Department Store (5 page)

I watched her shapely ass move enticingly as she walked away from me to locate her outfit. She knew I was watching and put some effort into her walk to make it sexy. She was definitely developing well, very little training but a real talent for this. It had been a slight lie to say I had some real work to do, I had something to do alright but it wasn’t entirely work related.

As she turned the corner out of my sight I ducked back into the lift, carrying her now discarded dress. Quickly I checked for any signs of our activity before heading back to my office. Once there I accessed the security system and logged the recordings out into my own personal encrypted directory. Amy and most of the staff thought we used the old fashioned tape system in the monitoring room. They were there for show and to confuse anyone attempting to rob the place and disable the system. The real records were fully digital and located in the server room.

It took only a matter of minutes to pull the security recordings from all of the cameras and transfer the files. The system automatically logged my action, so the team would know I’d done this. Setting the scene had been easy. I’d previously done this several times, and after checking it had been deliberately the first couple of times, they didn’t even bother to check with me anymore.

Another couple of minutes allowed me to set up the video camera to record my second piece to camera, having done the first before she’d arrived this morning. That was already sitting waiting to dump to DVD, together with the footage of her interview, suitably edited. Checking the clock I still had fifteen minutes to go, so edited in some of the security clips of her activities this morning to enable me to burn the DVD for her husband. I checked the clock again, only a couple of minutes to go. Watching the film clips of my slave’s behaviour had also had another well desired effect. I was ready to go again.

There was a polite knock on the door.

* * * *

As I’d walked away from him, heading for the children’s wear department, I knew he would be watching me. I deliberately put a bit of effort into making my bum move, keeping one foot planted directly in front of the other to emphasise the sway. My mind was reeling, the orgasms he had given me on the floor of the lift had to have been the biggest and best of my life. Yet I still loved my husband so how could I behave like this? Making sense of it was difficult. When I judged I was out of his sight I stopped and spread my legs apart to examine my inner thighs. The slimy trails on my skin glistened under the lights, and I could clearly see the bruises beginning to form where he had carried out his promise to provide love bites on my thighs as tangible evidence. Together with the one on my neck there was no way I was going to be able to hide the evidence, even if he allowed me to get cleaned up and put my own clothes on again. The thought of him carrying out the rest of his threat, or was it promise, to drop me at home in a sexy short skirt with his cum all over me sent another paroxysm of shivers running through me.

The real problem, the dilemma I faced, was straightforward. Despite my love for my husband I didn’t want this to stop. I found myself craving for whatever he was going to do next. As I reached the school wear section of the store and began to locate the required items my mind was already heading down the line...my fantasies of what he was going to do to me once he had me dressed as a schoolgirl were running wild. Glancing down I could see my nipples standing to attention once more, betraying to the security cameras exactly how aroused I now was, once more.

Grabbing the knee highs I perched on the very edge of the only chair in the department and stripped the stockings down my legs in preparation for donning the white ones. The band at the top was soggy with the juices from our love making, which had to be the reason he had made me stand so soon after. Even when it appeared he was being nice to me he was manipulating me. I shuddered and then reached for the stockings to throw them away. At the last second I remembered his instruction and laid them on the counter before reaching for the skirt I’d selected from the rail and fastened it around me. It was quite short, and fastened wrap around style, very similar to the ones I’d worn to school myself only a few years earlier. Thankfully it hid the mess on my thighs.

Next came the blouse. He’d said simply a white one, tight as it would be too small, but nothing else. There were two to choose from, one a thick cotton one, totally opaque, the other thinner, manmade fabric, slightly transparent. There was no choice really and I quickly drew the manmade one on and fastened the buttons, having to squeeze my breasts together to allow it to close. The blouse bulged obscenely, I’d managed to squeeze myself into one two sizes too small despite the struggle. The band between the buttons gaped open all the way down, showing bare flesh at each point. The chest of the blouse was drawn tight over my breasts and the dark nipples poked huge indentations into it. Every movement was delicate torture as the tight material rasped against my tender nubs.

The tie was the penultimate item in this department. I glanced at the clock, bugger! There was only ten minutes left. I tied the tie in the proper manner very quickly, deciding to leave it a couple of inches below its tightest possible just like the modern school girls did when they came into the shop. Everything jumped into focus. This was the uniform from the school just up the block. He hadn’t named it, deliberately waiting for me to realise it. Kinky sod! Grabbing the blazer I ran in my stocking clad feet for the shoe department, stopped halfway and returned to grab the stockings I’d left behind.

Luckily the shoe department was next door to the ladies and as it was late summer the school shoes were on obvious display. Grabbing the first box of black patents that matched his description I pulled them on and then ran back across the sales floor, struggling into the blazer as I ran to reach his office on time. I didn’t want to think about the possible punishment for being late. The thought of those linked ping pong balls crashing onto my naked ass ran through my mind as I knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

* * * *

I looked up as she entered and had to admit she was stunning. I knew she was older than the uniform suggested but with her minimal makeup and her hair out of place she really did look every inch the high school senior. The school uniform kink wasn’t really one for me but I was trying to find her limits and at the same time, in order to play the game as I intended to, fulfil as many of her fantasies as possible at the same time.

“Unbutton the blazer and hold it open.”

“Yes . . . master.”

She looked out of breath, I’d not watched her progress through the store so guessed, correctly, she had been running to make sure she was on time. I watched as she did as she was told, no coyness in her movements at all as she displayed her choice of semi see-through blouse with her breasts quivering inside. Her sizing choice was rather extreme but in line with my commands so I let it go, subtlety could always come later.

“So, no bra, no other underwear?”

“No, sir.”

I didn’t need to say anything or make any gesture, she bent smoothly, grasped the hem of her skirt and lifted it to display her mound to me.

“Very good.”

She allowed the skirt to fall back into place as I stood and released the video camera from its perch on the top of the tripod.

“Come with me.”

Meekly she followed as I led her out to the main staircase and then upstairs into the electronics department. I didn’t look back, trusting her to follow me as I moved through into the televisions display. We used a single programming system to display a chosen channel on all of the sets on display when the shop was open. This was controlled by the department manager from a single remote. This, together with a long cable, was laying waiting for me on the sales desk. I motioned her to stand in the centre of the department and then plugged the loose end of the lead into the camera and pointed it at her. At the same time as I switched the camera on I pressed the external feed button on the remote. One by one the high end large screen plasma and LCD units sprang into life, all displaying a crystal clear image of Amy dressed as a schoolgirl.

The TV coming to life made me jump. When I realised they were showing an image of me, from the camera Mister Chisholm held in his hand, my mouth dropped open in shock. It was very strange to see fifteen to twenty images of me standing there frozen to the spot, mouth gaping, only the eyes moving as I looked from one picture to the next. All of which showed just me of course.

“Amy!”

My head snapped round to look at my master.

“Why don’t you show me how you can dance.”

“Sir?”

He chuckled.

“I want to watch a whole group of you dance for me. I can’t see the problem, can you?”

He touched another remote and the built in departmental sound system began to play soft gentle music, a tune I recognised, one I’d slow danced with Alan to, when we had been courting. Tears sprang to my eyes as it brought my predicament back into my mind from the dusty corner I’d managed to push it off into.

 
He made an impatient gesture, so closing my eyes I began to sway my hips from side to side, gently, smoothly, as I slowly allowed the rhythm of the music to fill my ears and dictate my movements.

The tightness of the blouse made it much more difficult to move my upper body, but slowly I managed to extend my arms above my head and then writhe suggestively on the spot. It didn’t take Einstein to realise he didn’t want me to dance, he wanted me to
dance
. Opening my eyes I was able to watch my movements on the nearest TV sets. It was unnerving since repeating images of myself mimicked every movement in perfect synchronicity.

“Unbutton the blazer, Amy.”

On the nearest TV I suddenly saw a close up of my face as he zoomed the camera in. A moment later the image panned down to my chest, centred on the two buttons holding the blazer closed. The inference was obvious and my hands dropped and slipped first one button and then the other through the holes. I continued to dance with the blazer hanging open to each side awaiting the next instruction, my hands again above my head.

“Lose the blazer.”

As seductively as possible I slipped one shoulder and then the other out of the blazer, all the while watching myself as I performed this slow striptease for him. I have to admit the experience was having an effect on me. As the blazer slowly slipped away down my arms the effect must have been obvious to him. It was to me as I watched my puckered hard nipples push ever further into the blouse.

Once the blazer was all the way off, I caught it in one hand as it dropped, and at a gesture from Mister Chisholm laid it gracefully on the floor next to me before resuming dancing. As I had already confirmed to him I wasn’t wearing underwear I assumed the tie would be next, followed by the blouse and was therefore surprised when he went in a different direction.

“Unbutton the blouse, Amy, from the bottom, leave the tie in place.”

The bottom button of the blouse was beneath the waistband so I had no alternative other than to pull, as gracefully as I could manage, the tail of the garment clear of the skirt. Since he made no move to prevent it, I continued by pulling it free all the way round. To be honest this reduced the tension on the fabric and it was slightly easier to breathe than before. Have you ever seen a woman trying to look seductive and sexy as she unbuttons her blouse starting at the bottom and working up? Not that it was something I’d ever seen done, but watching myself on the screen it looked kind of awkward, certainly not flattering. Nevertheless, I tried hard although it was difficult to see any expression on his face as the camera, and the hand holding it, concealed so much of my view of him.

On the screen the long range view slowly changed to a close up as my fingers toyed with the bottom button. As it popped open my hands moved up to the next, the camera tracking the movement as my hips continued to dip and circle in time to the measured slow beat of the music. Trust me to pick a blouse with so many buttons, the other one, had only had six, this one had more than a dozen. After a couple of buttons I finally got into a rhythm, each button popping open on every other time my hips moved to the left. I think I could see the ghost of a smile on his face in recognition of my efforts as my hands reached the tightest place, where the material stretched out across by boobs.

Finally the last button came open, right up near the collar behind the tie, which now hung lankly down the valley of my cleavage with the blouse caught slightly to the sides. I had to admit it was a sexy image as I continued to dance to the music.

* * * *

It was time to change the game on Amy once more. My finger found the button and flicked the music off. A few feet away the woman slowly came to a halt, wondering what had happened to the rhythm she had been following, wondering also what was about to happen. Her expressive blue eyes concealed nothing as they flitted between me and her own lascivious image on the twenty large TV screens in the department. These also went black and I switched the camera off and moved away from the counter. The large fifty inch screen at the front of the display had an extra just for today. Mounted onto the frame at its rear was a small gorilla pod tripod camera mount. She stood there, her chest heaving inside the open blouse as I moved across and fastened the camera to the tripod head.

“Face me pl—Amy.”

I’d almost said please but she didn’t appear to have noticed as she turned her body in the required direction.

“Move back to the other side of the aisle.”

“Now sit down on the floor right there.”

She looked puzzled as she complied, sitting down with her back leaning against the side of the refrigerator that was there.

“Stretch your legs out in front of you. Now spread them about two feet apart.”

I focused the camera on her as I gave her these instructions and I was pleased to see she continued to obey without hesitation. Satisfied with the camera position and angle I flicked it into record mode again and the TV sets around me came back into life.

Her mouth opened in an ‘o’ as she realised the sexy figure she now portrayed on the screen. With the blouse hanging off, open from the neck all the way down, the tie emphasising her cleavage by partially concealing it, and her legs spread, tightening the skirt I had to agree with her. I adjusted the position of the camera slightly and focused it on her lap before locking off the mount and stepping off to the side. Her head tracked my movements but her eyes kept sliding back to the screen to drink in her own image.

“Amy?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s time for your performance.”

“My performance. . . sir?”

* * * *

His words confused me for a moment and I instinctively asked a question, before realising that just might be a mistake. I blushed scarlet as I realised what I’d done, but eventually relaxed when he seemed to take no notice of my slip, indeed he answered my question.

“Yes, Amy. Your performance. I want to watch you, watch you play with yourself.”

I swallowed hard. This was going to be yet another step past my limit. Alan had never seen me masturbate yet, and although I’d displayed myself to Mister Chisholm and then let him fuck me, twice, I hadn’t actually gone this far.

My body knew what it wanted even if I didn’t. Of their own accord my hands moved from my sides to cup my breasts through the thin blouse. I could feel my nipples responding, trying to burrow into my palms. The wanton image, larger than life, of myself on the screen in front of me, squeezing my tits, was incredible. Sure, as a younger girl just coming to terms with my sexuality, I’d played with myself in front of a mirror but this was the first time I’d watched as a mature young woman.

My mouth opened, tongue flicking across my lips as my eyes fixed on my own image right there a few feet in front of me. I knew there were two choices in terms of proceeding now, I could either uncover my tits and then keep playing with them. Notice they were tits not breasts now. Or I could steeple my knees and allow the skirt to fall off my thighs and reveal my pussy to the camera, dropping my fingers down to the target thus revealed. The picture on the screen of apparently a school girl caught in the fact was incredibly hot. The fact that it was a picture of me was even hotter.

Letting go of my tits, my hands grasped the two open halves of my blouse and slowly pulled them apart, leaving the collar still caught by the tie above and with the tie dangling in the valley in-between. I watched as, on the screen in front of me, my chest became more and more exposed. My breathing became heavier and I could see them rising and falling more and more as I sucked oxygen into my system. After an agonisingly long time, in actuality probably not more than a minute or so, the blouse slipped far enough to the side that my nipples popped into view. They were extended, hard and I could feel them throbbing as the blood flow through them increased in time with my breathing. Down below, still hidden by the skirt I could feel my pussy starting to leak fluids again, coating my inner thighs and dripping down onto the back of the skirt where I was sitting on it. At this rate there was going to be a definite wet patch on the grey coloured carpet when I’d finished.

My hands moved to my tits once more, fingers curling around and pinching and squeezing the nipples. I wasn’t gentle with my own flesh either. Each time I tweaked them it brought a gasp of pain and arousal from my lips. Still I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen in front of me.

 
One hand finally let go and drifted downwards across my stomach to the waistband of my skirt, while the other continued to maul my breast. When it reached its target I drew in a breath sharply, creating a hollow behind the waist band, just large enough to slide my hand through. Meanwhile my legs, still flat on the floor, moved as far apart as possible. My fingers began to comb through my pubic hair and I couldn’t suppress the very vocal moans of passion issuing from my mouth. I played with the soft hair, exploring where it was partly matted from the experiences earlier in the day, before slowly extending my hand down to cup my mound. My pussy slit gaped open, soaking wet, fluids everywhere. In an instant my entire hand was drenched; again a new experience. The moans were almost continuous now and I knew I wasn’t that far off the orgasm he’d instructed me to wrench from my own body.

The other hand now dipped down to the side clip on the wrap over skirt. It was the work of a moment to unclip it and lift one of the two layers of fabric off my thighs, halfway to exposing myself fully to the video camera. Swinging the fabric over and away to the other side, my hand naturally fell on the internal clip, which also came undone with a deft flick of the fingers. The skirt on that side slithered to the floor, exposing my whole flank to the camera. I watched entranced as my own hand, almost without conscious control, daintily picked up the last vestige of modesty, the final panel of the skirt and began to lift it. A couple of heartbeats later the job was complete, the skirt lay open on the floor underneath of me, my whole body exposed to the camera.

I almost came right there and then but the view on the screen began to change. The camera obviously had a remote control and Mister Chisholm was slowly zooming the camera onto my loins. By now my breath came in short pants, incoherent moans sounding louder and louder as my fingers worked feverishly on my pussy. My thumb alternately pressed and then circled my clit. The two outer fingers spread my pussy lips wide open and the other two thrust in and out. At the same time the two penetrating fingers twisted and turned deep inside my pussy on every stroke. It was impossible for me to keep still, each thrust of my own fingers bringing my churning hips clear of the ground as I used my free hand to support myself.

“I’m cumming!”

A moment later I did, my eyes still fixed and watching the petite, blonde twenty-something woman, me, dressed in the ruins of a school uniform, masturbating in front of herself.