by Tina Majors
If someone put two and two together, it would be an easy situation to work out.
Anyway, I digress. I got out of the car and took a couple of shopping bags, reusable of course, out of the trunk and walked into the shop.
**
It was a large store, a flagship opening that had recently had a revamp too. This meant that the store was full of eager promotional staff, offering free samples and many different kinds of offers.
Sounds good right?
Well, maybe but also maybe not.
Sometimes I think offers are actually counterproductive and end up costing the customer more money than they had planned to spend.
Well, it was a good job for me that I had a very clear list that I was not permitted to diverge from. Thing was, I was a sucker for a deal or a limited period offer.
Even if I didn’t really need the product on offer, I would always somehow end up getting sucked in. perhaps it was down to my personality, but I was easily swayed and won over by a smooth talking sales man or woman.
Before you know it I’d be buying a multipack of chips having previously sworn off them for their negative nutritional value.
So, back to the store.
It was full of customers, so I figured that I would be able to slip around the store without being bothered by the promo staff who were no doubt on some kinds of bonus scheme depending on how many of their samples they could shift or reduced rate offer goods they could move on to gullible and unsuspecting consumers like me. well, maybe I’m being a little harsh there. After all, they were just doing their job and I was an adult with his own mind, fully capable of making decisions.
I walked to the snacks aisle and picked the snacks I had on my list and placed them in the cart. Unfortunately for me I had selected a terrible shopping cart, as I often did. It had one of the janky wheels that keeps spinning as you try and push.
Maybe it’s not such a big deal but it makes getting around the store a real pain in the ass, particularly when the store is busy and space to manoeuvre is limited, certainly more so than it would be during a quiet time of day.
I briefly considered taking the cart back and trading it for another one.
Was this madness?
It would cost time in the short run, but would it ultimately save time by making the rest of the shop significantly quicker?
In the end, I decided to stick with the poorly functioning cart and just grin and bare it, after all – what was the worst that could happen?
I pushed the cart up the aisle and round the corner to the alcohol aisle where I selected the listed champagne and bottles of beer that had been jotted down in clear and precise hand writing.
I stopped what I was doing for a moment because I thought I heard a song being played on the store sound system – and not just any song, but a song that I used to love back in the days. It wasn’t that song, but something contemporary that sounded very similar.
It got me thinking about how people are always talking about how derivative modern music, and creative arts in general, is compared to how it used to be in the famed Good Ole Days.
To me, I always called BS on this.
If you look back to any period in history they were always being influenced by those that came before them.
Name a genre, go on I dare you.
Name a genre or artist and then have a think whether he or she could truly claim to have totally come up with something that had zero influences from elsewhere in it.
It just doesn’t happen.
And here’s the thing, I don’t even think there’s anything wrong with that.
It is human nature is it not?
Of course, there does exist rip offs and derivative music, but I would say so what?
If it’s bad, it’s bad.
No one if forcing you to listen are they?
Unless of course you have been taken against your will and placed in an internment detention centre and subjected to special ops tactics in order to force you to confess to something you may or may not have done or have knowledge of.
I joke of course, and I do think that more or less any subject has a degree of humour to it, if the comedian has the skill to deliver an intelligent take on the topic.
And no, I am not comparing myself to a latter day Bill Hicks!
I like to see the humour, maybe crack wise on the subject, but that’s where my ambitions stop.
Well, as I say, the store wasn’t playing the jam I remembered from my college days, but it was a fun, throwaway track that I could appreciate to some degree. I tried to stay up to date with current music as much as I could, but often found it all too easy to slip back to the tracks I knew and loved.
So much for progress eh?
Well, when I did manage to listen to new choice cuts, I always kept an open mind and was more than happy to be pleasantly intrigued by a new genre. I had recently in fact discovered Grime music, a genre sub-division of rap that originated in the UK.
It was very urban, very aggressive, and I must admit to feeling a thrill as I listened to it, or especially if I sought out a music video on YouTube to put some faces to the rapping voices.
I wouldn’t say that Grime would ever be my number one go to after a long day, it was far too pumped up for that, but on certain occasions, perhaps when cleaning in a hurry, or doing another chore, I would say that you could do a lot worse than checking it out and seeing how you feel about it!
My main bag back in college was indie rock, which to this day I still enjoyed a lot. I could easily stick on one of my playlists and it would take me on a journey of emotions, memories, moments, feelings that ranged the full gamut of emotions.
Not all of my indie groups have aged as well as others, but this was natural and inevitable and I didn’t spend too much time worrying over it, after all tastes do change too and who is to say that the groups I did still enjoy would be universally loved by others?
You see, I made a point of not being a music snob, or ‘Muso’ as they are known, because as easily as I could mock one person’s tastes, another could turn around and do the same to me.
This is what I found humorous about the movie High Fidelity, the lack of self-awareness from the jerkwads who worked in the record store was typical of their class.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is a good movie overall and I think I heard the book version is also good, but I guess I couldn’t quite get my brain around how irritating and superior they acted. I would never dream of attacking someone because they didn’t remember a record title or band tour date.
That level of obsession to detail is a bit sad if you ask me.
Which you didn’t, of course!
I really am rambling now.
It was at this moment that I tuned away from the music and made my way over to the pharmacy counter and picked up the vitamins and training supplements.
Nothing chemical, all organic produce.
And the prices matched too!
There is no way I could have afforded this level of outlay, but that is the rub of life I guess.
You have to either accept your situation or work a way out of it.
Me, I was happy with how things were going (in the main, all though the painful moments I could live without!) but knew that I couldn’t let my standards slip, not for one moment.
I walked from the pharmacy counter and picked up the remaining items on the list and made my way to the self-serve scanner before suddenly remembering there was one more item I had to pick up.
My face flushed, my heart raced.
I didn’t want to do it, but I knew I had no choice.
**
I walked up to the check out of the clothes section, my face totally red from the embarrassment. I placed the panties on the counter top.
Three pairs, let me tell you about them.
Pair one: white, basic high cut thong.
Pair two: black, see through mesh, half thong at the back.
Pair three: green, lacy see through
, tiny thong back.
The woman at the checkout stared back at me and smiled.
“On a shopping trip for your wife, girlfriend… or yourself?” She asked, knowing the answer full well I suspected.
I don’t know what came over me, it would have been so easy to lie.
But, I had promised Madame Jennifer, and Madame Annabelle who was attending via live video chat, that I would answer honestly if anyone asked.
“Y-y-yes, these are for me,” I mumbled, “I wear women’s panties because I am a sissy.”
I was stunned at how the words flowed out, I was totally exposed and humiliated in front of this total stranger but somehow it felt good.
“I am a sissy beta who wears panties because I do not deserve to wear proper alpha male underwear,” I continued.
The woman looked back at me, her eyes had lit up.
She was clearly loving this, and there was absolutely no mistaking that. She was incredibly attractive, it must be said.
She must have been in her late thirties, but very healthy and vibrant looking. Her uniform of white blouse and tight blue trousers actually looked very sexy on her, it was a tight cut that emphasized her large breasts, shapely thighs, and protruding, strong ass. Her lips were cherry red and plump, her hair was cut shoulder length, clearly at a good salon, and in shiny, healthy condition.
This was the kind of woman I would go for, were I not a complete and utter beta loser, sissy boy.
It was then that I knew I had to continue with the arrangement.
There was no way out of it.
I had been given the instructions by Annabelle and Jennifer. Jennifer had even brought Sophia along with her to be a part of the experience.
Sophia, if you remember, was the Serena Williams lookalike goddess from the Sissy Sleepover – and she was in the supermarket with Jennifer, shopping in the deli section. They would be over in a minute to check that I had owned up to being a sissy, and if they found out I hadn’t followed up on the remaining part of the instruction, then I didn’t dare to think what would happen to me.
“Madame,” I said to the lady behind the checkout. “Would you consider assisting me, alongside my Madame and her esteemed friend, in trying out the panties to see if they are sissy enough for me? Your assistance would be greatly appreciated.”
I could tell the woman, Alex, was momentarily taken aback.
But then it happened.
A wicked grin came over her face, I could see her nipples visibly stiffen through her thin blouse, and she confirmed that she would very much like to assist.
“Thank you, Madame Alex,” I said.
Just as I was about to call Jennifer, I turned around and saw her and Sophia approaching the counter.
They both looked like they meant business.
**
I was marched into the store changing area and pushed into the changing cubicle by Jennifer. Jennifer placed a pile of women’s underwear, bras and panties mainly, on the stool in the corner and promptly walked out.
“You know what we want, you’d better not let us down!” She said, as she walked out.
I could hear the sound of chairs being moved around near the exit to the changing rooms.
Also voices.
It seemed like Jennifer, Sophia and Alex were getting along like a house on fire. This was good, as a happy mistress will usually treat her sissy sub better in my experience.
But it was also a warning sign.
Often a shared connection and increase in positive mood would lead to Jennifer getting mischievous, really letting rip and putting me through the most excruciating humiliations.
My task here was simple, or it was in theory.
I had been told in no uncertain terms that I would be giving an impromptu fashion show of the store’s latest panty range for Alex, Jennifer, and Sophia.
I was to use the corridor outside of the changing rooms as my runway and I was to put on my best sissy walk up and down like I was on a catwalk in New York fashion week.
This was the kind of thing I was forced into doing at Annabelle’s house, but in a large store?
This was another level of sissy behaviour and I felt nervous, partly from the embarrassment of doing it in front of Alex, clearly a woman after Jennifer’s dominant nature, but also in a public place!
Not wanting to take too long and face any punishment for tardiness, I quickly stripped naked. I looked at myself in the mirror as I picked up the first pair of panties. My body, a real beta wimp body that no dominant Goddess would ever be interested in sexually, had slimmed down further, but my ass was a bit perkier, bouncier, due to the high squat plan I had been put on.
Annabelle had ordered Jennifer to ensure that I completed my thousand squats over the course of the day – it was her goal that I developed the perfect sissy ass that would really show me at my best in panties.
But best for who?
Her and her friends, or the alpha businessmen and investors she had been referring to?
I’ll be honest, the thought began to turn me on and I ran my hand over my stiffening sissy clitty as I watched it rise in the full length mirror.
I snapped out of it as quickly as I could.
I pulled the panties up over my thighs and my twitching dick. It was a pair from the store’s sexy seasonal range; bright blue, lots of frills, and a cute little fluffy bow at the back. It was perfect for any sissy, that was for sure.
I took a deep breath and walked out.
There were ironic cheers from the three women as I approached them and did a turn.
“Look at his stupid feminine ass jiggle! It’s all the sissy squats he does!” Jennifer said, loudly for my benefit, to her companions.
“I know a few of the big men in the store room who would love a squeeze on that!” Alex replied, laughing.
“Damn, girl,” Sophia said, “We’ll have to get them in here and see what they think of this little slut!”
“Excellent idea,” said Jennifer. “Can you call them on your intercom?”
Oh no, this was not good. As I changed quickly in the changing room in to the next pair of panties, I could only hope that Jennifer was teasing me, that Alex wouldn’t be calling a group of burly store room workers in to watch my jiggle and sissy spin my way down the runway.
I did a few more walks up and down the catwalk, each time the panties got skimpier, more scandalous, sluttier. The women approved, laughing, calling out insults, grabbing me as I turned to walk back up to the changing room.
Now however it was time for the final. I knew I had to make this one a good one. As well as I thought I had done, I knew that unless I pushed this one to the extreme I would be in line for some serious punishment.
Who was I kidding? I was in for punishment either way, but if I let Jennifer down I knew it would be even worse.
I put on the final lingerie that had been left for me.
It was miniscule, absolutely tiny.
It was lurid neon, something a real slut would wear.
I put it on and it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Even though I was getting used to the sissy situation I had found myself in, first with Annabelle and now with Jennifer, this totally degrading underwear was a step further. It looked like the kind of thing a porn star would wear, the kind of porn star who is involved in the most degrading bukkake scenes, or finds herself getting blacked by the biggest, strongest, black alphas out there.
I felt myself quiver and without thinking ran my hands over my body, and over the tiny thong front.
Honestly, I could have cum right there.
But I knew better. Too many times I had cum without permission and faced the harsh reality of a spanking over a strict lady’s lap.
But, back to the situation.
I was ready to walk out.
I began to stride down to runway, I really put everything I could into swaying my hips, seductively pulling on my nipples like a dirty pole dancer.
As I reached the bottom of the runway,
right in front of Jennifer, Sophia, and Alex, I got on all fours and began to twerk my sissy booty, much to their delight.
“Woo! You go sissy!” Alex shouted, rocking her head back and laughing.
“Damn, girl, pop that booty! Make it clap for us!” Added, Sophia, who I couldn’t help but notice had popped open the buttons on her sheer blouse to reveal her substantial breasts jiggling around in her bra.
I continued to work my booty, before turning on to my back and doing some groin thrusts upwards, really pumping my crotch. As I was doing this, I saw out of the corner of my eye something I couldn’t believe.
About seven large men walked in, all wearing warehouse uniforms and all looking like they knew their way around a gym. Big, strong, alpha males. Jennifer hadn’t been teasing me after all, she meant it.
“Don’t you dare stop, you’re just getting started!” Jennifer said, seeing that I had noticed the group of big strong men, absolute physical specimens each one of them. “Look at them while you work that pathetic sissy body for our amusement!”
I knew I would have to do as I was told or risk the consequences. I continued to work my body, alternating poses, shaking my booty, grinding my crotch into the floor, the whole works. The men seemed to enjoy it as much as the women were.
I noticed that Sophia has beckoned one of the larger men over to her chair and she was now sitting on his lap. The thing with Sophia, if you can recall, is that she was a stone cold Serena Williams lookalike. Incredibly feminine, but also highly athletic and powerful.
Well, she looked positively tiny on the lap of this man, he was the kind of massive jock with a sophisticated, rugged edge that didn’t really seem like he worked in the warehouse. Also, it turned out he was the warehouse manager and just couldn’t resist coming up with the other men to take a look at the sissy on show.
“Sophia, how about the sissy boy gives me a personal dance?” He said. “Yes, I think that could work,” Sophia said, grinning.