Heaven Hath No Wrath Pt. 03

She bent over to pick up the bags, winking back at Rhonda as the woman couldn't help noticing that she'd just bought several pairs of panties, then opted to walk out without any on. Parcel in hand, she stepped out of the store and checked her next to-do post-it. "Get a second opinion."

Inwardly, she winced. Outwardly, she smiled cheerily and began looking around for a capable male to inspect her selections. She murmured to herself, as if to make sure the inner Cindy could perceive her thought process. "Hmm, be nice to multiple opininons instead of just the one..."

Cindy tried to close her eyes and turn off her ears as she walked toward a group of three young men, students at the local college probably, sitting on a couch in a thoroughfare. One a white guy with dreadlocks, another wearing a jamaican beanie, and the third was just openly proclaiming his stoner status with a pot leaf on his t-shirt. To confirm, she could smell it on them up close. Seeing the scantily clad sexpot approaching, their conversation broke off and they looked up at her with comingled interest and surprise.

"Hey boys!" she chirped, preening. "Look, I don't want to bother you guys, but I wondered if you might do me a little favor." Her tone was nervously needy, as if it would be tough to talk any red-blooded male into what she was about to ask for.

"Whatcha need, baby?" asked Dreadlocks solicitiously.

"Well... oh my gosh this is embarrassing." It sure the hell is. "I came here to get some presents for my boyfriend, you see, and I wondered if you might tell me if you think he'd like them."

At once, all three boys slumped, losing interest. A hot bitch like Cindy was interesting right up until the point where she began to sound inaccessible. "Sorry, doll, we're in the middle of something," said Beanie.

"Oh, it won't take long," she promised fervently. "You see, I just bought a few items of lingerie, and I'd like to get a man's opinion before I take them back home."

Their initially intrigued expressions returned in an instant. "Oh, well, I'm sure we can give ya a few minutes then, babe," Dreadlocks said.

Pot-shirt hesitated. "Hey, what about Angela?"

Dreadlocks glared at him. "She's your fuckin' girlfriend dude - you wanna wait here for her, be my guest." Both he and Beanie were on their feet, following Cindy as she skipped down a side hallway to the restrooms. After a long hesitation, Pot-shirt hopped up and hustled behind them. At least I'm not stripping and doing this in the middle of the mall. I guess.

She went unhesitatingly into the men's restroom, blessedly unoccupied at the moment, the boys trailing behind her. "Are you guys sure this is OK?" They tripped over themselves to assure her that it was no big imposition. With that assurance in mind, Cindy giggled girlishly and tugged her tartan skirt so the clasps were in front and without ceremony, unfastened them and dropped it to the floor. In five seconds, she'd gone from half-dressed to half-naked, and what a difference it made.

The top was trickier. She'd noticed earlier that she'd seemed to knot it far too tight; with mounting horror, she began to realize why she'd been made to do it. She tugged, she fiddled, tried to squeeze a finger into the knot, but just wasn't getting anywhere (not that the boys minded, or even seemed to be aware she existed above the waist). She thrust her lower lip out in a pout that was too fake by a stretch even for this parody of a woman, and stamped her foot in frustration. She worried for a moment that the ensuing jiggle to her ass would make Beanie cum in his pants on the spot, the way he gaped. "Darnit, I just cannot get this stupid thing untied!"

And of course, Beanie and Dreadlocks were only too eager to volunteer, but instead, Cindy beckoned Pot-shirt over. "His fingers are littler - he'll untie it easier." He dragged his feet a little, and Dreadlocks actually shoved him to hurry him up. With trembling fingers, he tried to work at the knot, having difficulty given his reluctance to touch her.

She took a small step closer, more or less forcing her breasts into his hands. "Holy SHIT you have an amazing body!" Unbidden, the words came out of his lips in a loud exclamation, as if he had no more control of his voice than she had of hers. He looked embarrassed to have said it, but nonetheless looked sincere.

She was readying it to thank him when someone else spoke up, a new voice from the doorway. "What the FUCK are you doing with that slut?!"

In the doorway to the bathroom stood a young woman who could only be his girlfriend Angela, a voluminous mane of somewhat unkempt brown hair cascading down over a punk rock band shirt and skin-tight dark blue jeans. She was all curves - if she'd dressed to flatter her figure better, she'd be a knock-out. Cindy guiltily wondered if Pot-shirt was trading down by being with her.

As he tried and failed to stammer out an explanation (and his hands belatedly darted away from her jugs), Cindy interjected. "Oh, it's OK - I just asked the boys to give me some advice on some lingerie I bought, but I can't get this darned top untied!" My God I sound like a fucking airhead.

"Yeah, happens to me all the time," Angela said sarcastically, then looked her over harder. Cindy just kept smiling; Dreadlocks and Beanie just kept staring at Cindy's ass. In Angela's expression, though, there was something... well, something other than anger and disgust, which was all Cindy would be showing if their roles were reversed.

Evidently, Cindy's body understood what it meant better than she did herself, and she swayed over to Angela. "Say, I don't suppose you'd be willing to help out, would you?"

And there it was, manifesting more clearly - that predatory gleam in her eyes. Angela smiled wolfishly, then shoved her boyfriend aside and grasped the knot. Less nervous and with longer nails, she had the knot undone in moments. Meanwhile, her boyfriend locked the restroom door. "Well?" Angela prompted. "Don't you have something to show us?"

"She's showing us plenty already," Dreadlocks laughed, as Cindy knelt down to retrieve her new purchases. She went first with the nightie, probably because it was easiest to slip on and off. She took some small solace in being once more covered somewhat, then wanted to kick herself for being relieved at being in a mall restroom modeling lingerie for some horny stoners. Pot-shirt moved behind his girlfriend, pelvis pressed against her ass, and she grinded herself softly against him as he grabbed her wide hips.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked as she finished dressing, spinning slowly.

"Not bad at all, babe," Dreadlocks commented. "Your guy's a lucky man."

"Not as lucky as me," Pot-shirt commented lamely, flashing a sycophantic smile towards his own girlfriend; even Angela rolled her eyes.

"Well sure, this girl ain't got Ang's wonder-titties, does she," Beanie joked. "Still, she got the best ass I ever seen."

Jesus Christ, these pricks are already talking about me like I'm not standing right here. "Aww, you're so sweet. And yeah, I was thinking maybe someday I'd get bigger tits, maybe as big as yours," she said, admiring them plainly.

"They're a pain, trust me," Angela retorted as Cindy began stripping off the nightie, satisfied that it had received male approval for Eric. A moment later, she was naked again.

"I bet they look awesome though," Cindy said jealously. "Mine are so darn little that it's hard for me to get boys to notice me sometimes."

The irony was evidently lost on them, as all four openly leered at her as she proceeded to try on the mesh teddy, which met with equal approbation. Angela was openly humping her ass against Pot-shirt's groin now, though her eyes never left Cindy's body. For her part, whatever her voice was gushing on about how much she liked the sight of big tits, Cindy was purely heterosexual. Not that she had any problem with lesbians; she had just never felt a spark of attraction in that way.

Angela, it seemed, felt otherwise.

She didn't make her move, though, until Cindy had the red see-through bra and panties on. This one was worse than being naked - it was just there to take her nudity and form it into something even sexier, and with the lack of crotch-covering, she could be fucked just as easily with it on as off. She verbalized her reason for purchasing it in exactly that way, not even batting an eyelash at describing herself as, essentially, a toy to be dressed, undressed and fucked at will.

"Well thanks you guys, I feel a lot better about this now." She unclasped the bra and slid it off.

"Aw shit, that's it?" Beanie groaned, and Cindy nodded empathetically, as if to apologize for not giving him a more prolonged show.

Dreadlocks grinned in a way he probably thought was charming. "Say, I don't suppose your boyfriend's the sharing type, is he?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, but he'd be upset if I went around fucking every guy who saw me naked." UGH, what a fucking SLUT I sound like. Am. Still, at least Eric's not going to have me get gang-banged.

Then Angela came at her, flashing a sultry smile. "I'm sure he won't mind this," she said, and took one of Cindy's nipples in her mouth.

EW. Oh fuck EW. There's a girl sucking on my fucking nipple! Gross! And there's three pervs watching! Damnit, legs, why won't you run!

Instead, one of her legs snaked around one of Angela's to keep her close and moaned happily. "Yeah, I guess he'd be OK with me being with another girl," she reasoned aloud. She let Angela lick and suck on her diamond-hard nipples for a while before she spoke up shyly. "Say, could I see yours?"

Angela looked around at the guys for a moment. Dreadlocks had his cock out and was unabashedly masturbating; Beanie had his hand down his pants for the same cause but with a slight bit more subtlety. Her boyfriend Pot-shirt was just staring enviously. Angela looked at him as she answered Cindy. "I tell you what. He's always pestering me to suck him off, ten times a fucking day. You take care of him for me, and I'll show you anything you want."

Cindy delightedly agreed; evidently blowing strangers wouldn't bother the Eric her body was envisioning. And I guess sucking cock is preferable to lezzing out. She squatted in front of Pot-shirt and undid his pants, his erect cock springing out in her face as his underwear followed. She took it into her mouth zealously and started swirling her tongue around it, bobbing her head in a fast rhythm.

Then she felt Angela's arm wrap around her waist while her other hands planted on the back of her head. The stoner girl pulled up on her waist and pushed down on her head, ending in Cindy continuing the blowjob from a standing position, bent at the mid-section and doing most of the work with her abs. God damnit, this is not why I do 200 crunches every day! Luckily, her trampy little body was a gifted cock-sucker (big shock there) and gauging from his ragged breathing and periodic twitching in her mouth, he was near to cumming in minutes.

Then Angela's tongue thrust into her pussy.

So intent had Cindy been in her blowjob that she hadn't even noticed her legs being spread, or Angela getting on the floor beneath her. Two fingers then lunged into her dripping wet sex and started pumping. She squealed and moaned around Pot-shirt's cock, but her technique was shot. Angela had nothing on Eric when it came to reducing her to a quivering, shrieking, cumming slut, but she knew her way around a cunt and Cindy was at her mercy. Pot-shirt's attention shifted from the divine sensations of her mouth to the sight of his girlfriend eating this bitch out, and seemed to regain a bit of his stamina. Meanwhile, Angela's pinky shot right up Cindy's ass and joined the pumping frenzy, ruining her cock-sucking skills even further.

Angela was a giver though, and let Cindy cum twice before she withdrew. Of course, little did Cindy know that the main reason she did so was because her friends were signaling their readiness to cum, and so shortly after Angela's withdrawal she felt twin bursts of hot ropy cum blast all over her ass. When had Angela gotten my panties off? At least now I don't have to try to exchange them for a clean pair. A moment later, Pot-shirt was filling her mouth - clearly Angela was not doing this very often, as she had to rush to swallow before it overflowed and leaked down her chin.

She stood, smiling, panting, boy-cum dripping down the backs of her legs and girl-cum down the middle. Then a pair of feminine hands spun her around and before she could resist she was kissing Angela, sharing the remains of her boyfriend's cum, their tongues intertwining. True to her word, the busty girl had taken her shirt off and she could feel two enormous boobs pressing against her chest. Cindy, now mercifully deprived of her gag reflex as she was deprived of all bodily functions, bent down and took one of the weighty tits into her mouth, licking and sucking and nuzzling on it like it was an experience she'd dreamed of since puberty.

"Eat me, slut," Angela hissed at her between moans, and shoved Cindy roughly down to her knees.

"Mmm, I thought you'd never ask," she breathed as she dove into her first ever pussy. In the past few days fucking and sucking Eric, she'd had ample opportunity to learn what her own pussy juice tasted like; Angela's was different in a way she lacked adjectives to name, and of course, since she'd never wanted to do such a thing, infinitely worse.

The boys cheered her on, though. "Aw yeah, little slut sure likes the taste of you, Ang!"

"Don't forget to breath, babe!" Laughter.

Pot-shirt's hands on her tits, pinching hard on her nipples. "Make her cum like she did you, understand?" Cindy tried to nod without ruining her rhythm. "Good girl."

Once Angela had gotten off - during which two of the three boys (she was unsure which) had managed to get hard again, and once more unload their jizz on Cindy - they didn't even say goodbye as they walked off. Beanie and Dreadlocks both cupped her ass possessively, and Pot-shirt and Angela walked out hand in hand. What a perfect couple of assholes.

Cindy spent a few minutes cleaning herself off with paper towels, and was most of the way dressed before someone came in now that the door was open again. She was topless, but just giggled apologetically and finished dressing as if it were just a minor embarrassment. She was dressed, and marveled that the slutty schoolgirl outfit suddenly could feel so concealing. She stepped out of the restroom and checked her purse for her next errand. The third to-do post-it read, "you have ten seconds - be yourself."

Cindy screamed. It was a primal howl of shame and rage and pent-up frustration that echoed up and down the corridors of the mall.

When her lungs emptied, her face put on a smile and strode on out of the restroom hallway. A mall cop was already running in her direction, and stopped in front of her as it was evident she'd been the only woman down there. "Ma'am," he said, winded, "are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine! I just stubbed my toe really bad," she lied, then lifted her leg up and wiggled her toes as if he could see the injury through her shoe. Really, he just saw her bare leg exposed and an invitation to stare at it.

"Try to keep it under control there, ma'am. You scared the hell out of me - I thought someone was being raped or killed back there." He scowled.

Someone basically was, Paul Blart! Where were your crack detective skills when there was the sound of people fucking in the men's room? "Sorry, officer, I promise I won't do it again." He nodded to her, then turned and walked away.

The fourth post-it - and there seemed to be only one more after, thank God - was quite a bit longer, instructing her to go to a half dozen stores around the mall doing actual errands. Not that her body didn't find new ways to humiliate her in the process. She pulled a vibrator out of her purse while shopping for batteries, making sure they were the right size. How did that even get in there? She bought some new sheets, explaining to the man at the check-out register that she'd gotten the old ones dirty, then winked suggestively. A copy of the new Tomb Raider video game, allowing her to ask a salesman, "do you think I'd look this good with boobs as big as hers?" (He did.) And so on. Through it all, whenever possible she found excuses to shop from the bottom shelves, bending at the waist and flashing her ass and pussy.

With the final bullet completed, she produced the last post-it note. It read, simply, "Kiera."

Kiera was a mutual friend, who had for some time been pressuring Cindy to help set her up with Eric. Cindy had put in a good word for her, but Eric had never seemed interested - and of course, she now knew why. Because he'd been in love with her. At the time, though, it had seemed bizarre. Kiera was really pretty, a short Latina with dramatic features, a narrow waist with a butt that looked big on her but was objectively still pretty tight, boobs that were perkier than any Cindy had ever seen. She was gorgeous, really.

Of course, he doesn't know he already made me hit my lesbian quota for the day. That fucking jerk. With her body continuing to follow its own agenda without filling her in on the why's or how's, she flitted back out to her car and drove to Kiera's apartment. Cindy wasn't usually demure, but she certainly would never wear something this slutty; she couldn't begin to imagine how she would explain it believably to her friend. She's going to think I've gone insane. What if I can't convince her to come with me? Will I just abduct her or something? Filled with more shame than she'd ever known in her life, she walked up to Kiera's door and rang the bell, dreading what steps Eric might make her unwillingly take to complete his sick little errand?

As it turned out, she needn't have worried.

Kiera answered the door almost instantly, as if she'd been standing on the other side of it just waiting for the doorbell to ring. Which, given the other evidence before her, Cindy supposed she had been. Kiera was wearing the same slutty schoolgirl outfit Cindy was. Her bigger breasts were more on display, and her skirt was navy blue where Cindy's was red, but otherwise, they were a matching set.

"Hi, Kiera. Ready to go to serve Eric?"

"Hi, Cindy. I'm always ready to serve Eric." Deep inside, she cried out in horror at the grotesque sexual objects the two girls had become, just for the misfortune of being friends with a mind controller. And Kiera - hell, Eric could have fucked her any time she wanted. She was seldom one to play hard to get, and she'd made her interest clear. Yet apparently this - this vapid, glassy-eyed fuck doll - was more appealing to him than the real woman.

Is she like me? she wondered as they headed out to the car. Is she trapped inside her head, unable to resist? Or is she an eager nympho like Cindyslut? Or a pleasure-focused puppet like Cindyslave? Or something else? But her body didn't ask, and whatever slutty instincts that were operating its gears certainly didn't care.

On the drive to Eric's, Kiera spread her legs and played with herself, moaning little high-pitched girlish moans as she did so. She evidently wasn't wearing panties either, and her pussy was shaved completely bald. Cindy sneaked a hand down between her legs too every time they were caught at a stoplight. People saw, she was sure, but that was no deterrent to either of them.

They soon arrived at Eric's house, and Kiera helped Cindy carry her purchases inside. He was waiting for them in the living room once again. Without needing to be instructed, the girls in tandem straddled one of his legs and proceeded in no uncertain terms to double-team him. Their mouths were everywhere. Their hands were everywhere. It reminded Cindy of a POV version of watching strippers throwing themselves at men with money like she'd seen in movies, just throwing themselves at them with no semblance of self-respect, or reservation, or consideration that they deserved reciprocity.