Buying Bad Ch. 02

Part 2 - Jack's Style / The Boucher Racket

It hadn't taken Jack long to make use of his purchase. He was kind enough to walk her around the building to the dumpsters in the back. They were shared with a cafe and an ice cream shop, and the dumpsters themselves were painted a bright new green. A happy grass green. Penina didn't understand why they were here when Jack had said he wanted a coffee. Then she thought she would be making good on that blowjob here, in this filthy place, and as much as she wanted to say to him I have more dignity than this the truth is her whole body was on fire with a need for him. Or for something. And as gross as it was to be sucking on someone's dick while swatting flies away she knew that she would do it in a second if he asked. Or told.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth, little Pebble."

She would do him even better. She popped her candy lips open, her tongue flat until it left her mouth where it bent wickedly down her chin, shut her pastel eyelids and dropped with grace and fervor to her knees. The cement hurt but she was too concerned with how much spit was in her mouth to care. Jack laughed out loud.

He left her to wait a moment, on her knees by the trash, mouth agape like a gentleman's magazine discarded there on the pavement, flapping in the wind. And before she could start asking if he wanted her (perhaps playfully peak one eye open and act a little bratty for him) she felt something firm and claylike press onto her tongue. It was saltier than bacon grease. Jack's hand followed after, shutting her lips together with his palm. "Chew it. Chew it, baby."

God oh God

As solid as it was, somehow the thing in her mouth gave the sensation of melting, like a chocolate might. But there wasn't the slightest sweetness: it was savory and thick with wild, gamy flavors.

"It's not coming out, Pebble. You have to eat your treat. Most doggies find it encouraging!"

She couldn't muster even half the force needed to dislodge his hand from her mouth and each time she shook her head the treat rolled into her teeth and suddenly felt dusty and coarse. Neverthless her hands were around his wrist but they couldn't budge him in the slightest.

With tears of disgust and frustration in her big brown eyes she stared, begging, into his. But his were cruel and bright and told her what she would be doing.

She began to chew. Her molars squished and deformed it but couldn't break it. How is it this gummy when it's this hard? Each movement of her jaws brought more spit and more flavor washing across her tongue. She pushed the awful Salmon? Chicken? tidbit into her eye teeth and it began, mercifully, to break. The crumbs were smooth and rough at once, like play-do, and a strong taste of scrambled egg burst from the centre of the treat.

"This isn't just tasty, you know. It will keep your coat silky, and it says that these ingredients are organic, wow! What a lucky little doggy."

It went down in two swallows but she knew in the future Lord please not my future that she could get the bite-sized lump down in one swallow once chewed. Jack wrapped her hair behind her ear.

"Good girl!" he said.

She hated how good it made her feel to hear it. It cut through the taste of the dog treat to her limp wet dick and made her throb somewhere soft. But after that passed the wretched taste brought her back to herself.

"C-Can I have some wa--"

"Stand up."

He pulled her to her feet and cupped her chin. "I'm going to get a coffee. I'll see if they have any whipped cream for my poor doggy on this hot day, okay?"

The thought of that sugar in her mouth made her stomach churn. "N-No! Please, I'll, it will be my treat okay, Jack? And I'll just get, like, I'll just get some water. Please?"

His finger silenced that option. "I'll be the one giving treats here, little Pebble. Now I can't bring my doggy into the store, so I'll tie her up outside. I think you need to change."

She looked around, distressed. Not only was there no changing room around, there was nothing around. Just dumpsters and a fire hydrant.

He pulled the collar from the Doggie-Meow bag. "Do you want to wear this for me?"

Her nipples stiffened and she hoped that she was blushing. She felt like she was blushing. And she did, indeed, want to wear it for him. More than anything.

Those big browns glanced up at him again, and then back to the hard red leather in his hands.

"Yes." She whispered.

He smiled. He knew. "Good girl. Get undressed."

"What?"

Jack lay the collar over her shoulder. It was heavy, and would be all the heavier on her throat. He grinned like a wolf. "Dogs don't wear anything but their collars, dummy. It would be wrong if they did. So get undressed."

He ripped the collar off her shoulder and down her body. She flinched. The sense of leather moving fast made her heart beat wildly. It felt like being pinned to the ground, like being bitten by something unseen.

Penina swallowed.

"But," she said, her voice dreamy as if hypnotized. "But we're... we're just out here. Jack, anyone could... could see me."

"Nobody's gonna get bent out of shape to see a little piece of ass like you naked on a summer day," he said.

His hand palmed her breast with room to spare. Even feeling the weight of his hand on her chest was a convincing argument. "Besides you're going to have to get used to this. Once I buy you you'll be naked all the time, little slave-to-be."

"Would you really buy me?"

"A little thing like you? I hope they sell you by the pound. As soon as it's legal, babe."

Her breathing was hard and deep. She wanted him, desperately, to feel her breasts rise and fall against his fingers. She wanted to straddle him right there, feel his hard cock take her owned ass. A cock that was everything to her and just another orgasm for him.

"Are you really going to buy me?"

"Only if you start listening. You're going to earn this collar."

She wanted to straddle him, but she didn't want anyone to see. And yet, she wanted everyone to know. But out here, behind the stores, what were the odds anyone would stroll by? On a slow and lazy Sunday, where the only thing out back were the dumpsters and a litter of short city trees. See, bitch? It's even hidden from the road.

The romper unbuttoned down the front and her quivering fingers found each button. It opened and she pushed her chest forward. There was a lacey bra she loved and wished he was seeing her in now, but, trying to stay casual, she had chosen instead a sleek one that matched her panties but in a darker shade of blue. She picked a shaking leg through one yellow leg hole and then her second leg. Her little blue flowers were out to see the sun.

Jack snatched the romper and wound it up in his fist. "The rest. Now, if you want any water."

She peeked over her naked shoulder: parking lot, trees, streets down the way that lead to the highway. The boring austere backs of the tiny strip of shops. Nothing but sun and asphalt.

Her fingers had lost their confidence with the buttons and she fumbled with her bra. Normally taking it off in front of men and letting her tits swing out, seeing the predator leap up from their groin to their face, was a moment of victory and power for her. No matter what they did to her afterwards. But she had never been unclothed out in the world. No swimming or flashing, no sorority dares, no drunken club nights... In fact when she locked the changing rooms in clothing stores she would always test the door right after to be sure it worked. But here was Jack, all 6'6 of Jack, and his desire. And his desire was her desire. The bra slipped down her shoulders and the sun lapped warmly at her exposed breasts. Her breath fluttered like a bird fleeing madly from the smoking barrel of an old black oven. Here she was. She felt truly unchained.

All for a collar, girl...

The bra disappeared into the ball of clothes in his hand. He rolled his wrist impatiently. "Anyone watching knows you're a little slut now, babe, just get the rest off."

This was the flipside of hooking up. Wiggling her panties down her hips and letting them drop past her knees, down her smooth calves, and hit the floor. It was always a nervous moment. She generally kept tucked for the reveal. She liked them to see her cute little mound first: hairy or smooth, however she guessed they would like it. And then either she would bounce her hips askew and smile or more often than not her suitor for the night would spread her legs, hungry, feeling stronger than he ever had before. They would part her thighs like it was the first time anyone had thought to do it. Like they were the only man to ever want to see every scrap of her. Penina could remember the first man who did so, and he had indeed wanted to see her spread open and weak under his touch.

But if there was a fear of being seen like this, out amongst the public, it wasn't from her tits it was the porcelain bauble of her dick. More sensitive than rough hands would imagine, despite their personal experience, and seeming like a soft, loaded pistol to anyone that would hate her regardless of what she had there. No one might care about a piece of ass, but calls would be made on account of the other piece.

She looked over her shoulder again and covered her nipples with one of her arms. Jack grabbed her wrist and wrung it away.

"I'm not going to do this for you. But if you're not going to follow instructions I'm leaving." He shook her clothes in front of her. "With these."

Well, she thought, we're all going to be following some Master's instructions soon aren't we? Isn't that what everyone wants? Whatever happens, it's not my fault.

She smiled a beaming smile and let it sour into brattiness. "Okay, Master Jack."

She swung her hips around, twirling slowly, lazily, like how she might drag her tongue across the side of a lollipop. Her red tresses tickled across the bare flesh of her back. She glanced at him from over her shoulder. "Just to earn your collar?" She giggled. "Sir?"

The arch of her back was a triumph, as it always was. Her workout routine was embarrassingly focused on how she could make her body look during sex, and vertical or horizontal she could bend her back as long and easily as a cat could. She offered Jack a sharp oscillation of her ass. How does it jump when you spank me, SIR?

Her panties came down slow. The sky blue waistband strained to make it over her cheeks. Penina wanted him to see the strain and think of how tight her ass could make anything feel. And then they came back up. "Oh, maybe I should just walk home topless, though? It's actually so nice out, isn't it, Master?"

Jack's rebuke may or may not have been confident but it was very swift. She felt his fingers catch under the thin cotton at her hip and then she felt his grip clench, and his arm shot up like he were starting a chainsaw. She yelped. Her ball of clothes hit the ground with a thwap. His other hand grabbed where the fabric separated to run down her valley and, with one of her legs still raised in the air from the force of his pull, he shredded her underwear in one quick, vicious RIP

She swung loose from between her own legs. Even as her other foot hit the ground Jack grabbed her there, her soft hot knot, and squeezed. She was forced with a squeak onto her toes. Soon enough her yelping was cut off by his other hand squeezing around her throat.

"Bad dog," he hissed.

He dropped her to her feet but she was immediately pushed to her knees by a strong force bearing down between her shoulders. The pavement was still hot, still rough. Hotter on her palms. Jack forced her head up and straight by the whole of her hair, Penina whimpering all the while, and slapped the collar around her neck. It was as heavy as she imagined it. When it was fastened and her hair swung down like curtains on either side of her face, she couldn't believe she was collared. A moment later Jack clipped and snugged the black tether they bought to the o-ring on the back of her neck, and she was leashed, too.

"There we go," he said, huffing his broad chest.

He stepped back to look at her. She peeked up at him with wide eyes between the mussed halves of her hair. Her mouth stayed open a little and he liked seeing her small pink tongue in the same daylight as her puffy pink nipples. There was only one thing he didn't like.

Her shoes joined the pile of clothes he had taken from her. The ass that never failed to grab his attention received a flat, half-hard slap while he was down there. Just hard enough to make her jiggle. He wondered if the noise she made was a cry or a moan. He didn't really care.

Penina realized a little too late that when Jack started walking, Pebble started too. The leash tugged sharply at her throat and she scrambled after him on her hands and knees. She had been so aroused for so long she wondered if there was a little trail of wet black spots following after her. At minimum she was getting hard, each shift of her hips told her that.

"Jack?"

He didn't look at her. "It was Master Jack a second ago wasn't it?"

"Where are we going?"

She prayed it wouldn't be next to the dumpsters and the flies and the garbage that didn't quite make it over the rim. It is shady over there, though, that might be nice.

But that was a dog's way of thinking and she shook her head to dispel it. Her new accessories jingled around her neck.

Jack lead her past the dumpsters and the shade and to a spot just at the end of the alleyway between buildings. There was a power meter there, cordoned off by a simple fence made from thick green tubes welded into a square. The meter hummed a little, and she wondered if Jack could hear it from up where he was. You couldn't ignore it if you were debased on the ground.

He wrapped the leash around one of the polls and pulled it into a neat little knot.

"Pebble: stay." He laughed. "Don't you move a muscle, babe."

On the other side of the alley he placed her clothes and shoes. "This will be like leaving a steak on the table for a bitch like you, won't it?"

He laughed and left for the cafe.

What does a dog do when its master leaves it? What would a slave do?

She tried sitting in a way that looked as obedient as she could manage. Kneeling, she eased back and squished her butt onto the hot concrete. It felt bad, and she loved it. Her ankles hurt so she spread them and sank into a kneeling seat. At least I'm built with a pillow she thought and laughed.

She sank a little deeper and her little sack and cock kissed the ground. Rough and delicate, both getting hotter as the day rolled on, two surfaces that should never touch. A slave must get involved in so many new situations that aren't supposed to happen.

A breeze blew over her tits and through her hair. What did she want? Was it this?

She looked over at the leash knotted to the pole. A dog wouldn't understand how it was affixed but she and the dog both understood the same truth: master has put me here and I will be here until he gets me. It was humiliating, looking at the world from her knees. And it was worse knowing that if they were playing this at home she would be grinding into whatever she was kneeling on: the bed, the couch, the carpet. But the real world was too hard, and all she could do was wait and hope that her owner would satisfy that need for her.

She would have to earn it, she supposed.

Musing and dripping, the life of a slave. She was so involved in her own horny philosophizing that she hadn't noticed the group of men come around the other side of the pet store.

"Woah!"

There were five of them, all in black and three with skateboards. Their outfits were stupid, all band merch or ripped up normie things. Where there was a cap it was askew, where there was a belt it hung loose, and while each of them had a backpack not one of them wore both straps at once. They were all boys. The two without skateboards had beer cans sweating from the heat.

Gasping, Penina's arms raced to cover her breasts. She pulled her thighs together.

"Oh what the fuck, dude!"

They laughed a wolf pack laugh. A frat laugh, nervous but wowed. They got within a few few feet and stopped. No, no... just go! Go grind somewhere!!

They looked her up and down, and peeked around her back (she tightened her buns in response for all the good it did) and kept looking at each other.

"Dude is she, like, okay?"

One of the skateboarders laughed. "She's fine, guy. She's not cuffed there, right? You can just stand up, you know that?" He laughed. "Like, her shit's right there."

They weren't sure if they could pounce on her but they had no reservation about her clothes. They tore the pile apart like hyenas might take apart an antelope. She didn't see their noses twitch but she knew they could smell her perfume as it all unfolded. This was true except for her panties, which one of the beer drinkers immediately pulled open and gave a big, almost sarcastic sniff. It wasn't sarcastic.

His buddy laughed. "Sick, dude!"

He pulled her ripped panties apart to show the print. "Just smelling the flowers bro!"

He flung the panties at his friend's head and he ducked and caught them. They laughed but he smelled them afterwards too. Penina wondered if they had the same remnant of wetness that she did now.

"Christ, lady, are you some kind of freak?"

"Did that, like, slavery thing happen?" Another skateboarder asked.

"I don't know dude, your mom uses the paper everyday 'cuz I won't get her a towel after."

He punched his shoulder.

"Maybe some European dude brought her over. Hey! Lady! Bon-joor!"

They all loved that. "Hey, yo habla clothes? Hey, hey, someone ask her what a blowjob is in euros."

"Amsterdam girl!" One shouted, and started singing something. The chorus said, repeatedly, "~Amsterdam girl, suck it n' blow it~"

The lead skateboarder had plopped himself down in front of her, his skateboard between his legs, rolling forward and back. "You're beautiful," he said.

Shoulders hunched, arm across her chest, her obedient posture was tensed, guarded. But even now some part of her mind was telling her to guard master's property, not her own body. She kept her big brown eyes on the ground.

"Could I see a little more, beautiful?" he asked softly.

His friends were holding up her bra, playing with her shoes. "You gonna sniff these, bro?"

The skateboarder leaned in. His eyes were blue and deep. A scar ran through his blonde eyebrow, the other had a piercing through it. "I promise if you show me I'll make them all leave. These guys are fucking dumb. They don't get it."

His fingers were filthy. Oil? Dirt? He touched her chin gently and pulled her face to his. She had to look at him now.

"I think you'll probably do it if I order you. Do you want that?"

Her lip trembled.

"Show me."

She lowered her arm, just enough to slip it under her tits and push them up a little. She hadn't meant to part her thighs but she did. Jack liked her shaved, and so there was no soft brown hair to hide her, just a dark afternoon shadow made even darker by the one cast by the skateboarder.

He grinned at her tits and eyed the shadow for a time. He grinned a little more. "You're just a dirty little thing, huh?"

She didn't know if she nodded or just thought it.

"Cover up. You're a slave right? Your master probably wants you for himself. Don't let these losers see."

He stood up and rounded the guys together with ease. "Put that shit back where you found it. Be responsible, man. I don't leave your mom bent over the dryer!"

They balked but tossed it back in a loose pile. The lead skateboarder said as they left, "that's why your dad calls me Mr. Erikson and not T.J."