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A note to my readers: Dear readers, thank you for your time and attention in reading my stories. I would greatly appreciate it if I could have your feedback regarding the story, the path it has taken so far, and the character development till this point. Unlike my previous stories, I would like to use your inputs as well to shape this one. Feel free to email me regarding the direction you would like the story to take from here on. I look forward to your suggestions. - Davatorian
Chapter Seven:
We reached the store just as it was about to open. This was my favorite time to shop. There were rarely any other customers and I could go about my shopping in peace. I led Aunt Rita by the hand through the entrance. Once inside, I saw her gasp and gape in astonishment at aisle after aisle of paraphernalia.
“Go on, get us a trolley. We’re going to pick up a lot of things.”
Still looking around in astonishment, she fetched a trolley and stood in front of me with it. I pointed her in a particular direction and walked behind her, my hands resting on her hips. Aunt Rita looked up to read the sign above the aisle we were about to enter.
“CANES”
She looked back at me and smiled, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I guided her into the aisle. I put my arm around her shoulder and walked along the aisle.
“Tell me, Rita, what do you see here?”
“Canes, Master. Lots and lots of canes.”
“Any ones that you fancy in particular?”
“They all look equally threatening to me, Master.” she giggled.
I picked up a cane from its stand. It was a rattan cane, about three feet long, with a short black leather handle. The surface was smooth and the tip was squared. I handed it to Aunt Rita.
“What do you think?” I asked her.
She slid her fingers along the cane and felt the tip gingerly, before handing it back to me.
“I – I don’t know. It’s just a cane, I guess.”
I smiled and took the cane from her. Holding it by the handle, I slid the tip along her neck and the exposed part of her shoulder. She broke into goosebumps and checked around her to see if anyone was watching. The store was empty.
“You went to a girls’ boarding school, didn’t you?” I asked, tapping the cane slightly on one of her neck warts. She shuddered slightly, and then nodded. I slid the cane down along her chest, and then lightly over her clothed breasts.
“Did you ever get caned by your teachers there for being naughty?”
She giggled and nodded in the affirmative.
“Well, this is the type of cane they would have used.” I said, probing slightly at where I thought her nipples would be. She jolted back slightly, and her nipples became aroused and pushed against her top. I threw the cane into the trolley, our first selection, and then put my arms around Rita and pulled her close to me. I felt her body against mine, her erect nipples pushing against my ribs.
“My Aunt Rita’s not wearing a bra right now, is she?”
Her face blushed slightly. She nodded her head. No, she wasn’t.
“And why, may I ask, is that?” I asked, tilting her face up towards mine.
She looked at me with a smile on her face, and then standing up on tiptoe, she put her arms around my neck and whispered into my ear.
“Because I want my Master to be able to feel my nipples easily if he wants to, in case he wants to reward them…or punish them…or play with them” she moved her breasts from side to side across my chest as she spoke, and I felt my manhood harden. “My Master’s given me more pleasure over the last three quarters of a day than I’ve had in the last couple of months. And I want to let him know that my whole body is at his disposal.”
I took her face in my palms and kissed her firmly on her lips.
“You’ve just earned yourself a reward, Rita. Remind me to give it to you later tonight, okay? Now come on. We need to buy some more canes.”
I walked her over to another collection, and picked up a second cane. It was slightly longer than the first one, with an octagonal cross-section, and a leather-wrapped tip with metal studs. I handed it to Rita to see what her reaction would be. She ran her fingers over the edges of the cane, and felt the metal studs at its tip. Then she looked up at me and said,
“This one’s different from the first one. What are these metal pieces at the end for?”
“To make things…how shall I put it…a bit more exciting” I replied.
Aunt Rita looked at the cane again, and I saw her bite her lower lip slightly at the thought of receiving a caning with the cane. I smiled and tossed the second cane into the trolley. I put my arm around her shoulder, and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Come on Rita. Let’s go to another section and pick up some more things.”
I led her to another aisle. I noticed her look up and read the sign above the aisle.
“RIDING CROPS”
“What are riding crops?”, Aunt Rita asked me.
“They’re used to control horses.”
“You’re going to torture me with something used to hit horses?”
“That’s the general idea.” I answered, my answer being met with a whimper.
I picked up a three foot long riding crop which was jet black in color. The handle was covered in leather and made for a very comfortable grip. The stiff but flexible shaft terminated in a four inch long black leather tongue. I called for Rita to come near me, and then I traced the outline of her cheek with the tongue of the crop. I felt my manhood harden inside my pants, and could see Aunt Rita’s breathing get deeper as she swallowed.
Throwing the first riding crop into the cart, I moved along the aisle for a second one. I picked one that was similar in length to the first, except that it was dark brown in color instead of black. The shaft was slightly more flexible than that of the first, and both the shaft and the tongue had small metal studs embedded in them. I pulled Aunt Rita close to me, so that her breasts pressed lightly against my ribs, and stroked the junction between her neck and shoulder with the shaft of the riding crop. She immediately broke into goosebumps, and I felt her nipples harden and push against my chest. She blushed and tried to move away, but I held her close. She looked away, but I placed the tongue of the crop under her chin and guided her face towards me.
“Are you scared of me, Rita?”
“No, Master.”
“Do you trust me, Rita?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl. Now go put this in the cart.”
I then led Aunt Rita to the “WHIPS” section without telling her explicitly where we were headed. She read the sign above the aisle, whimpered and clutched on to me.
“Please, Master. Must we buy whips?”
I knew that Aunt Rita had a psychological fear of whips but I didn’t know where her fear originated from (Readers, read “Rita’s One Mistake”). I had never given her a severe whipping, just a few light playful strokes on her body with a soft whip. But even then she would get terrified just at the mere sight of a whip. I had trained her to be able to endure a moderately harsh caning on her body, but she would scream and beg for mercy if I so much as approached her with a whip. I had never questioned her deeply regarding this phobia, nor had I tried to force the answer out of her through coercion. But now I resolved to learn the answer to this question before the weekend came to an end.
“Master, must we?” Aunt Rita repeated her question, her eyes wide with terror, a pleading tone in her voice.
I put my arms around her waist and massaged the small of her back.
“Yes, Rita. No dungeon is complete without whips. You know that.”
She looked at the seemingly endless aisles with whips of various types and sizes hanging in menacing shapes. I knew she would try to dissuade me from buying whips, but I wanted to see what logic she would come up with.
“But they’re so long. With all the furniture in the house, how will you be able to swing them? You’ll hit something or the other.”
I smiled inside of me. On the outside, I looked into her eyes and replied.
“I will buy two whips. And both will have short straps. They will not hit anything else, just your body.”
She shuddered as the last few words sank into her. Her attempt at logic now gave way to outright pleas for mercy. I felt along the front of her top until I came upon the bump of her left areola. Locating her left nipple, I took it between my fingers, squeezed it hard and twisted it upwards. Aunt Rita yelped and threw her head back in pain. Her body shuddered from the pain shooting through her mammaries.
“What is slavegirl’s primary function?” I asked her.
Aunt Rita looked into my eyes, her face flushed with pain, her mind racing through her training almost as fast as the fire racing through her breast
“To – to obey her Master. Aaaahhhh!!!!”
“What is the nature of her obedience?” I asked, twisting her nipple a bit further.
“Oooooooohhhhh!!!! Unconditional, Master.”
“Will slave Rita obey her Master unconditionally?”
“Yes, Master. She will. She promises to, Master.”
I released my hold on her nipple. She let out another wail as the blood rushed back into her hard-as-acorns nipple. I took her entire left breast in my hand and massaged it gently, and Aunt Rita’s features now showed a sense of relief after the fiendish agony a few moments ago.
I led her into the aisle. I already knew exactly what whips I wanted. I picked up a black cat-o’-nine-tails. It had relatively short straps, but a nice leathery feel to it. I pulled the straps tight, swung the whip a few times through the air, and then draped it around Aunt Rita’s shoulders. She shuddered at the feel of the leather against her skin, and looking at her face, I saw that she had broken into a sweat. I rubbed her nipples gently to reassure her, and picked up a second whip. It had a single strap, about a meter in length, attached to a flexible wooden handle, ideal for use in a confined space. I swung the whip, and the tip of the strap gave a crack that echoed down the aisle, immediately followed by a whimper from Aunt Rita. I draped the second whip around her neck.
“Go on. Put those in the cart.”
She obeyed in silence. When she returned, I took her in my arms, stroked her hair and looked into her eyes.
“Next, we’re going to the surprise section.”
Aunt Rita, like most other women, loved surprises, and her face, full of anxiety a moment ago, lit up with excitement.
“What’s that Master?”
“Well, up to this moment, you saw exactly what I bought. There’s no surprise element in that. That’s why we’re going to the surprise section.”
We walked towards the far aisles. Aunt Rita walked to the left of me, pushing the cart along. My arm was around her body, my fingers gently stroking the side of her left breast, a continuation of the massage to alleviate the pain from the nipple torment I had caused her a few minutes ago.
We entered the surprise section, a collection of aisles where all the items were packed in plain white boxes. No labels, no names, no description, just an abbreviated sequence of alphabets on the side of each box. Each alphabetic sequence was a code for a particular item, codes that I could recall from memory, but which Aunt Rita had no clue about.
“How can you tell what you’re buying?”
I pointed to the codes, and then to my head.
“But I don’t know what they are!” Aunt Rita complained.
“If you did, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise would it?” I said, pinching her breast softly between my fingers and eliciting a giggle.
I started from one end of the aisle, picking up boxes, checking their codes and handing them over to Aunt Rita, who deposited them in the cart.
NCCP: Nipple clamps, clothespin type
NCT: Nipple clamps, tweezer-type
NCCL: Nipple clamps, clover-type
NCC: Nipple clamps, C-type
NCCLW: Nipple clamps, clover-type with weights
NCAC: Nipple clamps, alligator-type with chain
VNCAE: Vibrating nipple clamps, alligator-type, electro
“Master, how many surprises am I going to get?” Aunt Rita asked in astonishment.
“Actually, quite a few more.” I replied, walking to the next section. “Here, take these.”
WW: Wartenberg wheel
BMO: Breast massage oil
HWTS: Hot wax torture set
IR: Interrogation rope
SG: Studded glove
PB: Pain bra
EB: Electric baton
GPV: General purpose vibrator
LIT: Lactation inducing tablets
PNET: Prolonged nipple erection tablets
MST: Mammary sensitization tablets
“There, Rita. That’s the lot.”
I looked at her as she put the last few boxes into the almost overflowing cart.
“Master, you sure have big plans for me over the rest of the weekend.” Rita joked.
I gave her a kiss on her neck and led her towards the check-out counter. It took some time loading all the equipment into the trunk of my car, but finally I was in the driver’s seat, and Aunt Rita buckled herself into the passenger’s seat next to me. I looked at her and smiled, and she smiled back.
“I didn’t hurt your nipple too much, did I Rita?” I asked, flicking her left nipple with my fingers over her clothing.
She fidgeted slightly, but then relaxed and nodded her head to say no.
“You know, you have very sensitive nipples for a woman your age, Rita. But even then you withstood my pinch very well. I know for a fact that many younger women would simply have passed out.”
She giggled.
“What would you have done if I had passed out in your arms?”
“Simple,” I said, passing my fingers to her right nipple and flicking it, in turn, “I would have squeezed your other nipple till you came to again.”
Aunt Rita blushed, and then burst out into laughter, as did I. She leaned over to me and gave me a firm kiss on my cheek.
“I love being your slave, Master. I just love it.”
“You’re a wonderful slave to have for any Master, Rita.” I said, locking lips with her passionately.
We parted lips, and I started the engine and pulled away.
“We’re going to be home just in time for lunch, Rita. You’d better make something nice, I’m pretty hungry. And once we’re done with lunch, we can gradually get started with all the stuff we bought today.”
She took my hand and placed in on her pants, over her vagina.
“Yes Master. With pleasure.”
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