“Darling, what has gotten into you?”
She was pivoted to take a picture of the large display of autumnal gourds in the giant bin in front of the grocery store and he, under the guise of a particularly passionate hug, pressed himself closer. There was always a way men changed their posture when they did that, imperceptible if you looked, but with a tilted tension that made you aware of their body line and the pull of their groin. And a scent that had no scent, that, in only a little bit of shared warmth, drew out the tight yet melting sensation of her own arousal.
Only this time there was the hard little nub of plastic poking, nudging up against her too.
“Aww, you are pretty desperate, aren’t you?” She cooed, letting her hand caress the side of her hip, even as a slight shift of her own pose made the contact with his caged cock deliberate. “What day is it?”
“It’s October 9th, Mistress.” He swallowed.
“How many days until the end of the month?”
There was a pause of mental math. “22, not counting today, Mistress.”
Her finger teased the ribbon peeking out of the collar of her sweater. She could feel the key, warmed against her skin, slide a little. “That’s a lot of time. What has you so het up?”
“I want you, Mistress.” There was both a smallness of vulnerability in the confession, but also a matter of hopefulness, as if this longing was a gift in itself. “The cage hurts. I need to edge.”
“Aww… Well, we still have to finish grocery shopping.”
He pulled away, husbanding his willpower. She smirked, aware that he was still reacting to the way she had chosen to dress on the expedition. True, she was draped in a cozy sweater, but below it, the dull shine of leather, skin tight, clinging, skirt hugging her to mid thigh, where it met a band of bare skin before her stocking tops resumed a more autumnal practicality.
“Mistress…”
“Yes, Puppy?”
“Nothing, Mistress.”
She thought for a moment, then began to pull the key over her head, handing it over. “I’ll tell you what. The grocery store has a single stall public unisex washroom by the deli. It’s pretty private. Go there and use your phone to film yourself edging, then cage back up, all on camera. You have until I am done shopping to meet me by the cash.”
He nodded took the key, and giving her one last lingering look, dashed off to complete the task, while she found and wrangled a cart.
The fresh smell of the bakery and the produce hit her nose and she began to shop. A picture hit her phone, him kneeling on tile, having placed down a couple of pieces of paper towel under his knees. She grinned. His eyes were very big, and his face flushed and embarrassed.
She let the aroused heat she felt in response suffuse her for a moment, before giggling and going back to selecting apples.
As she did the sweep of the dairy section, she glanced back at the Deli and smirked again. Not done yet. No time.
She went the rest of her zig-zag serpentine. Crackers; tea; canned goods; nutmeg; backtrack and get chicken stock; flour, nutmeg, pasta, hamburger and a lamb, sale; browsed the greeting cards; impulse bought a bulk pack of batteries; and rounded through frozen foods with peas, perogies and a pint of vanilla ice cream.
The line up wasn’t too bad, but all the queues were pretty much the same. She took one at random and let herself be carried by people momentum. He wasn’t back yet.
She shook her head. The line went at its own pace, items on the belt, scanned, points card, paid. Just before that process she texted him. “I’m leaving without you.”
She did not, in fact, do so, but lingered past the door with the cart, enjoying the string of panicked texts, before he appeared, wild eyed and spattered down with water.
“I couldn’t get it back on!” He made a gesture at his groin, helplessly. “It wouldn’t go down enough to force it.”
She chuckled. “Well, I can think of a lot of ways to punish you when we get home.”
—
Happy Locktober, readers. Did you know I now have a patreon? You should consider signing up, I have a tier as low as $3 a month!
Wow, this is very fun! I can definitely see how an, “I’m leaving without you,” text would make it hard to get a cage back on. If it ever happened to me, I would be trying my hardest to rush out of the stall. I would already be kneeling mentally by the time I reached her and would eagerly be fetching the items for correction the second I got home. I can already see myself kneeling up and presenting the items with my head lowered.
Thank you for this story!