Parole or Punishment · Part 1 (1/2)
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Part 1
It was a rather pleasant, spring Sunday evening. I had only been in town for a few hours and was enjoying a lovely walk along the somewhat deserted streets in a city shutting down for the night, thinking about my plans for the up-coming week. It was the start of what I felt was a hard-earned vacation, and I was looking forward to seeing the sights. I had been to Washington, DC, many times before, but it had always been for business. The museums and monuments had been tantalizing when I had driven around after those business meetings; but it was always too late to do anything on those occasions, other than enjoy the wide variety of cuisine in the numerous restaurants.
So for the first time I found myself with the opportunity to do whatever I wanted. My agenda for the next six days included lots of places to visit, but as it was a Sunday evening, I had nothing scheduled other than wandering around. I was exploring a side street when I discovered a rather unusual store. It was unlike anything that I had ever seen before, although I had been in sex-related stores on numerous previous occasions. What made this store different from those others were the paraphernalia and clothing on display. Many of the items hanging from the walls were similar to devices that I had created in my mind.
There were cuffs and collars, harnesses of all sorts (some of which had obvious uses, but there were lots of others which I could only guess as to their use), gags, helmets, etc. And on the store floor were racks and racks of clothing made with leather, latex, satin, spandex, and lace. In fact, there actually was a "Rack" — not the display kind, but an old-fashioned, eleventh century torture device! I even saw a pillory and several different types of crosses, including an impressive "X" cross that was centered on an axle so that it could be inverted or spun. That one made me smile, contemplating myself in it. The wide variety of lingerie, however, really caught my attention.
The panties, for example, came in more styles than I had ever imagined. And the satin brocade corsets were gorgeous. I was amazed at the large number of styles and colors. In fact, it was the corsets that made me decide to buy something for myself. Nervously I scanned the racks for things to buy. I selected a crimson, Victorian style corset, as well as a white one with black lace trim, a pair of sweetly ruffled, pink panties, black stockings, a black lace bra, and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Then I realized that I had no way of knowing if any of the items would fit. I certainly didn't want to purchase all these things only to have to bring them back later.
Glancing around the sales floor I discovered that the dressing rooms were discretely located to the rear of the store. That made me sigh in relief. If they had been centrally located, I probably would had chosen to buy the goodies and return them later, if necessary, but I certainly didn't want to interrupt my vacation by making a return trip to a store on an obscure side street! As I looked around, I noticed that all the other customers were ignoring me and were busy scanning the racks themselves. In addition, the store’s only sales lady, a gorgeous brunette, was apparently busy helping someone else.
When I dropped several items — the steel hangers making a clatter as they hit each other and the floor — she merely shot a brief glance in my direction and smiled over at me, but she made no move in my direction and continued to devote her attention to the other customer. Slowly I worked my way to the rear of the store and verified that no one else was using any of the dressing rooms. Feeling more at ease, I entered one of the curtained stalls with my armful of garments. I was so excited that I was sure my cock was going to burst free of my undershorts! It was while I was removing my pants that I discovered that I didn't have my wallet.
At first that fact was merely an annoyance; I assumed that it had fallen out on the car seat. It would be a long walk back to the car to get it, but it would be worth it. I had fantasized about owning erotic under-garments like these for a long time. It was while I was pulling on the ruffled panties when I remembered: I had taken out my wallet in the hotel room to tip the bellhop, and then had tossed it on top of the dresser! I was furious with myself and started cursing under my breath. The lack of a wallet meant that I wouldn't be able to purchase anything because the time required to return to the hotel to retrieve my money would be too much.
By the time I could get back to the store they would certainly be closed, and I just had too many other things planned for the up-coming week to make a return visit. Despite my anger and frustration with myself, I continued to try on the other garments, just to verify the sizes. Well, OK, wearing the stuff was a bit of a turn-on, too, and this was definitely stuff that I couldn’t buy at home! I was a bit dismayed at how difficult it was to tighten the laces of the shiny red corset after I put it on, but it seemed to be about the right size for me. After closing my eyes and taking one more deep breath, I yanked the cords a little bit tighter and tied them off.
When I opened my eyes again, the reflection that I saw in the dressing room mirror made me gasp. The reduction in the size of my waist was astonishing; I was thrilled at how feminine the curves of my torso were in the corset. I absolutely had to have one of these satin delights! And then it occurred to me that no one had checked to see what I had brought with me to the dressing room area. I could easily steal something, and no one would be the wiser! No, that isn't like me, I thought. Stealing is wrong; I’ve never stolen anything before. I shouldn’t start now. …But on the other hand, do I really want to make another trip back here tomorrow? Preferably not.
My conscience was definitely my enemy; it was dominating my inner arguments, but not by much. And then, of course, there is the issue of paying for all of this lingerie with cash. I certainly don't want to have a place called the ‘Pleasure Palace’ on my charge card bill! With that thought, I scowled down at the price tag attached to the white corset which was still on its hanger suspended on a dressing room hook. My scowl instantly changed to an expression of complete shock. I couldn’t even breathe! I quickly scanned the other tags. The prices were all truly outrageous! They were positively astronomical! That settled it. So my question became, What should I take?
As desirable as they might be, the corsets would be too obvious. I was reasonably certain that the sales clerk had seen them in my hands, and I suspected that either one of them might be obvious through my thin shirt and light spring jacket because of the way that they feminized my shape. The same arguments applied to the bra; and besides, that wouldn't look right without accessories anyway. The stockings would be easy, but then what would I do with the wrapper? Well, I do have pockets! So that point was settled. The shoes, of course, were out of the question. There was simply no way to hide them. That left the ruffled panties.
All I had to worry about was the hanger, but there were already several in the room hanging on two of the clothes hooks. One more wouldn't be noticed. Having made my decision, I removed the corset, despite my lust for it, and the bra. I didn't even worry about trying on the shoes, even though they were the most questionable item, size-wise, that is. I quickly removed my shoes and socks, pulled on the stockings, and then put my socks back on over them. I pulled up my pants and glanced at myself in the mirror. No, the panties definitely were not visible. I slipped on my shirt, and then bent down to put on my shoes. Damn, I had forgotten my own underpants!
Well, they would go conveniently into my jacket pocket without a serious bulge. And so after tying my shoes, I put on the spring coat and dropped the balled-up underpants into a pocket. Yes, I’m going to be able to pull this off! I thought happily to myself. To avoid suspicion, I took all of the clothes with me when I left the dressing room. The other garments were quickly returned to the appropriate racks, so I started towards the door. The lovely brunette that I had seen earlier moved between me and the door and promptly asked me if everything was all right, wasn't there anything I wanted, did I need some help. I was a bit surprised by her sudden interest in me, and was a bit flustered.
As calmly as possible, I apologized that there just wasn't anything that I wanted this visit. She responded, "Well, there are two things. First, you dropped your undershorts over by the garter belt rack. And second, I am rather puzzled as to why you politely put away everything that you took to the dressing room except for the panties." I took a quick look back along my path and saw the white lump on the floor. I was embarrassed by the loss of my underpants, but I was totally nonplused by her observation regarding the panties. I couldn't believe that she had noticed something as insignificant as that. So as I turned to fetch my underwear, I stammered, "I…
I must have left them in the d…dressing room." That was, of course, the totally wrong thing to say, as it was an admission that I had taken a pair of panties to the back room. "No, we've already checked the room you used while you were putting things away, as we don't want customers to inadvertently leave anything behind.” She smiled and politely whispered, “(It's happened before, you know.)" After a momentary silence she continued, "Anyway, the stall was quite empty.” She paused again, presumably awaiting a response from me, and I was about to tell her that perhaps she was mistaken about which stall I had used.
But before I had the chance to interject, she resumed, folding her arms across her chest and tilting her head to one side, and with an obvious note of annoyance in her voice, “And besides, one of the other customers saw you pull up your pants over the ruffled panties. Apparently you didn't pull the curtain completely shut." I was furious with myself that I hadn’t just immediately left the store after leaving the dressing stall. But I felt that I had to cover up my crime by returning the other things to the racks; I thought that it made me look better as a customer. Instead, it just gave them time to find out the truth.
After back-tracking the fifteen feet to the garter belt rack, I bent down to retrieve my underwear. I looked around, red-faced, as I stuffed my underpants back into my jacket pocket. I wondered who had spilled the beans to the owner, but there was no way to know from the expressions on the faces of those customers who were glancing in our direction. There were an equal number of amused and angry looks. I wanted to say something to the gorgeous brunette who was now clearly blocking the exit, with her arms sternly crossed. But when my mouth opened, nothing came out. I had no doubt that I looked as guilty as I felt at that moment.
With a jerking finger, she directed my attention to the sign over the door behind her, which read: "ANYONE WHO TRIES TO FUCK US BY SHOPLIFTING WILL BE FUCKED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW." "Give me the panties right now, butt-head; and I'll let you leave with only a warning," she ordered. In an outstanding display of stupidity, and with a shrug of feigned confusion, I stammered, "Wha…What panties?" By this time, everyone in the store was staring at me. And I noticed with chagrin that the majority were Female! In a louder, angrier voice the store proprietress said, "Asshole, I don't like to repeat myself.
Now drop your pants, and take 'em off before I call the police!" I responded nervously, "O. K., let me go back to…" "No way, shithead!" she interrupted. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until you're out of my store!" "I… I can't. Not in front of…" Again she cut me off, "You had your warning!" And then she began to punch out ‘9-1-1’ on the cellular phone that was in her hand, but I was saved by a dead battery! "Damn stupid batteries!" she exclaimed in frustration as she pounded the phone with a fist. The exasperated brunette jammed the useless instrument back into its holster at her waist. Quickly she turned around, locked the door, and removed the key.
Then, speaking out to all the remaining customers, she loudly proclaimed, “Forgive me, everyone, for this inconvenience. As soon as this inconsiderate thief has been dealt with, I’ll unlock the door again.” Now everyone knew about my idiotic indiscretion! Before I could react, she and two assistants, who had appeared seemingly from nowhere, grabbed my arms, pinioning them at my sides, and pulled down my pants to reveal the pretty, pink ruffled satin panties. Upon seeing the black stockings as well as the panties that she already knew about, the lovely, but boiling, proprietress muttered, "Fuckin’ asshole!" The unexpected slap on my face was so hard that I almost fell over.
My embarrassment was complete as I was escorted, shuffling, to the back of the store, pants at my ankles and wrists now firmly cuffed behind my back. I heard the sniggers and crude comments of the other customers, especially from the female ones; I was absolutely mortified. When we were finally in a back office, the angry store manager picked up the telephone. Immediately I began to plead for mercy, but the brunette merely responded by saying that she had heard all kinds of excuses, and mine was one of the lamest ever. So I tried one last plea for mercy, "Please don't call the police. If I'm arrested for shoplifting my security clearance will be revoked; I'll lose both my job and my career.
Please, Miss, I'll do anything you want. Just PLEASE don't make that call." Then one of my "escorts" — a deliciously cute blonde in a black spandex body suit — spoke up, "Traci, maybe we can use him somehow. Why don't we just put him in bondage and think about it for awhile. You know we did just get a new shipment of clothing and toys; we can certainly use some help to put it on the shelves or in storage." "No, Susan, I don't want him touching anything while he’s in the store," Traci answered the blonde as she put the phone back in its cradle. "He's already proven that he can't be trusted. But you did give me a wonderful idea of how we can put him to good use.
"As you both know, business has been awful lately because of the recession." As she said this, she glanced first at Susan who was on my right, and then at my other escort, a statuesque redhead in an incredibly short red leather skirt and tight pullover blouse, who was standing by my left side. "Since we can't charge less for our products, the only way to improve profits is by selling MORE of our inventory. You both know that I really can’t afford to advertise any more than I currently do, which means that that isn’t even an option. So the best alternative is by showing the goods in use, or by letting the customers try them out themselves.
Well, the latter isn't always possible, and the rigid shape of the mannequins prevents them from being used for some of the equipment. So let's just use this shithead as a LIVE mannequin!" Traci's two assistants voiced their agreement instantly. I, however, wasn't sure that I liked the sound of her idea, but closing time, I knew from the sign on the door, was less than an hour away. (It was one of the reasons that I chose to steel the stuff in the first place.) I supposed that I could tolerate some further embarrassment for an hour if it meant no jail time nor even a visit to the police station.. "Now where should we start?" Traci asked rhetorically. "I know!
Since he wants to be a girl so much, we'll help him satisfy his desires." She paused and stared directly into my eyes. Then, with a rather contemptuous smile, she said emphatically, "Ladies, we'll dress him up like a whore." She paused to let the implication sink in, and then she continued, "Go out and get a corset, a bra, shoes — you know, the ones with the locking ankle straps, a wig, and some make-up.” Then with a grin, she added, “I leave it up to you two to select a nice color for our – umm – assistant. In fact, I suggest that you ask for help from the people in the store.
I’m certain that they would be delighted to help out.” The two women secured me to my chair with lots of leather straps and then disappeared with giggles back out into the store. Traci remained with me, but she turned her attention away from me to something on her computer screen, which was facing away from me. I twisted a little bit in my seat, testing my bonds. But I didn’t struggle very hard. I doubted that there was much I could do to escape from the chair; and I was damned certain
Parole or Punishment · Part 1 (1/2)
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