Controlled in the Market

by Fiora Greene

  Controlled in the Market

  A Pet Panties Tale

  Copyright 2012 Fiora Greene

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, or events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, alive or dead, is completely coincidental.

  ****

  The wind that tickled Jenna's long dark strands was sweet, fresh, and with a hint of the salt from the ocean. It was gentle, pulling her hair along her neck until she finally reached up, slipping her mane into a pony tail. It was a perfect day to be outside, and the young woman was thrilled to have an excuse to wander about.

  The farmer's market was being held by the beach, and with a firm decision that she needed groceries anyway, Jenna had slipped into a comfortable dress and hurried down to the area. The stretch of ocean was within walking distance of her place, of which she was quite grateful.

  Adjusting the straps of the knee length blue outfit, she caught a glimpse of herself in the flat metallic sheeting of one tent, admiring the sight covertly. The garment hugged her hips and circled her small waist, giving her a perfect hour glass shape while letting her remain modest. She knew she looked good, and her life had been kind to her; No stress lines marred her sweet, heart shaped face.

  Jubilant, Jenna almost found herself skipping along the ground, her hands swinging gently at her sides. The pier was lined with a variety of booths and displays, the majority being food. However, as with any live market, there were other items as well. A table of porcelain figures caught her eye, and another of knitted hats drew her away. Over and over, she wandered about, pausing to admire the colors and variety available to her shopping desires.

  It seemed impossible for anything to hold her attention long.

  'I wonder what I'll find in the market today?'

  When Jenna turned, leaving behind a tent full of ripe apples, a flicker of lights caught her eye. Nearby, settled between a table of baked goods and a display of sculptures, sat a brightly colored tent surrounded in lamps. It made her think of Christmas, and the oddness of the whole set up pulled her close like a moth to a flame.

  It was a large structure, heavy cloth and a flat table peeking from the entrance. The whole thing seemed out of place, more festive than anything she had seen yet. Unable to help herself, the girl stepped close, brushing through the opening and into the buzzing center.

  'Buzzing' seemed too subtle a word.

  Inside, the walls and ceiling seemed to glow, lights of every shade blinking about. There was an under current of sound, a song she couldn't identify, but it seemed catchy and made her think she had heard it before. The counter tops inside were shaped like an L, bedecked in books, electronics, jewelery and clothing. The assortment was immense, the place seeming to contain an entire bazaar separate from the market outside.

  The brunette slipped closer to the display, her fingers grazing over a radio, then a flute, before she spotted something flashy and pink. As if pulled by intrigue, Jenna found herself standing in front of a stack of clothing, her hands lifting and tugging at the outfits. The designs were cute, though she didn't recognize the brand.

  The music was getting under her skin, she thought, the air seeming to tingle and make her cells almost vibrate. The lamps in the tent also seemed to be flickering, making her head throb, and spots of orange danced in her eyes.

  When she yanked a shirt out of the stack, she knocked some of the merchandise to the floor, and winced. Bending down, the young woman collected the fallen cloth, pausing when her fingers brushed against the surface of something so amazingly silky and smooth.

  Standing slowly, Jenna seemed to forget about the rest of the discarded outfits, her hands holding the treasure she had discovered up before her curiously. The panties were a dazzling, bubblegum pink; They stretched at her touch, seemingly well made and with no loose threads. What surprised her still, though, was how luxurious they felt.

  Once, when she had visited Europe, she had stayed in an expensive hotel on an accidental flight layover. The sheets in that place had been decadent, fancy, and she had spent the night rolling in them like a kitten in cat nip.

  These panties felt finer than even that bed had.

  Baffled, she searched for a label, finding a small set of letters printed inside. The name made her blink, and she had to hold in a giggle.

  'Pet Panties?'

  It almost seemed insulting, but at the same time, she didn't want to set them down. The sensation was too perfect, and when she rubbed them through her digits, she was reminded of buttery caramel.

  She almost had them to her cheek, to absently nuzzle, when the voice came.

  “May I help you?”

  Jenna gasped, surprised and embarrassed as she yanked the panties away from her face. Spinning, she spotted an older man, his head tilted and his mouth a polite, if strained, smile. “Um!” Flustered, her words came out in a rush. “Sorry, I, uh. I saw your tent, and...”

  “Ah,” he stepped around the counter, standing on the opposite side of her and looking pleased. “You came in because you wanted to buy something.”

  “Er, well, I don't know if...”

  The man made a motion, lifting an eyebrow in question as he pointed to the item in her grip. “That, correct? You want to buy those.”

  The girl opened her mouth, ready to deny this claim, to apologize and leave in the awkward moment. Her words, instead, caught her off guard.

  “Yes, I do.”

  She was stunned, but even as she finished speaking, she clutched the panties and realized it was true. They were amazing, she had to have them, though it made her feel silly to want such a ridiculous item so badly. The merchant only nodded, ducking down and lifting a small paper bag into view. “They're very popular, you know. They're also on sale, you'll want the full package.” He stopped, lifting his eyes and giving her a serious look.

  Jenna nodded in answer.

  The fellow stuffed a few more items into the container, talking to her almost idly. “Of course you'll want the special deal, as well. That's a few other items, and some shoes...” His words were making her head foggy, and she wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she found herself suddenly standing there with the bag in hand, the merchant giving her a pointed stare.

  “Um. What was that?”

  “You asked where you could change, I said over there.” He pointed, and she glanced to the side, spotting a small wardrobe shaped room that stood on its own.

  'What, I asked about changing?' Her mind was a blur, and in a daze, she let him guide her to the door. She felt too ashamed of her distracted attention to argue, and wordlessly, the girl slipped into the tiny box, shutting the entrance behind her.

  In the brightly lit space that was essentially closet sized, Jenna set down her bag and rubbed her eyes. She didn't know what was wrong, but something felt off. The music piping in made it hard to focus, and the flickering lamps on the ceiling and around the floor length mirror before her were making her dizzy.

  Peering into the bag, she found a number of garments, and she bit her lip, wishing she remembered how much she had spent. She didn't even recall handing over the money. Part of her debated on just taking the container and exiting, fleeing the whole scene, but she felt oddly compelled to try on the clothing.

  Her fingers dug through, shifting shirts, bras, and even a pair of tights. Yet almost without question, she revealed to the air what she was truly after; The panties seemed even pinker in the changing room.

  Quickly, she bent over, sandals kicked free and almost ripping her underwear down her thighs and to the floor. The air was cool under her dress, and she caught a glimpse of her own smooth flesh in the mirror. Easily, excitedl
y, the girl tugged the satiny panties up her ankles, gliding them along her hips until they slipped snugly into place. The material was even more delicious on her sensitive parts, and it made her groan softly in pleasure.

  Turning, she admired herself in the reflection, enjoying the way the garment seemed to cup her ass perfectly. Grinning, she felt a thrill at the sight, lifting her dress high and studying the fabric. It embraced the junction of her thighs like a second skin, and she could see the hint of her slit, almost highlighted by the vibrant pink.

  A knock on the door made her jump, and she dropped her dress hem in a hurry.

  “Are you alright in there?”

  “Oh, uh, yes!” Scurrying, feeling frantic, as if she had been caught doing something bad, Jenna grabbed the bag of clothes and stumbled from the changing booth. The man stepped back, blinking at her, and she wondered if he could tell how red her cheeks were. “Sorry, uh, thanks for the clothes.”

  “They're satisfying, then?” His words seemed to imply more, but she was too flustered to ponder it, and she simply gave a series of nods, so rapid her hair bounced. Turning, her feet danced over the cool ground, and the brunette dashed out of the tent with a strange feeling of trepidation. She needed to leave, but she wasn't sure why her intuition was telling her to do it as quick as possible.

  “Uh, yes, they're great! So, yes, thanks again! Um, have a good day!”

  She wasn't sure if he waved, she was hurrying down the pier too quickly to look back.

  Her nervousness calmed after a few minutes, but even so, she was far away from the tent before she realized she was walking barefoot down the lane. Gawking at her scattered thoughts, her unawareness, Jenna looked from her toes, back the way she had come, and debated on returning. The idea was amazingly humiliating, especially when the realization that she had also left her original panties on the changing room floor hit her.

  Slapping her forehead, feeling her own burning skin, the girl sighed loudly. On a whim, she peeked into her bag, a tingle of memory in her brain. She recalled in her daze a snippet of her shopping spree, thinking she had also bought some new shoes at the man's shop. Jenna wasn't completely relieved when this proved true, for the objects she lifted from the sack were a mixture of pure sparkling seduction. The heels were tall, sharp; The straps thin and blue. All together, they were shoes better suited for clubbing, not a walk around a farmer's market.

  In the end, Jenna shrugged in defeat. Bending over, her toes slipped into the high fashion sandals, the wrappings going up her calf so high she felt trapped in them. Her first steps were a bit wobbly, but quicker than she expected, the girl was soon strutting down the walkway easily.

  Too easily.

  At first, she attributed it to just adjusting to balancing in the heels, her hips shifting to keep her from falling. It was obvious though that she was swinging her rear a bit more than was called for, each step a seductive stroll across the ground. It made her feel sexy, and her concern over her odd movement was blooming with the insistent, sudden blossom of heat in her lower belly.

  Rubbing a palm across the back of her neck, she tried to blame the sun, to rationalize it as just the weather hitting her tired form. Each movement she made, every little clop of a heel, it all seemed to be creating a strange sensation between her thighs that was clearly not related to the summer.

  Jenna wrinkled her brow, pausing a moment beside a display of watermelons. The owner tried to speak to her, and she waved him aside, almost rude in her focus. Her heart was pulsing, her skin tingling. Something was wrong, that much was clear, but she couldn't make sense of it.

  On wobbling legs, she took a few more strides, knowing instantly that it seemed to correlate with the rubbing caress on her lower half. Impossibly, walking was creating a feeling like something was brushing over her quim, sliding over those plump lips and increasing her desire rapidly.

  Her mouth parted, and she licked it uneasily. 'Why am I getting turned on, is it just the heels making me feel sexy, or something like that?'

  Swallowing nervously, she decided she needed to get home.

  Initially, she planned to walk faster, thinking speed was key. However, her plan was turning against her, and her quickness was simultaneously building the rush of desire, the coil of hunger shooting down to her pussy. Wetness was noticeably sliding along her skin with each swing of her hips, and Jenna was reaching a realization that she might be in trouble. The market was bustling, people swarming around and chatting nearby; People that watched everything, including her, and for once she resented her attractive looks.

  One foot in front of the other, down the pier, a yearning tug corresponding along the slippery front of her panties. She almost squeaked when it felt like the garment itself was sucking, squeezing over the swelling button of her clit.

  'I'm going to come in front of everyone, oh god, I need to get out of here.'

  The stairs that lead down to the beach loomed ahead, and she thought, if she could only get there, she might make it out of this before it was too late.

  As she took a final stride, someone behind a counter grabbed her arm, a gentle gesture that was meant to bring in a customer to view some wares. The warmth of skin, the abrupt grip, it was all too much.

  Jenna trembled, squeezed her eyes shut, and came on the spot.

  Buckling over, her whole being seemed to shiver, her muscles tensing as the ripples of pleasure shot down to her core. The vibrating warmth spread, her nipples hard and sliding across the material of her bra. Bent over the counter, with the merchant gasping and asking if she was alright, the brunette felt the liquid of her juice sliding from her twitching pussy, the wetness gliding down the inside of her thighs.

  It took her sometime to calm down enough to speak, her cheeks bright as beets and her eyes glazed. With deep humiliation she turned to the shop keeper, waving a shaking hand and offering fragile, weak words, all the while aware of her walls clenching in after shocks of pleasure. “Oh, uh, I'm... I'm fine, really...”

  The man frowned, patting her shoulder and looking concerned. “Low blood sugar, right? Here, take this, it'll help.” He reached over the counter and handed her a small bag before she could react enough to argue, and she saw it was a clump of bananas.

  “Oh, no, I couldn't...”

  “I won't take no for an answer. Take them, go on.”

  Jenna was too lost, too ashamed and dazed to fight the offering. Swallowing, she looked away quickly while giving a weak smile, her legs feeling like jelly as she moved once more for the stairs ahead. Clutching both her bags now, the dark haired girl listened to her heart, trying to make sense of this situation. 'Did I really just do that? What's wrong with me?'

  Gripping the railing, she descended down towards the sand below, planning to use the shadow of the docks to take a short cut back to her apartment. Jenna knew it would be quieter here, perhaps even empty, since no one walked under the pier; Most used the sunny beach or black top.

  Thus, when she rounded the bend and looked up at her destination, she was baffled by the group of young men who were reclining in the shadows. They seemed her age, or close, a trio who looked bored and simply trying to escape the harsh sun. Leaning against what appeared to be a forgotten, unused bike rack, they glanced up at the sight of her, and she tried to calm her features, to control her breathing and look less of a mess.

  One of them smiled, a sly curl of their mouth, and she felt a spark of fear and, irritatingly, arousal.

  Shivering, she stood straight, bags in her hands and heels stepping unsecured in the shifting sand. The distance past them seemed to stretch forever, and she hoped, as she moved within a few feet of them, that her body's apparent insistence to swing her round ass and the shape of her firm nipples through her dress wouldn't draw their attention.

  It was a futile wish.

  “Hey there, cutie,” one of the men called out, his green eyes glinting in his sharp face. “Come here a sec.”

  Jenna had a basic plan, a simple goal to just push
on ahead and ignore them. Astoundingly, her being seemed to argue with her wants. At the man's request, she paused, turning to change course and head towards the group. Her face registered her shock, while at the same time, her lower belly throbbed with a new spark of desire.

  The men seemed shocked, but they sat up around the bike rack, smiling wide, their grins hinting at a wild sort of hunger. The one who had spoke first looked her up and down, a slow motion of appreciation as she came to stand within a few feet. “Well, hello there, sweety. I'm Jim, what's your name?”

  “Jenna,” she blurted, then bit her lower lip. 'Why am I answering him?' Her heart was pounding with a surge of anxiety, all the while, she was acutely aware of the pooling sticky mess in her panties.

  The man who called himself Jim tilted his head, gesturing to the other two behind him. “That big guy is Phil, and this is Travis. What brings you out today, babe?”

  Her eyes ran over the trio, plush lips parting unbidden, and she was beginning to truly become concerned with how she was placidly acting. “I needed to get groceries.” Lifting the bag of fruit, she frowned mildly when Jim took it, opening it with his buddies. The yellow bananas were pulled free, and the blonde one, Travis, snickered.

  “Bananas? Nice.”

  Jim chuckled, but his eyes were full of intrigue, not humor. He waved a hand, motioning her closer. “Come have a seat with us, babe.”

  The brunette looked from the green eyed man, to the bike rack, and she stepped forward. Jenna had planned to, at most, lean on the metal device like they all were. However, it seemed her body had other ideas. To her horror, and the clear surprise of the gathering, she placed her palms on the long, cool pole. Easily, she lifted a knee, sliding her leg over until she was straddling the bike rack. The steel was pressed up, intimately, against the damp slit of her panties, her thighs cradling it tight like a witch on a broom.

  Jim lifted his brows, and Phil dropped his jaw. Travis, however, scrubbed a hand through his hair and laughed.