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Back at the Sex Shop

Nicki returns to the sex shop and someone gets more than they bargained for
I walked home, heels clicking on the pavement, feeling full of life. What had I done? Something completely out of the ordinary, and it had left me feeling, well, amazing. The world seemed brighter, sharper, louder—Like I had been looking at the world through dirty sunglasses, and now I’d taken them off. I got back to my flat and climbed the stairs; let myself in, dropped my bag, took off my coat and collapsed once more into my chair.

Wow. Now what? It felt like whatever I did with the rest of my day would be a let down compared with that… Given the remnants of cum in my hair and on my face, I decided to take a shower. I threw my dress and undies in the dirty clothes hamper and got under the shower. It felt so good to get clean after what had happened at the shop. I wrapped myself in a towel and my hair in another, then went back into the sitting room. My mobile buzzed, indicating I had a new message; and I rummaged about in my bag to find it; pulling out my latex gifts in the process.

The message was from the agency, indicating somewhat apologetically that they didn’t have anything for me for the next week. Bugger. I had been relying on that income to cover my rent, which was due at the end of the following week. With missing the end of this week’s work and all of next, I was skint.

I needed to do something to cheer myself up. Then I looked again at the lingerie in my lap and realised—that would cheer me up; why don’t I get dressed up? I stood up, dropped the towel to the floor and put on the G-string, stockings and corset. Then I searched out some high-heeled patent boots from the closet and added them to the ensemble. With my hair tied back in a ponytail, I looked at myself in the full-length wardrobe mirror. Wow. The black latex corset accentuated my assets: my trim waist, my big boobs. The latex stockings looked gorgeous on my legs and went beautifully with my boots. A little eye shadow, rouge and scarlet lipstick and I went from wow, to… well, amazing. I tried strutting around my flat in this get up, and, I have to say, it got me pretty excited. I was still skint, but now I was excited too.

If it felt this good to walk around my flat dressed like this, what on earth would it be like to be out and about dressed like this? Even with my long black coat on over this get-up, the latex stockings would be a bit of a giveaway that something was a little… out of the ordinary.

A lump came to my throat as I started thinking about it. How fun would it be to walk the streets like this, with everyone who passed me by wondering what was underneath my coat. The more I thought about it the hornier I got. I got to the point where I couldn’t imagine not doing it. I got my keys, wallet and phone and put them in my coat pocket; wrapped myself in my coat, took a deep breath and opened the door.

A few seconds later I was out on the street. Every so often, I’d meet someone, and get looks of astonishment from those that saw me. The men looked like they would start drooling; women tended to look at me like I was a slut. But what a buzz! After a while, I found myself heading back towards the shop. I stopped and thought. Do I really want to go back there? To the still nameless man who wanked off over me this morning? I realised I did. I wanted to show him the outfit he’d given me, and gauge his reaction.

This time, when the buzzer sounded as I opened the door, I was ready for it. I looked over at the counter and there he was. He had just glanced up from a magazine, when he did a double take. I smiled and walked over to him.

He gulped, then started, “Hello.”

“Hi.”

He looked me up and down, and realised I was wearing the latex stockings. “Oh God,” he said. “Are you wearing the rest of that outfit too?”

“What do you think?”

“Oh shit!” he gulped again. “I’d love to see…”

I raised my eyebrows. I felt I had power over this man, and I suppose I did. “I bet you would.” I let the words hang in the air…

“Do you think you could make it worth my while?”

I smiled and nonchalantly started browsing around the shop—looking at this and that, heading past the magazines and DVDs to the toys. I absently picked up a ball gag, held it up to my face before putting it down again, then found a riding crop. I swished it back and forth, then held both ends and felt its springiness as I flexed it.

There were all sorts of things in this section: whips, handcuffs, gags. Sexy, exciting stuff… The guy was tongue-tied. Had no idea what to say. Before he could say anything, the buzzer sounded and someone else came in. A middle-aged man in a raincoat and carrying a briefcase. He seemed a little startled to see me there, and started to look through the magazines. Every so often he’d glance over at me and I smiled back. The third time, after he’d looked me up and down, I winked at him. Where had that come from? When did I start winking at strangers in sex shops? I suppose it shouldn’t shock me so much, given what had already happened that day.

I looked back at the shop assistant and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of my coat; just enough that he could see some cleavage. He groaned quietly. I could sense that the other guy’s interest was piqued. I turned to him and smiled, lifting my leg just a little so that it pushed apart the bottom of my coat; it gave him a tantalizing look at my latex covered thigh. I smiled and winked again. It wasn’t me blushing any more.

“Wh… what do you want?” asked the shop assistant.

“What do I want?” I repeated, “I think that rather depends on what you want…”

“I…” he whispered, stammering, “I want to see you in that outfit. And… and I’d like to take pictures too.”

The middle-aged guy was inching closer, I think he got the gist of our conversation and wanted to listen in.

“And what do you think that’s worth?” I asked.

“Another twenty quid?”

“Just for a picture of me in this outfit?”

“Well… maybe more than one…? And what if you took off the outfit too?”

“That’ll cost you more…”

“Uh. OK.”

“And no touching.”

“How much more?”

I had to do some quick mental maths. If I played this well, I might end up having the rent to pay at the end of the week. I turned to the other guy. “Are you interested too?”

“Very,” he replied. His cheeks were beet red. I had the feeling that he hadn’t always been the most adventurous of people in the bedroom.

“Well… let me see. How about, you can take as many pictures as you like, and I’ll wear whatever you like from this shop. But no touching. The session lasts an hour and you give me a hundred quid each—plus, anything you give me to wear, I get to keep.”

They agreed way too easily. I think I could have asked for more, but a deal is a deal. It seemed that, for a hundred quid, they were both happy enough with their camera phones. The shop assistant put a note on the door, saying that the shop was closed for lunch. That gave us free rein in the shop—we didn’t need to move to that dirty back room.

I faced the two of them and unbuttoned my coat, I opened it like a flasher and showed off my outfit in all its glory. They loved how I looked and started taking pictures. I smiled, then bit my lip, winked; posing for their cameras, giving them a show. Then I shrugged the coat from my shoulders and put my hands on my hips; click, click. I folded my arms under my boobs, lifting them up, showing them off. They loved that too. I turned away from them and bent over, feeling the latex G-string between my buttocks, knowing that I was showing off my arse to these two lechers. I looked back over my shoulder, with my hands on my arse cheeks and they seemed to love that pose—especially when I licked my lips.

“C… c… can you take off that G-string?” asked middle-aged guy.

I smiled at him and, still bending over, slid the knickers down my legs, so I was showing off my bare arse to him.

“Now stand with your legs further apart, please.” He said. I parted my legs, my feet a good three feet apart. I realised then he had a great view of my pussy as he clicked away with his camera phone. “Yes.” He said, “Just like that.”

I stood up and turned around, letting them both see my hairy pussy. They clicked away like mad things and I could see bulges in both their trousers.

Shop assistant piped up then, “Let us see you wearing something else.”

“Like what?”

He went over to the lingerie section and picked out a fishnet mini-dress. The thing would have been completely indecent to wear in public, but then I guess that was the point. I undid the corset and, as my tits popped out, I realised I hadn’t shown them off before—at least not to either of these two. I wriggled into the mini-dress and asked them how I looked.

“Splendid.”

“Fucking brilliant.” they replied.

I gave them a variety of poses in this new outfit—still wearing the latex stockings and my black patent boots. My nipples were sticking out again—I could feel them poking out of the fishnet material of the dress. They seemed to particularly like it when I crouched down in the dress, knees apart. I must admit I loved the attention of these two; that and the money was enough to get me feeling quite hot and horny.

Shop assistant went over to the toys section and came back with something in his hand. “Wear that now will you?” It wasn’t clothes at all. He had given me a black butt plug.

“Cheeky.”

He nodded.

“I’ll need some lube.”

He gave me a tube of strawberry flavoured lube. I made a big show of squirting lube on the plug—and they took their share of pictures of that, I can tell you. Then they took more as I bent over and started to ease the plug into my asshole. I started groaning; my clitty pulsing as I felt the plug filling fuller and fuller.

They had both gone quiet now; but they carried on taking pictures. Middle aged guy handed me a ball gag with a bright red rubber ball. “You want me to wear that too?”

He nodded.

“Kinky.”

I strapped on the ball gag and bent over again, to show off the butt plug. When I looked over my shoulder at them, they went crazy taking picture after picture. The tents in their trousers were very clearly visible now. They were going to be in need of some relief. I knelt down on all fours and lifted my bum into the air. The two of them loved that and started inching closer as they took their pictures. Shop assistant took out his cock at that stage; I don’t think he could help himself. He started trying to take pictures with one hand and stroke himself with the other.

Middle-aged man went off to the other side of the shop; I did wonder what he was going to come back with. Turns out it was a strap-on harness. I couldn’t really smile with a mouthful of ball-gag. But I stood up, loosened the gag and let it hang around my neck. I stepped into the leg holes of the strap-on harness and moved it into position; the dildo was about eight inches long and bright red. I smiled and held that cock like I meant business. Shop assistant started wanking like there was no tomorrow; he’d just about given up trying to take pictures.

Middle-aged man mumbled something I didn’t quite hear. “What was that?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “I said, I’ll give you another two hundred if… if…”

“If what?”

“If you’ll fuck me with that.”

My eyes went wide, but I have to admit I was turned on by the idea.

“You want me to arse-fuck you with this, for two hundred quid?”

All he could do was gulp and nod. I swear shop assistant guy was literally drooling at the idea. I turned to him, “Well, if you want pictures of that, it’ll cost you an extra hundred.”

Shop assistant was suddenly quite hoarse, but managed, “OK.”

Was there no limit to what they wanted? Was there no limit to what I would do? I had never ever done anything like this before, not even close. I hadn’t read about this stuff, had hardly even fantasised about it, but here I was. And I was loving it. It was as if I was an actress who had suddenly found the role I was destined to play. I rolled my shoulders back, stood up straighter and looked middle-aged man straight in the eyes. “You’re going to do as you’re told, aren’t you?” I paused, and realised there was something missing, “Aren’t you, boy?”

The silence was palpable. I could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, before he whispered, “Yes.”

“Pardon?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Mmmm… Better.”

I grabbed the red plastic cock and held it in caricature, “You want some of this, don’t you boy?”

“Yes Miss.”

“You want to feel this cock in your arse, don’t you?”

He gulped, “Oh God, Yes Miss. I do.”

I smiled. “Well, I don’t think I am quite dressed right for the occasion. You don’t mind if I choose a different outfit, do you boy?”

“Oh no Miss.”

I walked over towards the rack of outfits in the shop and made a show of looking through what was available. The piece I liked best was not so different from the corset I had been wearing, except that it was supposed to stop short of my breasts. But then I saw a full-length black latex cat suit and decided that that was what I really wanted. I told the two men to wait and went into the back room. I took off the fishnet mini-dress and the latex stockings. Instead I put on the cat suit and the corset over it. With the boots back on, the finishing touch was the big red strap-on dildo. I must have looked amazing, because when I re-entered the shop, the assistant’s mouth dropped open and middle-aged man fell to his knees. That made me smile.

I walked over to them and looked down on the middle-aged man on his knees. Virtually sneering at him, I growled, “Lick it, boy.”

His whole demeanour had changed, like he had regressed into some submissive persona; but now he could hardly make eye contact with me and shuffled forwards on his knees. Then he started to lick the red plastic dildo as if it were a real cock. He licked around the rim of the helmet and then along the underside of the shaft. Up and down he went, then started licking at the plastic balls too. I glanced over at the shop assistant and saw him taking pictures of us. He was riveted.

“Do you still want fucking, boy?”

All he could do was look up and nod. I smiled and grabbed the riding crop. I put the end of it to his chin and lifted his face so I could see him as I spoke. “Strip, boy.”

I watched as this man… or mouse… took off his clothes as he knelt before me. He rose briefly to take off his trousers and left all his clothes in a disorderly pile on the filthy floor of the shop. Then, there he was kneeling naked in front of me, and willing to pay me handsomely to fuck his backside with a big red cock.

I got him to stand up, turn around, and bend over the till. Then, before I lubricated the dildo, I gave him a spanking with that crop. I left some vivid red marks across his arse; but after the yelp which followed my first strike, he remained remarkably, impressively quiet. When I had lubed up the dildo, I started sliding the head up and down along his arse crack. Boy, did that make him moan?

When I rubbed the dildo’s tip around his puckered anus he really started whimpering; I started pushing forward very, very slowly, but I could feel the resistance of his sphincter, before, suddenly, I was in. I was fucking this stranger’s arse. It felt electric. He responded to my every movement as I rocked back and forth, back and forth, sliding more and more dildo into his waiting arse. This was so much better than an office job.

After a while, I got into a rhythm; sliding the whole length of the big plastic dildo in and out of his arsehole; and each time I got the whole way in, I’d slap his arse. Shop assistant was wanking away as I hammered the arse of my middle-aged slave. I realised that slave boy was probably hard as a rock as well, so I reached around to have a feel. He wasn’t particularly well endowed, but his cock was hard and twitching with the excitement of getting fucked. I wrapped my hand around him and started to jerk him in time with my own thrusting. He couldn’t help himself then and really started moaning; within a couple of minutes I felt his whole body tense and jerk, before he collapsed in a heap under me. As he fell, the dildo slipped from his ravaged arsehole and I could see his spunk all over the sex shop floor.

And that was it really… not long afterwards, shop assistant shot his wad (all over slave boy as a matter of fact). I collected all my things, buttoned my coat on over my new latex outfit and got ready to leave. Both men were forthcoming with my money; I ended up with £400 which, for an hour’s work seemed like a really good deal—especially since I took the crop, gag, strap-on, cat suit, the new corset and the lovely riding crop.

After I walked out of the shop and started heading for home, the hurriedly dressed slave boy came running up to me and begged for my phone number. He couldn’t give me his, he explained, as he couldn’t afford for his wife to find out what was going on, but wanted to be able to call me. I thought about it for a moment, then gave him my number. It wasn’t long before he gave me a call. But I’ll tell you about that later.

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