The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions (46 page)

I asked her to take her coat off and she objected, but even though it was just me and her she knew there wasn’t much chance of not doing what I wanted. It helps, I know, that I am tall and
look intimidating under my somewhat stern hairstyle. Carol undid her coat and sure enough she was wearing all three tops on top of each other. I told her we needed our property back and if she
cooperated I wouldn’t call the police this time.

Carol was glad to have a way out. She took off the three tops and put them on my desk. She was also wearing the two bras over her own and I told her I needed those returned too. She shed them
and looked embarrassed.

“Now,” I said, “I want the other thing you stole.”

Carol looked astonished. “What other stuff?” she asked blankly. “That’s all I took, honest.”

Funny how she used the word “honest” here, but I was not smiling. “We saw you on the closed circuit cameras.” I indicated the screens behind me, even if I didn’t
try to show the girl our images of her. “You went to the underwear section, right, where you took the two bras from?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“So I need the panties you took too.”

Carol objected, but I told her firmly if she wanted me to press charges I would do so happily, reminding her that it was possible there would be a custodial sentence for shoplifting. But all she
had to do to avoid more trouble was cooperate, hand over the panties and leave without ever coming back.

It usually takes a couple of minutes for them to realize that the best thing to do is not argue. Carol got to her feet, hiked up her skirt and took off the only pair of panties she was wearing.
“They’re not yours,” she scowled one last time and dropped them on my desk. White cotton knickers, with little hearts all over them. Cute, really, even if it wasn’t the sort
of thing we normally sold.

The young woman straightened herself, glared at me, and I showed her the door before asking one of my staff to escort her out of the building. By the time she had left the store I was sat back
at my desk with the cute knickers stretched over my head, the crotch against my nose, with my legs wide apart up on the desk and my hand between my legs. I played with myself furiously. I’d
already examined the panties as soon as I had closed the office door and seen the skid marks from her cunt and her arse, a few streaks that suggested the knickers had been on a while. Stains are
like gold to me.

The aroma from Carol’s pussy was perfect as I drank it in. I’d like to think she hadn’t changed the knickers in a couple of days as it was particularly rich. Mature, I call
it.

I slipped my fingers into my wet sex as I sat there, skirt dragged back clear of my crotch as I didn’t want to stain myself. I alternated fingering myself with stroking my clit, wallowing
in the deep aroma and the thrillingly intimate muskiness of another female against my nose. I started to feel myself heat up and played with myself more intensely, even flicking my tongue out and
straining it upwards to lick at the marked crotch, hoping to taste what I could smell.

I was also excited at the thought of Carol heading home without any knickers on. But then as I don’t wear knickers myself I know how open she would have felt. When I came, as I always did
like this, my senses were filled with the smell and even the taste of Carol’s pretty cunt, her lovely stained knickers smothering my face.

As I recovered I carefully removed the panties and put them in a plastic bag and sealed it, then put them in a special drawer in my desk. I have something like forty pairs of knickers in sealed
bags packed in the drawer, and most of them smell every bit as inviting as the day I got them from a shoplifter. As I always tell myself, there may be a week when we don’t catch a shoplifter
and it would never do to be without something delicious to sniff when the mood takes me.

Katherine, London

When I called Roberta and asked her to kidnap me, I was kidding. When she said, “OK – be a good girl and stay there,” and hung up, she wasn’t. I only
found that out later.

I met the curvy Roberta at a kinky sex party. I was very new to sex parties, and spent most of my time hiding by the wall. She was one of the liveliest women at the party, about thirty, with
freckles dancing across her cheeks and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. I remember her blond hair was pulled back, a tiny top hat balanced, precariously, on her head as she laughed and joked with
other partygoers. We exchanged a few words at the bar. I had meant to be witty, and probably instead sounded in awe as I complimented her outfit; still, she had exchanged numbers with me, and a
promise to get together sometime. I was excited as I tucked the number into my bra, as I was new to the area and glad to have made a friend. I watched her rounded ass as she walked away, imagined
what it must feel like to lick those creamy, thick thighs. I was infatuated.

The first time I met her husband was at a local dungeon. It was my birthday; they had given me a beautiful vintage purse and a spanking. I remember I noticed how sexy he was, also in his early
thirties, with a slightly pudgy stomach and a short brown goatee. I had recently discovered my attraction to rounded stomachs and hairy men, and David was an excellently presented example. He was
silly, too, I remember – I think it was a costume party we were at. He had dressed like a caveman to his wife’s sabre-toothed tiger; I had enjoyed her fangs.

Our paths had crossed once or twice afterwards and we meant to get together to hang out. It never quite worked out, there was always some event going on. We did spend time together, but always
at parties, in a whirl of faces and music that made it difficult to get to know each other.

But now, thanks to a random phone call, we were going to have dinner and chat at last. I remember how giddy I felt as I rushed around, putting on make-up and nicer clothes. I had been staying at
my grandmother’s house up in the hills. It had felt empty and dull for weeks since she was away on vacation. Alone in a dark house, I sat on the edge of the bed, purse in my hands, feeling
excited and silly like it was a high-school date. When the knock echoed through the house, I jumped up, then tried to walk to the door like I hadn’t been sitting and waiting.

I opened the door only to find two ski-masked people there, both in black. One was curvy, and had some tendrils of blond escaping out from under her hood, so I felt sure it was Roberta, and the
other had the vague proportions of her husband.

“Candygram,” they chorused, and entered the house, the door shutting behind them.

“Do you really want to be kidnapped?” the woman asked, and I sighed with relief as I recognized Roberta’s voice.

I thought for a moment, then nodded, shyly. I wouldn’t have been able to deny that my pussy was wet under my jeans, and kidnappings were a favourite fantasy of mine.

The other figure nodded. “OK,” he said. “We’re going to undress you and take you with us. You have a safe word, of course – it’s ‘red’. Use it if
you need to. Otherwise, just do as we say. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” I whispered, unable to believe this was really happening to me.

“Give me the house key so we can lock up,” Roberta said as she started to undress me, pulling off my shirt and jeans and stuffing them into a duffel bag. I handed it to her out of my
purse, which she also shoved into the bag. David blindfolded me, and I felt cool hands unclasping my bra and sliding off my underwear. Someone tied my hands together in front of me with something
soft. Then I felt something itchy around me … I recognized it was my wool cape, which they wrapped around my body, tugging the hood up over my head.

“Think that’ll work?” Roberta asked David. I didn’t know what they meant. Work for what?

“Yeah, if we’re careful,” he answered. “We should probably not have the ski masks on, in case we get stopped. I don’t want to try explaining this to
police.”

I giggled, feeling giddy. They pushed me along, opened the door and walked me into the night air. It was chilly, but not overly so. One of my kidnappers held me as the other locked the door to
the house. Gently, telling me when to step up, they got me up the stairs into the driveway. I heard a car door open, and hands encouraged me to crawl into the back seat, where I was buckled in. I
heard some more car doors open and shut, and the engine rev. We were in motion. But where were we going? I knew of a sex club in the city, but they wouldn’t let me in the way I was, naked and
bound!

It seemed like we were in the car for only a few minutes before it stopped. I heard the faint beep of a code being entered, and the car drove into an underground area, a parking lot, I thought
to myself. And then I panicked. Had they brought me to their apartment? Was I crazy for just letting these people I barely knew carry me off? Probably, but at this point I wanted to see what would
happen. And I had never been so wet as I was then. I prayed I wasn’t leaving a smear of come in their car.

I was helped out of the vehicle and into another elevator. I heard someone step out and call back, “Clear!” before we moved again. The jingle of keys, the clank of a bolt sliding
back, and I felt a rush of warm air that felt decadent against my skin. We were inside somewhere. I felt safe, in spite of the circumstances … I guess I’ve always enjoyed danger, and
this was just the right amount of danger to get my juices running. My cape was unclasped and removed, and I was led forwards again, acutely aware of my nudity and a dribble of wetness that had
begun to drip along my thigh. I was guided into a seat, my hands untied and rétied separately to something that felt like chains. My blindfold was removed, and I blinked, my eyes adjusting
to the light. I was in a bedroom, but not on the bed – no, I was attached to a sex swing that dangled next to the bed from a hook Roberta and David must struggle to hide from visitors. I saw
a closet overflowing with high-heeled boots and corsets, bits and pieces from costumes I had seen them in from time to time. There was a dresser with nipple clamps and rope scattered amongst
perfume bottles and pocket change. I knew I was in for an exciting night, and David attached some cuffs to my ankles as if to confirm it. He clipped the ankle cuffs to the swing, leaving me feeling
deliriously helpless and very, very exposed. There would be no hiding my arousal now.

Roberta appeared, now dressed only in a lacy black push-up bra and matching knickers, holding a ball gag in her hand. Her golden skin glittered slightly, her rounded tummy making her look like a
modern Venus. “May I?” she asked, kindly, and I nodded hard, feeling thankful for anything that would take the pressure to say something off. The ball slid between my lips, just big
enough to keep me from speaking but not so large I strained. Then, the double team act truly began, as she nibbled my neck and arms and David began to run his tongue along my slit. Her hands
stroked my inner thighs, making me twitch and sigh; David laced his fingers into hers, and together they traced spirals over my pussy. Roberta languidly put her hand, now damp with my secretions,
up to her lips and licked it clean. Her nails, I noticed, were clipped short and neat. I shuddered, feeling myself pulse with the desire to be used by my kidnappers.

David moved to my head and began to run his fingers through my hair, using them to push it aside. My neck exposed, he began to bite, gently at first, then harder, leaving a trail of bruises and
saliva in his wake. His beard tickled the tender skin, and he used it to rasp my neck as he nibbled and nipped. Roberta was putting her smooth fingertips to good use in my cunt. Her middle finger
slid in easily and curled gently to caress my G-spot. I moaned around the gag as she spit on my pink nub and rubbed her thumb on it, softly at first, then harder as I began to push my hips back
into her. The biting continued, little shocks of pain intensified and then soothed by the ministrations of Roberta. I felt myself close to orgasm, but not quite there – how could I tell them
I needed just a little bit more?

Green eyes met my pleading ones, and she smiled. “Bite her nipples,” she told David, and he used his tongue to find them. He bit, and I shuddered, my pussy convulsing around her hand
as I came hard.

“Your turn,” Roberta said to her husband with a smile, as she removed the ball gag. She let me lick her fingers clean of my juices.

“Let’s put her on the bed,” he said, and began to free my ankles.

She deftly untied my hands from the chain, leaving the worn hemp rope on them as she directed me, now somewhat shaky with the aftershocks, towards their bed.

“Should we tie her hands to the frame like a good old-fashioned bondage scene, or something else?” David asked.

“Oh, I think we can leave her hands untied for now – I’ll hold them down,” his wife replied with a wicked smile, grabbing my hair and using it to pull my face to hers. We
kissed, tentatively at first and then wildly. My thigh unconsciously moved between hers and pressed against her clit; the lace panties offered no real barrier. She pulled me away and, with a
handful of my hair, she picked up a glass of water and drank. “Would you like some water? Wouldn’t want to wear you out too fast!”

I nodded, and she opened my mouth and poured some water from her lips into my dry mouth. It was like I had never had water before. I swallowed greedily and opened my mouth for another. This time
she let me drink from the cup, before spanking my ass.

“Now, get on the bed like a good pet, all fours,” she ordered, and I complied. I positioned myself in the middle, unsure what was going to happen next but sure I was going to like
it.

David removed his clothes, exposing a hairy chest and a raging erection. I was surprised and excited by his lack of underwear. Roberta grabbed a tin from the nightstand and opened it to reveal a
variety of condoms; selecting a blue one from the bunch, she put the tin back and opened the condom wrapper. He crawled onto the bed and she rolled the condom onto his cock with her lips and
tongue, her eyes on his as she licked and sucked the condom into place. He groaned, watching his wife, her pussy and ass close to my face as she worked. I got a sudden urge to pull her panties
aside and let my tongue attack her pussy, but resisted. I didn’t want to be punished.