Office Girl Allison Ch. 06

Shopping Spree

© William D'Ark 2022

This work is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains graphic language and numerous sexually explicit scenes related to bondage, discipline, and sado-masochistic (BDSM) lifestyles, as well as exhibitionist-voyeur and power exchange relationships which may be considered offensive by some readers. All depicted sexual and/or BDSM activity in this work is considered expressly consensual between adults. All characters and events are entirely fictional and any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental.

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'Let's go shopping,' I said, changing the subject.

'Oh...' she replied with some excitement, shaking off all the rest. 'I head you say that before. Here? Macy's?'

'Yeah, let's go spend some of the company's money. Whether Macy's or somewhere else.'

'Hey, my part is for under the Christmas tree.'

'Let's go spend some of my new money. My treat.'

'Cool! Can I get dressed now?' She moved the dildo onto the console and scrambled to find the Christmas dress. Pulling at it from the back seat, she looked at me with another wry grin. 'I bet I know where you want me to put this on. Outside...'

'You figured it out, did you?' I grinned, picking up the dildo. 'Yeah, but let me put this away first. Make sure the coast is clear.'

I made a quick trip to the trunk and ...at my signal... Allison emerged from the car wearing only the cropped sweater. She stood for a moment, looking tall, lean and graceful beneath the parking lot lamp. She swopped the red silk dress for the sweater. Braless, pantiles, she pulled the long sleeve angora over her shoulders, hugging herself against the chill night air.

Before buttoning it she asked me... 'Is this proper dress now, Sir?'

'Almost,' I replied. 'Let's fine tune the look. Unfasten the dress's top button. Match that with the sweater buttons.'

She looked down and followed my guidance. The layers were open below her breastbone. 'That's pretty showy,' she said to herself. She moved her shoulders to feel how the breasts would respond. 'I feel air all the way to belly button,' she muttered. She drew her hands to the bodice and opened it wider. More breast flesh came into view.

'Like that?'

'Just like that,' I smiled. 'Nipples still show on the outside, see?' I brushed them with my hands. 'And admirers might get a glimpse inside. That's what we want.'

'Yes Sir.' She practiced leaning forward so people would see. 'I wouldn't play like this at the company party, but anywhere else... watch out.'

'Before we go, Allison...' I turned her to face the car again, leaning her over the hood like before. I lifted the dress up all the way up.

She had learned not to resist. She lowered her head to the hood and gave out a little moan, anticipating something other than what I had in mind.

'Was it ten? Or fifteen?' I asked her.

I laid a leather riding crop across her bare ass. ...balancing it...

She reached behind to grab at the leather covered steel rod. 'Sir, I don't know...' she cried out. Her bare ass wiggled back and forth. I held the crop in place while her hand explored what was there.

'Ten or fifteen?' I repeated.

'I can't remember!' She raised onto her elbows.

'Maybe it was five and not ten.'

'No! I counted past five! Sir..!'

'The difference between ten and fifteen is what, Allison?'

She wasn't sure where my question was leading. ...'Five?' she nervously replied.

'Five it is then. Count with me.'

I swept the crop across the back of her calves.

'Owwww!' she cried out.

'Hush, Allison, you'll get us both arrested.' I swept the crop across the back of her thighs. 'How many is that?' I asked.

'TWWOOO, ohmygod Sir..!'

A third swish along the back of her knees.

'THReee...' she bawled, stamping her sandals against the parking lot asphalt.

I was going to have to hurry before someone saw us. I gave her another sharp swish on the meat of her ass. Her head snapped back drawing in a deep breath.

'FOURrrr!' Tears rolled onto the Acura hood.

'How many more swats are left? Tell me.'

'One, Sir...' she whined, collapsing onto the car again. Accepting her punishment.

The final swish was a mean one. Right in the cleft between ass and thigh.

Allison's body writhed... She was weeping hard... waving her ass back and forth.

'Sir... pleeasee...' she whimpered through the tears. 'Don't stop!'

She groaned, 'It might have been twenty.' She was wagging her bare backside at me. 'I need ten more,' she teased. She used a soft girly voice to say, 'You can't stop now...'

Holding back laughter, I thought to myself... This girl! Such a brat! But daring too. I shook my head with a stifled smile. She has a sense of humor - about being punished!

I slipped my thumb into an increasingly familiar, glossy-feeling space between her legs. She lifted up on the tiptoes of those white leather sandals, pushing my thumb deeper. So, yes, I worked the G-spot till she dribbled more juice, this time into the Palo Alto night. Onto parking lot asphalt. Her arms flapped against the metal hood as I wiped my hand with a back-pocket handkerchief. 'Uhhh,' she softly said.

Her eyes blinked at me sideways from the hood. 'The big dildo doesn't do that nearly so well.'

Cheeky girl. I was loving it.

I lifted her up by her hair. Turned her around. The face was ruddy, tear streaked, eyeliner running. I kissed her gently.

'Accurate count next time,' I said. 'Or it gets worse.'

'Yes Sir,' she replied, draping her arms around my neck. Burying her head against the side of my neck.

'Let's find you a restroom. Wash those cheeks, repair the makeup. Then... lead on, girl. Anywhere you want to shop.'

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Allison came out of the mall restroom looking truly refreshed, I must say. I handed her a cold bottle of Icelandic Glacier. She drank half of it in one long glug, famished to replace all the juice she had given up over the past three hours.

'Just what I needed,' she sighed. 'Besides all those other things too...' Her eyes glinted.

I drank the remainder and dropped the glass bottle into recycling.

Mall holiday hours were in our favor; shops were open till midnight. We browsed the big department stores - Macy's and Neiman Marcus - as well as smaller trendier places. I encouraged Allison to try on the younger fashions, the things Stanford girls were wearing. She baulked at first, worrying she was too old to dress so young. 'No way,' I said, pointing out that many women her age - and older - were touring the same shops. Or walking the mall dressed in same current, stylish tops, dresses and skirts I had in mind for her.

She agreed to keep an open mind.

Of course, when it came to dressing, the difference between Allison and the rest was clear. Allison rarely had permission to wear underclothing. The no-panties rule was always in effect. And I encouraged her to be braless as often as possible, even at the office when I felt she could get away with it. Other women wore layered armor, essentially, looking stiff, uncomfortable and unattractive by comparison. Cleavage was sometimes shown, nipples hardly at all. And bare vulvas? Never. Colorful panties were sometimes flashed, but nothing more daring. ...Except in the bars late at night after many rounds of alcohol. By that time those women had lost all knowledge of what they were doing or why. I would have nothing to do with them.

Allison wore blouses, sweaters and tops, midi- or mini-dresses and skirts - all approved by me - intended to show deeply scooped or plunging décolletage. Or to be clingy and thin so nipples would show as I've already described. And even Allison was coming to realize the excitement, the impact of maybe showing her bare sex to others... kept her on edge all...the...time... drawing people to her... prepping her for more orgasms.

She was a walking sex girl waiting to be properly used. Because she was learning how to dress properly.

This pattern extended to her recreational clothing too. What, you say? How was Allison's private time included in our office contract?

It wasn't.

But she became so enthusiastic about what she was discovering on company time that she voluntarily carried over contract rules to other parts of her life. She reasoned this was more likely to attract a full time Sir anyway. ...One already tuned to her needs by observing how she behaved day to day.

And... truth be told... the men I recruited to help train Allison took her far beyond the work place where she would always be properly dressed. She was treated to fine restaurants and night clubs, lifestyle parties and of course private dungeons. Her every expense was covered by me or them, including baby sitters when necessary. Allison came to enjoy and possibly rely on proper dress as a statement of who she was becoming. She gradually adopted all contract rules as a twenty-four-seven thing, with proper dress as the centerpiece.

This meant I could expand my influence beyond the office environment. So we shopped - during the noon hour - for lifestyle-acceptable dresses, tops, booty shorts, tees, pool and beach wear, even gym wear. Happily paying for most of it, I was able to gradually transform her wardrobe. Clothing ranged from elegant to dressy to suggestive to hardly there at all - the clothing intended to reveal instead of conceal. She learned that areolas and nipples were to be shown off routinely, not just flashed. Dresses and skirts were chosen precisely because they displayed those gorgeous thighs and might show off that inviting pussy - if people were lucky enough to see.

Views of her breasts, nipples, thighs and pussy would be doled out selectively, sometimes by 'accident', sometimes on purpose. I, of course, could have any part of her at any moment when we were together. I took advantage of that. Or I might grace others with her gifts because they were helping with her training. Or share her with others knowing she would be properly used.

All of it wrapped in 'proper dress.'

I drove home the point that this was the most important thing she could do, day to day, to underscore her lifestyle commitment. And to kindle the energy she needed to have running through her. She learned to plan her outfits the night before, being mindful of the next day's agenda. Proper dress sometimes included bondage items beneath her clothing, per my instructions. Or a certain combination of clips, plugs and vibes. She had to plan it all out so there would be time to satisfy my demands alongside the other obligations she had as a mom.

Soon, Allison became an expert at knowing how to dress, when to show, how much to share, and how to benefit from such exposure. It all had a purpose, whether mine or hers. It was always about her pleasure - in some way!

Of course, she could temporarily shift to vanilla ways when the situation required discretion. This mostly included time spent with her daughter or other family members. Our contract put lifestyle-type behaviors on hold in those circumstances, including where children were present or when someone might specifically object to what they were seeing. ...Such as with churchy friends like Adele.

But if I ever found her not properly dressed when she should have been... punishments ensued.

In these ways the power exchange lifestyle became Allison's new norm. She embraced it fully and would never entirely give up such behavior even in her elder years. Returning to vanilla ways would be impossible. Especially once the addiction switch was ON.

It took months for that to happen; rewiring the nervous system is a gradual thing. Filling the blood stream with a constant supply of addictive sex chemicals requires a major shift in behavior. Lifestyle behavior. The more a girl orgasms, climaxes, cums, - however you want to say it - pumping those delirious chemicals into the system, the quicker the dependence begins. Which is why I had her cumming dozens of times a day. Morning and night. At work and elsewhere. For me, for herself, and for the many others who would, time to time, enjoy her gifts too. She was also required to inform me every time it happened by sending a quick text, or, preferably, a snapped photo. I had to keep track.

If I repeat myself while telling these stories it's because years ago I adopted the old salesman's mantra:

'Tell 'em what you're going to tell 'em. Tell 'em. Then tell 'em what you told 'em.'

Something as important as a major cultural shift like this - bringing women's sexuality into full view - requires aggressive repetition.

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One of the most exciting things about taking a lifestyle girl shopping comes from encouraging her to model the items you have in mind to buy for her. You know she will be naked in the dressing room... and that's where all the excitement begins.

Make sure all your clothes are off each time. And don't close the door all the way, you might tell her. Leave the curtains parted so people might see. Or... Cum for me while you're in there. Send me snaps of everything...

Heard this from me before?

...The lifestyle is all and only about the girl's sexuality. Her pleasure. Endless streams of it at every occasion. A submissive's orgasm is available on demand, wherever she is, whatever she's doing. She is trained to live this way drawing on her Sir's experience, skill and persistent means. Her cumming can happen in a dressing room. A public park. A church pew or confession booth. The opera, symphony or theater. A library. Hotel hot tubs or saunas. Government buildings or company offices. Busses, trains, subway cars. A friend's couch or grandma's spare bedroom.

To name a few such places I have enjoyed making it happen.

Anywhere. Any time. She has to expect to cum on command and be prepared to deliver. And not one of those fakey 'Oh that was so good' orgasms just to get it over with. Prove to me it happened. Show me the cream, the juice. Bring me a taste. Show me the photos.

Never let her to get lazy about it. Remind her of why it has to be this way.

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That first time taking Allison shopping, I wanted her to try on many types of clothing. To play in the dressing room, to step out and show me what the item looked like. So I could ooh and ahh, stroke her breasts or lift up a skirt saying Turn this way. Open another button and let me see. What happens if...

Lifting her arms - Does her pussy show because the hem has come up so high?

Sitting in a chair and crossing her legs - Will people be able to see her sex?

Leaning over too far - Do the nipples come into full view?

Pulling at her nipples so they stand out firm - Is this sheer enough? I can't see all the detail, can you?

It was fun to play with the sales assistants too. They were typically shy women, unsure how to react when Allison pulled a top over her head before stepping into the dressing room, standing bare-breasted in front of them to ask for a size smaller or a different color. Or pulling up a hem and asking for opinions about her bare sex. Is this short enough? Can you see my pussy?

So much fun! We left the mall with literally bags of stuff in our arms.

It being winter time, I bought her a thick, comfy cable knit sweater dress, stretchy in the shoulders so I could slide it off and down when we had office privacy, unveiling her from the waist up to kiss and fondle, stroke and hug. I was gradually teaching her to cum from nipple play so anything that would contribute to that outcome became fair play. Tweezer clips added at noontime, for example. Or thin rubber bands during her afternoon break. Or I would sometimes bind her breasts tightly, side to side, before sliding the sweater back up over her shoulders. The breasts would engorge and be subject to constant stimulation as the wool swept back and forth across her nipples for the rest of the afternoon.

I bought her an open weave cashmere sweater, knowing she liked the feel of that fine wool on her skin. The texture was loose enough that you could make out the lines and colors of a bra underneath. That was a tease for our office mates, really, while the better tease began at closing time when I would tell her to take off the bra in the ladies room, then walk to her car with nipples struggling to poke through the weave. Sometimes we would meet for afternoon drinks with her dressed like that, where all kinds of heinous activity designed to advance nipple training might take place.

She found a body hugging, tope colored, mid-thigh sweater dress. It had rounded side-slits and what the sales woman called a 'sweetheart' neckline, meaning it swept down in a wide ark to reveal a landscape of chest and upper breast flesh. Her nipples were prominent in that dress, as if they were uncovered. Could she find a bra to wear with it? For work? If not, it would make a great date dress.

There was a drop shoulder, baby blue, pleated shirt dress. The buttons ran from the wide collar on top to mid-thigh - giving plenty of options for adjusting the dress to show, whether from the top down or bottom up. Very yum. Plus the material was just dense enough to make the viewer unsure. Is she wearing a bra? The nipples were 'there' but not really where you might expect them. ...Hmm

Perfect.

There was an aluminum mesh, serpentine colored, side boob maxi dress. The mesh, though woven tightly, was unlined. It showed just enough flesh from underneath that an eye could trace the silhouette of Allison's figure including the shape of her labia. The front and back panels were tied from hips to waist with black, crisscross pattern cords. The panels behaved like a loin cloth where the flaps might fly up or to the side. It had narrow epaulets at the shoulders that would shimmy as she walked, revealing soft rounded breast flesh at the sides. The panels were deeply cut too. With Allison's large bust, an inadvertent sharp movement might cause an entire breast to slip into view. Finally, the side ties were adjustable. I (or she) could tighten them or loosen them depending on our mood and our interest in making the dress into a truly explosive lifestyle fashion statement.

She also chose a solid white, backless, side boob halter dress. Tied at the neck, it was also adjustable to fit our mood. How risky did we want to be with those side views? Maybe allow a nipple slip? Planned breast slippage? Full views of her breasts from the side or behind? Time to time, all of it happened.

We found a lulu mesh micro-bikini for when the weather was warm. And a cobalt blue mesh keyhole bikini. It has a narrow triangle top that could be adjusted depending on how much areola we wanted to show. There was also a very sheer, mesh bikini top, turquoise color, with an unlined black string bikini bottom. This became her go to beach bikini. It came with a super-sheer aqua tee as a cover up, though it was more see-through than the bikini top itself. Add to that a two-tone, high neck bikini top... in a velvety soft, stretchy clay-colored fabric. The cups were woven to a wavy silver mesh that fit snugly across her chest, pulling at the stretchy fabric. When wet, the clay cups would cling like a second skin, showing every detail of the Allison's large, tight nipples. Every detail. ~ So hot... This became to go-to poolside and sauna bikini. It made Adele blush bright red. ...According to rumor, I mean.

I was confident that Adele would find a way to adapt to Allison's new persona so long as we made the shift gradually and it didn't interfere with our time together in the office.