Authors: Lucy Salisbury
I ran.
Three large glasses of white wine later and I was wishing I hadn’t.
‘Oh, Lucinda, you are such a little coward.’
I’d said it aloud but nobody paid any attention to me. The pub had been crowded when I got there, so much so that I’d been forced to perch myself on the low brick wall that fronted the river, with one arm on the railings and one bottom cheek on the bricks. It was far from comfortable but I felt I deserved it, a punishment for being so pathetic. I’d held it in my hands, the perfect opportunity to get what I needed and I’d chickened out. He’d been huge, maybe six foot six, and solidly built as well. There was a good chance he had a cock to match, a massive pole of pale smooth flesh rising from a nest of gingery hair.
‘You little idiot!’
A couple at the table nearest to me glanced across. She looked concerned. He looked amused. I gave them a frosty look, something I’m told comes naturally to me, and got up. The place was busy to say the least, with used plates and empty glasses everywhere, but I still took mine back to the bar and thanked the girl who’d served me. Polite behaviour was a habit drummed into me across the years until it was instinctive.
I didn’t take the direct route back to the building, because it meant passing the depot and I couldn’t bear the thought that the man might still be there and I knew I still didn’t have the courage to ask for what I wanted, or even talk to him in the hope that he would take the lead. As I reached the top of the alley that led down to the pub, I could see straight down the road. He was still there, loading boxes into his van, two at a time, his massive shoulders working under his shirt.
‘Go on, Lucinda, you can do it!’
At that moment a second man appeared from beyond the van, older, balding and carrying a clipboard. I gave up. Evidently it wasn’t my evening. I crossed the road and started up an alley lined with little shops and restaurants, thinking all the while. He’d seen my cunt, a big rough man, a man like a Viking. That was another of my favourite fantasies, to be caught alone on a beach by Viking raiders. I’d imagine being picked up by the biggest of them, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, carried on board their longship, stripped, fucked.
That was how the big man ought to have handled me. One peep between my legs and the outcome would have been decided. He’d have reached down, lifted me with the same ease he handled the boxes he’d been loading and put me over his shoulder with my bum in the air. I’d have struggled, just for form’s sake, beating my fists on his back and telling him to put me down, calling him a beast and a bastard. His response would have been to flip up my dress and show off my knickerless bottom to the world, with my cunt showing between my thighs.
I’d have been dumped unceremoniously into the van, spread out on the floor with my legs apart. He’d have unzipped his boiler suit to pull out a truly massive set of balls and a monstrous cock, already half stiff. I’d have surrendered at the mere sight, taking him in my mouth as he straddled me. As I sucked he’d have pulled my dress up, taking my bra with it, to leave me spread naked beneath him in nothing but my bright-red heels and the dishevelled mess of my pretty clothes. Anybody who happened to pass would have been able to see, but I’d have kept my legs open, making a thoroughly rude show of myself.
When he was hard he’d have entered me, sliding easily in up my wet hole and making the show I was giving to the crowd now gathered in the street ruder still. My legs would be rolled up, my penetrated cunt stretched taut on the shaft of his massive cock as he pumped into me with his balls slapping between my well-spread bottom cheeks and the tight glistening hole of my anus exposed to the vulgar stares.
‘That would be so nice.’
This time there was nobody to hear me talking to myself. The light was beginning to fade and there were only a few people about, with most of the shops shut. One wasn’t, a curious-looking place with the single large window painted bright pink and decorated with a single word in gaudy gold paint – Harlot. It was a sex shop, the Pink Pussycat, and I found myself automatically quickening my step as I thought of dirty old men leering at pictures and videos of naked girls. Fifty yards on I stopped.
There was a café and I ordered a double espresso, sipping at the hot dark liquid as I pretended not to be looking at the door of the sex shop. An idea had occurred to me. I needed to make up for my cowardice. I even felt I needed to be punished in some shameful way. I badly needed to be naughty. What better way than forcing myself to go into the Pink Pussycat and purchase some embarrassing article?
I’d be safe, as long as nobody who knew me saw me go in or come out, and the chances had to be tiny. There was still a risk, but that was as exciting as it was frightening and it also stirred something rebellious within me. I had to do it.
‘Go on, Lucinda, you little coward. It’s the perfect punishment.’
It was, so horribly embarrassing that it would be sure to bring my already powerful arousal to the point at which I could no longer hold back. Maybe they’d have crotchless panties, cheaply made in scarlet nylon, the sort of tacky garment no decent woman would ever wear. I’d buy them, from an assistant who’d be trying to stifle his amusement and lust as he imagined me wearing them, my bottom no more than half covered by the hopelessly inadequate triangle of see-through red nylon at the back, the lips of my cunt peeping out from the slit at the front. He’d be some slick grubby-minded type, his head full of dirty thoughts as he eyed me up and down. Maybe he’d even proposition me, and I would turn him down, although the shame of it would be a wonderful addition to my punishment.
‘Go on, Lucinda, just do it.’
I swallowed my coffee, spent a moment blinking my eyes and gasping for breath as I struggled to cope with the near-scalding liquid, and got up. There was a cash machine directly across the road, so I couldn’t make excuses to myself about not using my card in the shop.
With the money in my bag I found the street empty for a hundred yards in either direction, so there was no way to back out by pretending I might be recognised either. It still took all my courage to walk those few short yards and push in through the door to the shop, but I did it.
‘Can I help you, miss?’
She was small, tattooed and pierced, with startling green and blue hair like the plumage of some exotic bird, and as far from the image of the lecherous male I’d been imagining as it was possible to be. I could no more buy tarty knickers from her than from my own mother. There was no shortage of them though, three large stands festooned with the things, in dozens of designs and several colours, each labelled: saucy scarlet, bitch black, virgin white. I glanced around, desperate to find something, anything that didn’t imply that I was after dirty, smutty sex.
‘We’ve got some great deals on sex aids.’
‘Oh.’
I walked across to the glass-fronted cabinet she was indicating. It seemed rude not to. Inside were some of the most grotesque objects I had ever seen, great bulky monstrosities made of hard black rubber and so large it was impossible to imagine them having any relevance to the human form at all. A neatly written sign in front of the three nearest informed me that they were butt plugs: the Butch, which I couldn’t have got in my mouth, never mind up my bottom; the Bully, which would have made an elephant sit up and take notice; and the Bastard, which was quite simply insane. The names suggested they were designed for gay men, to my immense relief.
On the shelf below was a selection of vibrators, which were positively calming after the butt plugs. Most were ugly plastic things covered in embarrassing bumps and oddly shaped protrusions, but a few were stainless steel and really quite elegant, also reassuringly expensive. The assistant was looking at me hopefully and I realised I ought to say something, if only to find myself an excuse to leave.
‘Do these come with a warranty? The steel ones.’
‘Three years, but, believe me, they’ll last you a lifetime. Let me show you.’
I stepped back in alarm, not at all sure what she meant, although it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d been told to pull up my clothes to have a vibrator applied to my pussy. As it was, she merely unlocked the case, selected the largest of the stainless-steel ones, pushed the switch up to maximum and passed it to me. It was buzzing like a hive of angry bees and sent vibrations right up my arm, and further, making the muscles of my belly tighten. My reaction must have showed on my face, because she smiled and I found myself blushing hot as she took the vibrator back.
‘Good, isn’t it? But these are much cleverer. Just let me get it out of the harness.’
She ducked down to the lowest shelf, where there were several complicated harnesses made out of leather straps, each with a large dildo protruding from the front. I knew perfectly well what they were for, having had homemade versions used on me more than once, and found my blushes growing hotter still as she went on. ‘It’s a complete system; three sizes of vibrating dildo, harness, detachable cuffs, head harness and dildo gag, but you can buy the bits separately and the vibrators are the best. Here.’
She was holding it out to me, a vibrator made in the shape of a big black cock, very much like the one I imagined Morrison might have, complete with a pair of fat rubber balls. I took it, unable to control my shivering as my hand closed on the thick hard shaft, and then she turned it on. The vibrations were so strong I immediately let go and jumped back in surprise.
She laughed as she picked it up. ‘It gets people like that. Or there’s the thrust setting.’
An adjustment of the switch and the thing began to thrust in and out, a sight at once so obscene and so compelling that I found myself giggling nervously. I was going to have to buy it, because it was now going to be more embarrassing to make my excuses and leave than to go through with it, after the effort she’d made to be helpful. Besides, I desperately needed the awful thing applied to my cunt.
‘How much is it?’
‘Fifty-five, but it’s a much better deal if you buy the whole system. Do you …’
She trailed off, but I knew she was asking me if I went with other women. I nodded, biting my lip, and she was smiling. Before I could stop myself I’d spoken the thoughts in my head: ‘Do me.’
I sounded desperate, even to myself, but it had been a long time, too long. For one awful moment she didn’t respond and I thought she was going to turn me down, only for her to speak again as she hurried for the door.
‘Just quickly.’ She locked the door and turned the sign to closed, then hurried back, grinning. ‘Come on, in the back.’
I let her take my hand, numb with desire and with shame, the way I had been so many times before, willing but helpless. She was as bad as the rest of them, eager and dirty as she led me into a tiny storeroom that smelled of leather and sex. I let her kiss me, opening my mouth under hers after just an instant’s resistance but quickly as urgent as she was. She’d slid a hand up my dress, following the length of my thighs to the top and groping for panties that weren’t there. Her voice was a sigh as she broke away from my mouth. ‘No knickers, bad girl. We know what you want, don’t we? Let’s do it over the desk.’
She pushed me down, among the litter of paper and pens and coffee mugs on the desk, my bottom pushed out towards her. I looked back, in time to see her lick her lips as she lifted my dress to get me bare behind before she began to wriggle herself into the strap-on harness, talking all the while. ‘You’ve got such long legs, and such a little bum. I’m going to enjoy fucking you. What’s your name?’
‘Lu–Lucy.’
‘Juicy Lucy, like the rubber doll. Perfect. I’m Charlie.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Stick it out a bit more.’
I stuck it out as requested, lifting my bottom to her as she fixed the huge black dildo into place. She gave me a slap, full across my cheeks and hard enough to make me gasp as she went on. ‘You have such a pretty bottom. Even your bumhole’s pink.’
‘Thank you.’
She laughed, and put the head of the dildo to my cunt. I was soaking but it was still hard to take, stretching my pussy hole until I was open mouthed and gasping for breath. She’d got me, completely, bent over with my bottom stuck out and the fat black dildo pumping in my hole. My head was full of dirty thoughts, how I’d begged her for sex, how she’d told me off for not wearing any knickers, how she’d compared me to a rubber doll, how she’d slapped my bottom and told me I was pretty behind. All of it was exquisitely shameful, just the way I like it, and now I was being fucked over a desk in the rear of a back-street sex shop. Lost in ecstasy, I began to babble. ‘Harder, Charlie. Fuck me, fuck me harder. You can smack me too, if you want, anything … anything at all. I need it.’
‘What you need is this.’
As she spoke she turned the vibrator on and jammed herself as deep in as she could get, squashing the fat rubbery balls to my cunt. I screamed, taken to the edge of orgasm in an instant, and over, with my fists hammering on the desk top and my heels drumming on the floor as I came to the sound of Charlie’s happy laughter as she fucked me.
‘I am a dirty little bitch, aren’t I, Morrison?’
He answered with his usual accusing, superior stare, which made me feel even dirtier. I pushed down the sheets and spread my legs, enjoying my nudity and exposure as I thought of what I’d done the night before. It hadn’t been what I’d planned at all, but it had been extremely good. There was a tiny, niggling voice in the back of my head, telling me in a slightly despairing tone that I’d ended up having sex with another woman, again, but otherwise I was blissfully happy.
Charlie had handled me perfectly, not only taking control but humiliating me without even thinking about what she was doing. Then there had been the gloriously shame-filled moment of having to stay in position, with the dildo jammed up me as deep as it would go and the vibrator on full speed while she finished herself off by rubbing her cunt on the base. She’d been nice about it afterwards as well, which is always important, giving me a hug and a kiss before she opened up the shop again. Even the trip back to my flat had been exciting, with my guilty purchases concealed in a large plain bag, the full system, because after what she’d done to me I could hardly have gone for less.