorrow morning!” Some people loved Christmas, or Halloween, but Nancy looked forward every year towards the after thanksgiving sales. Nothing else made her so expectant or excited as knowing that soon she would be racing through stores, arriving earlier than anyone else to be one of the first one hundred in, so she could receive that special prize that the best stores gave out. She even had marked it on the calendar in a pretty pink pen, surrounding it with dollar signs and adorably girlish hearts. If there was a mascot for that day of sales like there was Santa for Christmas, it would be Nancy Green.
Methodically she chewed up small little bites daintily as she planned her shopping spree. There were many things that she could go after, but this year she was feeling especially vain. “I declare that 2005 is the year of the cloth! Tomorrow will be a day dedicated to clothes! All who disagree say nay!” she stared at the television in front of her as she ate from the TV tray between her and the screen. It wasn’t that Nancy was unattractive or without a family—but she couldn’t let anyone interfere with her preparations. Her family always made her stay with them too late and that made it hard to wake up early and still be sizzling alert. Boyfriends didn’t understand what a sacred holiday the day after thanksgiving was, and she couldn’t let them slow her down.
So really, her loneliness was just a touch of sensibility on her part. Not that she was a sensible shopper—if she saw a skimpy green top that would match her emerald eyes just perfectly and hug onto her carefully honed curves just how she liked then all bets were off. She’d never been harassed by security, but with her level of shopping aggressiveness it was really only a matter of time.
With an expectant grin Nancy sipped her sparkling cider from a clear wine glass with a pinky raised like a matriarch. Tomorrow was her day. It was the day where she was the queen of the world and time almost seemed as if it stood still just for her. After she set down the glass she slid her long, elegant fingers through her honey colored hair and let it fall from between them in a way that to any onlooker would appear to sparkle with ceremony, and it did. She did nearly the same thing every single year, preparing for the most exciting day of the year, and then indulging in it. The only thing that changed was her goal.
She reached for the remote and clicked off the television as she finished the last few bites of her food. It was early in the evening, only six o’clock, but since she had her alarm set for way too early the next morning this was actually another show of sensibility. So much sanity wasn’t really her forte, it was more habit than sane or rational.
As she stood up and folded the T.V. tray to shove it away into the closet she glanced to her purse all prepared and ready on the kitchen table and nodded to it like a fellow soldier. “To another day of sopping and excess!”
Laughing to herself like a happy little school girl, Nancy skipped her way off to slide into her cute pink pajamas, and then under the matching covers she’d gotten the year before. “Oh whatever pagan deity caters to insane shopping sprees, may you bless me with… Some sort of fortunate happening.” This tradition of hers had started back when she was still in college and pinched each and every penny she could, but it had grown and evolved to the point where now she could hardly imagine not having this ritual. With a soft sigh she nuzzled into her pillow and closed her eyes.
Little did she know that she wasn’t the only woman with a shopping tradition after thanksgiving, and that some of these other women went for things that weren’t for sale.
The alarm clock screamed out like a cranky infant in the express lane, and Nancy shot up without a pause. She’d already been awake but she knew if she physically got up too early she’d be tired out too quickly. So, she’d let herself just stretch out and plan her shopping strategy. Now though, she was more than prepared, and went through her morning ritual in record time. It can be amazing how quickly daily hygiene and feeding can be accomplished when one is focused on their goal and only gets lost in their thoughts from time to time.
Within half an hour she was out the door, and in less than that she was the first in line to her favorite store, a nifty clothes store named Regal Threads that always had the best sales anyway. She was sure that the day after sale was going to be impressive enough to blow her mind and leave the rest of her shopping holidays feeling less impressive.
One could only hope, she thought as she tapped her foot. At first she felt silly for being there so early—after all the store wouldn’t open up for an hour—but before long a line was forming behind her and she felt perfectly validated in being just a little early. The year before she’d been at the department store down the block two hours early, so this was an improvement she hoped. Not that she found anything besides fascination with her little yearly ritual, but she didn’t want to go overboard. Even the best things taken too far could be hazardous and she knew that. That was why this was the only day of the year she let herself go out shopping and spending crazy amounts all at once. At least her overspending was restrained, and she could even justify it in the name of participating in the best sales of the year.
When the doors finally opened, and the florescent lighting shined down on her milky pale skin, she ran into the store as if possessed without even looking behind her. Her hands latched onto a cart and she was on her way, the cart’s wheels like a war horse’s hooves as she charged into action.
The sales were great, and she could hardly contain her excitement. Beautiful sweaters and showy skirts were marked down to half price from their already low prices and it made her feel like she was buying a new wardrobe for the price of a fast food lunch. Within seven minutes her cart was half full of various shades of light pink, red, and blue. Everything seemed to be going her way until both her hand and the hand of the tall woman beside her both clutched onto a bleated skirt. Nancy was in wonderful shape, not anorexic but with just enough of a form to be curvaceous and smooth without having too much of a tummy, but this woman was tall and looked like she must have subsisted on a meal a week—if not less.
“Um… I hate to be rude, miss, but I grabbed this first!” Nancy tried to just tug it out of the other woman’s hand but the grip was tight and didn’t seem to be letting up. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but usually if she was forceful enough the other woman would just back down and she could go on her merry little way.
Smirking, the taller woman tugged the skirt and Nancy didn’t know how she’d pulled it so skillfully, but it pulled its way right out of her hand and the taller woman held it up like a toy to a kitten. “Cute little girl want the cute little skirt?” Nancy looked up to the other woman with a sigh. She was good looking—even frustrated Nancy had to admit that—and her red hair perfectly contrasted against her skin that looked pale not like milk, but the kind of pale where it almost looked blue. Her lips were painted a dark black, and all of her clothing matched her lips. From the high heeled boots, to the short skirt that hung loosely around her waist, to the tube top that clung to what little of a chest the other woman had she was a contrast of blueish white to dark black to bloody red.
“Come on, I saw it first!” Nancy’s voice had more shock in it than she wanted it to and she jumped up to try and grab the skirt but it was only pulled up higher away. Nancy was small—at only five feet tall—but the other woman had to be almost a whole foot taller than her. “It’s too small for you anyway!”
“Maybe it’s not for me? And not all of us binge like we’re trying to fill out for a movie role.” Smirk turned to a grin as the taller woman’s face twisted in a way that seemed cruelly mischievous—and beyond intent. Something deep in her lovely dark brown eyes seemed to twinkle with the threat of a challenge. “But maybe I can let you have it… But you’ll have to do something for me. Nothing much really—it’s practically a give away… Unless carrying your little self around is too exhausting.”
Emerald eyes turned from pouty to angry in a flash that almost deserved a sound effect. “Hey! I’m not fat, I’m just not a twig! But what do I have to do?” Nancy wanted to slug the other woman, take the skirt and run, but logic screamed to her just how stupid that would be. She wouldn’t get very far, and store security wouldn’t be very happy. Then her shopping cart would be cannibalized!
For a moment the taller woman seemed to consider just shaking her head, hiding the skirt in her own mass of clothes, and going about her business… But even Nancy could tell that was just for effect. This girl was just another melodramatic Goth, Nancy rationalized. I’ll just play along with her games and come away with a brand new skirt to show off my legs with. That girl may have a lot of legs, but that’s almost all she has…
“Well, you’ll have to close your eyes, and apologize for arguing with your owner.” She said it as if it was something that was so every day, so common sense filled that not knowing it was a defect on Nancy’s part. “You don’t even have to mean it. You can just think I’m some sick, kinky, tall girl with a bizarre habit of screwing with peoples heads. Say it, and you get the skirt. Simple as that.”
Nancy glared a little more, but she didn’t have time for this! She still needed to hit the lingerie department… She would have to make up for her little ritual with her boyfriend, and a little sexy lace never hurt. With an eye roll, her lids fell shut and in a bored and frustrated tone she held out her hand. “I’m sorry I argued with my owner. Now can I have the damned skirt or not?!” She didn’t know if she should open her eyes yet or not, and just incase opening them before being told would break off the deal she decided it was safer to keep them closed.
Before she would have even been able to get her eyes open though, the woman was behind her, and her fingertips were brushing across the front of Nancy’s waist. No matter the occasion, this was far too touchy feely—especially of another woman—to Nancy and she didn’t even try to resist the scream. If this had been any other occasion however, someone might have noticed or cared if they did. But if they took the time, then all of the good merchandise would be gone, and it wasn’t as if any of them knew Nancy anyway. “Get your hands off of me you stupid slut! You can keep the skirt!”
Just as her eyes were about to actually slide open though, one of those hands slid down to between her legs. She’d worn jeans that day for maneuverability’s sake, and she wasn’t sure if she should be thankful for that or not but for the moment, she was very thankful. She was sure if she was wearing a skirt, then the other woman’s hand would already be right up against her underwear. Behind her the woman leaned down, and responded to the cries with an arrogant whisper. “Too late. Now you have to apologize to your owner for screaming, or I’ll never let you go.”
Immediately Nancy broke out in a cold sweat and arched away from the other woman, turning her ear away from those dark black lips. This woman could be some sort of serial rapist, or maybe she was just toying with her before killing her and shoving her into a ditch! She could just say what the other woman wanted her to say, but that was obviously what was expected of her. She didn’t want to apologize to her “owner” again, so she tried to bolt. As soon as her foot moved though, the hand at her crotch clasped tighter and the scream she let out was not entirely in shock or fear.
It almost felt as if the other woman’s skin reached through the denim of her jeans and the cloth of her panties and pressed right against her, held her in such a strong way as if she was holding her not only by her sex, but by her very notion of sex and all that it meant. No matter how frightened she was, it was turning her on, and that made her try to struggle and pull away more which only made that grip tighter, and tighter. She wished she wasn’t at the back of a row, hidden behind bargain bin clothes, with two shopping carts blocking the way. Things were loud as hell already, and it was then that the store’s intercom system chimed on and started to play the sort of 80’s songs that made one feel like moving.
“Bad girl, you should just apologize… Maybe I’ll even let you go, maybe I won’t even punish you for being a naughty, naughty little girl. Apologize… Or I’ll show you what else I can do…” It truly felt like magic, what this other woman was doing. Nancy had never enjoyed even the thought of being touched or held or anything by another woman, but this touch was turning her on and making her entire body feel more and more slack, more and more as if it wanted her to submit to this woman and just get it over with.
Impressively enough though, she just gritted her teeth and tried to look up at the woman behind her. Her breath was coming out and in in raggedy gasps and she felt like each breath was less and less normal, and more and more the way she breathed as she was approaching that perfect plateau of pleasure… But she was never this easy! Not even with her boyfriend who knew just how to touch her… “No…! How are you doing this…? Why are you doing this…?”
“Wrong answer. I swear, it’s almost as if you want me to make you cream yourself in a clothing store. Oh, just imagine if one of your friends walked up and saw you grinding yourself down on my hand like some kind of slut.” Nancy gasped as she looked down, and felt that she actually was grinding in to this other woman’s hand! She hadn’t even noticed, it must have just happened on it’s own, but- “You don’t even know my name, but you’re practically dripping! I’m not even touching you directly… But if you don’t want to just apologize, and you want to know what else I can do, then fine. Be my guest. It’s been awhile since I had a ‘strong willed’ woman like you just begging to be taken down a peg.”
Nancy was about to give in and just start to beg, to admit that she was wrong to be upset and to apologize to her owner for screaming when the woman’s other hand rose up and grasped Nancy’s firm breast through her sweater and squeezed. It felt again like it was just against her flesh, with neither the cloth of the sweater or the bra between her breast and the other woman’s hand as it groped her. The touch wasn’t normal though, just like the hand between her thighs it was different than it should be, it was more. She could feel little waves, little ripples of pleasure sliding out from the five points of those grasping fingers as they spiraled and shifted over the surface of her breast. Each time they just barely struck against her nipple she let out a sharp squeaking gasp and pressed back against the other woman, breast arching into that hand as she grinded her hips down more against that hand that felt like it was right against her dripping sex. It felt divine, it felt like Nirvana, and most of all, it felt right…
But it was wrong! Nancy knew that, with what little of her wasn’t trying to enhance the sensations as her eyes fluttered and hooded, and as she felt herself soaking through the jeans that almost felt like they weren’t even there at all. “S-s-stop! All right, all right! I’m sorry I… I’m sorry I screamed at my owner… Now please, please just let go, please just let go, you can have the skirt, you can have my cart, I don’t care, I just want to go home!” Nancy normally wasn’t one to cry in public, but this situation was just too much. Even if she got away she’d be stumbling her way to her car with a damp spot on her jeans an already this hot she’d need relief and soon… Maybe she could get away, go to her boyfriend, he could comfort her…
She wasn’t sure if she’d felt it before, but it almost felt like after she’d apologized, to this owner she didn’t have, she felt it clicking in some strange bizarre way so deep inside of her head. It was as if she actually did have an owner, and she actually did have something to apologize for, but that was nonsense! Now the girl would just let go, and Nancy could get away. That was what should happen next, and Nancy had to focus on that so she didn’t pray the woman would push her right over the edge.
For a moment the other woman’s grin turned back into a smirk, and Nancy couldn’t see it but she could feel it. The hands didn’t pull away, but they paused against her and that was enough of a respite for Nancy’s hopes to raise again. Now she would let her go. Now she could pa and get the hell out, or just run out crying. This was her special day, but this was just too much!
“Mmm… No. Sorry, but that just won’t do. You were a bit late on the uptake. I think now you have to beg for your owner to forgive your insolence. Then maybe, just maybe I won’t make you scream.” The tall woman’s hands didn’t move again, but they seemed ready to in a moment. If Nancy didn’t answer soon enough, she knew those hands would get to work again and she was still struggling not to grind down and that was a losing battle. “Come on little girl, beg, beg, beg…”
Nancy bit her lip hard before she let herself respond. What mattered more was getting the hell out of there. Her dignity could take a backseat. Whatever this woman was, she could touch her through her clothes. What else could she do? Nancy didn’t want to know, ever. Her nightmares would probably all already be flooded with the redhead and those cruel black lips that taunted her with choices she could make to get herself out of this situation, but only seemed to taunt and not fulfill. “P-p-please, please, forgive my insolence, owner… I’m so sorry, I really am, please, please just forgive me, please!”
“Oh what a good little pixie! You’re forgiven, but how can I not reward an apology like that? Oh, I think apologizing even made our skin sweat just a little more…” And it had, Nancy couldn’t deny it so she wouldn’t even try. She felt so hot, so warm against the other woman who only seemed to push harder against her and pull her tighter close. Apologizing had felt great—it had felt wonderful. Nothing had felt quite as good as that before in her life, and by the time she’d been done speaking she’d even really meant it! Had she been insolent? Nancy hadn’t thought so, but now she thought that just maybe had been. Maybe she’d been so insolent to her sweet owner, who gave her the chance to be forgiven…
Before she could reconsider, those soft fingers gripped her nipple and that touch alone made her groan and shudder as those little twinges of heat and lust seemed to triple in less than an instant. When the black lipped woman twisted her nipple, try as she might, she couldn’t resist. It was like she was twisting Nancy’s very core, her very soul and it felt better than anywhere getting twisted or pinched or nibbled or licked or sucked, it was perfect, and she barely noticed as she cried out and would have fallen to her knees if that other woman wasn’t holding her by her crotch and to a lesser extent her nipple that was growing more sore.
It was such a wonderful, perfect reward from her owner, and Nancy grinded her ass back against her owner even if she only could grind back against her legs and against that hand as she did. “Th-thank you owner!” As her lips moved, she could feel her own words burning, sizzling deeper as if they were being forced through the fingers that held her up by her tender lips and all the way into her brain. This woman was her owner, and she wasn’t supposed to be insolent anymore. An apology doesn’t mean anything if you go against it moments later, and Nancy knew that. She knew that she had to make up for being so insolent. She knew she would never, ever do it again. She had to be a good little pixie for her wonderful tall gorgeous owner that could make her scream and grind and burst like no one else in the life she could barely remember ever had before.
“Much, much better my good little pixie! My good little slave. Mmm, I bet you never would have let someone call you that before…” Nancy’s eyes fluttered in confusion as she looked up at her owner. What did she mean before? The question shined in her eyes, and her owner seemed to understand. “Oh, don’t trouble your pretty little head over it, you don’t need to be doing silly things like thinking anymore unless you’re told to, but I have much smarter slaves to do your thinking for you… But would you still like to know how? Or why? Not that it will make any sense, of course…”
Nancy knew it wouldn’t make any sense. She knew that before her owner told her. How what? Why what? But if she said yes then her owner would hopefully keep talking and she loved hearing her owner’s voice. Something about it, maybe it was the way that her voice seemed to stretch every syllable while still sounding like she was speaking at a normal pace, maybe it was the way she could just feel the letters all sliding into her mind and rearranging her in a way that made her feel so hot, but whatever it was, she wanted more. “Oh please, please owner! Tell me more, tell your slave more, please owner!”
“You strong willed girls sure do learn quick once your will is twisted around to be more convenient to me…” Nancy’s owner snickered for a moment before she leaned closer to nip at her slave’s ear and whisper inside in such a sweetly sultry way. “See, some people can draw pretty pictures, or write pretty stories, but me, I work pretty, pretty magic. When I was a little girl I would do it in subtle little ways that I didn’t even notice. I just got what I wanted more. Since I didn’t know I could use it on command, I didn’t get too spoiled, because whenever my parents would find out… I would get punished, like a bad girl…” Her lower hand started to move again, a single finger stroking, trailing the line of her slave’s slit from top to bottom, and slowly back again, tracing that perfect grove in a way that felt almost like it was better than just flesh on flesh and made Nancy’s whole body shudder. “But as I got older, I learned I could make people do things, and I could do things no one else could do… I could actually make a girl float, or I could make her bra float away…”
Once an eager shopper, and now an eager slave, Nancy didn’t even hear the content so much as the words. She just knew that her owner was special. Her owner could do special things that no one else could do, things that made her better than Nancy. This was really only natural, she was special, she deserved to have slaves like Nancy. She deserved to have anything she wanted! “At first, I thought, hey… I could use this for personal gain. I could take over a small country, make it perfect, iron fist, yada, yada… but that sounded like way too much work. Even when you can do anything, something that big is just way too much work. Too many variables. At least so far… So I decided to start out small, start out… Special…”
Black lips trailed their way over Nancy’s ear and she moaned out, so softly, so pitifully, so weak and it made her owner shudder. “Lots of people go shopping the day after thanksgiving for sales, bargains, you know, normal stuff, just better. But me, oh no, I would do much more than that. Each year, I go out, and I collect nice succulent women and make them mine. At first I thought I’d be equal opportunity—I don’t want to get sued after all—but the world isn’t fair and neither am I. You’re my first of the day… And the first gets the luxury of keeping her name… and knowing mine.”
Oh! Nancy’s whole body shook even more, and she felt herself buckling again as another orgasm washed over her and flushed so much more of the old Nancy out of her as if the fluids coating her were the remains of her free will. She needed to know her owner’s name! She needed to be one of the few who got to know, who got to experience her owner’s name! “Oh, oh please owner! Please! Please tell me!”
Teeth closed about her ear and softly rubbed across the surface before pulling away. The hand at her nipple twisted it harshly in the opposite direction as the tall woman pressed into the small little slave in front of her. In the faintest, but most reverent voice that Nancy had ever heard, her owner whispered her name into her ear and before she even knew she’d heard all of it another burst was rolling through her again and washing away the last of her thoughts that didn’t center around her owner in the most delicious way she could ever have imagined.
“My name… is Marianna…” It was the most perfect name that Nancy had ever heard, and would ever heard. That name was the center of her world, and the center of her soul… And she wasn’t the only one. “Now come… Let’s take you home… I like to hunt alone.” If Nancy had a choice by then, she would have chosen to obey, but by then obeying was a thing as involuntary as breathing or letting her heart beat. She didn’t even notice as she was pulled away from her cart that had meant s much only minutes before, and she would never notice anything that she wasn’t told to notice again.