Loading...What made her pause in front of the lipstick in the first place? LIDL was not famous for its make-up but for cut-price Continental brands that her children usually refused to eat. Although she always wore lipstick, she favoured a soft pink that enhanced her natural lip colour, not this flamboyant scarlet. You never did know what you’d find in LIDL from week to week. It was part of the fun.
One week it was baby buggies and plastic sunbeds, the next week cheapo computers and shooting-sticks – did anyone still buy shooting-sticks? LIDL evidently thought they did, piled them high and they all seemed to sell, if only to people who thought they’d better buy them while they saw them as they were so cheap and anyway, you never knew when a shooting-stick might come in handy and then when you DID want one, you’d not be able to find one for love nor money… Jenny enjoyed shopping here. It was cheap and an adventure. Perhaps it was this adventurous spirit, plus the fact that the lipstick, although packaged luxuriously in a sleek gold case, was only ninety-nine pence, that made her pause in front of it, then reach out her hand tentatively, still undecided, yet curiously drawn.
‘Slut’
Jenny’s cheeks flamed scarlet and she jumped, looking around her nervously. But there was nobody there. And if there HAD been anybody there, well, who’d have dared to address her thus in public? All she was doing was looking at a display of lipstick… Jenny calmed, shaking her head in amusement at herself. It must have been her imagination. She smoothed her skirt slightly self-consciously and then reached out for the lipstick again.
‘You SLUT.’
It was unmistakable! Not a nasty voice… rather it sounded approving! Someone was calling her a slut but seemed to think that was a good thing to be, someone she couldn’t see, someone who was watching her… She must be going crazy, it was impossible. How could anyone know what she was like anyway, all because of… well, what? Because she was looking at lipstick? Ridiculous. Before her the display of golden tubes shimmered slightly, glowing and pulsing, an effect that had nothing to do with the flat fluorescent tube lighting in the store. ‘Dream Red’ it said on the packaging. Dream Red…….
Jenny felt an unusual sensation as the blush that had begun in her cheeks spread through her body. Someone was watching her, someone was looking at her, looking inside her, and telling her something about herself she had barely dared imagine until now. Her vision blurred as the blush warmed and loosened her, invading her body and sending a quiver through her insides. Once more she reached for the lipstick. This time she dared to pick up one of the golden cylinders, fatter than her usual lipsticks, retro in styling, something Fifties both in the packaging and in the lurid, shameless scarlet.
‘Good slut’ said the voice again, with an unmistakable tone of approval.
Mesmerised, unbelieving yet somehow under the spell of the seductive voice, Jenny dropped the lipstick into her basket. She moved to the checkout in a dream. Dream Red…
For the first time in ages she became aware of her cunt. Something about the curious episode in the supermarket had turned her on, and she could feel that she was wet and that her cunt felt open and empty. It was so long since she’d felt any sort of sexual stirring. Since the birth of her second child she’d been totally switched off. Her husband had been understanding at first, then angry, finally resigned. It was a long time since he’d made any overtures to her in bed and Jenny had told herself that was the way she wanted it. When she and Dan had first got together they’d fucked all the time, spent whole weekends in bed, but somehow that had all changed when the children had come along. After Thomas had been born, they had got some sort of sex life going again but it had never been the same as before, and when Louis was born, Jenny just hadn’t wanted to get back to the interrupted, rushed apology for sex that their lovemaking had turned into. And of course whole weekends of sex were entirely out of the question – the kids came first. Now the kids seemed to have substituted themselves for sex, but Jenny told herself that it was the same for all married couples with young children. There’d be time to get back to sex later, when the boys were older. Meanwhile she found she didn’t really miss it. She was far too busy. Till now…
Back home, Jenny unpacked her shopping, filled with an unusual sense of urgency. She knew what she wanted to do. She couldn’t wait to go and try on the lipstick she had bought. There was time before she had to go and pick up the children. Her heart beating fast and her blood pulsing in her veins, Jenny took the bathroom things she had bought upstairs and the lipstick with them. Standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, Jenny took the top off the lipstick and twisted up the waxy stick of colour. She couldn’t help thinking it looked like a thrusting little cock… She blushed again, shocked at her own thoughts. It was only a lipstick for heaven’s sake…
It looked even more scarlet than she had imagined. It smelt… she lifted it so she could smell better. It had an old-fashioned perfumed smell about it that reminded her of her grandmother, a woman who had been a beautiful girl and who had continued to apply her maquillage daily until her death at the respectable age of eighty-four, although by all accounts her life had been anything BUT respectable – as witnessed by the surprising number of spry elderly gentlemen who turned up at her funeral. When she was a child, Jenny had always associated her grandmother with a particular smell of powder and paint and this lipstick could have come straight out of her grandmother’s make-up cabinet, a box of delights that Jenny had, on special occasions, been allowed to sort through and play with if she had been very good.
Carefully now she applied it to her mouth. Or at least that was her intention. Somehow, as she drew the smooth stick over her lips, she found herself drawing a larger, more exaggerated mouth than usual.
‘Slut….’
This time it was an intimate whisper in her ear, yet if anything even more shocking than it had been in the supermarket. Jenny stared at herself in the mirror, willing her heart to stop racing. Then she lifted the lipstick to her lips once more, going over the contours of her lips, creaming on more of the bright red waxy stuff, over and around her lipline till, panting and hot with unfamiliar emotions, she stopped and looked at the painted whore in the mirror.
‘Beautiful slut’ said the voice.
Jenny put down the lipstick. Her cunt was sopping. As she looked at her reflection her fingers slipped over her cotton dress, feeling for and caressing her swollen clitoris. Her breathing came faster and she could feel the sweat breaking out on her forehead. She undid the buttons that ran down the front of her dress and shrugged herself out of it, standing before her looking-glass in her white cotton knickers and simple everyday bra. She watched herself slide her fingers under the knickers, pleasuring herself and watching herself. The watching added to the pleasure and the voice in her ear, the unseen watcher, added even more.
‘Take off your bra, slut’ said her admirer.
Jenny reached behind and unhooked her bra. She dropped it on the floor and knowing what she had to do, reached for the lipstick once more.
‘Ohhhhh yes, slut’ breathed the voice, as she lifted one breast and began painting the nipple scarlet. She moaned as she did this, feeling utterly wanton and shameless, painting scarlet markers on her body to advertise her sex and her availability. As she painted around her nipples she exaggerated her areolas, making her nipples seem larger than life.
‘Now your knickers, cunt’ the voice purred.
As if in a dream, Jenny pulled her knickers down and stepped out of them. Taking up the lipstick once more, she bent over, spreading her legs, and applying the waxy stick to her hot, wet and aching slit. Her cunt was too wet for much of the lipstick to adhere until she reached her clit, which she circled again and again, wanking herself with the lipstick as the voice urged her on. In a frenzy Jenny rubbed her clit with the lipstick until suddenly shudders broke out all over her body and crying out, squeezing her thighs together convulsively, she came.
‘You are SUCH a slut’ said the voice knowingly as Jenny sank down onto the carpet on top of the heap of her discarded clothes, curled up into a ball and hugged her knees to her tartily-painted chest. What on earth was happening to her, what was she doing? And how had she forgotten how good it felt to cum?
Later, Jenny had dressed, not bothering to wash off the evidence of her sluttish behaviour. Somehow, knowing how she was painted beneath her demure cotton dress gave her a secret thrill. She remembered the voice and the way it had told her she was beautiful. All right, not just beautiful but a beautiful slut. Well maybe she was. Whatever the reason, she felt more alive today than the had for weeks, months , years. And all because of a 99p lipstick…
That night before bed, however, Jenny had tried to wash the lipstick off her body and then she found what a truly old-fashioned product it was. It didn’t respond to soap and water and Jenny had to scrub at it with several goes of cotton-wool and cleansing cream. Even then her nipples and mouth still looked rouged and inviting. Maybe Dan would notice – but probably not. He never noticed anything she wore or did these days, and Jenny acknowledged that on the whole that was her fault. Lying beside him in bed that night, for the first time in years Jenny hoped he might take notice. Knowing her nipples were still reddened, slightly, and remembering what she had done to herself earlier that day brought the juices rushing back to her cunt. But Dan just gave her his usual perfunctory goodnight kiss and rolled over onto his side away from her. Jenny slipped a hand between her legs for comfort and fell asleep at last, with the sibilant whisper of ‘slut’ still caressing her mind.
When Jenny got home from dropping the boys off at school the next morning, she went immediately up to her bedroom and took her Dream Red out of her bedside cabinet. Already the lipstick was worn down, no longer the perfect cock-shaped cylinder it had been before she had lavished so much of it on her lips and on her body. She took a deep breath and began painting her mouth, the same exaggerated bow she had found herself making the day before.
‘Good morning, slut’ said her invisible companion. Jenny smiled. ‘Good morning, Sir’ she replied.
‘Take off your clothes, slut’ he commanded her. Jenny complied with eagerness, almost falling over herself in an effort to get naked for him as soon as possible. ‘Now paint yourself, whore’ he ordered.
As before, Jenny painted her nipples, labia and clit. She paid attention to her clit, loving the sensation as the lipstick stimulated that most sensitive organ.
‘Enough, slut’ he said. ‘Put on your dress.’
Jenny reached for her bra only to be stopped in her tracks.
‘No bra and no knickers, slut. Just the dress’ he said.
As it was a hot June day Jenny had chosen a thin white dress that morning with a semi-fitted top and a flared skirt. The dress had a thicker white satin stripe woven in but was so lightweight that it was semi-transparent. Jenny’s full breasts pressed against the fabric and her scarlet nipples and the red gash of her sex showed through clearly and provocatively.
‘I can’t go out like this!’ she exclaimed, scandalised at her own appearance.
‘Oh yes you can, my slut’ he told her. ‘And you’ll love every minute of it.’
Jenny felt the blush once more invade her body, the heat of it mantling her cheeks and spreading down her chest towards her painted nipples. Her head dropped, her curtain of blonde hair falling forward to hide her red cheeks. ‘Where am I to go, Sir?’ she asked.
‘You need some new underwear’ he said. ‘Something that befits my whore. Something more appropriate than this schoolgirl stuff you wear.’
Jenny knew immediately what she needed to buy and where she needed to go. She slipped on her sandals, grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. The strap crossed diagonally over her body, separating her breasts. She looked down at herself, at the way the thin white fabric stretched tautly over her painted flesh. Oh no… she could see that the lipstick had already stained the white dress, there were unmistakable reddish circles over her nipples. As she looked down at her breasts, her nipples hardened and pressed even more audaciously through the thin fabric. Jenny’s lips, painted widely with the same whorish scarlet, curved into a smile. A secret sensation of shame and yet lust flooded her body. Could she really go out like this? Yes…. she wanted to… needed to…
She got the train into the city, it was only a short journey. All the same the carriage was uncomfortably warm. Funny how in winter the trains were always freezing but on a beautiful summer’s day like this one the heaters were on full blast. Jenny felt her once crisp cotton dress grow limp and damp with her sweat. She could feel it clinging to her naked body, knew it was getting ever more transparent, that her reddened nipples were blazing through the bodice and that when she stood up, doubtless there’d be red stains too on the skirt from her lavishly-painted cunt. Men scrutinised her, some furtively from behind their newspapers, some blatantly eyeing her body. She didn’t care – she felt invincible. In some way their stares excited her. No man had looked at her for years. For so long she’d been a housewife and mother, harassed, taking no trouble with her appearance really… and she’d lost all sense of herself as a sexual being. She’d felt invisible. But now all she felt herself to be, at this moment, was the pure essence of sex, she was a rouged pair of nipples and a garishly-painted cunt. She was flaunting her body, advertising herself. She knew herself to be beautiful – had he not told her so? – with her blonde hair, full breasts, red mouth, white dress… a dream come true for most men. As the train joggled along, her breasts bouncing rhythmically and every man’s eyes now fastened hungrily upon her body, Jenny became lost in her thoughts, almost unaware of the stares she was attracting, her mind on sexy underwear to clothe and display herself in.
Once arrived, she headed for the sex shop she’d passed before on her way to the craft shops at the Corn Exchange. There wasn’t a place like that in her home town and if there had been, well, it would have been risky…. But here in the city she felt safely anonymous. She entered the shop and paused, looking about her. Several men browsed long waist-high shelves stacked with magazines and videos. She was sure there’d been some talking that had stilled as she came in. A female shop-assistant lounged by the till, studying her nails, obviously fake and fabulously long, adorned with sparkly little gems. Towards the back of the shop Jenny saw a rack of clothing and without looking at anything else, though vaguely aware of shelves of toys, dildos and lubricants, she headed straight for that.
At first she was disappointed. The goods seemed so tacky and poorly-made. There were outfits – schoolgirl, nurse, French maid – all the usual – and strange garments composed of studded leather straps. There were peep-hole bras adorned with really poor-quality lace in hideous colours, and split-crotch knickers in leopard-printed nylon. but as she searched through the rack, finally she found what she had been looking for – a corset. It looked well-made, with a proper busk front, metal suspenders, and it laced up the back, with two sets of laces that met at the waist. It was made of shiny black PVC and Jenny just knew that this was the thing he wanted her to wear for him. It looked perfect, with a front that looked as though it would cover the lower part of her breasts but leave her nipples exposed. She needed to be exposed… She hardly needed to look at the waist size to know it was the correct one. But she did want to try it on.
Taking it from the rack, she walked back up the length of the store to where the sales assistant still contemplated her expensive manicure. Men watched her, covertly, turning their attention from the magazines and taking in every detail, her voluptuous body, clearly naked under the flimsy dress, the stains, her hard red nipples…
‘Could you help me try this on?’ Jenny asked. The woman turned towards her and looked her up and down.
‘Sure’ she said. ‘Ever worn a corset before?’
‘No’, said Jenny. ‘I want one but I need you to show me how I’d put it on when I’m on my own.’
The woman came out from behind the counter and took the corset from Jenny, walking with her towards the back of the store. She showed her a changing cubicle, rather small, with a pink curtain closing it off from the shop.
‘You’ll need to take your dress off and while you do that I’ll slacken off the laces’ she said.
It took only seconds for Jenny to divest herself of her dress and then she had to stand there, totally naked, while the salesgirl took what seemed like forever to do whatever she had to do to the corset to ready it for trying. Finally she popped her head round the curtain and asked if Jenny was ready. At the sight of the naked girl she didn’t even raise an eyebrow.
As the salesgirl wrapped the unhooked corset around jenny’s body, she told her that usually she should wear some close-fitting, smooth undergarment. Jenny nodded her head but wasn’t really taking in all the information the woman was giving her. Although she had seemed very bored while sitting at the till, she had become quite animated now, and her fingers moved deftly about Jenny’s body, despite the length of her nails, as she hooked up the busk. It felt strange to have another woman’s fingers on her body, lifting her breasts to adjust their position, stroking her skin in a way which sent little shivers up and down her spine. Even at this stage Jenny had to breathe in and once the corset was fully-hooked she already felt slightly constricted.
‘I’ve adjusted the lacing for you’ the woman said. ‘Reach behind you and you’ll feel long loops hanging down – that’s right’. Jenny had reached behind and found the loops. ‘Now all you do is pull’ said the woman. ‘Easy does it – keep going….’
As Jenny pulled in the laces she could feel the corset’s embrace tighten about her. She breathed more shallowly as slowly but surely as she pulled on the laces, the corset tightened its grip. Her breasts rose, spilling over the top of the shiny pvc, her red nipples fully on show. Her waist felt smaller, squeezed tight and Jenny loved the feeling.
‘You can do better than that’ said the salesgirl. ‘Breathe out’.
As Jenny let all the breath out of her body the salesgirl pulled hard on the laces, constricting Jenny’s waist another half inch. Triumphantly she tied the laces off and stood back. Jenny felt the rigid, comforting, constricting embrace of the steel bones inside the PVC and took tiny, fast breaths which were all she could now manage, her breasts trembling, rising and falling in an exaggerrated fashion, with every intake of air.
‘I want to see myself’ she whispered, her voice as constricted as her body.
‘Sure you do’ the salesgirl said, a smile in her voice. ‘Follow me, honey’…
Jenny hesitated a moment. Apart from the corset she was naked, her nipples and clit adorned with rouge, and the salesgirl was proposing she walk out of the cubicle, through the shop which contained several strange men?! But………they WERE strange, they had no idea who she was, so what was the harm? Hesitantly she took her purse from the peg on the cubicle wall.
‘Slut’ whispered the voice in her ear. ‘Go on, slut!’
And Jenny took what should have been a deep breath but because of the corset constricting her lungs was a strangled gasp – and followed the woman through a door in the back of the shop. She felt her cheeks flaming red as she walked proudly, eyes on the woman in front of her. down a narrow passage way which ended with a door in front of her and one on either side. The woman opened the middle door and ushered her in. It was a small room lined with mirrors – a hexagonal box of a room, with slots in the walls at various heights. Jenny could see reflections of herself from every angle as she stepped into the middle of the small space. Instinctively she held herself taller, becoming more graceful as she viewed her many reflections, stunned at the sight of the blonde woman in the shiny black PVC whose figure was exaggeratedly feminine, large round breasts spilling provocatively over the corset which pulled her in at the middle to a waspish slenderness, below which her hips flared out in a sensuous curve, the dark triangle of pubic hair with its central slash of vivid scarlet mirroring the black triangle of her torso and the reddened nipples above. Jenny could feel cunt juice oozing from her painted slit and couldn’t resist giving herself a sly caress. Behind her she heard the salesgirl giving a low chuckle.
‘Like yourself, do you, darlin’?’ she asked. Jenny closed her eyes to shut out all the shaming reflections. Nothing she did in here would go unnoticed.
‘Yes…’ she murmured. Then, opening her eyes, ‘This is a strange sort of changing room! There’s nowhere to hang the clothes…’
The woman laughed louder this time, but not in an unpleasant way. ‘This is the honeypot, darlin’, and you could be Queen Bee…’
Jenny turned, flustered. ‘I don’t understand…’ she said.
The woman gestured at the room. ‘It’s a sort of stage really. Behind the walls are more little rooms and the men go in there and and they can see through the mirrors – one way, y’know – and they can……….’ she indicated the slots ‘………join in the performance……’
Jenny’s eyes widened and her cheeks flamed all over again. ‘Performance?’ she whispered. ‘There isn’t anyone watching us now is there?’
The woman laughed and patted her on the shoulder. ‘No, dear, don’t worry. We have a time-table and the first act isn’t till later. No-one’s there now.’ She cocked her head on one side and smiled at Jenny’s reflection from behind her. ‘The way you walked out of that cubicle though… the way you were dressed when you came into the shop… I reckon you’d like an audience… I reckon you’re a natural…’
‘Me…?’ Jenny murmured.
‘Think about it, honey…’ said the woman. ‘At the very least you’d make enough to pay for the corset.’
‘What, now?’ gasped Jenny.
‘No time like the present’ said the salesgirl. ‘There are customers out front – I have to be getting back to them – and I’d love to be able to tell them there’s a special amateur-night show for them to see…. particularly when you trailed your act just now…’
Jenny felt she had blushed so deeply she could hardly blush any more, yet felt the hot blood mount into her face yet again. At the same time she felt that unmistakable loosening in her cunt at the thought os showing herself off to those strangers again. And this time deliberately. And for money, like a whore…
‘Because you’re a slut’ said the voice in her ear. ‘SUCH a slut’ it added, approvingly.
‘All right!’ said Jenny, almost amazed to hear the words coming out of her mouth. ‘I’ll do it. Go and tell them…. though,’ she added, ‘I don’t know what they’ll expect…’
The woman smiled. ‘Just do whatever comes naturally’ she said. ‘I’ll put some music on… to get you in the mood….’
Jenny couldn’t believe what she’d done, but the woman had gone now and almost immediately the music started playing, some sexy, sleazy late-night number. The mirrored cubicle was lit with halogen spots set into the black ceiling. It could be any time of day in here – it felt like night, not like the middle of the day. Jenny moved lazily to the beat, not really dancing, just letting the music sway through her limbs like a tide, like she was seaweed as it ebbed and flowed. She couldn’t see what was happening behind the shiny mirrored surfaces in which she saw herself so many times over. How many men had chosen to take up their places behind those anonymous walls? It didn’t matter. The spots sparkled off the shiny PVC, reflections flashing and glittering as light bounced around the small space. The lipstick needed touching up, Jenny thought, and bent to retrieve the golden cylinder from her purse. There was a whistle from behind her and she realised that at least one man had just got a sensational view of her arse and reddened cunt. As she stood up she tossed her blonde hair back provocatively, enjoying the feeling of power. She moved to the beat of the music and the man or men were fixed on her, her slightest move. She loved the feeling this gave her and slowly took the top off the lipstick and swivelled up the waxy red stick. She noticed that already it was half used up. Usually a lipstick would last her for months but this one had seen some remarkably heavy use… Leaning forwards towards one of the walls, she reapplied the lipstick to her mouth. She deliberately flared out her hips, keeping her thighs well-parted so that whoever was watching from behind could see her glistening, open cunt, could probably smell her excitement.
Standing tall again and changing her position slightly, she redid her nipples, slowly, sensuously. The lipstick she had put on earlier had rubbed off against her dress and had smeared itself all over her tits so that the whole area was rosy red, but as she painted her nipples freshly, once more they stood out starkly scarlet, demanding attention, above the uncompromising black PVC of the tightly-laced corset. More appreciative whistles, and through the nearest slot in front of her, hands reached out. Whoever he was, he couldn’t quite reach. Jenny looked at the fingers that wanted to touch her and sashayed first away, backwards, then – she couldn’t help herself – back towards them once more, and this time she moved close enough so that the fingers could touch. Their grip as they closed around her nipples was unexpectedly hard, pinching, twisting. Jenny gasped, the pain was not what she had anticipated, and yet her cunt released a flood of moisture in response. The fingers pulled, relaxed, pulled some more, before releasing their hold. Jenny’s nipples throbbed with pain but were swollen stiff and somewhat to her surprise she felt she would rather like some more of the same rough treatment. But first….
She turned her back on the man who’d reached out to her, spreading her legs wide and leaning back as now she attempted to draw the lipstick once more the length of her cunt, to paint her labia and clit. She was far too wet for the lipstick to make much of an impact but looking at her reflection in the mirrors she made a pretty picture, her cheeks flushed, her hair in disarray, her nipples and breasts smeared all over with lipstick, her hand stroking her cunt with the chunky little red and gold wand. Seduced by the image of herself, Jenny rubbed the stick against her clit as she had done in the privacy of her bedroom. She could see her clit, prominent in its arousal, as it responded to the intimate stimulus afforded it by the lipstick. More hands reached out to her, from in front of her. She let the lipstick fall and stepped towards the new hands. These came through a slot at crotch level and as she placed her hands against the mirrored wall surface she felt a hard, thick, calloused finger trace the outline of her clit and then probe deeper, sliding back along the dripping line of her open cunt. Breathing shallowly and fast, Jenny found herself pressing her cunt down onto the finger, wanting it inside her gaping hole, wanting to be filled, wanting the men to see just what sort of shameless creature she was.
The finger teased her a little, withdrawing so that she pressed herself closer to the mirrored wall, flattening her breasts against it, pressing her cunt against the open slot in her need. Mercilessly the finger stayed at the margins of her cunt, drawing itself lightly along her labia, running just around her swollen clit so that she ground her hips helplessly against the glass in a frenzy of frustration before, finally, unerringly, deliciously, not just one but three of his fingers thrust deep into her cunt, fucking her hard as the other men presumably looked on. His thumb pressed down on her clit, tweaking it until, shaking, shuddering and groaning aloud, Jenny came in a juddering, thrashing explosion of pleasure. Sated, she slid down the wall to the floor. The music stopped and awareness returned in a hot wave of shame when she realised just what she had done.
It wasn’t long before the salesgirl reappeared. ‘Man, you really put on a show for those guys’ she said approvingly. ‘You got the corset anyway and if you ever feel like coming back for a repeat performance…’
Jenny picked herself up off the floor, retrieved her lipstick, stashed it in her purse and followed the woman back to the changing cubicle where she divested herself of the corset and put her limp rag of a dress back on. Now that she’d cum, her usual self reasserted itself and she didn’t relish the thought of the tedious journey home in her crumpled, soiled dress but there was no alternative. As she left the shop, the corset safely packed in a box but the box contained, unfortunately, in a carrier-bag emblazoned with ‘Adult Toyshop’ in big black letters on a puce background, she felt tired suddenly and with the let-down feeling of the aftermath of her adventure. At the time it had been wonderful but now all she wanted was to be home, to remove every last trace of the lipstick and to take a long relaxing bath to cleanse herself.
She stashed the corset at the back of her wardrobe and the lipstick stayed in her bedside cabinet after this adventure. By the time Jenny had got home she was worn out. The stares she’d received on the way home had not had the same energising effect as those at the start of her journey – she’d wanted to hide but there was nothing she could do, her body still shamelessly displayed itself, her breasts loosely swinging inside the now filthily-stained white dress, its bodice and skirt smeared obscenely with red. She felt it was obvious what she had been doing and in the wake of satiation came self-disgust. What had possessed her?
A couple of days later Jenny’s period had started and as a result she had managed to convince herself that the whole lipstick episode had been nothing more than an exceptionally strange bout of PMS. Yet as the days passed she remembered something of how she’d felt…. that excitement, that degree of arousal, her power over men, their approval of her, the way she had felt herself to be totally at ease in her body, revelling in all of which it was capable, the exquisite sensations it could enjoy. Even now chance images would flash into her mind at the oddest of times – the shop assistant’s fingers lifting her breasts into the corset, a stranger’s calloused finger teasing her clit, another’s hard, almost savage treatment of her nipples – and the hot blood would flush into her face and spread throughout her body, her cunt opening, softening, melting at the memories…. melting and needing, wanting more…
She went to her bedside cabinet and opened the drawer. The dull gold cylinder gleamed and her fingers reached out for it…
‘It’s been so long, slut…’
Jenny’s face flamed and she dropped the lipstick as if it had stung her. ‘You’re still here!’ she exclaimed. ‘What do you WANT of me?’
‘Be true to yourself, slut’ the voice replied. ‘You know you want it… need it… you’re a whore and you need to serve…’
Jenny’s eyes filled, to her horror, with tears. ‘I don’t KNOW what I want or need’ she muttered. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. Part of her, at least, knew exactly what it wanted. It wanted to be back in the honeypot, dressed like a tart, pressing herself against the walls so that she could be pleasured or abused at the hands of strangers. The man who had pinched her…. she wanted him to hurt her again. The man who had made her cum… she wanted his fingers in her cunt again. She wanted more. She thought of those slots. She knew what she wanted… Her eyes very bright, she picked up the lipstick again.
‘OK, I’ll do it’ she said.
This time she went back to the shop dressed in her usual clothes and underwear, mindful of the journey home, and not needing the extra stimulus of making the journey in exhibitionist mode. She would have all she wanted of that when she got to the shop. She took the corset with her, hoping the same girl would be there. She looked forward to feeling the soft caress of those taloned hands as they manipulated her body into the firm embrace of steel and plastic.
As she entered the shop for the second time, she looked about her at her likely group of admirers. There were half-a-dozen men in the shop and she hoped they’d all come to the show. The same assistant lounged as before at the till and gave her a broad smile of recognition which filled Jenny with confidence.
‘You’re back! That’s cool, honey’ said the girl. Jenny smiled at her.
‘You said I was a natural…’
The girl smiled and spread her hands. ‘It’s a gift you have, darlin’. Make the most of it…’
Jenny showed her the corset in the bag. ‘I felt… I wanted… well, if it’s OK, to have another go…’
‘Course it’s OK!’
The girl was already moving out from behind the counter. This time she announced in front of Jenny,
‘Guys, we have a live amateur show starting in five minutes…. take your places if you’re interested…’
The men in the shop watched as Jenny disappeared into the changing cubicle then turned as one and made their way to the corridor at the back of the shop.
The salesgirl helped Jenny as before, her fingers lingering lightly on her flesh. Jenny felt her nipples stiffening as the girl stroked them with her long false nails.
‘You’ve got great tits, hun’ the girl said.
‘Thanks’ Jenny replied, her words ending in a gasp as the laces pulled her in tight, pushing her breasts up and up till they spilled over the top of the corset. She got out the lipstick while the salesgirl went back into the shop and then returned with a pair of seamed black stockings. ‘Try these – or rather let me try them – there’s no way you’ll be able to bend enough now to put them on…’
The girl knelt at her feet and rolled the stockings ready for her. Jenny felt like a doll or a small child, obediently lifting first one foot and then the other and letting the salesgirl unroll the flimsy nylon over her toes, up her calves and then her thighs, the long-taloned fingers smoothing the wrinkles out against her skin, pulling the stockings higher and higher up Jenny’s thighs till the girl’s fingers brushed accidentally or more likely deliberately against Jenny’s pubic hair.
Jenny took a shallow breath as the fingers brushed lightly over her pubes. The sensation was deliciously erotic and already she felt her cunt responding. Deftly the woman hooked the stockings onto the suspenders as, shakily, Jenny continued to apply lipstick to her mouth. She couldn’t help herself from pushing her cunt towards the girl hoping for more attention and was quivering with anticipation when the girl said huskily ‘Here – give me the lipstick…’
Jenny complied and parted her thighs so that the girl could paint her clit and cunt. The girl stroked her mons gently and Jenny shivered with pleasure. Taking hold of her pubes the girl tugged lightly. ‘Ever thought of shaving these off?’
Jenny shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. ‘It’d look good…. not that it doesn’t look good now of course’ the girl said, her fingers stroking Jenny’s slit with the lipstick. Up and down, forward and back, the stubby little red cock of the lipstick probed the folds of Jenny’s labia while the girl teased her clit with one long hard sharp nail. Jenny moaned.
‘Don’t…. you’ll bring me off before I ever get out there…’
The girl laughed, a low chuckle, and reluctantly gave the lipstick back. ‘We could have such fun, you and I…’ she murmured into Jenny’s ear.
‘Maybe we will’ said Jenny recklessly. ‘But first…’ She rouged her nipples, which was harder to do now that they were stiffly erect. She made sure she got lipstick into all the little creases and stepped back. ‘How do I look?’
The other girl grinned. ‘Good enough to eat’ she said and licked her lips lasciviously. ‘Hang on – you need these…’ And diving once more out of the cubicle she returned with a pair of ludicrously high heels, black-patent slingbacks into which Jenny stepped, hesitantly.
‘Perfect, darlin’ said the other and led her down the corridor to the mirrored room. ‘Have fun…’
This time the music was already playing and as Jenny entered the cubicle she could hear a slow hand-clap – of course she had been far longer than the five minutes promised… But as soon as she made her entrance the slow clap stopped to be replaced by whistles and cheers. Jenny smiled and relaxed and felt her cunt almost explode with juices as her body remembered what it had felt like the last time she was in this place. The smell of cunt permeated the air and already hands were reaching to her from slots at all heights around the walls.
Taking her time she waltzed around the little room, caressing her body with her hands, presenting her breasts to one man, her arse to another, gradually widening her circle so that she got closer to the walls, closer and closer until she was within their reach…
This time every cubicle was occupied. Hands felt for her from every angle, grabbing and squeezing, passing her from hand to hand, man to man in a dizzying whirl about the room. She could see nothing of them but their hands, fingers that brushed her nipples lightly, other fingers that twisted them cruelly, still others that grabbed on to them tight and wouldn’t let go, even as her breasts were stretched and pulled and distorted. Even as she cried out with pain, she felt her cunt flooding with juice. She went back to that man more than once to savour his savage attentions. Her cunt came in for the same treatment; one man would barely touch it with reverence, another would boldly stick his fingers inside, and the mauler of her nipples drove his fingernails hard into her clit and almost twisted it off. She felt cunt juice sliding out of her body and in the mirrors she could see how strings of it were laced between her thighs. Held closely by his insane grip upon her clit she whispered to him, ‘Let me suck you…’ and felt his hands release her tortured body. She slid to her knees, waiting and almost at once his cock presented itself at mouth level through the same slit through which moments before his fingers had tortured her clit. She waited a moment, wanting all the men to see what she was about to do – and was aware of the increased noise as they apprehended what was happening. Taking the stranger’s cock in one hand she applied her reddened mouth to it hungrily, feeling at last like the total whore she knew herself to be as she took the velvety head of it into her mouth.
She sucked and licked, her body on fire, loving the feel of it in her mouth, loving the eyes of the other men watching her. It wasn’t long before he came, the hot spunk pulsing into her mouth and down her throat almost without touching the sides. As she let him go she became aware of the other cocks poking rather ludicrously through slots all around the room. Smiling almost drunkenly she crawled to the next slot and the next man’s cock…
The next thirty minutes or so passed in a blur as one after another she sucked off every cock presented to her, revelling in the utterly degraded way she was behaving. Delirious with lust, her face smeared with lipstick, sweat and cum, her blonde hair plastered to her head with sweat, unable to rise because of the heels and the corset, she crawled from one man to the next, offering them the use of her mouth and the sight of her almost naked body. By the time she came to the last cock – for all she knew it was the first man recovered and having another go, she’d lost count – she was almost past coming herself. But knowing he was the last – no more cocks poked hopefully at her from the mirrored walls – she slipped a hand between her thighs as she sucked him and pressed her fingers against her throbbing, swollen clit. By now her jaws were aching but still she ministered to him with enthusiasm and finesse, her tongue gliding up and down his shaft and teasing the piss hole in the tip before enveloping him in the warmth of her mouth. And as she sucked, her fingers pressed rhythmically against her clit and her body moved to its own increasing beat. As her orgasm grew, swelling and exploding suddenly, the man’s cock slipped from her lips but as she came, so did he, his jets of cum splattering against her cheeks and hair and dripping in globules off her nose and chin. Really it was the completely appropriate finishing touch. Jenny slumped on the ground in the aftermath of her own shattering orgasm with cum beading her hair and caking her mouth and cheek. She felt exhausted and barely heard the applause, whistles and stamped appreciation of the men whom she’d serviced that afternoon.
After a little while she picked herself up as best she could. She could hear footseps coming down the corridor and knew her new friend was coming to help her clean herself up and dress. She reached into her bag, her fingers curling around her lipstick. Withdrawing it, she pulled off the cap and twisted it up, wanting to see how much was left for next time. Shocked, she saw that there was only the tiniest stump of colour, barely enough for one final coat of her lips. As she lay there, sated and limp with exhaustion but feeling strangely upset – for if the lipstick were gone, how would her new-found life unfold? she heard, faintly, a sibilant whisper in the distance. ‘You’re on your own now, darling slut. You’ll be fine…’
‘Don’t go!’ cried Jenny. ‘Don’t leave me… not yet….’
The salesgirl entered the room and bent down solicitously over her, helping her to rise. ‘Who were you talking to?’ she asked.
‘No-one – I don’t know…’ said Jenny, embarrassed.
‘You were fan-fucking-tastic!’ said the girl. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never done anything like this before… except if you had I suppose you wouldn’t have shown quite so much enthusiasm…’
Jenny smiled. ‘It FELT fantastic’ she admitted. ‘I loved every minute of it…’
‘Slut’ came the whisper in her ear. ‘So long, slut. Don’t forget now… be yourself… it’s what you want and need…’
‘I won’t forget’ she answered, her eyes bright, beautiful despite her smudged mascara and the smears of lipstick and cum all over her face.
‘I don’t suppose you will’ smiled the salesgirl. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up now shall we?’
‘Sure… thanks…’ said Jenny.
But she was in a dream as the girl showed her into the little washroom and tenderly rinsed the evidence of her activities from her face and body. Passively she let herself be cleansed and dressed, her limbs as floppy as a doll’s. He’s gone… she thought. But it’s OK. I know what I am now and I know what I want and need. I’m a slut… a slut… a slut…
And her mouth curved in a distinctly naughty smile.