The Lesbian Debt (Chapter 21) – Underwear Shopping


Introduction:
Laura, a lesbian, has been blackmailed into taking part in what is ostensibly a hetero conversion therapy. However, its real purpose goes far beyond that…

Chapter 21
UNDERWEAR SHOPPING

At lunch Laura left work at the Department, and on her way to the Pretty Titty she decided to go underwear shopping. She had given the last of her own underwear to Alistair yesterday, so today she had confiscated Erica’s underwear drawer. She had no intention of replacing Erica’s clothes – it would do her girlfriend good to go around with a bare snatch and unsupported melons for a bit – but Laura wanted more for herself.
She picked out a lingerie store called Claire’s Boutique, decorated in a pink motif, and with a pretty brunette behind the counter too young to be Claire herself.

Indeed, she was not. “Hi, I’m Bethany,” the girl said. “How can I help you today?” If she could tell that Laura had rubbed cum into her face that morning she gave no sign of it.

“I’m after five pairs of bra and panties,” Laura said.

“Of course. Do you know your measurements?”

Laura gave them.

“Cup size?” asked the attendant.

“34DD,” said Laura, blushing. She hated having to admit how big her breasts were.

Then, the next thing Laura knew, she was naked except for her collar, alone, in a changing cubicle. What had happened? She started to panic. How had she got here?

With a sinking heart she started to remember. The girl – (the slut, she corrected herself) – Bethany had started to pick out underwear, but Laura had vagued out. She had started to picture Bethany naked, licking Laura’s cunt, drinking Laura’s piss, being fucked by a man, having sperm licked from her snatch by Laura. Laura had lost touch with the real world and entered a kind of sleepwalking state until she’d woken up…. here.

Laura’s pussy was wet. Oh god, had she done something embarrassing? Had she masturbated in public? Had she at least waited till she was in the changeroom to undress? There were a range of lingerie items here for her to try on. They were all incredibly slutty. Had Bethany selected them or were they Laura’s idea?

A voice sounded from outside the stall. It was Bethany’s. “Everything okay?” It sounded breezy and cheerful. It gave Laura hope she hadn’t behaved like a total whore.

“Fine” Laura replied, trying to match Bethany’s tone. Laura had never had a blackout like this before, although it reminded her of the way her thinking altered when she took her drugs. It alarmed her but she knew she had been stressed, drugged and sleeping poorly for weeks now. She was lucky she hadn’t fainted entirely.

Laura looked at the underwear waiting for her dubiously and selected the least slutty pair. It was a pink satin bra and panties – sexy, but not overly revealing. She had come here for a reason and she still needed new underwear, so she tried them on.

The panties fit fine, if snugly, but the bra was too tight. She was able to snap the clasp together in back but it crushed her large breasts and made it hard to breathe. She made a noise of discomfort.

“How does it fit?” called Bethany from outside.

“It’s too tight,” Laura said. “The bra, I mean.”

“Too tight where?” asked Bethany.

“Across the bust,” said Laura. And then yelped as electric shocks went off in her neck and cunt. To her horror she felt her bladder loosening and only just managed to avoid pissing in the store panties.

“Sorry, where?” asked Bethany. “I didn’t catch that.”

Laura panicked. “Bust” was a forbidden word, it seemed. So was breasts, boobs, tits, udders and, she guessed, bosom. She searched for a word the collar might accept that wouldn’t get her kicked out of the store.

“Across my funbags,” she said, and sighed with relief when there was no shock. “My funbags don’t fit in the cups.” There was a little buzz in the collar at this, but no shock.

There was silence for a moment, then Bethany said “I’ll find you the next cup size up.”

A moment later a new bra was thrown over the cubicle partition, and when Laura tried it on she found that it fit.

“Better? Are your boobs okay?” asked Bethany.

“My funbags are fine,” said Laura, and then had to choke down a scream as the collar shocked her neck and twat again. This time Laura DID lose control of her bladder, and could only stand in horror as she felt herself piss into the pink satin panties.

What happened? she thought, as thd panties became warm and wet against her snatch. She hadn’t been shocked when she said funbags before.

She remembered the little buzz on the second time she said it. Maybe it was a warning. Maybe some words expired if she said them too often. Maybe she was supposed to rotate words and keep a wide vocabulary.

None of this helped her now. The panties were soaked through and piss was drizzling from her crotch onto the tiled floor of the cubicle. She was finally able to regain control of her bladder but not before she was standing over a small pool of urine.

Laura was horrified. The panties had to go back to the store, and she couldn’t hand them back soaked in piss. And Bethany would notice if she left a puddle of urine on the floor.

“Do you want to show me if it fits?” Bethany was asking.

“No, I’m okay. I’m going to try on the other ones,” Laura said, desperate to keep Bethany away. She had to get rid of the piss. She hurriedly pulled the panties off and hung them gingerly from a hanger by a dry end. They weren’t too bad – the wetness was mostly confined to the crotch. But what was she to do about the pool of piss?

She cast about for something to mop it up with, but the only cloth in the room were her clothes, piled in a corner where she had presumably taken them off, and the underwear. She would have to wear the clothes out of the shop, and could hardly use them as a piss rag, and the store’s underwear were out for similar reasons. If Laura had worn her own underwear into the store she could have used that to sop up the urine, but of course Alistair had confiscated it this morning.

How was she going to get rid of the urine? She wished Erica was here. She could just make Erica lick it up….

Laura felt her stomach sink. That was, of course, what she was going to have to do. There was nothing absorbent in the cubicle. The only way she could make the piss vanish was by licking it up.

She didn’t want to, of course. It was disgusting. But she knew she could do it. After all, she’d made Erica drink her piss, and Erica had managed it. If her stupid slut girlfriend could do it, then Laura could too.

She took off the bra, because she was going to have to get on all fours and she didn’t want the store bra to get wet. This left her completely naked, and in this state she sank to the ground, in a crawling position like a dog. There wasn’t much room in the cubicle, but there was just enough. She felt her thighs pressed together in this kneeling position, and the word “feminist” suddenly went through her head. Entirely without thinking about it, Laura flinched, and parted her legs a little. Then she lowered her head to the pool of piss, and began to lick.

It tasted sour and wet and at first Laura gagged. But she wasn’t going to admit that she couldn’t do something which Erica had managed, and so she stuck with it, extending her tongue and running it along the cubicle floor to gather all the urine. Her tits occasionally brushed the ground and came away damp from the piss. She crawled around a bit to get in new positions to clean it all up, keeping her knees at least a litlte apart at all times.

When she finally finished, she raised herself up in a kneeling position. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror – naked, big-titted, pink-haired, kneeling with her legs apart and her nipples damp with piss. As clear as day, she fantasised she could see the words “good slut!” superimposed on the mirror, and suddenly she was aware that her cunt was again dripping wet. She blushed, and staggered to her feet. How had she gotten aroused from licking up piss? It had tasted awful and felt terrible. But there was no denying that her pussy was dripping. She touched it, and gasped at how good it felt, before jerking her hand away. She knew if she started playing with herself she might not be able to stop, and she had been quite slutty enough for one day.

“Do they fit?” Bethany asked, and suddenly Laura remembered that she was supposed to be trying on the other underpants.

“Um, still trying!” she said, and began to hurriedly try on the rest of the sets picked out for her.

As she had seen before, the remaining lingerie was all very slutty, but still she put each one on to check. She needed to get out of the shop and get to the strip club – she didn’t have time to pick out more choices, especially as she didn’t know how long her blackout had been. She would have to try these and buy them if they remotely fit. They only needed to last until Alistair saw them anyway.

The first pair was little more than string. The crotch of the the panties vanished between her labia and ass cheeks, and the bra looked more like tit bondage than something designed for support. In the mirror she looked like a total rapetoy. “Obedient bitch”, said her mind, and her twat got even wetter.

The second had cut-out windows for her twat and nipples and offered no concealment. (“Good cunt”, said the mirror.) The third was sexy but concealing, but it had the words “use me” stencilled on the bra cups and the crotch. (“Well-behaved fucktoy”, said the mirror.) And the fourth was a half-cup bra that stopped short of her nippes, and a tassle that appeared to clip onto her labia rather than panties. (“You were made for raping”, she thought, and was aware that cunt juices were now dribbling down her inner thigh.)

None of the bras fit properly – they were all too small, and hurt – but Laura didn’t have time to ask for a more appropriate size for these ones. They would have to do. She wondered why they didn’t fit, and guessed that maybe the level of arousal she had been in had made her tits swell or become engorged. She was mortified to think her tits were even bigger than they had been but could do nothing about it.

She changed through each of the outfits as quickly as possible without really thinking about them, and then dressed in her work clothes, and went to the counter, where Bethany was waiting.

“Those are all fine,” Laura said. “I’ll buy them.”

“Okay, just pass them to me and I’ll ring them up,” said Bethany.

Laura froze. She couldn’t do that. “No, they’re fine as they are,” she said.

“I’m afraid I need to see them,” said Bethany, “or I can’t disengage the anti-theft.”

Beginning to blush a deep red, Laura handed the bundle of underwear over to Bethany. She had been expecting to be humiliated by the piss-wet panties, but she hadn’t realised it was worse than that. As Bethany began to poke through the pile, her face changing steadily into an expression of horror and disgust, Laura realised that EVERY pair of panties was wet, right where they had come into contact with her sopping wet twat. She had just handed Bethany a pile of underwear soaked with her cunt honey.

“God,” said Bethany, wrinkling her nose. “What have you DONE to these?”

“I’m sorry,” said Laura, wishing she could just run away. “I’ll pay for them, okay?”

Bethany was clearly revolted by Laura. “You’d better. Pass me your card.”

Laura passed across her credit card and stood, fidgeting, while Bethany processed it. There was a long delay, and then a noise Laura recognised – the noise of her card being declined.

Her heart sank. Of course there wasn’t the money to buy expensive lingerie on her card. She had paid her blackmailer as much as she was able, and she was at the end of her public service pay cycle. She couldn’t afford this lingerie.

Bethany was looking at the card in horror. “What the fuck?” she said. “Do you have another card?”

Laura felt herself starting to cry. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I don’t have the money.”

Bethany held up the wet panties. “These can’t be resold, you know? They’re going to come out of my paycheck. I can’t afford these either, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Laura repeated. She was just glad there was no one else in the shop.

Bethany realised the same thing – that they were alone. She walked quickly around the counter, grabbed Laura’s arm, and pulled her back to the changerooms, still holding the wet panties and bras.

“You will be sorry,” she hissed, pushing Laura into the changeroom violently. Laura hit the back wall hard and stayed there, pressed against it, shocked. What was happening?

Bethany pulled the door shut behind the two of them, and then slapped Laura across the face. Laura gasped.

“I can’t afford these, you slut,” spat Bethany. “I was going to buy my girlfriend a present this week but I can’t if I have to waste money on these instead. What did you do with them? Did you piss on them?”

Laura’s breath was catching now in little half-sobs. “I was – I was wet. My” – she almost said vagina and then remembered her collar – “my sluthole was wet.”

“Gross,” said Bethany. “Ugh, what a slut.” She paused, and then said, “Show me.”

Laura didn’t know what to do. She lifted her skirt and displayed her nude, wet cunt to Bethany.

Bethany looked at it for a couple of seconds, expressionless. Laura didn’t know what she was thinking. Bethany had said she had a girlfriend. Did she like girls? Did she like cunts? Did she like Laura’s cunt?

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Bethany said after a minute. “You’re going to steal all this underwear. That way it comes out of shop breakage, rather than my pay. And if I get asked questions I’ll say it was probably that big-titted pink-haired slut who stole it, and the police can come investigate you.”

“No,” said Laura.

“Yes,” said Bethany, “So you’d better hope no one notices. And because you’re a thief, you can’t just walk out with it all in your arms. You’ll have to hide it.”

She wadded up the first pair of panties – the ones Laura had pissed in – in her hand. Laura didn’t understand what she meant, until Bethany reached down and started pushing the panties up Laura’s snatch. Laura squealed in surprise. She started to close her legs to stop Bethany, but then she again thought “feminist”, and flinched, and relaxed her legs to let Bethany access her pussy. She didn’t want Bethany touching her there, but at the same time she didn’t want to close her legs.

When the first pair of panties had disappeared up Laura’s twat, Bethany repeated it with the second and the third, and fourth and fifth, and then started on the bras. Four of the five bras had no underwire, and easily vanished up Laura’s pussy. By now Laura’s pussy was achingly full. It hurt and Laura thought she couldn’t have closed her legs all the way even if she wanted to.

The fifth bra had underwire and simply wouldn’t fit into Laura’s twat safely even if Bethany was prepared to hurt Laura (which she was). Bethany thought for a moment, and then vaniished to the front counter and came back with a clothespeg. She took one of the rear straps of the bra, reached behind Laura, and pushed it into her asshole. Laura squealed again but offered no resistance as Bethany stuffed as much fabric as possible tightly into Laura’s butt. She then brought the remainder of the bra between Laura’s legs, so that one cup rested against her taint and the other against her cunt, and used the clothespeg to clip the other strap to Laura’s clitoris. Laura squeaked again. It hurt – a lot. But the bra was now positioned so that if Laura was careful to avoid releasing it from her anus it would not show beneath Laura’s skirt.

Bethany looked at what she had achieved. “Good slut,” she said, and Laura felt her cunt start moistening again at the words. She knew everything inside her was going to be soaked in her arousal. She momentarily pictured herself wearing the cunt-honey soeaked underwear, and the words “obedient bitch” appeared over her mental picture and she got even wetter.

“One more thing,” said Bethany. Her face was flushed now and Laura realised the sales girl was aroused. She felt Bethany’s hands on her her shoulders, pushing her down, and Laura obediently knelt in front of Bethany. She could guess what was coming, and was not surprised when Bethany lifted her skirt and pushed aside her pretty white panties to show her shaved twat.

“Lick me,” Bethany said, her voice heavy with lust, and Laura did. It wasn’t the first time Laura had been forced to lick a stranger’s pussy, and she thought Bethany was prettier than Candy even if her pussy wasn’t as nice-tasting as Candy’s strawberry-flavoured fuckhole. She parted Bethany’s labia with her fingers and lapped obediently at the wet pink flesh inside. It didn’t feel right at first but then Bethany started to moan, and her hands came down to grip Laura’s hair tightly, and suddenly it felt correct and natural for Laura to be doing this. Laura’s pussy gushed with desire and suddenly the pain in her clitoris felt good and sexy. Laura moaned sluttily into Bethany’s twat as she ran her tongue over the shopgirl’s clit and probed up her whore-tunnel.

By the time Bethany finally orgasmed, Laura’s face was glistening with Bethany’s whore-nectar. She looked up at Bethany for approval, and saw that Bethany was very satisfied with the licking she had received. The girl had relaxed her grip on Laura’s hair and was now stroking it almost affectionately.

“Thank you,” mumbled Laura into Bethany’s pussy. “Thank you for stuffing my clothes up my cockholster. Thank you for making me lick your twat.”

Bethany didn’t seem to hear, still lost in the pleasure of orgasm.

“Can I go?” Laura asked in a small voice.

Bethany remembered where she was, looked down at Laura, and changed her expression to one of disgust. She backed away quickly, rearranging her skirt and panties to look more appropriate.

“Yes, get out of here,” she spat. “You’re a disgusting whore and if you ever come back here again I’ll call the police.”

Laura staggered to her feet, her cunt still stuffed with the underwear, her face wet with Bethany’s arousal, and staggered out of the store.

She felt dirty and humiiliated but she tried to focus on the good points. She had just obtained a week’s worth of underwear for free, after all.

She waddled with her cunt stuff through the mall until she found a store that offered free shopping bags. She bought a stick of gum with the change in her purse, asked for a bag with it, and then hurried to the women’s toilets, where she was able to pull the lingerie out of her twat and move it to the bag. As she had feared, it was practically dripping with her internal juices, but it was probably nothing that the washing machine couldn’t fix. She unclipped the bra from her clitoris too, and pulled its other strap out of her ass.

There was something Laura needed to do, though. She went to the closest toilet stall, locked herself in, sat on the seat, and took one of the pairs of panties out of the bag. She looked at it a moment, then put in her mouth and started sucking on it. It tasted like slut. It tasted good. Moaning happily, Laura leant back on the seat, lifted her skirt, spread her legs, and masturbated to a very satisfying orgasm.

(To be continued….)


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