Savannah Gray Pt. 02

The hustle and bustle, chaos and serenity merging into one swarming pool of browsing and buying. Schoolboys on lunch break, groups of young women between gym and date night, businesspeople idling away the time gazing into stores as they walk on by. Like the cosmos, a shopping center contains a microcosm of all known phenomena, swirling galaxies of impenetrable young men speaking far too loudly, binary systems of couples hand-in-hand, black holes, musicians at pianos drawing in crowds and sucking in the nearby energy.

And in the middle of all this, a shooting star...

...

The car journey brought Savannah Gray, from am outside point of view at least, nothing but dread. A dread so sweet it seemed to blur the lines between excitement and panic. The two are often sister emotions. When one is in a state of panic there are certain physical and mental manifestations that make themselves known. Sweaty hands, increased heartrate, thinking about the future and what is coming to name but a few. And yet, the same can be said for excitement depending on the person.

In this case, the person is Savannah Gray who, for the last 15 minutes or so, had been staring out at the passing cityscape from the back seat of her Mummy's car. It was mid-afternoon, and the crisp cold air had made the inside of the car less than comfortable for the bare bottom for Savannah, who was shaking moreso from the temperature than from the actual thought of being publicly paraded in her chastity device.

"Come on Savannah, we're here." Said with a smile and a loving pat on the thigh.

Mummy had opened the door to the car and Savannah sat motionless for a moment, in a state of paralysis. Now normally a person might be crying or on the edge of a panic attack in this scenario, but Savannah is not one to cry at being exposed in public.

She's a sissy, a slut, and she was on the edge of something else. Her clitty had been straining in her little metal cage all throughout the journey. Somewhere, deep in her soul and in her bones, was an excitement so pure that it sent her mind into a state of foggy emptiness. And she had been sitting in this emptiness when a hand reached out and grabbed her own. Mummy's hand.

"Silly little girl, always daydreaming. Now let's go, we have outfits to buy darling!"

Mummy marched on with confidence, hand intertwined with her little girl's, and as they made their way through the parked cars towards the front door Savannah held on tighter and tighter to her pillar, her keyholder. Like a child using stabilisers on their bicycle to avoid falling, Savannah felt that as long as she kept hold of her Mummy, she was grlunded and rooted down. Maybe if she let go, she would just dissolve into nothing, or at the very least she might float up into the clouds. Up there, there are only birds to judge you. Sure, occasionally there's a plane filled with families and holidaymakers, but they would fly on by and never been seen again.

But Savannah loved to be judged. Objectified. For she is an object, not to others but in her own mind. What's wrong with being an object? She always loved objects. Pretty objects, shiny and pleasing to the eye and to the touch. She frequently remembers, fondly she would add, waiting for her mother to go to work and locking the door to the apartment. She would instantly strip and begin dressing up in her mother's stockings, her panties and her garter belts. She would try walking in her heels despite her feet being far too big for them. She spent more time in her mother's dresses than her mother did, this she was convinced of. She even found, whilst rummaging, a bullet vibrator. She would slip it down the front of her stolen panties and lie there waiting for inevitable premature orgasm, after which she would fill with guilt and shame and return everything where she found it. 20 minutes later, another premature orgasm would follow, for she had very little time between post-orgasm shame and the urge to be a slutty panty thief. Stealing underwear from your girlfriend or your roommate is one thing. But to steal panties from your own mother, and to vibe yourself off in them, staining them with your schoolboy jizz, is something else entirely. Its positively Freudian, I think.

'Freudian' is one if those words nobody seems to actually be able to pin down. Like 'Machiavellian'...

The door to the shopping center had been surrounded by a small group of young women, maybe 23 years old. They looked like, simply from that unknown aura we all seem to be able to recognise and describe in humans, like they were all in the same class. Maybe a theatre group, Savannah thought at first. But their postures suggested dancers.

Great, a group of dancers in t-shirts and warm leggings all staring. They all, like the whole rest of the world it seemed, were staring. Some in disbelief, some in horror, but all staring. Two of the group blushed, but their expressions were not of disgust or horror. Disbelief, maybe, but more of surprise. Their faces portrayed an emotion more akin to 'impressed astonishment'... Okay, this is it, if your thought was 'my God, I could never ever have the courage to do that', this is the expression that would manifest on the face of someone incapable of not showing off each thought in an expresssion.

But most people were not so... whatever the word is to describe these two girls. Most were harsh judges. But Savannah had been round the sissy block a few times. She'd masturbated in museums, parks, cinemas, on buses and even in her mother's bed (she would sometimes sniff her used panties whilst doing so. Even a therapist would have a journey unpicking that one, one imagines). She'd fucked her hole with a dildo whilst staying in a Croatian hostel, whilst people slept and listened to audiobooks not 3 feet away from her naked body. She'd humped her pillow whilst saying, loudly and solely to enjoy the feeling of having the words come from her own mouth, that she never wanted to fuck a pussy ever in her life. She had made eye contact with men as she walked home after being pounded by a man filled with severe mummy issues (and daddy issues. In fact, being called "daddy" rendered him a slobbering mess of tears. Savannah spent a few hours, after having her wonderful booty destroyed I may add, reassuring him that his childhood was all in the past and that he was now a very successful man making his way in the world, whilst sucking his balls down her throat with such vigour that she herself cried during the whole act. She prided herself on having a very nurturing touch despite her proclivity to take cock like a champion.) These men, having not ever prepared themselves for this eventuality, had been greeted to a sight that Savannah is sure to this day ruined one or more of their sexual lives...

They had been stumbling back from a club when, right in their path appeared a 5ft 7, equally stumbling, drunken wreck of a 'girl'. Slightly chubby (she wasn't always the slim cock-holster she is now) and wearing fishnets as black as their cocks. Pink leotard, complete with fully erect femboy hog on full show. Black fur coat, open and blowing in the wind. She sauntered between them, or should we say 'under them'. They were all at least 6ft 4, and towered over her. If they so desired, they could have picked her up with one muscular hand. As she passed, they all, even if they told themselves they didn't want to, simply had to turn to see if this little thing had what they all felt she wouldn't.

"Oh shiiiit man that ass cannot be real!"

"She has to be trans!"

"But where's her tits man?"

A shout emerges from the group,

"Hey, is that ass real!? C'mon dont lie to us baby!" This one was definitely interested, thought Savannah.

"You want to find out!?" She had turned her head slightly to face them and held her arms out like an open invitation.

Inaudible mutterings amongst the men followed, obviously discussing said proposition. At least they were being philosophical about it, even if only as a result of the alcohol.

"I have FIFA back home. You boys can fuck around pretending to 'score' and he can rail me if thats what you wanted to hear."

And thats how it came to be, 6 grown black men walking a small femboy slut home in the cold, one of them on his way to have dirty sex with a man for the first time whilst the others pretended to play FIFA. In reality, they all would listen intently as Savannah drained him dry over and over again until she emerged alone holding a joint.

"I think your boy needs some water." She was completely naked and smelled like semen.

Savannah went on that day to take a shower joined by a different member of the group, the drained man went on to direct theatre, and the whole gang became close friends. She still keeps in contact with them actually.

...

After the initial shock and trepidation, Savannah soon found herself walking amongst the day's shoppers almost oblivious to the fact that all she was wearing out in public in winter was the tiniest of cock cages. In fact, the cold weather made her little clitty shrivel up and the cage became far more comfortable, so at least there was that. And people judge you if you're wearing boat shoes for god sake, what's the difference between that judging and this judging? It's all the same.

And Savannah isn't above judging. Whilst old men looked at her in complete disgust, she was returning the favour, silently judging their hunched posture and their lack of care in their appearance.

"Sissy, Mummy has to use the bathroom for a moment. Go sit over on that bench and wait for me."

Her Mummy walked off, and left Savannah in the middle of the chaos. Savannah found a seat directly beside an older couple, and opposite a girl on her phone leaning against a wall. The girl was obviously taken aback by the sight in front of her. Savannah had sat down and left her cage dangling over the edge of the bench, her balls swaying gently, and the girl, maybe 21 years of age, could simply not focus. Her eyes would not leave her. It would have been uncomfortable if Savannah didn't love being looked at with every ounce of her being. She blew her a little kiss after some minutes, which caused the girl to fumble her phone and drop it on the floor. Savannah let out a little giggle and the older couple joined in to her surprise.

Older people tend to go with the flow more, porbably as a result of being closer to death and having seen more of life. Oh, theres a naked young man, completely shaved and wearing something on his penis in the shopping center? Well you know, kids these days.

"I should get one of these for him" the woman remarks, pointing at the cage. "We may be old but he still asks me if we can 'run the clock back' every week without fail! I just don't have the energy anymore."

"Does he like young men?" Savannah teases, mimicking a cat clawing at the man. "If there's one thing we have it's energy."

"Well I don't know, how old are you?" There's a little slap on the lady's shoulder from her husband at this remark. "What dear? Times change, and I don't have to remind you of your army days do I? "Always in the showers with the other soldiers" you used to say to me. "Always buggering and having to pretend not to enjo-""

"Sorry," interrupts the husband, "but you have an admirer."

Savannah turned from the couple to the girl against the wall. She was off her phone now and engaged in a battle within herself. She would go to make her way to Savannah, but then hesitate and feign interest in the shop windows or the floor. After a couple of rounds of this, Savannah had had enough.

"You want to sit?"

The girl was flustered and didn't say anything. She turned bright red and silently shuffled close to the bench. Savannah made a gesture to the space beside her and without words the girl took a seat. She crossed her arms and looked off into the middle distance for some time.

"We'll leave you two alone," said the old woman collecting her shopping bags and standing up. "And I love your necklace by the way, I used to have the same one."

Both Savannah and her Mummy had failed to realise the necklace.

It said 'slut' on it.

Savannah looked at the departing old couple in admiration as they left...

"How do you put that on?"

Savannah turned to see the owner of the voice and when she did, she met the eyes of the shy girl beside her. Her eyes locked on her cage with wonder.

"Like, does it..."

"It locks with a key."

"It locks??" Still she stares at the metal swaying cage. "Where's the key? Can we unlock it? How does your dick fit in that? Is it cold? I... I feel like I have to see it."

"That's a lot of questions my love."

They both turn and standing behind them is Mummy, looking with a nurturing gaze at them both.

"I can answer them if you are happy to walk. We have to get this one *pointing at Savannah* a pair of thigh-highs. Come come sissy, Mummy needs you dressed now."

"Thigh-highs!?" Savannah shoots up to her feet in joy.

"Mummy!?" The girl shoots up and instantly nearly faints.

"Let's go." Mommy neither shoots up or nearly faints, and off they go.

...

Black with 3 white striped at the top,

White with 3 pink stripes at the top,

Dark red with no stripes at the top,

Savannah is flicking through socks and falling in love with each of them.

"But how does he-"

"She,"

"Right, she*, how does she pee??"

Mummy and the girl are deep in a question and answer session, and the obvious interest in the girl's voice is getting stronger.

"And she never wears jeans or boxers or even shorts?"

"Sissy's dont wear boy clothes." Savannah's voice answers from amongst a pile of potential purchases, "Oh please can I have these Mummy??"

"Regina, what do you think?" Regina, the girl interrogeting Mummy, pops round to inspect. She is already feeling pressure from her new teacher and so she's taking this all very seriously.

"Well go on, put them to your leg Savannah."

Savannah hasn't taken direction from someone other than her Mummy for a long time, so she's not used to this. But this is playful, so she obliges. She does as instructed, holding the pair of socks up to her upper thigh.

"Now, point your toes. Oooh sexy. Now... now, let me hold them, and you lay your hands on your chest all embarrassed. May I?" Regina turns with concern to Mummy who is watching all this eagerly. She doesn't want to impose, to overstay her welcome and take over.

"Oh please sweety go ahead. You've got 'Mummy' in your blood it would appear."

A blushing smile from Regina as she turns to face Savannah. They make eye contact and the hand-off is almost unnoticable. Regina holds the socks against Savannah's outer thigh, and a look of pure lust takes over her.

Savannah feels it too.

She's placed her hands on her chest and is facing away from Regina because she's feeling something stir inside her that's unfamiliar. Like a pool of swirling water has been stilled.

The socks are removed from her legs and Savannah turns around. She looks down at Regina just as Regina looks up at her, their eyes locking for what seems like eons and epochs.

Because they've been testing the socks against her skin, Regina is precariously close to Savannah's now dripping cage, and one of her hands is on the back of her bare thigh, just where the cheek of her bottom meets the leg. The string of precum falling from the chastity cage lands on Regina's black minidress as they both freeze to watch.

Regina stares Savannah dead in the eye.

"I want to kiss you so badly right now."

Said with lusty fire, she's a split second from leaping onto Savannah and falling into a sheer and polyester bundle of writhing love when all of a sudden their little bubble bursts.

"We have our socks?"

"Y-yes! Yes we do!" Regina stands at attention as Mummy takes the white long socks in her hands. They're extra long, they will effectively go from toe to the very top of Savannah's leg.

"Wonderful, you're really made for this job Regina my dear. How about you go and find something for yourself now? My treat." Mummy flashes her credit card and winks.

"C-can Savannah come and help?" She doesn't want to leave her side right at this moment.

"Of course! You girls go ahead, oh but first, Sissy, whilst you two were... playing at dress-up," She knows. She definitely knows. "I bought you these. I think you deserve to wear something after all this time, you've been a very very good girl today. Now go, put them on, get Regina whatever she wants and meet me at the car when you're finished. Understand?"

They both nod and Mummy turns to leave. The second her eyes have left the pair, Regina shoots out to grab Savannah's hand and they stare at each other.

"Let's get you dressed."

...

The declaration of love comes in all forms. Passionate letter writing, insulting each other for hours on end because you both communicate through playful banter, or even lifting weights together before listening to a podcast on the car ride home.

For some though, love is far more subtle. Adding extra food to the plate of the one you love because you know they are hungry at dinner time, folding their socks into a bundle because you know they always lose one, some love is hidden.

But as they look in the mirror in a dressing room together, Regina's hand on the waist of Savannah, her hand resting on the bottom hem of her brand new little black dress, they are both very aware of the fact. They are madly, hopelessly in love. In this moment, they are there, their hearts are one, and they are going to be one for a long time.

"It's even shorter than mine." Regina playfully pats Savannah's hip.

Again, for what seems like the four millionth time in the day, they face each other

Their chests and thighs are touching. Regina is slightly taller than Savannah and so Savannah is on her tip toes to be on her level. They turn with their heads to look at themselves in the mirror, and Regina holds Savannah up delicately by her round bum, one cheek in each hand.

"You sure? I think maybe my ass is just pulling it up more."

"Kiss me."

Savannah turns, her weight leaning on Regina's body, and looks at her like a frightened puppy.

"Do it, please for the love of God do it. Youre already holding my waist," They both check to see if that is in fact correct. And it is. Without realising, Savannah had started holding Regina's waist as soon as they faced each other. "and we are in matching dresses, now kiss me. Kiss me and let me put your thigh-highs on and then kiss me again and I'll help you be the best girl you could wish to be and then kiss me again and promise to never ev-"

If love could be seen by the eyes in visible light, that dressing room would have been a sight to behold. But seeing as it can't be seen, the innocent consumers pacing up and down outside, idly browsing bras and hats, hadn't noticed the firework show going on behind a simple curtain. 2 Girls, one wearing a little black dress, and the other wearing a chastity cage and an even smaller little black dress, were now pressed up against the wall of the dressing room, Regina's hands still on the perky boyish ass cheeks of Savannah, and Savannah's legs wrapped around Regina's waist tight. They must have been there for 10 minutes, just kissing each other. Occasionally a tear would drop on the floor, and it could have been from either of them. The only thing stopping them was their lack of breath, and at some point they stopped. They stayed, panting, noses touching and eyes locked, for some minutes, before the taller of the two spoke up.

"I want to see you without your cage Savannah. I want to play with your cock. Not your 'clitty', your cock. I know you. I know you more than she does, and you know I'm right. I want to love you, but real love. I want us. I want that cock to *feel* this fabric." She caresses the dress, over the area where the cage is. "Don't you want to be both? You can be a sissy but also fuck someone. You can be a little girl and fuck... well, me." She takes Savannah's hand and brings it down. She lifts her dress up and slowly runs Savannah's fingers over her pussy. Not over her own panties, because...