The Shopping Spree Pt. 04

Author's note: The story thus far: On a cold Thanksgiving Eve, under the direction of Jim, Soma is being passed from man to man on a sensual shopping spree. Before handing him off to the first man, Jim made Soma insert a remote controlled vibrating butt plug. Each one has taken him to a different store and bought him an item of women's clothing which he has to wear for the duration of the experience. In return, Soma has to pleasure each man orally. After giving George two intense orgasms in a row, they head to Soma's next assignation. I hope you enjoy the ride.

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The drive to the next store was quiet. George asked me to remain seated in back with my legs spread and blindfold in place. I was clothed only in my new wardrobe: black fishnet crotchless one piece stocking and garter set from Jim, blue thong panties from Pete and the dark blue bralette George had purchased for me.

When he hit a stop light, George would turn on the vibrating butt plug lodged within me, not turning it off until we started moving again. My cock was tucked underneath me and was subject to the dual stimuli of my weight pressing it down and the vibrator causing it to swell and move toward my anus and the direct stimulus of the end of the plug. I could feel the precum flowing. George had anticipated that and had placed a towel under me. It was absorbing much of the moisture, but I was afraid of what might remain to stain my pants when I had to put them on.

I had given pleasure to three men and taken four loads, the last one a true gusher from George. I was still processing that, amazed and proud that I had been able to do that for him. I was also growing more and more horny: the combination of my sensual attire, the constant stimulus from walking around stores, the constant threat of exposure if I walked wrong and the irregular buzzing of the plug that possessed my ass and seemed to grow bigger by the minute, all were keeping me on the edge. I knew, however, that Jim had forbidden me an orgasm until he gave the word. In the darkness of the blindfold, I was nodding off into that special headspace my submission takes me...Jim and his friends were taking me places I would never dare have gone on my own. I dreaded the day ending almost as much as I dreaded the next humiliating trip to a store.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the car come to a stop until I heard George's voice.

"We're here, Soma. Wait here while I get Gordon."

I heard voices outside the car, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Doubtless he was handing me off to Gordon, along with the remote I had come to love nearly as much as I hated it. The door opened and I shivered from the sudden cold. A new voice called out.

"Get that blindfold off, Soma, so I can get a good look at you."

The voice belonged to a man about my age and a couple of inches taller. He wore wire rim glasses that matched his full head of black hair, which did not match his face: it was tan and wrinkled by too much sun worship in his earlier days. I doubted the carpet matched the drapes. His smile, at least, looked genuine. He was in good shape and wearing jeans and a jacket that covered up his shirt.

"You are a cutie, Soma. I'm Gordon and I hope we're going to become very close friends. You look good in lingerie...look at me, Soma, don't look down. I'm not flattering you. You wear it well, like it was made for you. There's only one thing missing: you need a pair of shoes to set it off. Let's see your feet."

He stepped into the van, sat across from me and picked up each foot. He stroked each sole gently, rubbed each toe and ran his hand up my leg. I shivered with excitement.

"Mmmmm, very nice, Soma. Your feet are soft and smooth, just the way I like them. They need polish and I'd love to see your legs with no hair, but I understand your situation. One day, perhaps...but now you better get dressed so we can hit the mall. We're going shoe shopping."

I put on my shirt and readjusted my tuck, ignoring them both staring at me. Next came my pants and, finally, my shoes. Gordon pursed his lips when he saw them. It was clear he was not a fan of deck shoes, though I found them very comfortable. It was also clear he had a thing for feet, which was fine with me. If he wanted to suck my toes, I'd be more than happy to oblige him.

George held out his hand when I got out of the car. I shook it and felt him squeeze it firmly.

"Thank you for a most pleasurable outing," he said. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again. He has a fantastic mouth, Gordon. Now I know what you guys meant when you said I was missing out."

"You're too kind, Sir."

"Sounds like we'd better get a move on, then. As for his mouth, remember what Reagan said: 'Trust, but verify.'"

With that, we set off toward a shopping center that had clearly seen better days. The parking lot was about 1/3 full. I recognized the signs of a mall that had once been the jewel of the area, but had been superseded by the latest and greatest mall fads. At least, I knew there would be plenty of shoe stores: they're the last places to close.

The usual Muzak was the first thing I noticed. The second was the lack of teenagers. They had moved on to the fancier malls, which was fine with me. I didn't need someone turning me into a TikTok star without my knowledge. The people I saw were mostly middle upper class moms enjoying an afternoon away from everyone. There was the occasional businessman running an errand, or, perhaps, arranging a tryst with one of those middle upper class moms.

Gordon directed me to one of the shoe stores. A young woman was behind the counter, focused on her phone. We walked toward the rear of the women's section. Gordon started looking at some stiletto heels with interest.

"What do you think, Soma? Would these look good on you?"

"I don't know, Sir," I said nervously, wondering how long it would be before the lady at the counter called security on the pervs in the back. "They look like they'd be hard on my balance."

"Perhaps, Soma. There's one way to find out. See that salesman over there? Ask him to come over here."

"Really, Sir, I think we can figure it our ourselves.....oooh! I'll go get him, Sir, just turn it off, please."

I walked over to a middle aged man wearing a shirt with a name badge that read "Phil" and a bored expression. He brightened up when I approached.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Are you being served?"

"Actually, my friend and I are shopping for some shoes for our wives and could use a little assistance."

"Of course, Sir. I'll be glad to help you and your friend."

We walked over to Gordon, who was looking at a pair of blue pumps.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Your friend told me you needed some assistance finding a pair of shoes for your wife."

"Did he?" Gordon looked at me with a look of disappointment. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment, then jerked up in surprise, as I felt the butt plug get my attention and hold it. I knew then I was in trouble.

"Actually, I'm afraid Soma misspoke slightly. We're looking for a pair of shoes for him: something sexy but not too difficult to wear. Do you think you could help us?"

Phil looked at me, figuring out that I was squirming with embarrassment. He was, of course, wrong. I was trying to avoid disaster and figure out a way to get Gordon to turn it off. I felt myself starting to sweat with the strain of my cock growing. He turned back to Gordon with a smile.

"Of course I can help you, Sir. We're not here to judge you, but to make sure you get the shoes you really want. Now, Sir," he said, turning back to me, "what size shoes do you wear?"

I took a deep breath before replying, then relaxed as the buzzing stopped.

"I normally wear a size 9."

"Generally, then, you'd take a size 10 in a pump, but, possibly, a 9 1/2 in a sandal. Have a seat and I'll measure your feet. Then we'll see what we have in your size. Do you have a style in mind?"

"No, we don't just yet," Gordon was making clear who was in charge. "But we would like something in a darker color, preferably a dark blue. It will match the rest of his outfit."

My cheeks were on fire and I slunk down into the chair. How much worse could it get? Phil pulled his stool in front of me and removed my shoe and I realized how much worse it could get.

"Very nice stockings," he murmured as placed my foot in the Bannock device. "Since they're fishnet, you'll need to wear footies when you try on our shoes. Here's a pair; you can put them on while I get some shoes in your size for you to try on."

"I'll show you what we want. And, Soma, you should roll up your pants legs so we can see how the shoes are going to look," said Gordon, fingering the remote and joining Phil as they wandered down the aisles.

My humiliation was complete. I rolled my pants legs halfway to my knee, showing my fishnets to anyone who walked by. The footies I slipped on would let them know what a pervert I was. Even worse, the tan of the footies ruined the look of the stockings.

But, wait...the footies didn't make me a pervert: they made me a woman. They were required for women who tried on shoes in their bare feet. While the fishnets were technically stockings, the mesh could allow sweat from my feet to soil the shoes. Phil wasn't humiliating me: he was simply treating me like every other female customer he had. And, oddly, that didn't bother me.

I was sitting in the chair, lost in thought, looking at my feet in the floor mirror. I felt a presence and looked up. Standing at the sneaker display on the wall across from me was a man in a business suit, a pair of sneakers in his hand, eyeing me with concern, then disgust. He shook his head and turned away, walking toward the front. I heard him muttering, "Faggot."

"Not faggot, Sir, tranny. Please try get your slurs right." Was that coming from me?

He stopped, turned and stared at me. I stared back, waiting for him to take a swing. I remembered that winning the eye contact battle established the alpha dog. I may have been a submissive cocksucker, but I was not a doormat, and I could stare down this bastard...

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" Phil was holding a stack of shoeboxes and addressing the man.

"Not any more...guess I'm done shopping here," he growled, dropping the sneakers he was holding and storming off.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I said to Phil, "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

"You weren't the one causing a scene. The man was being an asshole, that's all. We get them from time to time," he sighed.

"That took guts, Soma," Gordon said. Turning to Phil, he continued, "I guess I'll have to buy an extra pair to make up for your loss..."

"There's no need to do that."

"...and to reward Soma, here, for being such a brave girl."

He did not just call me a girl in front of this man, did he? My eyes flashed at him and I opened my mouth, but the sudden buzzing in my ass reminded me of my place.

"Thank you, Sir," I replied meekly, my eyes narrowed in a death stare, as he smiled and turned off the vibrator.

"No need for you to be embarrassed," Phil said, "You'd be surprised how many of our customers are men looking for a nice pair of pumps. We want to welcome everyone...as long as they can pay."

"Thank you again, Sir."

"And speaking of pumps, here's a nice pair."

He opened a box and pulled out a pair of blue suede pumps, with a 3" chunk heel. He lifted my left foot and slid my foot into it. Hmm...that was different. When I tried on men's shoes, the salesman would put the shoe on the floor and use his shoehorn to help me put it on. Phil was much more hands on: hands on the shoe, hands on my foot, hands sliding over my ankle when I set my foot on the floor.

"How does that feel? Too tight?"

"It's snug, but I guess they're supposed to feel that way."

"Let's get the other one on and see how you stand in them."

He placed my foot in the other one and stood up. I reached for his extended hands and he held them while I lifted myself out of the chair. After a slight wobble, I was balanced. Phil released my hands (did he just rub my knuckles? and looked at them.

"That's a good luck for you. Take a few steps and see how they feel."

I had walked in higher heels than this in the past, so I knew how to keep my balance. The chunky heels were sturdier than what I was used to, so it was easy to step. Instinctively, I took short steps, heel to toe. I swirled around and looked at Gordon for approval.

"They're okay, but a little plain looking. Soma needs something sexier." Gordon's voice was even, but I detected a huskiness in it I hadn't noticed before.

"In that case, we won't bother with the Mary Janes. How about something a little strappier?"

He brought out a pair of black 4" open toe heels consisting of narrow straps leading to buckling ankle straps. My heart skipped a beat: my favorite kind of sandals. Yes, please! I sat back down and took off the pumps.

Phil started to put them on me, but stopped.

"Don't tell anyone I'm doing this, but I can't ruin the look of these shoes on your feet," he said.

I watched him with renewed interest as he raised one foot gently and pulled the footie off, starting at the heel and sliding his finger over my insole, then lowering my foot carefully. He repeated this with my other foot, this time rubbing the top of my foot with one hand while again sliding the other across my insole and pocketing the footie. I felt a slight tremble in his hand as he lowered my foot. There were clear signs of a bulge starting to form in his pants.

The sandals were beautiful going on my feet. I pointed my toes down to make it easier for him to navigate the cross straps. He was intent on his task. I turned to Gordon and wasn't totally surprised to find him as intently focused as Phil, and similarly aroused. I understood why Gordon was the one to take me here.

Phil threaded the ankle straps through the buckles. As he tightened each one, he rubbed my ankle to ensure the fit. I sank back and sighed with pleasure, then caught myself and hoped neither of them had heard. My cock was stirring underneath me. I hoped the tuck would hold when I stood.

I placed my hands on Phil's shoulders and picked myself up out of the chair. My crotch was at his eye level. He looked at it for a second too long, didn't find a bulge and stood up, surreptitiously (he thought) adjusting his cock. I strutted back and forth, enjoying the sensual bondage of the straps and the combined sensations of stockings and shoes on my feet.

"These are the ones, Sir! May I have them?"

"Damn, they look good on you, Soma. I'll get them for you, on one condition."

"Name it," I said. At that point, I would have blown him, Phil, the woman at the cash register, even the asshole with the sneakers if I could only have the shoes. Was it the lingerie I was wearing? Was it the butt plug? Was it the cum I had swallowed? I didn't know, but I was deep in the throes of lust, over a pair of shoes, no less.

"You're going to have to let me pick out one more pair for you."

"Of course, Sir...we have to reward Phil."

"Yes, we have to....reward Phil. But first, I want you to try these on."

He picked up one of the shoeboxes and gave it to Phil. He opened it and removed a pair of blue ankle strap closed toe wedges. They had a vamp that extended for about two inches, a narrow heel counter, a wide ankle strap and a one inch rise. They would cover my toes but leave the rest of my foot exposed. They looked suitable for everyday use, but were nothing to write home about.

"Put them on," Gordon said, with an urgency that surprised me.

I sat down and Phil unbuckled the straps and slid the sandals off my feet. Was that a sigh I heard from him? He reboxed them and gave the box to Gordon. Taking the wedges, he unwrapped the velcro ankle straps and put them on me. I stood up and walked around. They weren't sexy looking, but they were very comfortable. I could see why women liked wearing wedges: they tightened my calves a bit and made my feet feel free. I could imagine the sun warming my exposed feet or a cool breeze playing over them like a lover's breath.

"I like them, Sir. You have good taste."

"Yes, they do look good on you. And they're...practical."

"Practical, Sir?"

"Never mind. Take those off and box them up. I'll pay for them up front. Meantime, you sit there and show Phil your thanks." He was off to the checkout before I had a chance to ask him what he meant. He didn't expect me to blow Phil here in the store? I had told Jim I would obey his friends, but that didn't include putting a strange cock in my mouth.

Phil saw my confusion. "Don't worry, Soma. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. And don't worry: I have another pair of slacks in the back."

With that, he positioned his measuring bench in front of me and about two feet away, sat down and spread his legs. I could see his cock outlined in his pants. It was erect and already starting to mark his khakis. I looked him in the eyes, trying to understand exactly what he wanted. His eyes went to my stockinged feet and licked his lips. He bent slightly toward me and I lifted my foot slightly toward him. He took it in his hands and placed it over his crotch. I could feel his cock under the cloth. I looked around nervously, but he mouthed, "It's OK."

I rubbed my foot over his cock slowly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. I curled my toes over the spot I judged his cock head to be and saw a dark spot form. I wondered if the precum would soak through to my stockings. I hoped it would, for Gordon's sake. By that time, I knew he would love seeing (and tasting?) that. I moved my foot higher and twisted my heel against the cock head, pressing in.

Footsteps sounded behind me and I lowered my foot quickly.

"No need to worry, Soma. It's me," Gordon's voice had a definite tremolo to it. He was standing next to me with a large bag in his hand. He was positioned between us and the front of the store. "Keep on with what you were doing."

I resumed massaging Phil's cock with my foot. He took my foot in his hand and pressed it firmly to his crotch, rubbing it firmly. I relaxed my body as best I could, allowing him to use my foot as his sex toy. He spread his knees further apart and I offered him my other foot. I held tight to the arms of my chair while he placed one foot on each side and slid them over his cock. The wet spot was growing and his breath was becoming shallower and faster. I could feel my own cock pushing forward into my ass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gordon rubbing his pants.

And then, Phil stiffened, squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a moan of pleasure. I felt him pulsing under my feet and the dark spot becoming a pool. My toes felt a sudden warmth and I slid my foot up to soak up as much as I could in my stockings. I didn't know how well the fishnet weave would absorb it, but it felt like the right thing to do. Phil gave several grunts, then slowly relaxed and opened his eyes.

"Thank you," he mouthed.

I lowered my feet, resting them on the back of my heels and keeping the toes pointing up. I saw a spot where cum had managed to make it through the khakis and ran my toes over the mess to clean it up as best I could, using my stockings to soak up what they could.

"I'd better go change," Phil said, and walked to the back room.

Gordon and I looked at each other. I lowered my eyes to his crotch and smiled. He followed me and saw the small dark patch on his jeans.

"Damn," he muttered, "We better get back to the car before I make a real mess. I don't think you'd better put your shoes on: they're liable to get sticky. Here, put these on."

He opened the box with the wedges and handed them to me. I slipped them on and tightened the velcro straps. With my pants legs pulled down, the dark blue fabric of the shoe almost blended with the black fishnet. Anyone paying attention to my shoes could tell something wasn't right. But at that moment, I didn't care. My mind was on overload. I felt like the mall slut...and I wanted that feeling. My heart was pounding and I was hornier than I had been in months.