The Supermarket – A Daray Tale

I expect the irritation in I hear in his voice. I picture him, pushing back from his desk, straightening the pile of papers he always keeps to his left, taking off his glasses and setting them atop the pile before he begins absently rubbing the tension from his temples, the dark hair there shot through with streaks of silver. It’s nearly eleven and he’s still at the office. Not an unusual occurrence for Dar, but one that, unless I am similarly busy with work, fair or not, upsets me. I consider myself an independent woman, but I love and perhaps worse, I crave, Dar with an intensity I never imagined existed and his absence from my daily life can leave me feeling adrift and neglected.

“I’m busy, Tess, so no, I haven’t had a chance to check my email yet,” he says in reply to my query, frustration bleeding into his tone.

“I’m sure you could use a five minute break. When did you last look up?”

“Really, Tess, it’s late and I’d like to finish up here before today becomes tomorrow.”

“Dar, five minutes of your time. For me. Please. You won’t be sorry.”

“Fine, as long as you know that if I am, you will indeed be very sorry when I see you.”

“When is it ever anything but, love? Now, please, just check your email.”

I hear his fingers tapping at his keyboard and he sighs as he looks at his screen.

This is what he see’s when he clicks on my email.

I did a little shopping. Well, a little shopping for a lot of money. I now owe Kiki DiMontparnesse a small fortune. I think it was worth it. I hope you agree. The items you see below are all I’m wearing now. And the rosary. And a hot pink trench coat. And heels, of course, always heels.

In my mind I can see him straighten in his chair, his back more erect, his gaze focused on the screen in front of him, his eyebrow arching slightly as he shifts in his seat, knowing that he now has an erection which makes him suddenly uncomfortable. I hear him inhale and than the thin, whistle of an exhalation fills my ear before he speaks.

“Where are you, bitch?”

“Not far. I’m at the Gristede’s about two blocks from your office. Can you get here quickly, Dar? The stock boy is staring at me, it’s making me a bit uncomfortable,” I say disingenuously, knowing that if the appeal to his huge and unquenched sexual appetite fails, he will never fail to protect me from a perceived danger. Of course, being dishonest with Dar has it risks, but tonight I am prepared to take them.

“Stay where you, Tess. I’m on my way. And while I am coming, let’s be clear, I am not pleased with this interruption.”

“I hope to make you very pleased tonight, Dar,” I say. Somehow his displeasure doesn’t bother me; even the thought of him punishing me makes me so wet I find myself squeezing my thighs tightly together, closing my eyes as the sensation centered in my clit flows through my entire body, making me shiver.

He hangs up without another word and I get a cart and slowly push it along through the produce aisle, adding items without paying much attention. All I can think about is seeing him in front of me and slowly untying the belt of my coat, then the two buttons that hold it together and watching his eyes, those dark eyes I’ve drowned in so many times, fill with a fire that I hope will scorch us both. Being burned by Dar is not new to me; it’s part of his allure and I know no matter how frightened he may make me at some primal level I completely trust him. I decide to open the buttons of my coat, so that all I have to do is open my belt for Dar to see the delicately beautiful undergarments I have on. The waist cincher exaggerates my hourglass figure, the elbow length gloves feel decadent as they encase my arms in the softest leather and the fragile antique rosary, Dar’s gift to me month’s ago, dangles between my breasts, the bottom of the cross almost touching my navel.

Suddenly the stock boy does appear, most of the produce has been put away for the evening, it’s close to closing, but he begins stacking the last items that need to go in the giant fridge in the back onto a large metal cart. I walk past him and feel his eyes on the opening of my coat. I know that he sees the garter and the top of my stockings and my bare thigh above it as I walk past him. I give him a sideways smile and he blushes. He could be anywhere from seventeen to twenty-two, a tall gangly boy that looks as though he needs to grow into his body. His jeans hang low but are thankfully held up by a cheap bondage belt, no doubt from the local Hot Topic, the part of his t-shirt visible beneath his white work coat seems to portray some heavy metal type band. To me, he seems a complete innocent.

“Hm, can I, can I help you find anything,” he says, looking not at me, but at the floor.

“No, no, but thank you,” I reply and smile.

“If I already but away something you need, I could go and get it for you,” he says, eyes still fixed on his Doc Martens.

“That’s so sweet, but no, you don’t need to go to any trouble for me. I’ve got what I need,” I say and then I see Dar. Compared to this waif of a boy, tall though he may be, Dar seems even bigger than his six foot three.

“Flirting, Tess,” he states. It’s not a question but a foregone conclusion.

“No, love, he was just asking if he could help,” I reply. I’m a bit apprehensive now, and I struggle to keep that out of my voice, not wanting to have this poor boy in the center of Dar’s formidable wrath. Even though I am concentrating on dispelling the situation, I can’t help but take Dar in. His long dark cashmere overcoat is unbuttoned revealing one of his custom made suits, his shirt is open at the neck, and I know his tie, removed after the rest of the staff had gone, is folded and tucked neatly into the sleek briefcase he carries. I feel my cunt twitch, he could be dressed as he is in, in his soaked sweats after a run or in jeans and a polo shirt and the effect is the same on me. He never fails to arouse me, to make me want to taste his lips, nip at that sweet spot on his neck, let my tongue drift slowly down his torso, torn between watching his eyes and watching his cock grow and harden.

“Isn’t there something you wanted to show me,” he says in that steady even tone that betrays no emotion.

I start to answer but that he has turned the situation around on me so deftly, without pause, shocks me into silence, yet I feel my panties get damper contemplating giving both Dar and this young man a little show.

I step back, move to the side of the cart, and like no sane New Yorker would do, leave my handbag in the child seat of the cart as my excitement and my gloved hands slow what should be a simple process of untying my belt. Finally, I let the ends slip from my hands, as my fingers grip each edge, I struggle deciding whether I want to pull them together or spread them apart shamelessly. I decide to wait for Dar’s instructions.

He looks away from me and hold the stock boy in his dark gaze.

“What’s your name,” he asks.

“Tad, my name is Tad,” he answers.

“How old are you, Tad?”

“I’ll be nineteen in three months,” says Tad, with a hint of pride in his advanced age.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she, Tad,” asks Dar.

“Y-y-yes.”

“Would you like to see what she has under that coat?”

“We’re closing. I have to put these last things away.”

I watch Tad’s body language which combined with his evident erection betray his eagerness to complete his task.

“Is there a back door, Tad,” Dar asks.

“Yeah, but, but it just leads into a small alley. Sometimes we go back there to smoke,” he says, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Why don’t you put those things away and show us to that back door?”

“Um, okay, sure, I can do that, but first let me go to the front and tell them I’m leaving.”

When he walks away, I look at Dar and shake my head.

“What Tess? Are you going to deny how excited this makes you, bitch?”

“No, not that, but he’s just a kid. I don’t know.”

“He’s perfectly legal, Tess, you know me better than to think I’d do anything that would endanger any of us.”

He says that and I nod my agreement, but at the same time I wonder, do I, do I really think he wouldn’t put me in danger. After all, we both get off on playing with that edge, pushing it further and further. But I do know this, if that boy had been seventeen, this would not be happening. Tad is back faster than I’d imagined and I have no more time to contemplate. Dar places a palm on my shoulder as we follow him through the back of the market. He shows us the back exit and tells us to wait while he puts the produce away and gets his jacket.

Tad returns wearing a stiff leather jacket that seems two sizes too large for him and just emphasizes his thinness. He unlocks the door, sets the alarm and ushers out into the clear, cold night. The alley is close and narrow, no more than a walkway between the building next door and the market, with a little square patch of broken concrete strewn with discarded cigarette butts. A lone rusted folding chair sits in the center of the square. Dar pushes off to the side before telling Tad to sit.

“There are some rules, Tad. You can watch, but you don’t touch her or do anything that I don’t specifically tell you to do. Is that clear?”

Tad nods and Dar asks him if that’s a yes. I smirk seeing Dar treat someone else, and a man at that, as his submissive. Demanding my words when a gesture would do is standard procedure for Dar. Tad quickly says yes.

Dar turns to me and suddenly his hands are on my shoulders and my back is pressed to the cold, brick wall. It’s winter, a warm night but still only in the low forties. Dar fingers move from my shoulders to twist into my hair, making me moan audibly. I push my hips toward him, eager to feel the pressure of his leg against my cunt.

“Eager aren’t you, bitch? But not so soon,” he says. He releases my hair and tells me to take off my coat and hand it to him. Standing there in just my pretty undergarments seeing this young man’s eyes filled with amazement, shyness and lust, I feel warm despite the cold but my nipples feel the outside temperature. They strain against the thin lace of my bra and the slight friction when I move further enhances my arousal.

Dar walks over to Tad, the coat in his hand and places it over the back of the chair as Tad shifts to make sure it stays in place.

“She’s so wet, Tad. I can tell without even touching her. I can smell how wet she is. Get closer to her, Tad. See for yourself.”

Tad nearly stumbles as he approaches me on his spindly legs. He stops a foot away and Dar encourages him to get closer.

“Can you smell her arousal yet, Tad,” he asks.

Each time I hear his voice my cunt gushes. My thin panties are soaked and I can feel my juices, warm from my heated cunt, cool in the chill air as they run down my thighs.

“Yes” he answers.

“Show him your tits, bitch.”

I comply immediately, pushing my breasts out of the cups of my bra, exposing my erect nipples to the night air.

Tad watches transfixed as my breasts rise and fall with my rapid breaths. Dar stands behind him, watching, waiting for the right time to issue his next directive. All I want is Dar touching me, my body aches for him, my cunt pulses and throbs, my skin longs for the warmth of his large hands sliding up and down my body, lightly caressing me or cruelly pressing his fingers into my soft flesh.

“Touch yourself, Tess. Put your hand inside your panties and finger your cunt, but don’t touch your clit. Don’t you dare come, bitch.”

As he asked, I slide my gloved hand inside my panties, the smell of leather combines with my own scent forming an even headier aroma. I am so wet , the sound is obscene as I finger myself, my eyes close, and my head is thrown back against the wall as I succumb to my lust. Fingering myself harder and deeper, pressing another finger and then another inside myself, making the wet noises more and more pronounced.

“Enough,” Dar says decisively and I moan as I remove my soaked hand. I bring my hand to my lips but Dar shakes his head. “No,” he says, “his lips, let him know just what you taste like.”

I lean a little closer to Tad, my eyes shift from Dar’s dark eyes to Tad’s wide blue ones as I press my three middle fingers together, my thumb pressing down on my pinky, and softly rub my fingers first along his full lower lip, pause for a moment and then trace his upper lip. He makes a move to grab my wrist and Dar politely but firmly tells him no. He drops his hand back to his side immediately. I find I enjoy both his unease and his eagerness. I wonder if Dar’s sadism could be rubbing off on me.

“Do you like how she tastes, Tad?”

“Oh fuck, yes,” he replies.

“She’s such a little slut, Tad, isn’t she? A beautiful little slut. My slut,” he says walking towards me, stopping beside me, reaching over, grabbing my hair and slapping my face so hard I gasp but my body shivers with excitement.

“Y-y-you h-hit her,” Tad manages to squeak out.

“Oh yes, I did, but she likes that. Don’t you, Tess? Tell our friend that it’s okay.”

I try to keep my voice calm and level as I speak to Tad, I look into his eyes, hoping the softness and arousal in mine are conveyed, “It’s fine, Tad. I love it when he hits me. It makes me even wetter. I’m so damn wet now. So wet.”

“You can slap her, Tad. Go on, slap her face. Once, only once.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing, he’s going to let this boy, this unknown, hit me. My eyes flash at Dar’s but he looks at me without any emotion.

“I can’t do that,” Tad says. “I guess it’s cool if she likes it when you hit her, but I can’t do that. I can’t hit a girl in the face. I can’t.”

“Tess,” Dar says softly, “come here.”

Tad moves aside as I move towards Dar. “Take off my belt, slut.”

I can see my juices drying white against the black leather of my gloves as I work to open his belt and slide it through the loops. I hold out my hand with the belt to Dar, but he shakes his head, indicating Tad. Why this makes me so insanely hot, I don’t know. Maybe it’s Tad’s innocence and his hesitance, knowing that he’ll be initially averse to doing this but unlike hitting me in the face, I’d feel comfortable talking him into this. I walk back to where Tad stands, he shifting his weight from one foot to the next as if to stay warm but as I am clad only in my thinnest undergarments, I know it’s not from the cold but from nervousness. I hand him the belt, watching as he runs his long fingers along the leather length. The belt is narrow but thick. I know how much it stings.

“Do you want to taste her, Tad?”

“Yes,” he spits out. “Yes.”

“Then this is what you have to do to earn that treat. She’s going to turn around and face the wall. Then you’re going to slide her panties down her thighs, and she’ll bend over and you’ll whip her ass with that belt. She likes that too, Tad. She likes that very much. You’ll make her very wet when you spank her ass. If you do a good job, if you make her ass nice and warm and red, you can take out your cock and come all over her ass.”

“Really,” he says, sounding stunned. Frankly I’m stunned too. That Dar would let this boy jerk off on my ass is shocking to me.

“Really,” Dar says. “And then, your taste, you’ll clean her up with your tongue.”

Ah, I think, so there’s the rub. So typically Dar; for this boy to get something he wants, he’ll have to do something he’s extremely uncomfortable with. That’s Dar, a master of manipulation.

“Dude. I don’t know about that.”

“That’s the deal. There are no others.”

To emphasize what he’d be missing, Dar has me turn around and place my hands on the brick wall. My breathing is even more rapid, we’ve been in this alley too long for my taste and I’m getting nervous at being so exposed for so long. I know I can’t say anything to Dar, it wouldn’t do any good and he’d just take delight in my discomfort.

“Is it yes or no, Tad? Yes or no?”

“Ok, I’ll do it.”

“Good boy, now go and slide down her pretty panties.”

I feel his long, slim fingers slip under the lace at the side of my panties. He slides them down until they reach the tops of my garters. It’s far enough, my ass is exposed and I wiggle it at him as encouragement. Dar keeps talking, his words finally spurring Tad to action as the first slap brushes my ass.

“Harder, Tad. You can’t injure her by hitting her ass, no matter how hard.”

The next blow is indeed a blow. I can feel Tad’s confidence growing each time he hits me and I moan with pleasure. I feel the heat blooming in my ass; that familiar warmth seems to spread slowly through my entire body. I moan and shift position. Dar places his large hand on my bottom, the moon is nearly full and he doesn’t need any further light to check whether I am bruised to his satisfaction. He tells Tad to hit me a few more times and Tad does as he’s told.

Finally, he tells him he’s earned his reward and it’s only moments before I feel his come pooling all over my ass. He nearly silent as comes, restraining himself except for one large groan at the end. I move to straighten up but Dar’s hand is on my back, keeping me in position.

“Clean her up now, Tad,” he says.

I feel the cooling fluid dripping into the crack of my ass and down my right thigh. Then I feel Tad’s warm tongue laving me, concentrating on the cleft of my ass, his tongue alternately licking and than pushing into my tight bud. I press back against him, lost in the sensation, imaging him savoring our combined tastes knowing my juices have been abundant all night.

Too soon, Dar stops him with a word, “Enough,” he says, and when he turns me to face him, he’s holding my coat for me to slip into. I tie the belt tightly around my waist suddenly freezing, whether from the air or from my uncertainty as to what’s next I don’t know.

Dar’s arm is around me as he leads us out of the alley.

I suddenly feel sorry for this boy that we lured into our twisted passions. I whisper to Dar, asking if I can just kiss him goodbye. When he denies me, I am not surprised.

“Night, Tad,” he says, as we reach the sidewalk.

“Yeah, night, see you around,” says Tad, clearly still not entirely sure about how he feels about what has just transpired or perhaps even if he imagined it all.

“I didn’t expect that tonight when I lured you out of your office, love,” I say, as we turn the corner and Dar hails a cab. “I thought you’d see me and maybe you’d ravage me in the alley or in a cab on the way home or something, but I never expected that.”

“Yes, Tess, I know you didn’t. It seems sometimes suffer you under the illusion that you are in control here.”

“No, no. It’s not that.”

“Isn’t it,” he queries, arching his eyebrow. “And by the way, that waif of a boy was not making you feel uncomfortable at all was he?”

“Well..,” I start.

“Well,” he says, “It’s a good thing that I love how your breasts look covered in pretty bruises because it looks as though we are not through with my belt this evening.”

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~ by tesstorn on February 2, 2008.