JULIA
I was surprised Master wanted me to try to seduce someone. It shouldn't have been as much a surprise as it was. He'd said he would offer choices involving women. Of course, I could decline to do it and sit through supper with the Slave Trainer on wishing I could cum. I knew how needy it made me and how much I would suffer should I go several hours without cumming. Since Master had no particular problems with me and a woman, as proven by Mistress Dark, I decided I'd probably go through with it, though I was still pondering how I should go about it.
I should have done it at the first store we stopped at. The sales clerk was a woman, young, tattooed and pierced and looked like she'd welcome some adventure. But, I was still too nervous, too ashamed, to jump right into it. I would have to work myself up to doing it. While there, Master purchased several pair of thigh high stockings, red, black, white, nude, purple, and net. He purchased a strappy, leather something or other which was nothing more than lots of leather straps crisscrossing my body and leaving all the good parts strategically bare. He purchased a purple and black corset with a half cup bra that put my tits on a platter and would go well with the purple or black thigh highs.
Also purchased were sheer red, white and green, brassieres, a cheerleader outfit with a dress covering nothing and mesh top, a white tutu that covered less than the cheerleader dress. He also bought a net body stocking. I pointed out it wasn't really conducive to instant sex and he pointed out it was crotchless, so it really was. Basically, everything we bought there was begging someone to fuck me, so I guessed they would be my secondary choices if I missed my morning blow job.
Next, we went to a store specializing in women's evening attire. It was the last place we were stopping before supper and the last chance I'd have to seduce someone. I was trying to screw up my courage, or I would be a miserable little slave tonight at supper. The lady who waited on us was a stylish, impeccably dressed woman who appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties. She was smooth and classy and acted friendly, although she probably received a commission and could smell a good one coming. Her name was Gwen. Master picked out a half dozen different outfits he wanted me to try on, all of them ridiculously beautiful and incredibly sexy. I deliberately chose outfits either one size larger or smaller than what I suspected I'd wear. I needed to keep her engaged with us for my plan to work, which was basically the one suggested by my Master. I chose one which was on the small side first. It was backless and the only zipper on it was over my butt so I could wiggle into it and have it be tight across my ass.
"Excuse me, Gwen, but I seem to be having difficulty with this zipper, could you please give me a hand."
Of course I was having problems with the zipper. It was at least one size too small. She came into the dressing room with me and tried zipping it up, noticing in the process I had no underwear. The zipper didn't go low enough to reveal my plug, but wasn't far removed from it.
"I think you picked one out too small for you. Can I get a couple larger sizes for you to try on?"
"Please, would you. I should have checked. My Master picked them out."
"Your master?" Her ears pricked up.
"I'm sorry. I should have said my husband. He and I have an unusual relationship. I'm a submissive and he's my dominant. He wants to buy some clothes to show me off."
I could almost hear the mental tsk, tsks. I blushed. "It's embarrassing sometimes when we go out in public, but you wouldn't believe the sex. Please let me try the eight tall please."
Gwen left to get the larger sizes. I quickly stripped off the smaller dress and bent over to supposedly adjust the strap on my high heel. When she returned, I was mooning her. To top it all off, the anal plug started vibrating. I didn't know it could do that, and I almost jumped out of my shoes. I bumped my head into the wall of the changing room.
"Miss, are you all right," Gwen asked as I rubbed my head.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to moon you. I thought you'd be gone longer." Actually, I'd timed it perfectly. "I hope I didn't offend you."
What was she going to say; she was horribly offended and kick us out of the store? Not if she was working on commission.
"No, it's my fault. I should have knocked first." Sweet lady, very professional.
I put on the second dress and it fit perfectly. She could feel the vibrations of the butt plug as she helped with the zipper. So could I, a lot.
"Do you know that thing...you know...the object in you bottom is buzzing?"
"Oh, yes, quite distinctly. I must tell you I'm quite aroused by it. I should like to orgasm, but Master will turn it off before I do." Almost on cue, it went off. I'd almost think he was listening at the door, but I suspected it was mere coincidence. "He almost never allows me to climax. He keeps me aroused all the time, but as his sub, he believes my orgasms belong to him. I have to ask permission to cum, you know. Since he isn't here, I can't ask for permission, so I shall just have to suffer."
I could see the conversation was making her uncomfortable, but at the same time, she was intrigued by what she was hearing. It's like a whole new world was opening up before her.
"We'll take this," I said. "It looks lovely on me, don't you think?"
"Very nice."
I took another dress, this one too large, and put it on in front of her. It was on the sheer side, and normally made to be worn with undergarments, of which I had none.
"Oh, dear. This one's a ten. Do you think it's too sheer?"
"It's made to be worn with slips," Gwen said.
"Master doesn't allow me underwear. I have to be ready for him at any time. If I get this, I'll have to wear it as is. It's why he keeps me aroused. He can have sex with me at any time he wishes by pushing my dress up. Let me try this in an eight as well."
Gwen looked at the other dresses we'd chosen and asked, "Should I find these others in size eight tall as well?"
"Please do."
She disappeared and returned in a couple of minutes, with all the dresses in the appropriate size. She knocked and I held the dress I'd just removed over myself when she came in. I couldn't play this like a total slut.
I set it aside after she closed the door and tried on the new size. It fit perfectly and though shadowy due to the layers, all of my assets would be on display.
"We'll take this one too," I said.
I started putting on an oriental style, silk dress with a long slit up the side, nearly to the waist, which would show off a lot of leg, and perhaps more if I weren't careful. The top was slit down showing a lot of cleavage and was clingy, showing off my big, stiff nipples.
"If it's not prying too much, might I ask how you started this relationship with your husband."
"Of course. I tend to read these naughty romances. Lately, I became interested in the type in which someone is enslaved and made to serve dominant men or women. My husband became intrigued by my fascination with these types of stories. He asked if I'd like to experience it for myself, and the rest is history, as they say."
"So, your husband became your dominant, and you have to do as he says?"
"Yes, or I'm punished. Of course, it's not just my husband who can tell me to do what he says. I'm a sex slave and must do whatever a non-slave or free person tells me what to do. Although I'm only a white silk slave and my sexual organs are off limits to others except my Master. I may only use my mouth or hands to serve anyone else. We'll take this one too. I love it. I shall have to be careful walking or my pussy will be exposed, but the thrill of exposure keeps me on my toes."
"Are you a lesbian?" She asked.
"No," I replied, "but I'm a sex slave and my personal sexual preferences are of no concern. I must satisfy any free person who asks.
"Would I be considered a free person?" Gwen asked.
The bait had been proffered. The hook was set. I just needed to reel her in, carefully, so she didn't spit out the hook.
"Are you a slave to anyone else?" Of course she wasn't.
"No."
"Then you're free."
"So I could ask you to lick me, and you'd have to obey?"
"That would be a true statement."
"I want you to."
"You want me to what, Gwen?"
"I want you to pleasure me, to lick me."
"Right here and now, Mistress?" Putting her in charge.
"Yes. Right now."
I began my seduction of Gwen, just as I'd been trained. Lingering kisses up her legs, stroking with my fingers what I wasn't kissing. By the time I reached her cunt, I could smell her excitement, the thrill of the unknown, the mystery of the perverse. She was having a naked slave lick her cunt in the store where she worked. I pulled down her panties and they clung to her pussy, the sodden wetness of her arousal. Master started my anal vibrator again and I started, surprised, but remembering my training, ignored my own pleasure and concentrated on hers. She gasped the first time my lips touched her folds, dewy with her moisture. She moaned softly as I ran my tongue up her slit, collecting her fluids. She nearly stumbled when my fingers penetrated her cunt, having to sit suddenly on the bench when I licked her clit. Because I'd gone slowly, it took me nearly fifteen minutes to give her the first orgasm, only five for the second. My plug stopped vibrating, I halted momentarily, looking up at her.
"Again," she whispered, holding my hair. I brought her to a third orgasm, her hands grinding my face into her cunt. She finally released me after the third when I'd licked all her juices off.
"Mistress," I begged. "A slave has needs too. I can't have an orgasm unless you give it to me."
"I think your Master is right," Gwen said.
"Mistress?" I asked, confused.
"Slaves should be kept wanting and needy."
She stood up, and straightened her clothes. Our positions had been altered. I was no longer a client of the store. I was a slave and one who'd just pleasured her in the bargain. She was in charge, not me.
"Please, Mistress, I'm begging you," I pleaded. "Just use your hands, your fingers, please."
"That's your Master's responsibility. Ask him." She left the changing room and the naked slave kneeling on the floor.