The Shopping Trip: Don’s View
By the time those three women were through with me in that garage, I no longer had any desire to be a slave. I had burns almost everywhere that I previously had hair and my muscles were cramped. In fact, my whole body was in agony, not the least was my poor abused testicles. But as they dragged me upstairs and put me in the bath I really did not have the will or energy to resist. I was just praying that when they saw how badly I was hurting that they would just let me go to bed and sleep until Monday morning. I had made up my mind, however, to put a stop to this nonsense.
After seeing Paul or Paula as his wife calls him, I knew that I would have to be a blithering idiot to allow myself to fall that low. And right now was the time to begin the rebellion. I must have fallen asleep in the tub because I did not even feel my wife reattach my chastity harness. I knew that was going to make my rebellion a little more difficult. I might be able to physically get the key from Sandy but with Jenny there to help her I probably would not stand much of a chance against the two of them. And what good would it do me to rebel if I was still stuck in chastity. Maybe, I could find a locksmith to remove the device, but was I willing to undergo the humiliation of explaining to him how I had got into the mess to begin with.
While I was pondering that, Sandy was handing me a pair of pantyhose and ordering me to put them on. Still unsure of what to do, I figured it was easier to obey than to argue and so with much effort and a lot of stretching I managed to get them rolled up my legs and pulled over my hips. And all the time I kept hearing the click of a camera shutter and I knew that all this was being saved for posterity.
When I had managed to completely get the stocking on, Sandy came to me and rolled the tops down below my waist. She then grabbed my cock cage and shoved it back between my legs and repositioned the hose around my waist. My cock was now painfully trapped between my legs. She then found my sheerest dress shirt and had me put it on followed by a pair of slacks that were clearly too short for me. She then handed me a pair of loafers and told me to put them on without socks. Realization then struck me that no matter where we went everyone would know that I was wearing nylons. My wife inspected me and said, “I think you need a little color.” She went to her dresser and returned with a tube of lipstick. She opened it and held it up so I could see. It was the brightest shade of red possible. And she ordered me to hold still as she painted my lips. I then looked into the mirror and was horrified to see that I looked like a total clown.
I said, “That is enough of this, I am through. Just leave me to hell alone while I get out of this ridiculous outfit.”
“Ok, if that is the way you want it. I have already uploaded about two-dozen pictures to my cloud. As soon as you start to undress or refuse to go with us, I will start sending them to everyone you know starting with your parents, brother, and sister. Then the next batch will go out to your place of work. I am sure your boss and your secretary will get a big kick out of the sissy you have become.”
Well, that caused me to hesitate. I was not sure exactly what pictures she had or how badly they portrayed me.
“Let’s just take a minute here,” I said. “Sandy, can we please talk in private?”
“Anything you want to say to me can be said in front of Jenny. So if you are going to all of a sudden become a man, let us both here you say it.”
“Look,” I started. “I have decided that I don’t want to do this anymore. So please let’s just stop and go back to how things were.”
“That is just too bad because I do not want to go back to how things were. You started this when you decided to visit all those female dominant websites. And then you continued it when you begged me to put you in chastity. And you cemented your fate when you got down on your knees and begged me to take you for my slave. And incidentally, all those conversations were digitally recorded. Now if it was just your little wiener trapped in a tube you might be able to joke your way out of it. But I bet your mother would really like to see the video of you eating your own cum out of my wet nasty slit. Or how about if I send her the one of you on your’ knees begging me to let you be my slave. God, I bet your brother would find that one interesting. Well, speak up is that what you want?”
“I just don’t want to be hurt anymore. I did not realize that you could be so cruel. I was ready to serve you in any way you wanted until you began to physically abuse me and allow others to cause me pain as well. Do you really want a slave that fears you, instead of loves you?”
“Right now I don’t give a damn whether you serve me out of fear or you serve me out of love as long as you do what the hell you are told” she spit at me. I haven’t invested all this time just to have you become a sniveling coward and quit. Now, are you going to obey me or should I start digging out email addresses?”
“I guess, I don’t have any choice,” I reluctantly said.
“Your damned right you don’t,” my wife stated with malice in her voice. “Get your ass out to the car and get in the back seat. “I don’t want to have to look at you until we are at the mall.”
Not figuring I had much choice I did what she instructed. We rode in silence, with my wife driving and Jenny riding shotgun. I tried my best to think of a way out, but for the life of me, no great plan would form inside my brain.
As we pulled into the mall parking lot and Sandy parked the car I had formed a plan. I would just refuse to get out of the car. If Sandy wanted to ruin my life, well she might as well do it now because I was not going to help her any further. So when my wife and Jenny got out of the car I just sat in the back seat. I saw them talking to each other and pointing in my direction. I imagined them getting madder and madder and waited for one of them to pull out their phones and start to send emails from the cloud. But that didn’t happen. Instead, my wife came up to my door and opened it and leaned into the car.
“Now, come on, quit being a stick in the mud. We are going to have fun today. I know you think things have been a little intense, and perhaps they have been, but we had fun yesterday and we can still have fun today. Besides, we are going to get something to eat at the food court. I know how you always enjoy that and frankly you must be starving. How bad could this be? And besides, there is practically no chance that you will run into anyone you know. Come on, pretty please.”
Well, I remembered an old saying about that time. It goes something like this, “The chances of running into someone you know at any given time is directly in proportion to the stupidity of the act you are performing.” I should have heeded that but Sandy seemed to be in such a good mood and I really did want to please her. Maybe she really had decided not to punish me anymore.
“If I do go with you, are you going to hurt me anymore, today?”
“I promise, I will not cause you any more physical pain today,” I swear she put a slight emphasis on physical.
“Just what does that mean, no more “physical pain”?” I asked.
“It means just what I said, no more hitting, slapping, kicking or burning. But you do know that you have to suffer a little humiliation. I have seen a lot more of your websites and I noticed that you have spent a lot of time on one called, “humiliated husbands.” You do want me to humiliate you don’t you?”
I hesitated, not wanting to give her any more ammunition to throw on the fire. But I really could not deny that if my cock was not in a metal tube, I would get hard thinking about my wife humiliating me. For the life of me, I have no idea why or how I became such a damn fool.
Sandy was smiling and holding out her hand, so I reached out and took it and jumped right back into the frying pan. “Just don’t get too carried away with the humiliation, I begged.”
“Oh, you know me I am the model of moderation. In fact, I bet if you looked up the word in the dictionary that you would find my picture there.”
“Yeah, I am more worried about where I am going to find my picture,” I said.
We entered the mall with my wife and Jenny in the lead and me walking a few steps behind them. They were chattering away about how much they were going to enjoy this shopping excursion and smiling and laughing. I almost wanted to join in with them, just three girlfriends out for the day. But just because I was wearing nylons and had my lips painted bright red did not make me a girl and as we walked a great many shoppers realized that as well. I heard comments like, “look at that freak” and “do you really think he is with those gorgeous women?” I just tried to keep my head down and not catch anyone’s eyes. I certainly did not want a confrontation of any kind.
Soon we got to the food court and all three of us ordered something to eat and drink. My wife then directed us to a table that was as close to the center of the eating area as possible. I looked around and saw many tables that would have been out of the way of traffic and out of the line of sight of the majority of patrons, but I knew that was not Sandy’s plan and I knew that no matter how much a fuss I made I was not going to change her mind. So I simply set my food down and drew up a chair. As I sat down I felt my pants legs draw up exposing even more of my nylon clad legs and my face burned with embarrassment.
I tried to avoid any eye contact with anyone in the area. I kept my eyes focused on my food and concentrated on eating.
Sandy and Jenny, on the other hand, were joking and bantering and their voices kept getting louder and louder and I knew that they were trying to draw attention to themselves or more specifically to me.
Well, we were almost finished eating and I had just about decided that no one really cared about my lipstick or my nylons when I heard a male voice address Sandy or perhaps Jenny. “Is he really wearing nylons?”
“Why yes, he is. Stand up slave and put your foot up here on the chair. Then pull up your pants leg and show him your hose. Come on, you know you do not want to displease me.”
And she put her hand under my arm and urged me to get up. I knew it was useless to object and so I put the best smile on my painted lips and followed her instructions. I had just pulled my pants leg up above my knee when I heard him loudly exclaim. “See, I told you, Henry. I told you he was wearing nylons. Come on over and take a look for yourself. This woman called him her slave so I am sure he won’t mind.”
And that started a stampede with all of the animals headed my way. I wanted to crawl under the table and die but of course, that was not one of the options at that time.
When Henry got to the table he asked, “Which one of you called him your slave?”
“I did,” announced Sandy. “Isn’t she adorable? Say hello to the nice people, Donna?”
“Hello, everyone,” I simply said.
Henry then asked my wife, “So why is he wearing nylons and why is his lips all painted up like that? Is he queer?”
Jenny was laughing out loud and I know that Sandy was doing everything she could to keep from cracking up. “Queer, you say? No, I don’t think so. Although he is a little strange if that is what you mean. I guess it would be queer for a man to want to go to the mall, put on a pair of pantyhose, paint his lips and then wear a pair of pants that he knew was so short that his nylons would be in full view. What do you think, Jenny, does that make Donna queer?”
Jenny was laughing so hard she could not even answer, but she did nod her head up and down rapidly to indicate consent.
I don’t know how long it took for that crowd to disperse but my face was redder than the lipstick I wore.
As we made our way, through the thinning crowd toward the main mall, my wife turned to me and said, “God I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did because my panties are so wet right now that I need to go into the ladies room and take them off. When I get back I will let you carry them for me if you like.”
She then looked at Jenny and asked if she wanted to go with her, then she added, “You don’t think he will run off with one of those men from the food court if we leave him here by himself do you?”
“I don’t know,” laughed Jenny. “He certainly seemed to be enjoying the attention back there. I guess we will just have to take that chance, though.”
They were gone for about 20 minutes and I truly wanted to run off somewhere but I knew that it would just get me in more trouble. I did have the need to urinate myself though so I made my way into the men’s room. I found an empty stall, pulled down my pants and then found out how difficult it is to pull down pantyhose far enough to sit down on the toilet seat, position your tube so it stays in the toilet and then put everything back together afterward. When I finally was able to accomplish all of that and exited the stall, a man approached me and said, “Faggot, are you sure you are in the right restroom? Maybe, I should take you back into that stall and wash your mouth off in the toilet. What do you say faggot?”
I would have been in real trouble if at that very moment three other men had not entered. They caused enough distraction so that I could sneak out without any more confrontation.
As I was passing the entrance to the ladies room, Sandy and Jenny were just emerging. Sandy said, “Oh good he did not run off with some sailor. I told you he loved me too much to ever leave me for someone else. Here, slave, I promised that you could hold onto my panties for me so here they are. They are a little wet but if you want to sniff them I bet they smell really good. You do want to sniff them don’t you?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to get arrested for being a pervert in front of children, so if it is all the same with you I will just wad them up and put them in my pocket.”
“Ok if you want to be a spoilsport but I am going to insist that you sniff them when we get back in the car. I don’t want you to miss out on all of that hot aroma. You are really going to like hand washing that pair.” And then she exclaimed, “Oh, Look, there is a Fredericks of Hollywood. We simply have to go in and get you some panties and bras of your own.”
And with that, she took my hand and I swear she skipped her way into the store. But instead of approaching a sales person, Sandy and Jenny went off on their own and were soon lost from my sight. Not having a clue, what I was supposed to do I just stood there and looked stupid. I don’t know how long I had been standing there when a sales girl who asked me if I was looking for anything specific approached me.
I looked down at my feet and tried to avoid her eyes and said, “I am not sure what I am looking for.”
“Don’t be shy,” she said. “A lot of men come in this store. Are you looking for something for your wife or girlfriend? And then she took a good look at my lips and looked down at my nylon-clad feet that were not in any way hidden and smiled. “No, I see now, you are looking for something for yourself, aren’t you? What can I help you to find? Are you looking for undergarments, sleepwear or hose?”
“My wife is in here somewhere. She is the one that wants me to get this stuff. I wish I could find her and let her tell you what exactly she wants me to buy.”
“Oh, so you are shopping for your wife?” she asked as she cocked her head slightly to the side to show she wasn’t buying that line.
“No, I am shopping because my wife insisted that I buy some lingerie for myself.”
“Oh, you mean so that you will stop wearing her stuff. I understand that completely. Do you know what size you wear?”
“No, I have never bought lingerie, before.”
“That is ok, I have a changing room over here. If you are not too shy, we can go in there and take some measurements.”
“I suppose if I must. Let’s get this over with.”
I followed her into the changing room and she immediately ordered me to take off my shirt and pants. I hesitated and asked, “Is that really necessary?”
“It is unless you plan to wear the garments on the outside of your clothing. Now stop being such a baby and take off your clothes. I know for a fact you are at the very least wearing nylons under your pants and even if you were totally naked I have seen naked men before.”
With no other option, I did as I was told. I guess I am getting to be the picture of submissiveness.
She then measured around my body directly over my nipples. She said, “I doubt that you really need a bra, but I imagine you will want one in any regards. I just want to make sure that it will fit because you cannot try on lingerie in the store or return them once you have left the store. Now let’s get your hip measurement and I might as well measure your legs for the hose.
When we came out of the fitting room Sandy and Jenny were both standing directly in front of the door. “Well, look at this Jenny. I turn my back for a moment and the little slut is sneaking around with the sales staff.
The sales girl broke out laughing and turned to my wife. I got the measurements you asked for, how many pairs of panties do you want him to have?”
Oh, help him to pick out half a dozen. He hand washes my stuff about three times a week and he can just add his things to the load, but I want him to have enough in case something unforeseen arises. He is going to be in panties from now on so he will not be able to fall back on his male stuff. And help him to pick out a couple of bras as well. I think he should have a black one and a red one. And get him some foam inserts so he will have a little shape. And of course, he is going to need a couple garter belts and enough stocking for a week. I want the stockings to be sheer black so they will show up well in case I want him to go out with loafers on.”
“Let’s go Donna we have some selections to make.” And then she turned back to my wife and asked, “By the way would you like him to wear one of the bras home? I think it would be nice if he had a nice bright red one on to match his lipstick.”
“Hmm, I like that idea but I would really like him to be able to show it off a little more. Why don’t you find him a nice see through blouse for him to wear? You can just throw that old shirt of his out.”
When we were finally done and I looked even more a fool that I did before, Sandy paid for the purchases and started to leave. Just as we were reaching the door I heard the sales girl call out to my wife. “Here, I want you to have my card. My private number is on the back. I really love how you like to humiliate your husband and if you ever need any ideas please give me a call. This whole session has turned my panties into a swamp.”
“Thank you for the card, I just may be in contact with you sometime in the future. I am thinking of hosting a few parties to show off my slave. He is such an exhibitionist and I like to make him happy. How do you think he will look in a French maid’s uniform?”
“I think he will look like a real ugly woman, but I would love to come. Just give me a call.”
“Let’s go, we still have to buy shoes.”
And off we went two happy women and a freak wearing a see-through blouse, a bright red bra, and pantyhose. What the hell, how much worse could the day get? I was about to find out.
It didn’t take Sandy long to find a payless store in the mall. She said, “Personally I wouldn’t buy my shoes here but I am sure we can find something that Donna will like. And besides what money we save on her heels, I can spend on myself later. I still need to find a pair of those pointy heeled boots.”
And when she said that I swore my testicles tried to climb up into my body.
This time, Sandy did not leave me, she simply took me up to the sales counter and told the clerk that I wanted to buy my first pair of high heels and asked her if she would measure my foot so we would know what size to buy.
“Certainly, madam, I would be glad to do that for you. I am sure that we will have something in his size. He seems to have quite a small foot.”
“Yes, he does,” Sandy, said, with a smile,” and you know what that means?”
“Yes, but they say size does not matter.”
“And they don’t know what they are talking about,” Sandy smirked. “Believe me, if I had it to do over, I would have picked a man with large feet. I would offer to show you just how small he is but I am afraid I have him all locked away. He has a bad masturbation problem so I had to find a way to stop him from playing with it.”
“Well, let’s get the little pervert measured. Come with me.” She then led me to a low stool and told me to sit down and take off my shoes. Then she used what they call a Bannock device to measure my feet. It only took a few seconds and she announced, “He is between a women’s 9 and a women’s 10. Most of our shoes come in half sizes so I would look for a 9 and ½. Of course, you will still want him to try them on and walk around the store in them. There is nothing worse than getting the wrong size in heels. And if this is his first pair, he is going to have enough trouble if the fit is perfect.
Sandy made me try on a half dozen pairs of heels before she finally selected a pair with spike 5-inch heels. She made me walk around the store in each pair and all the while other customers were making snide comments. I just tuned them out. What could you expect people to say about a man wearing a bright red bra and trying on women’s shoes? Hell, I was beginning to believe I was a faggot.
When she had made her selection she turned to me and said, “Would you like to wear your new shoes home, or would you rather we take them in the box?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” I replied. “But I think until I learn to navigate on them I probably should not be wearing them in public. Let’s just take them in the box.”
“Ok, but the only way you are going to learn to walk in them is to do it. But starting tomorrow night, you can do your chores wearing them. Once you have vacuumed a few rugs wearing heels, you will become an old pro.”
“I can hardly wait,” I replied.
We got in the car and again Jenny took the other front seat while my wife settled behind the wheel. I climbed in the back and we started for home. As we pulled out of the parking lot, my wife turned to Jenny. “Did you have as much fun as I did today?”
“Did I, I am stoked. I don’t think I have ever laughed that hard in my life. And I have to say; your slave was a great sport as well. I am almost ashamed that we put him through such hell before we left. But I am looking forward to seeing what else we can come up with. And don’t forget about next Saturday night. Why don’t we swing through a fast food place and get something to eat. It is too late to cook and I really need to get home and get ready for work tomorrow.”
“Sure there is a McDonalds just up ahead, do you want to go in and eat or go through the drive-through?”
“As much as I would like to humiliate Donna a little more, to save some time let’s go through the drive through and eat as we drive.”
“I guess you have a reprieve slave. But sometime this week I will get you all dressed up and you can take me out to a real restaurant. Won’t that be fun?”
“Yes, goddess, I can hardly wait.”