Malls are like women. They come in all shapes and sizes. But the interesting thing I’ve always liked about malls is the same as women. No matter the shape, there usually is something interesting inside to intrigue you. All it takes is a little hunting.
Okay. I admit it. I like window shopping. Who doesn’t? Except Kari. She doesn’t ever window shop. She just shops. I spend thousands in imaginary money on a trip. She spends hundreds and buys exactly what she wants. But who am I kidding? She can afford it.
I had chosen a mall a little farther away than my usual haunt at Katy Mills. This particular retail establishment was much smaller, with a lower occupancy rate, but with a really nice atmosphere. I liked it because it was cozy.
And small. Had I tried the assignment Master Mark had sent me at my regular place, not only would I have had to call on David, but a single lap would have taken me forty minutes. Here, a lap was barely twenty.
As far as footwear goes, a shorter lap was definitely called for. I was wearing my stripper shoes, the four inch heels atop five inch platforms that forced me skyward in a towering balance act that changed my posture, walk, and swing. When you walk in shoes like that, you have to pay attention or you could wobble, fall, and break your ankle. I’ve never understood why strippers and hookers decided to wear shoes like that. It’s insane.
But Master Mark had specified that I was to wear the highest heeled shoe I’ve got, and that meant I donned the clear plastic and quite uncomfortable shoes. Balance be damned. As I got out of the car I stood up and smoothed down the blue denim skirt I was wearing. Not that it needed smoothing. In reality I was probably trying to unconsciously make it longer, but as it was the damn thing was below my hip bones and still barely covered the necessities. I felt like if I twitched the damn thing would fall off.
My midriff was bare, but that was mostly due to the fact that I couldn’t bull the skirt up above my hips because then my ass would have been hanging out, and since I wasn’t wearing panties under the thing, I didn’t want to cause a ruckus. My breasts were stuffed into a yellow halter top, nothing special, though I’d owned it for a few years and evidently the girlish figure I’d had when I purchased the thing was gone, and in its place was a woman. I might have well have been wearing a pushup bra for all intents and purposes.
Of course there was one more thing I was wearing, but no one could see it. Had anyone been paying attention, they might have wondered about the flash of pink at the small of my back, where the wire to the rose colored remote was stuck in the back pocket of my overly tight and short skirt. That wire, had they bothered to trace it downward, disappeared into my skirt, through my buttocks, and around to my front, where my Rotating Venus Penis, or RVP for short, was nestled, strapped to my waist with Velcro.
The RVP is a pretty diabolical toy. First of all it comes with a four inch plastic penis, which admittedly isn’t much in the way of length, especially for a sex novelty. But since said plastic penis also happens to SPIN (which is why they call it a ROTATING Venus Penis) four inches is more than enough to propel me into space. The base of the thing holds the motor to spin the little phallus, but it also has a second motor which shakes the whole apparatus violently, and since the base is tall enough not only to provide a mount for the spinning, vibrating phallus, it also touches your clit, which means it operates as a butterfly clitoral stimulator as well. So you can imagine what kind of sensation that thing brings to the table.
Then I did something some of you won’t believe. I pulled out a piece of paper and looked down at it. It was a bit of a note from a friend, a girl named Sarah, who lived on the other side of the country.
I dressed in a yellow outfit, skirt and halter top, and drove to the mall. I managed to find a parking space near a door because the RVP was sooooo yummy!
Sarah had contacted me and begged me to share an assignment. She had managed to do it before I did and not only had I liked what she had done with it, but wondered if I’d have the same kind of experience. I marched into the mall and as the air conditioned environment cooled me down from the afternoon’s baking sun, I turned the vibration function to medium and immediately gasped, my loins tightening dramatically.
I turned to my right and began walking, concentrating more on not making an ass of myself from falling than on where I was going, or looking in the various windows of the shops that lined the common area. I could feel the vibrations from the RVP against my clit and inside me as well and as I took each careful step, the movement of my hips, right to left, that were a necessity for walking with high heels actually made the vibrations worse.
Worse as in, I got turned on quicker. Okay, I was turned on from the moment I stuck the damn thing in myself that morning. But you have to understand, I’d had no orgasms all day! I was so ready to cum that just walking along like that, with it rumbling lightly between my legs set me on edge. I tugged out Sarah’s paper again and read as I walked.
Around halfway through the first lap, I could feel my legs getting wet from the juices running down my legs, and my stride was getting more and more erratic. Or is that erotic? The last quarter of a lap was terrible. I was holding an edge, doing my best not to go over it and cum.
I understood completely. I could feel the moisture trickling, though I wasn’t gushing at that point, not yet at least. I wasn’t having trouble walking yet, but I knew that would come soon enough, as would I.
Master Mark’s assignment had been simple, yet devious. Walk the mall and don’t cum. That was it. Each lap would involve a different setting on the RVP with predictably more difficult sensations for us to endure. The punishment for cumming was diabolical. My bag held my four inch anal plug as well as a set of nipple clamps. As I finished the first lap my entire body was tense and I’m absolutely positive that I was pretty much the center of attention. Most people find it hard to ignore a pretty girl in a short skirt and halter top, but when you had stupidly high heels, and bright, fire engine red hair, along with a walk that oozes sex (literally oozes!), you sort of have to expect to be stared at.
After finishing the first lap I was so close, so desperate. I ducked into a restroom, put my hand on my mouth and couldn’t stop. I exploded hard, my body shaking with desire. I leaned against the wall, the tiles cool against my head, and when I felt ready, I pulled my bottom plug out of my handbag, put some lube on it, and gingerly pushed it into my ass. Knowing that it wasn’t going to get any easier, I used some tissue to clean up the puddle I’d made on the floor, I turned the RVP’s rotating function to low. Now the thing was spinning inside me, as well as shaking. Although I wanted to walk quickly before cumming a second time, a rotating and vibrating dildo, a butt plug, and six inch heels don’t let you walk very fast, or very far, easily.
I swallowed. I too was on edge, desperately so, but I also knew that Master Mark’s punishments were a trap. If I allowed myself to cum, then I’d have to stick the anal plug in, and as Sarah observed, walking like that wasn’t easy. But regardless, I’d finished my lap and that meant turning the RVP’s rotation function on. I found a quiet niche and pulled the remote from my back pocket, pushing the slide control forward.
I don’t handle the rotation function very well, and Master Mark knew that, which is why he made it the second requirement, rather than the first. I’m not sure why I’m overly sensitive to the spinning toy, but I am, and on low, all by itself, I’d still be cumming in fifteen or so minutes. But on edge? Slightly mad with desire? With the vibration already having churned me into a sexual froth? While prancing around in a slutty outfit at the mall, being stared at?
I made it four feet.
I almost swooned and had to put my hand on the wall to keep from collapsing into a pile of cumming girl goo. My hips jerked back and forth on their own, completely without any input from my now sex blasted brain. The endorphins and adrenaline mixed in my bloodstream, my heart pounded and I could feel my pussy wrapped around the spinning, vibrating dildo, squeezing it violently. And since I was in the middle of mall, with people walking by me, it wasn’t like I could scream out in pleasure. I couldn’t control the shaking though. That pressure, that tension has to go somewhere. Right?
“Are you okay miss?” a guy asked me. I looked at him, eyes wild, trying to summon the ability to actually talk to him through the orgasm. It wasn’t easy. I nodded.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, the words rushing out of me like a flash flood. “I’m okay! Really! I’m fine! Please, I’m okay!”
He blinked, staring at me, adding up the facts and my figure. He was a nice looking man, young, dark skin, full head of hair, wearing a black jeans and a polo shirt. His eyebrow went up as he looked at me.
“Are you… having an orgasm?” he asked suddenly.
For a second I though the sun had burst through the roof and given me a third degree sunburn. Then I realized I was just blushing. I stammered something incomprehensible and stumbled away, which was quite a trick considering I was wearing the feminine, socially acceptable version of stilts. How Sarah could do it with six inch heels was beyond me.
I didn’t go far. I just wanted to get away from the nice guy who was so astute he knew I was having a sexual epiphany. I ducked into a clothing store, grabbed a random dress off a rack, and marched back to the changing room. Closing the door was sweet bliss and I trembled as I slid down onto the bench, the RVP still churning and shaking between my legs.
I opened my purse, not wanting to do what I was about to do, but it was the rules. Sarah had done it. She had willingly gotten out an anal plug, lubricated it, and then jammed it in her ass. And I was about to do the same thing. There was a small bottle of grapeseed oil I keep in my purse for occasions like this, and I liberally applied a teaspoons worth to my four inch long, tapered bottom plug. I want you to understand that I wasn’t cheating here. This was a BIG plug. At the base it widened to three and a half inches and I find that particular plug to be very uncomfortable. Walking with it in is a trial. At that point, I could only imagine what doing another two laps with it shoved up my rear would feel like.
There are two ways to put in a butt plug if you’re by yourself. One, you can bend over, put a leg up on something, like a bench, and reach behind and gently push it in. Or if you’re a sadistic madwoman, you can set it down on something and just sit down. Sarah did it the smart way.
Me? I’m not known for my brains. Besides, I’ve almost always put in butt plugs that way.
I tried to keep the groaning to a minimum, but available real estate in my bottom was at a premium and the plug basically forced its way in. I whimpered, I moaned, and with the RVP still doing its thing, spinning and rumbling and basically driving me sexually crazy, getting my ass packed just complicated things immensely. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it all. When the base settled against my crack and I was fully impaled, I struggled to get up.
Now I felt… like a turkey. Stuffed and dressed for roasting. I had four inches of plastic cock up the front and four inches of rubber in the rear. The only thing that could have been worse had I not brought my biggest anal plug, and instead selected my vibrating one. That would have been bad. At that point, size was better for me than vibration.
Trust me. I didn’t want to cum again.
I took about five minutes to pull myself together, which was as stupid as it sounds. The last thing I needed was time, because I could already feel the second orgasm building in my depths. The RVP was purring and stirring and I was a pot simmering, just on the edge of boiling. Taking my time was stupid. I needed to hurry. Finish the lap, then do the last one and hope to hell that I could handle the stimulation and not need the nipple clamps.
I know. You’re laughing at me, aren’t you? You’re enjoying this.
I emerged from the store and turned again, moving down the mall. The place wasn’t packed with people, being a workday and after the lunch hour, but there were enough. I concentrated on one thing; putting my foot forward and taking a step without falling or cumming. That was very, very difficult. Now I understood what Sarah had meant when she said her stride had become erratic. My hips were swinging wide, and to my horror, I figured out that crossing my ankles with each step, like the models did, actually made it easier to bear the vibrations, spinning, and stuffed sensation coming from my lower half. And THAT drew even more attention to me.
I felt a trickle and my eyes widened in alarm as I realized that the juices coming from my sex were now actually leaking down my leg. No one had noticed yet, but I tried to hurry, knowing that there was a bathroom up ahead. It was three quarters of the way around the second lap and I held to the hope that I’d make it there before having another public orgasm.
On my second lap I had a few nice people ask me if I was okay. I told them I was. It wasn’t like I could confess to having a sex toy stuffed in both holes. I think I got less than halfway and I couldn’t hold off any longer. The first orgasm had felt so good and served as a warm-up. Trembling, I ducked into an alcove, out of sight, and shuddered through another cumming. As soon as I could think straight, I rummaged in my handbag and found the clover clamps, steel pincers meant to torment. I slipped them under my halter top, letting them lock onto the tips of my breasts. Just the bite of the clamps made me want to cum again.
I didn’t make it. To the restroom I mean. I must have been forty or fifty feet away, so close, but my body couldn’t take it. I looked around for a store to duck into, but the one opposite me was closed, a blank wall where a store should be. I leaned against it, my loins contracting and quivering under the sexual onslaught. I couldn’t take it. I closed my eyes, leaned back, bumped my ass against the wall, and let loose.
Yeah, like THAT didn’t garner attention.
A number of people stared at me, wondering what the hell was wrong with the slutty dressed girl over at the wall. Maybe a few put together the glistening wetness on my legs, the skirt that was barely hanging on my ass, the thrust of my hips, and the half-baked expression of vapid pleasure on my face. But I’m guessing most people just thought I was nuts. Maybe psycho. I’ve got no idea. But I hadn’t even finished my second lap and there I was, having an orgasm.
I reeled forward, my brain off balance from the rush of sexual bliss combined with the absolute mortification of being a spectacle in public. I was watched, even stared at, as I moved forward, my legs feeling as if they were filled with lead, while my bottom rocked. The bathroom beckoned and I made it there just as the first stream of sex juice made it to my foot. Talk about gross. Who wants to have cum in their shoe? Besides, the whole idea scared me. Slippery high heels?
Once in the bathroom I cleaned myself up as much as I could. The scent of sex permeated the air and even overpowered the rose scented freshener they used to keep the restroom smelling nice. I hadn’t finished the second lap yet, so I didn’t need to screw with the RVP, but I had cum again, and that required punishment.
Master Mark had left the choice of clamps to both Sarah and me. She had chosen Japanese Clover Clamps, massive metal jaws that, when pulled upon, actually tighten. I pulled out her paper and read her sentence.
Adjusting my halter top so that the clamps weren’t too obvious, I continued the lap.
I had trouble believing it. How could clover clamps not be obvious under a halter top? They’re huge! At least mine are. I hadn’t brought them. I had instead brought a pair of my smallest, least obtrusive, tiniest clamps. I had actually arranged them by size before selecting.
In hindsight, that was fucking stupid. I should have brought the clover clamps. Fuck obvious.
I pulled up my halter top and my breasts popped out of the restricting material. My nipples were already hard as pebbles, tiny points capping my creamy bosom. My areolas are the size of half dollars and the tips pink. The nipple on the right is pierced with a gold hoop, and dangling from it is a small charm padlock, engraved with a black enameled rose. With a trembling hand, I lifted the first of my alligator clamps, and let it pinch tightly behind the piercing.
Pain shot through me. Lots of it. Now I have to admit that these alligator clamps have been altered. They aren’t set on factory defaults, or however you technical people like to describe shit like this. The springs had been bent so the tension or torque or pressure or whatever was dramatically reduced. Still, there were teeth, and while the clamp no longer had the tension to bite through my nipple, it certainly had enough to hang on through a few jumping jacks, had I been so inclined. So yes, it still hurt.
The second clamp went on easier and the chain connecting them dangled down toward my belly. I’m not going to lie. I liked it. I like those clamps. Yes, they hurt. Yes, they are a trial. Yes, they make my nipples sore and tender and painful. But do you have any idea what that pain does to a girl who has her ass stuffed, her clit vibrated, and her depths spun like a martini that has been shaken AND stirred?
I pulled down my halter top and a fresh burst of agony blossomed at the tips of my breasts. The material pushed tight on the clamps and the outlines were so damn obvious that someone would need to be blind not to see what I had on underneath my shirt. Worse, the chain hung beneath the bottom, attracting even more attention to my chest since the eye would catch on the steel chain and follow it upward. There was no hiding where the chain ended, or how it was attached. And the RVP just kept spinning and rumbling.
I stumbled out of the bathroom, still feeling the gathering wetness between my legs and I moved with a stilted, stiff walk that probably looked even odder than the sexy walk, or the simple sway I’d adopted on my first round. Now people were really staring at me, their eyes fixated on my clamped breasts, understanding fully that the chain was fixed to my nipples. There were comments, degrading ones, from a few women, and then a wolf whistle. I hurried away, but that merely made the strumming of my strings even more intense. I finished the last of lap two, my body humming with sexual need despite the orgasm I’d just had minutes before. Sometimes, being multi-orgasmic is NOT a good thing. I was right near the entrance where I’d come into the mall and I only had one more thing to do before I could leave. I ducked into the nearest store, and not bothering to find a changing room, I just stood behind a clothing rack and turned the RVP’s controls to maximum.
By this stage I was a total mess. My legs barely had any strength and my mind was awash with emotions. All I could think about was the spinning and vibrating between my legs. Sipping some water from a bottle, I did my best to concentrate on not cumming and just walking. I knew however that once I got back to the door of the carpark, I’d have to put both the vibrations and the rotation on their highest settings. There would be no way to hold back, so I did my best to make it to the door without cumming a third time.
Pleasure blasted through me and I stood there blinking, moaning, and just about going insane. My nipples throbbed from the alligator clamps and now with the RVP on full power, I felt like I was being hosed. There is just no easy way to describe what the RVP does to you. It’s not just sex. It’s like overblown insane sex. The recent clean up meant nothing. My thighs were soaked, trickles streaming down both legs. I stood there shaking, wondering if I could even make it out of the mall before cumming again. I knew I had to try.
As I finished the second lap, I put everything on high and literally ran for the car. I wasn’t fast thanks to the high heels and the sex toys, but I knew that I was about to cum hard and extensively unless I got the RVP off. But it was impossible. Just a few steps into the parking lot I started to cum. I stumbled forward, wobbling back and forth like a drunk, until I got to my car. I slumped against the door, fingers trembling as I struggled to turn off the RVP.
I tried to walk normally, but it was impossible, and all I can say is that like Sarah, I made it out of the mall and into the parking lot. Fortunately my truck wasn’t that far away, but still, I didn’t make it, letting out a cry of orgasmic bliss that drew funny looks from the half dozen or so people making their way in and out of the mall. My hand flew down to my crotch, pressing hard against the RVP. I have no idea what I was trying to do. Maybe make it stop, or maybe hold it still? I have no idea, but the pressure of my hand on it made things even worse, and a second wave of orgasm smashed into me, almost as strong as the first. I reeled forward, my hips twitching. I dropped my purse on the ground as I tried to pull the keys out. Then I dropped the keys while picking up my purse, and through it all my loins were contracting and convulsing. I got everything picked up and shoved the key in the lock, my brain stuck in a sexualized loop of “oh my fucking God, I’m cumming.”
If this were fiction, the key would have broken in the lock, the guy in the black jeans and polo shirt would come up, and my skirt would have finally fallen to the ground, exposing my plugged ass and RVP stuffed pussy. But this isn’t fiction. It’s reality. So the only thing that happened was my skirt fell.
Don’t worry. I caught it before it went too far. No one saw anything and I climbed into my truck and shut the door, one hand holding my keys while the other held my skirt. I fumbled for the controls and in sweet bliss, turned everything off.
Tired, so tired. I closed my eyes. The RVP was off. Peace at last, but oh so tired. I leaned back and dozed, trying to replenish the energy I had expended. When I woke it was twenty minutes later. Still stuffed and clamped, but no longer spinning or vibrating, I headed for home. That’s enough playtime for one day.
Tired. So tired. I closed my eyes. The RVP was off and there was peace at last. My nipples still throbbed and I reached up under my shirt and pulled the alligator clamps off, tossing them on the seat next to me. I thought about removing the anal plug, but I just didn’t have the energy. I wanted a nap, to sit back, relax, and maybe get a drink. I could feel the RVP shifting inside me, quiet, waiting, wanting, ready to go at a moment’s notice. And all I needed to do was go back into the mall. It wanted me to do that. Another lap? Maybe two? And each one done clamped and stuffed and spinning and vibrating?
I turned the key in the ignition. Not today. Three orgasms were more than enough to keep me sated.
At least for a little while.
Breanne and Sarah,
For your first assignment challenge, both of you will dress in a short skirt and halter top, sans bra and panties. You will need three toys with you for this assignment, the first being your RVP, the second being a bottom plug of reasonable size, and the third a set of nipple clamps (your choice of style). You will wear your highest set of high heels. With the RVP in and off you will go to the mall of your choice, at the time of your choice. Bring the plug but do not have it in your bottom. You may carry it in your purse along with the nipple clamps. Once you have arrived at the mall turn the vibe function of your RVP to medium and begin walking a lap of the mall's interior. Please try very hard not to cum. Once you have completed the full lap, turn the rotation function to low and complete another lap. Finally, turn both the vibrator and rotation function to their highest setting and leave the mall. Once you get to your vehicle you may turn off the toys. However, should you cum at any time, you will move to a less public place, lubricate the anal plug in whatever manner you wish, and then drive it into your ass. You are still required to finish the two laps. Should you accidentally cum a SECOND time before being able to leave the mall, you will apply the nipple clamps and finish your laps and exit.
Good luck! Master Mark
Special thanks to Sarah for not only being willing to match me, but writing out some thoughts and feelings on her experience and letting me include them! I always like it when someone lets me know that I’m not the only Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut out there! - Bre