Shopping Kmart - Cover

Shopping Kmart

Copyright© 2001 by Kathy R.

Chapter 6

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6 - She goes into Kmart out of curiosity, which leads her down a path she never thought about.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Reluctant   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom  

Bound to the ladder, blindfolded and furiously working my anal muscles to keep the dowel in place, I can't help but wonder at the silence before me. My demand to let me cum, the evidence between my legs of my previous discharge; my cursing. All of it had gone too far, I think, with you. I cower, as best as I can on the ladder, knowing that my mouth has got to stop working without interaction from my brain.

"Sir," I begin, feeling quite chagrined -- and scared shitless. "I'm sorry. I'll behave now. I promise."

"Why should I believe you?" I jump, surprised at hearing your voice so close to my face.

"Sir, because I believe this to be important to you -- and to myself, even though I don't fully understand why. I do believe this is what you feel best of me, that this is what pleases you. For that, I will behave and do as you wish." I finished, still feeling quite meek, but not as meek as before, after I realized my mistake in demanding that you let me cum so that we could be done with "this"."

I waited with bated breath, silently. Mentally, I have my fingers crossed. I listen intently, hoping against hope that you'll forgive me without feeling the need to punish me.

The minutes -- well, I think they are minutes -- tick by. The quietness around me is becoming heavy. Are you here? I wonder. Are you with me? I dare not say another word. What would I say anyway that I haven't said already? That you didn't already hear? Or know?

The silence stretches out even further. My muscles are aching from holding the dowel in place. The skin under my collar is becoming itchy. I need to take a piss.

My senses come to attention as I hear a small scuffing noise. Movement? You? God, I hope that's you, Sir! I listen intently.

Nothing.

I look left and right, a vain attempt to see past the dishtowel-blindfold. My muscles are working harder now, not just to keep the dowel buried deep in my anus, but also to keep my bladder from releasing its' load. The combined muscles at work are making me even hornier. Not enough to cum, but enough to keep myself aroused. Oh, God, I hated my body!

Concentrate. Concentrate, not on the small noise or your presence, but on your bladder. If the dowel falls, that's life. If you urinate, you're going to end up embarrassing yourself for sure. Concentrate.

My muscles are twitching and spastic from the constant tenseness. I can't help that, I have to keep the bladder muscle -- muscles? -- from relaxing. I have too...

"What's wrong, pet?" Was that a hint of sarcasm I heard in your voice? So soft is the sound of your voice that I can't tell where you are standing. No matter; at this point, I don't care. I'm just glad I'm not alone.

"Sir, I need to urinate." I knew better than to say I needed to use the bathroom. I knew you wouldn't let me down just for that purpose.

"Oh fuck!" I scream as I feel severe pain on my clitoris. The pain, your fingers pinching me, you tell me have caused my muscles to convulse. Piss was rushing from my body, falling, I imagine, like a waterfall and splattering heavily on the pavement below me. Not only am I pissing, like a dog in front of the whole world, but I also felt the dowel shoot out of my anus like a bullet. I barely registered the clatter of wood on hardtop as my bladder continued to drain.

My mind is a jumble of ugly words -- and full of pleadings for this day to be over. My mind is drawing a blank on a clear, concise thought. My mind doesn't know what to think anymore. Is it even my mind anymore... ?

The urine slows, then dies out all together. Silently, I await for the punishment to come.

Shopping KMart © 2000 By Kathy R. Chapter 7

"Tell me, my pet, how do you feel right at this moment?" Your quiet, calm enquiry floored me. How do you expect me to feel? Foolish. Idiotic. Insane.

"Small, Sir. Very small." My cheeks are burning with the embarrassment I feel at having urinated in front of you. It didn't matter that I couldn't control myself, that it was your fingers pinching me that started the flow. No, it didn't matter. What mattered to me was that I did it, me an adult. I breathe deeply once, to get my thoughts under control. I hear you talking...

"... should be proud of yourself, pet. Never feel small. Would you like me to remove you from the ladder?" Was this a trick question? I narrowed my eyes, behind my blindfold as I thought about the alternatives to staying up here and getting down. Thinking what you'd do to me if I stayed up here. Shaking my head, I realize I just can't out-think you. No way in hell, could I ever do that. Not you.

I have to give you credit for being so clever, so persistent, so damn patient. "Shall I take your silence to mean that you wish to stay on the ladder?" Oops...

"No, Sir. I was just thinking." I worded myself very carefully, so as not to be misunderstood. "I would like to be removed from the ladder, Sir. It would please me very much." Whew. I hope this isn't a trick. It wasn't. I felt your hands gently removing my bindings and, wrapping an arm around my waist -- an arm that felt strong and capable of gentleness and strength -- and unhooked my legs from the ladder rungs. I was lowered slowly to the ground.

Not daring to remove my blindfold, I slowly rose to my knees. The pebbles ground into my knees and feet, but I refused to shift. I stared straight ahead, knowing that with being blinded, looking down at the ground or up at your face (wherever that may be) would be silly and senseless. I heard a low chuckle of pleasure. Good. My heart swelled with pride. I did something right -- and it was so simple to do, painless even. I was even happier to realize that you didn't set me down in the puddle I'd created. I had almost forgotten about it, since I remained relatively dry, having had my legs spread wide.

"Why aren't your ears pierced, pet?" The unexpected turn of questions caught me off guard. It was a simple and somewhat mundane question, so I happily, and unhesitatingly, answered. "I did have them pierced, Sir -- twice. Infection each time, proved that I am allergic." I remained quiet and waited for your next question, knowing what it'd be...

"You had to try twice to be convinced it was an allergy?" Smiling, I nodded and explained that the first infection could have been a fluke -- inexperience at having to deal with the responsibility of tending to the new holes.

"Sir, may I ask a question?" Instinct tells me to ask first, even though I know you'd allow me to ask -- still. I felt it a courtesy since you were nice enough to let me down from the ladder. Heck, come to think of it, you hadn't even done me any harm. Caused me embarrassment, perhaps, but that's not so bad. I'll recuperate from that -- already was...

"You may, pet."

Good. "Sir, why did you ask me about the pierced ears?" The scar was barely discernible, the scar tissue in one lobe could barely be felt -- the other having completely healed over.

"Oh, I was just thinking -- for future references."

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