Chapter 5

We arrived at the mall and made our way inside. I could tell that
my slut was garnering interest right away. Most men were at least
subtle about it, but one guy actually walked into a garbage can
while checking her out over his shoulder. The women, on the other
hand, were barely able to contain their hostility towards my
scantily clad escort.

Her breasts weren’t overly large, as I said earlier, but without
a bra they would bounce so invitingly with every step. Her skirt
was so short that it only barely covered her ass cheeks. It was
easy to imagine she was naked beneath it, and the men would no
doubt be rushing to the bathroom to ease some tension if they
knew that was indeed how she was dressed. More than one woman had
to reign in their man with a poke in the ribs or a discrete
whisper command. I had no doubt that several men from the mall
were going without affection tonight.

The most interesting reaction to me, though, was the women who
didn’t shrink their eyes in disgust as my slut walked past them.
A small number of them would scan her and dismiss her outright or
even smile at us slightly.

There was one woman who held the gaze longer than the others. She
slowed her pace considerably to maximize the time we would be in
view, and after we walked past her, she stopped and turned to
watch us a moment longer. I looked at her directly and raised an
eyebrow in question. She winked at me before disappearing into
the crowd.

I steered us to the far end of the mall to the Sears store there.
As we strolled I glanced at my slut and was pleasantly surprised
by the content look on her face. Her collar was prominently
displayed on her neck, though the tag with her pet name was
decently covered under her blouse which both covered and revealed
at the same time.
She walked beside me lazily, without a care in the world. “You
look content, Pet.” I asked her.

“Mmm hmmm. I haven’t been this relaxed in years.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” she looked at me for a moment and smiled coyly before
answering, “I have a Master.”

We arrived at the doors to Sears and I guided her inside and to
the teen girl section. I wanted a few skirts to show her off in,
but the selection wasn’t that great. Even though the skirts were
small, they didn’t look right. I wanted something that announced
her sluttiness to the world at large, but maintained a certain
degree of class; slutty-chic, I guess you could call it. We left
the store disappointed.

As we strolled through the mall we came across this small
boutique holed away in an awkward corner that provided little
foot traffic. We only discovered it because we were looking for a
rest room and thought the kitty-corner that sheltered the
entrance from the main portion of the mall was the beginning of
one of those hallways that always seem to lead to the bathrooms
and the janitor’s closet. Inside though, we were surprised to
find a quality selection of tastefully revealing outfits.

We browsed while the lonely clerk lazed at the till humming
quietly to herself. I picked four outfits for my little sexpot to
try on, and eliminated two after careful consideration.

“Would you like to try those on?” the clerk asked. “Sure,” I
replied. “It’s pretty dead in here,” I said casually while
waiting for her to retrieve the key to open the changing room
door.

“Tell me about it. You’re only my third customer all day. The
boss says the location keeps the rent down, but,” she shrugged
her shoulders (causing delicious things to happen to her
impressive rack), “it hardly seems worth it.”

She opened the door with a practiced twist of the key and held it
open while my pet scurried inside with her outfits. The girl
carefully closed the door behind her and returned to her station
at the till and resumed her quiet humming.

It only took a few moments for my toy to open the change room
door and display the short, dark skirt and light, midriff-baring
blouse I had selected. I glanced over at the cashier and noticed
she was arranging sweaters on display near the front of the
store. Her back was to us.

I grabbed my slut’s hand and pulled her back into the change
room, locking the door behind us. “Come here” I whispered softly.
She stepped forward into my arms and looked up at me expectantly.
I slowly lowered my zipper and pulled out my flaccid cock. With a
wordless glance to my crotch, I ordered her onto her knees. She
delicately placed my member in her mouth and began sucking it
softly, lovingly.

In no time at all she had me fully erect and shiny with her
saliva. I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her upwards, on to
her feet. I didn’t even flip up her skirt; I just stepped
forwards and pushed my hips upwards, burying myself fully in her
swampy cunt in one shove. I reached around and grabbed her ass
with both hands as I started sawing in and out in a steady
rhythm.

She put her hand in her mouth to keep from making too much noise
as I picked up speed. I knew I was going to blow pretty quickly
given the situation, and my breathing quickly became ragged. As I
felt the tingling in my balls I pulled out until just the head of
my dick was inside her and blasted four powerful spurts of milky
goodness into her velvety channel.

My knees sagged heavily after my release, but I held onto her ass
as I regained control of my breathing. It only took a minute or
two for my heart to stop pounding and my breath finally returned
to normal. I smiled at my slut and she just looked adoringly at
me. “Clean me off,” I whispered. She immediately pulled away from
me with a rude squelch, and dropped to her knees where she licked
away the creamy spend that covered my cock and balls.

An evil thought peeked into my head, so I let her stay down there
nibbling on my balls for a few extra minutes as I developed said
evil thought into a full-grown mischievous plot. After a total of
about five minutes I reached down and reluctantly pulled her
sucking mouth from my flaccid member. I did up my jeans and had
her stand.

“Take off your skirt and change back into your original clothes.”
I instructed. I grabbed the second outfit from the hanger and
held out my hand for each piece of clothing as she shed it. When
she was redressed we exited the change room and made our way to
the cash, where the bored clerk was now reading a book.

She looked up as we approached and asked, “How did everything
work out for you?”

“Just fine, thanks. We’ll take all of it.” She smiled prettily
and scanned in the two blouses before folding them in that way
only clothing store salespeople can manage and then bagged them
gently. She passed her scanner over the first skirt, but as she
went to fold it she glimpsed the glistening stain in the seat.
She stopped and frowned momentarily, and finally realized what
she was seeing.
I leaned forward dramatically and made a show of inspecting the
garment before exclaiming “Jesus, slut! Look what you did. You
soiled that skirt.” My slut looked absolutely mortified and
stared directly down at the floor. Her skin turned a bright shade
of pink. “Now you don’t expect this nice lady to handle soiled
clothing like that, do you?” I asked rhetorically.

The girl dropped the small, black garment on the counter as
though it was red hot and recoiled as her brain fully processed
what the slick, wet stain meant. The horror on her face was
evident, just as evident as the shame and embarrassment on the
face of my slut. “Clean that up before I’m forced to punish you.”
I commanded.

“Yes, sir” my slut replied meekly, then picked up the dark pool
of cotton from the counter and brought it to her mouth. She
methodically licked every remnant of our juices from the
material. She even folded the stained section and placed the
entire thing in her mouth and sucked on the fibres until they
were completely spotless, albeit still damp.

The counter girl, meanwhile, continued to watch with a look of
utter horror on her face. When my slut finished cleaning the
garment, she placed it on the counter and then returned her gaze
immediately to the floor. The red blotches on her face, neck and
shoulders belied the level of her embarrassment.

The clerk just stood there, transfixed, and clearly unsure of
what to do or say. Time just seem to stop as she processed the
visual record of what just transpired. “Now slut,” I began, “you
don’t honestly expect her to touch that filthy rag again, do
you?” My tone indicated I didn’t expect an answer. “Why don’t you
just put it on and wear it home, since you’re so obviously
excited about buying it?”

My slut collected the black skirt and turned to head towards the
change room in the back. “I don’t have all day to wait for you,
just change here, now.” She paused momentarily. Her eyes briefly
flitted up from the floor to my face, perhaps to gauge my
seriousness, and then returned to their default downcast
position. After ten seconds, she closed her eyes, swallowed, and
slowly reached behind her and unzipped her skirt. She dropped it
to the floor without ceremony, and adjusted the new black skirt
to step into it.

The clerk’s expression changed from horror to pure shock as she
witnessed this fully grown woman getting naked in front of her at
the command of a 17-year old boy. When she saw the tattoo over my
slut’s mons, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

I turned to the clerk and asked, “How much do we owe you?”

She stammered and was visibly shaken as she scanned the last
article. “Umm, uh, eighty-five, uhh, thirty-nine.”

“Pay her, slut.”

“Yes, sir.”
While my play toy handed her credit card to the shell-shocked
clerk, who had considerable trouble ringing in the purchase, I
stood silently, observing, with my hands comfortably behind my
back. The cashier handed the credit card receipt to her to sign
and looked down at the counter in front of her. Her eyes, though,
never once left my pet as she carefully scribbled her name on the
receipt. The cashier’s blush was almost a perfect match to my
slut’s as she finished the transaction and handed the bag over.

“Have a great day.” I said cheerfully as we left the store and
re-entered the mall. I have no doubt that she didn’t blink a
single time until we were out of eyesight.

We left the mall and headed home, all without saying a word to
each other. I wanted to see how long my toy would go without
speaking, so I played the silence game. When we pulled up to the
house, she wordlessly exited the car and opened the front door
for me. She quietly stood aside and waited for me to enter.

When the door was closed behind her, she immediately kicked off
her shoes, removed her blouse and skirt and kneeled in the foyer
with her knees about three feet apart and her hands at the small
of her back. Her eyes were aimed squarely at the floor.

I silently circled her kneeling form and drank in the erotic
sight of my little toy, my plaything, my living doll.
Unfortunately, biology caught up with me, and, to quote John
Laroquette, my racehorse refused to leave the gate. I guess four
orgasms in one day were as many as I was going to get.

So instead of jumping my slut's wonderfully beautiful bones and
ravishing her for hours, I strolled into the bedroom to take a
deeper inventory of our toy chest. I selected a set of nipple
clamps and returned to the front door where my slut was dutifully
kneeling awaiting instructions.

I clipped her left nipple. No response other than a sharp intake
of breath. I clipped her right nipple. She whimpered slightly but
did not move.

"I'm going to take a nap. You will prepare supper and wake me in
two hours." With that I jogged up the stairs, taking them two at
a time. I brazenly strolled into the master bedroom, and curled
up in the bed, fully clothed.

The next thing I knew, a butterfly had landed on my nose. It took
off softly and landed a few seconds later on my forehead. From
there it fluttered down to my chin and then continued on to my
neck. I cracked my eyes slightly and closed them tightly again as
the light screamed in.

I blinked away the sleep from my eyes and took a few seconds to
focus. I looked down into a pair of deep, brown, watery eyes that
looked up at me in, I surmised, something akin to wonder.

"Wakey, wakey, Master." She whispered softly. "How long have I
been out?" I asked.

"About three hours, sir." I raised an eyebrow. "Three?"

"I made lasagne from scratch. It took longer than I expected."
Her eyes never left mine as she spoke. I nodded.

I pushed her body off of mine and sat up, throwing my legs over
the side of the bed.  "Over my lap, now."

Wordlessly, my slut adjusted her position until she was
comfortably straddled over my lap. "How long were you supposed to
let me sleep?"

"Two hours."

"Two hours, what?"

"Two hours, sir." I slapped her naked butt harshly, drawing a
sharp "Oh" from her.

"And how long did you let me sleep?"

"Almost three hours, sir." I slapped her again. "How long?" I
asked again.

 She hesitated. “A-almost three hours…sir?” she asked, confused.

I slapped her ass a third time. “I won’t ask again. How long did
you let me sleep?”

“Two hours and fourty-three minutes, sir.”

“Well then,” I said, “you will receive fourty-three slaps for
disobeying me fourty-three times. Count.”

I brought my hand down hard and fast with the skin on my palm
tightened by over-extending my fingers just slightly. The net
effect was a satisfying smack and a whimper followed quickly by a
subdued “one” from my slut. I immediately reeled back my hand and
brought it down on her other cheek. Before she had even counted
“two”, I was already cocked for my next blow.

The first ten strokes were the same as the first: quick, sharp
and equally spaced. Her bottom glowed a delightful red and I knew
her tears had nothing to do with pain. Every time she counted off
a spank I could hear the smile in her voice. It was obvious from
her behaviour that she had deliberately pushed me into punishing
her. I was determined to ensure that she got more than she
bargained for.

After the first ten were done and I could feel the heat in her
ass, I altered my pace. Some strokes came two-at-a-time, others
were spaced thirty seconds apart. She never missed a single
count. By twenty, I could smell her arousal; by thirty I could
feel the moisture soaking through my jeans. At forty, she was
rotating her ass in eager circles, seeking out the contact with
my hand.

"You are not to come." I instructed before meting out the last
three blows. I saved the best for last and put every ounce I had
into them. I kept an even pace for all three blows to make sure
she felt each one independently. I didn't want her to miss out on
even a moment's fun.
She stayed there, over my lamp, whimpering slightly. Her teeth
were clamped down on her bottom lip tightly, making it fairly
obvious that she was trying hard not to explode in orgasm. I
brought my throbbing right hand to her left ass cheek and felt
the incredible heat coming from her bottom. When my skin
contacted hers she breathed in suddenly and muttered a small cry
under her breath.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"So…close…please?"

"No. You are being punished."

She didn't say anything but she kept her eyes closed in
concentration and bit her lip again. After a minute I even heard
a little whimpering from her, but still no orgasm.

"Reach back and spread your cheeks."

Her hands shook as she reached back and spread her ass cheeks
obscenely. The dark brown pucker of her asshole was distended
very slightly, but her wet pussy lips were splayed open
indecently.

“Do you want to cum?” I asked her. “Please!” she moaned back.

“But you’ve been bad.” I told her. She moaned again, louder this
time. “Why should I allow you to cum when you manipulated me into
punishing you?” At this, she grunted in frustration and whimpered
another request. “Please? Master? I need it sooooo bad…”

I licked my index finger and slowly traced the outline of her
drenched labia with it. I knew I was teasing her mercilessly, but
she had asked for it. “What am I to do with you, my little pet?”
I asked her, never expecting an answer.

“FUCK ME!” she screamed, loud enough to shock me. “No, I don’t
think so.” I replied.

This was indeed a new experience for me. As my slut mother lay
across my lap, obviously delirious with passion, I calmly and
almost disinterestedly traced my finger through her slimy sex to
tease her. “However,” I intoned, “I do think I will allow you one
orgasm.”

With that, I cocked my hand back and brought it straight down
into her sex and smacked her as hard as I dare in such a delicate
area. The reaction was immediate, powerful, and impressively
silent. Every muscle in her body convulsed, and she arched
herself backwards in my lap. Her back was fully contracted,
making an almost U-shaped form that left only her tummy in
contact with my knees. I had every confidence that if I had stood
up she would have remained there perched and floating in the air
with nothing holding her up.

I could see the trembling in her leg muscles, and the features of
her face were contorted into the most unbelievable mask of
blissful agony I had ever seen. After what seemed like an hour of
this tortuous silence, she loudly exhaled and slumped over my lap
again, clearly drained.

I heard her murmur something but couldn’t quite make it out.
“What was that?” I asked. “…thank…you…master…” she muttered,
still barely audible.

I smiled and lifted her from my lap as though she were as light
as a feather. I tucked her into her former bed, and went
downstairs to the delicious aroma of homemade lasagne.