Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - She goes into Kmart out of curiosity, which leads her down a path she never thought about.
I looked around the parking lot as I approached the store front. I didn't really like this store, but it'd been years since I'd last been to a KMart. I was curious to see how it'd progressed in it's attempt to lure in the customers, other than that, I was really just killing time.
I entered the store and, to my pleasure, it did look more welcoming. The myriad of people, products and colours weren't so confusing to the senses as many places had become over the years. I walked further into the store. I decided that my first stop would be home decorating. I'm always looking for new ideas for my rooms and, after spotting the telltale sign, I headed off in that direction.
I meandered, like a slow moving river in the hills, between aisles, people and display cases. I was beginning to feel like I'd been released in a candy store as I passed the racks spouting wonderful products for wonderfully low prices. I kept my hands to my side, though, to avoid undue temptations. My walk, however took me not to the home decorations, but to the pet supplies department. Well, my dog did need a new bone.
I stood in the aisle looking at the selection of dog chews, toys, medicines and other dog supplies -- some necessary others nothing more than a waste of money. I finally found the -- the big ones -- that my dog enjoys. I had to stoop down low to read the price cards that were posted on each bin. Feeling my back protest with the prolonged position, I finally gave up and got down on my knees -- heedless of anyone around me.
"Now that's a position I like to see my women in." I heard a masculine voice whisper beside me. I look up and stared into your face, taking in the reddish-gray hair, the slightly bent nose, the small, rather weak looking chin. You are not smiling, though. I smirk in response to such an appalling and obviously male chauvinistic comment.
Ignoring you, I select a bone and crawl down to the collars, thankful to put several feet between us. I reach for a nice leather one with rhinestones and feel it's weight in my small hand. Caressing the soft underside of the leather strap, I hear you again whispering to me, "Is that for spanking or for your lovely neck?" I look up from my kneeling position and again, I see that you are not smiling. You are however, staring at me intently. I toss the collar into the bin just below the hanging collars and rise to my feet. I'd had enough of your comments and wished only to be rid of you. I moved off, again headed in the direction of home decorations.
I passed the hardware department and caught a glimpse of rope down one of the less crowded aisles. That reminded me, so I headed off down the aisle, targeting the clothes line. Soon, I'd have a place to hang clothes outside and I wanted to be sure I had line ready. I looked forward to sun dried sheets in the summertime. I loved the heady smell of the outdoors.
I squeezed my way in between two faceless women, my mind chronicling these two strangers and nothing more than part of the scenery -- obstacles to be mounted. "Excuse me, ladies." I beseech, halfheartedly as I reach for two different ropes. I'm barely aware that they move off down the aisle with a mumbled response. I glanced over at them, wondering about my sudden rudeness to them. "Sorry..." Was all I could say before they disappeared around the corner.
"Nylon is better." Spinning around, I find you standing directly behind me. Our eyes meet and still there is no sign of a smile. "It will work better for suspending a lovely lady from the ceiling." Shocked by your words, I begin to walk backwards.
"That's nice, Sir." I say to you as I too, follow the other nameless, faceless women around the corner of the aisle, still carrying both lengths of ropes with me. A glint of silver catches my eyes as I move out of your sight.
Now, I'm headed in the wrong direction. I had to decide to backtrack or circle around. Looking left and right, I found that I was in the sporting goods department. I laid my rope on a shelf holding fishing tackle and head to the other end of the department, deciding that the roundabout way would be easiest. Besides, I was in a hurry to lose you; I wasn't in a hurry to complete my inspection of the store.
I zipped around the corner and heard several packages drop to the floor. "Damn." I leaned down, swooped up the errant packages of sinkers, tossed them onto a shelf and proceeded on.
As I walked down a side aisle, I watched for you. I wanted to make sure I was finally rid of your cool stare, your odd comments and your commanding stance. I couldn't say I didn't like you; I didn't know you. I couldn't say you were rude; I had no idea why you made such comments. I couldn't say you were handsome; you weren't.
But you were intriguing.
I stopped in my tracks, causing a cart to rear-end me. "Oh!" Came the startled reply of the shopper trailing me. "I'm sorry! I didn't see you." I had to smile.
"It's me who is sorry. I didn't mean to stop so suddenly. You are fine, don't worry about it." I gave her another smile, reassuring her and then headed toward the bedding peeking out from a centre display.
Dish towels. Ho hum.
I looked up and there you were, standing beside me. "Gags?" I had to ask, had to know.
"Better than using balls; when a gag is needed, of course."
"Of course." I responded in kind and wandered off again. I looked behind me to see that you were still standing at the towel display. You appeared to be rummaging through the piles, but that wasn't my concern; mine was putting distance between us. "A gag..." I wondered to myself, smiling foolishly. A gag. This whole adventure was turning into a gag. And the jokes were getting odder.
Heading down another aisle, I come to what I want: Window treatments. Thumbing through the selection for drapery accessories, I come upon a pretty set for someone with fancier tastes. "You don't need a cord, we already have the rope." Instinctively, I looked down into my folded arm, at the ropes bundled there. I could still feel the warmth growing, deep within me.
"These," I said, showing him the ropes, "are for outdoor use; this is for a window, though not my window -- too fancy for me."
I hated you. No, I didn't. I just hated how my mind was playing games with my body every time you came near; every time you said something odd.
I moved away from the fancy drapery sets and off in a new direction. "Screw the decorating stuff, I'll go to house-wares." I couldn't believe you were following me. You made no more pretense of being on your own -- just a wandering shopper who just happens to be following the costumer ahead of him. No. Now you were following a few feet behind me. Never saying anything. Never attempting to walk around me.
Looking at the kitchen utensils, I heard you comment on the wide range of uses -- once one put her imagination to use. "Listen, I can't stand it anymore. Would you be so kind as to let me shop in peace?"
You smiled, "I was only assisting you in your choices, young lady. Can't you humour an older man?" I looked doubtfully at you, shrugged and moved to look at the variety of serving spoons, knives and other gadgets.
I bent to look at a selection of kabob skewers. I'd given my sister my last pack and now wished I hadn't. "Just don't say another word to me, damn it."
I felt your hand on my head, twining my own curly auburn hair in your fingers. "What did you say?" Your look was so stern, so intense, I had to answer -- and fast.
"I said, 'just don't say another word --'" My words were cut short as I felt your hair-entwined fist force me to the floor.
"I ask again, 'What did you say?'" There was an edge to your voice. I felt myself cringing, yet compelled to heed your questioning glare.
"... Or else." My mind finished for you. Whispering up to you, between dry lips, I responded, "I didn't say anything, Sir. I merely commented on the shelved items." I tried to look to the left and right to see if any other customers or clerks were nearby -- or security personnel. The hold on my hair got tighter.
"Forget it. Nobody is around. Not many in need of kitchen utensils today, I guess." Then you released my hair. "Come with me, slut. You are a slut, aren't you?"
I shook my head, denying the assumption. "Yes, you are. All women are sluts. Most just don't want to admit it for fear they'd be outcasts." Again, I shook my head, but followed you obediently back down the aisle.
After you'd only taken a few steps, you stopped and turned to look back at me. Abruptly you asked, "Why are you following me, slut?"
Your question caught me off guard. "I... ?" I hesitated, unsure of myself. You repeated your question, softly.
"You told me to follow you, Sir." I practically spat out the words, but only because I couldn't believe I was saying them. I felt my body begin to tremble. In delight? Anxiety? Fright? Physical arousal? I wasn't sure which was the cause, but I hoped like hell you didn't see.