Mark takes control

The wine had already warmed Emma’s cheeks by the time Mark set his glass down and looked at her with that calm, deliberate expression she had come to dread and crave.

“You want this,” he said. Not a question.

Emma nodded, her pulse racing. “Yes.”

“For the next twelve hours,” Mark continued, “you don’t get to say no. Not once. Whatever I want, whatever I ask. Do you understand?”

Her breath caught in her throat, shame and excitement tangling inside her. She nodded again, more urgently this time. “Yes. I… I want that.”

The look of approval on his face made her stomach clench with need.

He crossed to the wardrobe and drew out something she hadn’t seen in years — a dress so short it looked indecent even on the hanger. The half-cup bra and the satin thong followed, laid out like tools on a workbench.

“Put them on.”

Emma obeyed, trembling fingers sliding the bra straps over her shoulders, breasts pushed up high and swollen, the pink tops of her nipples peeking above the line of the cups. The satin thong clung to her mound so thinly she could feel the dampness of her arousal already spreading. When she pulled the dress down over it all, she hardly recognised herself in the mirror, a woman made to be stared at. A slut.

Mark’s eyes lingered on her approvingly. “Perfect.”

The drive out of town was quiet except for the hum of the tyres. Emma squirmed in the passenger seat, trying not to tug her dress down any further. At one point she reached for Mark’s thigh and whispered, “Do you want me to—”

“No.”

The single word was a command, sharp enough to make her shiver. She sat back, thighs pressed tight together wrestling with a dress that wanted to expose her.

When the neon sign of the sex shop appeared on the horizon, her stomach flipped.

Inside, the place smelled of latex and leather. Shelves stacked with toys and racks of DVDs stretched in every direction. But Emma only noticed the people: the way their eyes followed her, tracking the curve of her breasts, the line of her bare thighs beneath the dress. Her skin burned under their gaze. She wanted to hide, but she also felt herself growing wetter with each step.

Mark guided her toward the back, his hand firm on the small of her back, as though she might bolt. At the far end, a row of curtained booths waited. He opened one and motioned her inside.

The space was dim, anonymous. A chair, a shelf, nothing else. Emma turned in a slow circle, her pulse hammering.

Mark closed the curtain behind them. “Stand there,” he instructed, pointing to the wall.

She obeyed.

“Lift your dress, just a little.”

Emma’s cheeks flamed as she gathered the hem and tugged it upward, baring the thin satin stretched over her mound. She could feel the wetness soaking the fabric, could imagine how she must look: trembling, exposed, waiting.

Mark stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. “They can see you, you know. If they wanted to, they could be watching through the cracks right now. Imagining you’re theirs.”

Emma gasped, knees almost buckling. Shame surged through her, but so did a deep, uncontrollable throb of arousal.

The first touch brought a gasp from her, fingers poked through the hole and ran over the smooth satin mound, Emma whispered to Mark "Someone's touching me through the hole" he said nothing and she stayed in place, the fingers were probing and she felt the elastic of her G-string being pulled to the side, her flesh was open to whoever wanted to play with it.

For what felt like an hour, strangers toyed with her. Some touched her lightly, some were not gentle, on more that one occasion she felt something hard rub against the inside of her thighs and then a wetness which dripped down her legs, she felt probing and was sure at one state she heard a woman's voice at the other side then what felt like a tongue dance along her wet slit.

Every moment of stillness made her ****. She felt herself come apart more than once, stifling moans, terrified that someone outside might hear — and secretly praying they would. She was held on the cusp of ecstasy but it was frustratingly just out of reach.

Eventually Mark spoke, "Turn and face me" Emma's legs were shaking so badly she could hardly stand but did what she was told.

“bend over,” he said softly.

Her first instinct was to hesitate — but the reminder of the rules sent a jolt through her. She bent at the waste and put her hands on his thighs.

"Pull your dress up at the back " He ordered and her eyes went wide, "but, my pussy is at the hole what happens if..."

Mark raised an eyebrow and Emma complied "Now suck my cock",

Her hands shook as she reached undid Mark's black trousers and freed his hard cock, she opened her mouth and tasted him, the weight of him against her tongue, drove her deeper into her role. Humiliation and arousal blurred together until she could hardly breathe.

Then pressure, Emma could feel something pushing at the thin fabric of the G-string, and then past it, she let out a moan, there was no mistaking what was happening, as the cock entered her and pushed itself deep. The idea of the unknown owner filled her with pleasure and her head bobbed in time with the thrusts behind her, quickly it was over, she felt liquid drip out of her and an emptiness.

She was so close, just one or two more thrusts and she would have been there, the next one gave no warning and thrust deeper into her she was pushed hard against Marks cock and gaged as it entered her throat, he pushed her shoulders back and held her in place and she was used again.

The orgasm was quick and wonderful, she the pleasure was heightened by the gift in her mouth that Mark gave her, then her stranger friend.

For a moment she could do nothing but collapse against Mark dizzy, her whole body trembling, a mix of strangers fluids dripping out of her body.

Mark helped her to her feet and adjusted her dress but only a little. Her nipples still pressed against the thin fabric, her thighs still glistened with evidence of her actions.

As they walked back through the shop, heads turned openly. Mark leaned close and murmured, “Pull your top down.”

Emma obeyed. Her breasts swelled into view, her flushed skin bare her pink nipples hard for everyone to see. She caught the hungry stares of the men, and instead of shrinking away, she lifted her chin and let them look.

By the time they reached the car, her smile was wide and breathless.

On the drive home, she turned to him. “Can you… can you take control again soon please?”

Mark only smiled, his silence more powerful than any promise.