The Excursion -- Part II

His position on the floor, kneeling as he was over the stool, left him feeling very exposed. Despite the lipstick kisses he had placed on Mistress Angela's feet, the unique and very special taste of a woman's lipstick was still with him, his mouth slick with color. He was still wearing the brassiere, but his new panties had been removed only minutes before so that Mistress Christy could "prep" him for the shopping trip. Yes, the three of them were going shopping, something he both craved and dreaded. He knew the ladies would humiliate him, taking advantage of his fetish for the things femme with which they would soon be surrounded. The plug Mistress Christy had inserted into him left him a bit wobbly, its girth filling him to capacity. She had him stand so he could be fitted with a slender retaining harness to hold the plug in place for the duration. Once attached, the harness would ensure he remained fully "occupied"; no amount of movement or contortion would allow the anal plug to slip from its assigned cavity. He felt so used, such a playtoy, nothing more. Between the plug and the genital binding, the subtle tightness of the brassiere around his chest, and the taste of lipstick on his mouth, he was nothing more than a common possession, and he could feel the emotion rising within him.

Mistress Angela read his mind. She moved closer to him, sandwiching him between herself and Christy. She reached into his bra and toyed with his nipples, whispering to him, "You feel it, don't you, slave?" He whimpered slightly and whispered affirmatively as Angela continued her nipple play, increasing the pressure between her long fingernails. Christy grabbed his hips and ground herself into his backside as Angela continued her wordplay, still just barely a whisper. "Who do you belong to, slave? Who owns you?" She paused for effect, and smiled, applying more pressure on his nipples. "Go ahead, tell us."

"You do, Mistress. I belong to you to do with as you please." The response was whispered, his eyes beginning to moisten not from pain, but from the emotion associated with the realization of his devotion to her. He was where he was supposed to be, doing what he was destined to do.

Mistress Angela twisted his nipple, hard. Her voice returned to normal volume, but it was no less seductive. "Good," she said, "let's get dressed and do a little shopping, shall we?"

It wasn't as though what they did to him in the mall was all that severe. It was the way they did it. They headed straight for the exclusive little lingerie shop as soon as they arrived, and Mistress Christy was soon off to inspect the merchandise. The shop was filled with women -- not another male was in sight. Mistress Angela moved slowly through the store, not stopping at any counter in particular, taking-in the totality of the wares they had to offer. The slave stayed close to her side, as he had been trained. One item, though, in particular, caught his attention. A corset. Not just any corset, mind you, but one that was specifically designed to cinch the waist severely, almost a caricature of foundation garments made and worn in the previous century. It was made entirely of pink satin, with numerous stiff, unforgiving stays that would force the wearer into an exaggerated hourglass silhouette. It was almost hidden in the store, displayed as it was near the back, next to boxes filled with panties ready to be put on display.

Mesmerized as he was with this punishment corset, he didn't notice that Mistress Angela had moved on to another counter. His attention waned for just a moment, but it was enough for Angela to notice. It was as if she had erotic radar. Talking with the saleslady, she noticed his lack of attention in the corner of her eye, and made note of it. Suddenly, she spun around on her heel and spoke to him in a loud voice. "Get over here! I thought I told you never to wander away!" Everyone -- every single woman in the shop -- heard her and turned to look at him. Some of the women realized what was happening...those were the ones that smirked. He moved quickly to return next to her side, but Angela simply continued her barrage, making sure those nearby could hear every word she said. "Well, what were you looking at, anyway? Were you staring at that corset? Is that something you think you need to wear?" He blushed furiously, pleading with his eyes for mercy.

Christy walked over and immediately saw the opportunity to join in the fun. Her voice was at least as loud as Angela's as she went to the corset display. "Well, it is a sexy little thing," she said, feeling the boning trapped within the smooth pink satin, glancing first at Angela, then the slave, for confirmation of the obvious. "I think this is exactly what he needs for a little discipline, don't you?"

The saleslady, a young ingenue of no more than twenty, was well aware of what was unfolding in the scene before her. "We have this particular item in his size, if you wish to see it," she said to Angela, making no attempt to lower her voice. Angela quickly took her up on her offer, adding that perhaps one size smaller would be more appropriate to the situation. By this time, a number of customers made certain to browse in this particular area of the shop, eager to witness what was about to transpire. For a second, the slave felt as though he were in a Smith-Barney commercial (only this time, the venue was an exclusive lingerie shop), with everyone around him breathlessly waiting to see and hear what would happen next. He knew she was showing him off. It was all some terribly bizarre female bonding ritual, he was certain. Mistress Angela was silently sharing him with all those women. How many women were there? Ten?

He didn't dare look.

It was only minutes, but the saleslady brought a box from the back, carefully opening it to reveal the satin garment within. "Yes," Angela said thoughtfully as she examined the fabric and boning. "Yes, I think this will do nicely, don't you?" Christy agreed. "We should make him wear it now," she added, eager to add to his humiliation. The saleslady thought that was a wonderful idea, offering one of the fitting rooms for them to use.

It was a struggle. A struggle, indeed. But Mistress Angela was able to cinch the slave into the horrible bondage corset, pulling and tugging and stretching until the slave's waist was severely cinched. He could barely breathe, but then, that was the whole point, wasn't it? Having paid for the corset, as well as quite a nice supply of panties for all three of them, the slave was only too eager to leave the mall and head back to Angela's. He found it difficult to move, and he was certain that everyone in the mall knew of his most embarrassing situation. It wasn't just the corset, mind you, that made him walk with such difficulty. He was in a continual state of arousal, and it showed. And the anal plug was definitely taking its toll on him. Thank goodness for the retention harness, he thought. His Mistresses were not at all interested in ending their shopping excursion so soon, however. They continued to shop... a dress for him, with stockings and high heels; a hat for Christy; a new purse for Angela. By this time, of course, the Mistresses were getting a little hungry. This called for a quick bite to eat at an upscale restaurant attached to the mall. A quick bite to eat for them, of course, not for the slave. Angela had different ideas.

As they approached the restaurant, Angela whispered something to Christy. Christy's eyes grew wide as Angela relayed her idea. Finally, she clapped her hands with glee, looked Angela straight in the eye and said, "Let's do it!" They both looked at him, evil grins spreading across their faces as they contemplated the possibilities.

Angela broke the silence, her stare never leaving his eyes. "Yes, let's do it, shall we?"