Bright Neon Disgrace Ch. 02

Today was looking like a massive bust. You had thought that the mall on a Sunday morning would be a good place to find some local talent. So you had slipped on the unassuming wrist brace, and driven there with a hard-on pressed against your thigh. However, an hour later, you sit outside the mall Starbucks bored and frustrated by how few potential candidates you've seen.

You're trying to decide whether it's worth doubling back and using one of your precious charges on that blonde sales associate, with the slightly upturned nose, who had been so bitchy as you wandered around Saks. You shake your head. She isn't worth it. You worked too hard on these things to just waste them. You sigh and get up to leave, which is precisely when she strolls by.

Woah. You can't help but stare. She is a petite smokeshow. Probably in her late 20's or early 30's, you guess. She has a thick tangle of black hair, which falls long and wavy down her back. Her skin is a golden tan. Her makeup is flawless. She wears red lip stick, black eye liner, a hint of dark eye shadow, and a touch of blush. Her dress is tight, short, and bright yellow. It stops around her mid-thigh. She wears leopard print heels on her tiny feet, and carries a bright pink purse on her shoulder.

She is not very curvy, which is usually your preference. Instead, she is tight and smooth and stunning. Everything she is wearing looks expensive. You notice a thin gold necklace around her neck, several matching bracelets on both wrists, some dangly pink sapphire earrings, and a very showy engagement ring on her left hand. You whistle softly to yourself. The phrase "slutty Spanish Barbie" leaps into her head. You grin and rise from your bistro table.

You stay pretty far back from her, as she goes up the escalator towards the second floor. You don't need to do much more scouting after all. You've seen enough to know she is it. Now it's just finding the right moment. Fortunately, the stores on the second floor can only be entered or exited through the mall. So you let her go into most places alone, while you pretend to shop at some other places. She keeps racking up brightly colored shopping bags, as she struts from store to store in her tight little dress.

Finally, she comes out of Victoria's Secret, turns to her left, and begins walking the mostly empty concourse towards the down escalator. She never looks back, and she completely fails to notice your humming, glowing wristband. Her leopard-print heels click-clack over the parapet floors. You take one last appreciative look at her tight ass in that snug yellow dress, before you fire away.

She is only five steps from the down escalator, when a small glowing orb the size of a tangerine, and the pale white color of a light bulb, whaps against the bare skin on the back of her left arm. A split second later, a matching orb smacks against the bare skin on the back of her right leg.

"Ughhh!" She sounds disgusted, and drops all of her bags in surprise. However, she doesn't even have time to turn around, before the fun begins.

The glowing milky orb that splatted against her left arm immediately springs into action. It slithers and snakes over her shoulder, and immediately wraps itself around her neck. Her big brown eyes go wide, and she instinctively grabs and pulls at it with both hands, to no avail. It tightens ever so slightly, and she opens her mouth a tiny bit.

For a few seconds, she has options. She could take a really deep breath, in case it tightens further. Or she could scream for help, in the hope of being rescued by some chivalrous man. Instead, like an obedient pet slut, she simply opens her mouth wider, and sticks out her tongue.

Immediately, the thing coiled around her neck accepts her invitation, and it plunges down her throat. She gags once, twice, three times, as she struggles to accommodate it. Her eyes tear at the corners. She tips her head all the way back to create a straighter passageway.

But the thing keeps growing. Bigger and thicker. She coughs and sputters. Her throat bulges. Drool pools in her mouth, and then it runs down her chin and neck. She feels used and helpless, and ridiculous, and utterly servile.

And then she remembers all at once that another orb had struck her right leg. She remembers because she can feel another warm, thick appendage slowly petting up against the tiny swatch of hot pink fabric covering her pussy.

"Mmmmphhhh." She lets out a long and deeply contented sigh, as the thing pushes her flimsy thong aside, and it slides directly inside of her.

Immediately, the glowing, throbbing tentacle slowly starts to grow, until it fills every inch of her tight cunt. She wobbles on her leopard-print heels, and her knees buckle slightly. She leans forward, and puts her hands on her knees, to steady herself.

As she does so, the hem of her tight little dress begins to creep upwards, revealing the lower half of her sweet ass.

Suddenly, a large pack of college students come churning off the adjacent up escalator. They let out a collective gasp. They nearly fall over each other, as they gawk at this bimbo bombshell, who is getting stuffed by some weird dildo glowstick-thing.

You laugh at her predicament, as they fan out around her, causing a good bit of commotion. You look around and see some curious store employees finally wandering over. A little crowd is forming. An audience for the show. You slip forward to get a front row spot.

She looks incredible and ridiculous and foolish and desperate, as she is fucked right there in public, in front of a bunch of strangers. Most of the college students openly point and laugh. Some others in the crowd shake their heads. A few people pretend to be concerned. But not a single person looks away.

She gives a long pleading whine. It's all she can manage with her throat still stuffed. Even still, her intention is unmistakable. It's a plea for help and empathy and privacy and discretion. Still no one steps forward. The thing still coiled around her neck tightens ever so slightly, and her whining slowly peters out.

Her tight little yellow dress finally gives way, as she is fucked more and more vigorously. Her dress slides all the way up, bunching around her narrow waist. She shudders and squirms, and fervently hopes that her fiancé never finds out about this whole ordeal.

Her well-tanned ass is on full display now, for the whole crowd. Along with her bright pink thong, which has been pushed to the side. And, of course, there's the sight of her shaved pussy, clamped tightly around that huge glowing thing, which just won't stop fucking her.

The crowd murmurs appreciatively. Her little friend had started out no bigger than her favorite vibrator, when it first began petting up against her wet twat. It was like her cute pet. Now though, it is longer than her forearm, and much thicker than her wrists. It feels like she is being fucked by a fire hose. Her pussy has stretched and stretched and stretched to accommodate it. The thing is a goddamn horny monster. She allowed it to come inside, and now it fucking owns her.

A thought dawns on her, as she tries not to cum. She is basically wearing a collar. She is being face-fucked with no regard for her thoughts or her opinions or her dignity. She is bent over with her ass out, and her pussy on display. She has become, for all intents and purposes, the cute little pet in this deeply embarrassing scenario.

She cums hard as the degrading reality of her situation hits her. She is a fuck pet. Collared and obedient and submissive. Her whole body shakes as she orgasms. The crowd laughs and cheers and derides her.

Her big brown doe-eyes are the size of saucers now. Her eye liner has run, and her lipstick is a bit smeared, due to the relentless, bullying throat-fucking that she has endured. Her once perfect make-up is a goddamn mess, as she continues to cum and leak and gag and droll and swallow.

Finally, mercifully, the tentacle lodged in her throat pulls out. The thing is coated in a thick layer of her droll, which it proceeds to wipe and smear over her pretty face. It uses her cheeks, and her forehead, and her chin, and every other part of her face, like a paper towel, leaving her messy and sticky and shiny.

Inexplicably, she smiles and spits and leans into it. The crowd notices, and any last vestiges of concern for her evaporate. "What a dumb bimbo fuck slut," they all conclude.

The monstrous tentacle pounding her pussy suddenly speeds up again, building towards a big finalé. She leans forward further, with her hands still planted on her knees for balance. Her head is down by her knees too. Her face is mostly obscured by her long black hair. Her beautiful ass sticks way up in the air.

She cums again, and again, and again, as she is aggressively fucked in her tight cunt. She pants and bleats and grunts, with each powerful thrust. "Ahh! Ahhh! Aghhhhh!" Her voice is high-pitched and extremely feminine, as she vocalizes her repeating, cascading orgasms.

It sounds like an inflection learned from a life spent seeking male approval. She sounds like a brainless bimbo. She looks like a smoking hot and humiliated slut. She continues acting like a dumb little loyal fuck pet.

She lifts her head back up, and her posture suddenly goes perfectly ramrod straight again, for the last time, as she feels the warm glowing tentacle plow even deeper into her pussy. She belts out a long high-pitched scream, as she cums like she's never cum before.

The sound echoes through the mall, and you imagine the shoppers on the more crowded first-floor looking up in wonder. Most of the crowd encircling her applauds and jeers and catcalls her. She is in ecstasy, and barely seems to notice anyone.

The massive glowing tentacle slowly begins to shrink and pull out of her exhausted pussy. There is a wet popping noise, as the rounded head fully dislodges itself. She is soaking, sopping wet. A river of her own juices pours down her legs and her thighs, leaving her shiny and reeking of well-fucked pussy. The big alpha tentacle continues to shrink, until it dissipates into nothing.

She is finally done being fucked. She is free again. And yet, she does not even have the presence of mind to yank her little yellow dress back down. It is still bunched way up around her narrow waist. Her pink thong is still askew as well. Her bare pussy continues to drip. Her make-up is still badly smeared, and her face is still coated in her own slobber.

She looks dazed and clueless and deeply satisfied and unsure of what to do next. She hopes for some further instruction. Thankfully, the smaller tendril is still coiled snuggly around her throat, like a glowing choker. It pulls her forward, like a puppy being led on a leash, towards the down escalator. She hesitates for just a second, but then steps on. As she does so, the thing around her throat evaporates too.

She looks back with those big, wide eyes at her shrinking audience, as the down escalator whisks her away. She is an absolute fucking mess, but she still does nothing to make herself more presentable to the big crowd of shoppers on the first floor.

She touches two fingers lightly to her drooling pussy, as she waits to step off the escalator. Maybe someone on the first floor can help her. She feels pretty confident that someone will step forward to tell her what to do.