You should read Chapter 1 of Controlling Cassandra first to understand the context. This is a personal collaboration between on-line friends.
In the weeks following my ‘incident’ with Cassandra when she ripped my clothes to shreds I continually did 2 things with alarming frequency. Firstly, I visited the place where she worked so I could see her and chat to her wherever she was in the store, talking about what happened, about clothes, relationships, music and anything that would hold her attention. I also fantasised about her often, whilst frigging my craving pussy and oozing enormous volumes of juice all over my hand, my panties, my bed, my furniture and my car seat. Messy but also very enjoyable.
Eventually our strong but different personalities found some common ground and we agreed to go shopping for something special for Cassey to wear. As a result I found myself waiting outside the store where she worked, impatiently drumming on the steering wheel and willing her Saturday afternoon shift to finish. Finally she strode into view, her slim figure unmistakable, her long legs balanced on very high shoes then continuing seemingly forever upwards until they disappeared under the ultra-high hem of her tiny scarlet pleated lo-rise skirt. I doubt it was more than 25 cm deep, barely covering her cute ass-cheeks and stopping well below her pelvic bone such that her pubic hair would have been clearly visible, except that she doesn’t have any. Ever.
Her entire midriff was totally naked. Except that is for a large ornate dangling sparkling and bejewelled decoration attached to the piercing above her immaculate navel, that was easily 8 cm long.
By the time she leaned down to open my car door my eyes had travelled up as far as the outward curve of her small exquisite boobs. They were tantalisingly and barely hidden by an almost-sheer white top that billowed voluminously over and along her arms yet was cut tight and narrow across her upper back like a shrug. It was pulled together and knotted at the front so that her small fleshy mounds could be easily envisaged (if not actually seen) as she bent forward, twisted and flopped into the seat beside me.
“Hi Julie my sweet” she bubbled before planting a long soft kiss on my right cheek yet squeezing my hand very tight, betraying a nervous anticipation simmering below her lively exterior. She looked, felt and smelled gorgeous. She’d obviously freshened up after her shift and more importantly, had found time to apply one of her more ambitious and artistic make-up designs. It exploded in an asymmetric multitude of colours all the way from her left cheek-bone, across the bridge of her gorgeous nose, over and under her right eye all the way to her hair-line above her temple. Fabulous!
I kissed her in return and simultaneously started both the engine and a stream of meaningless, irrelevant small-talk. We drove into the city to a wonderful shop I had recently discovered that I was sure Cassandra would enjoy as it stocked a wide range of the special garment we had agreed I should buy for her. The garment in question was a corset and the shop in question was called “Strictly Forbidden”.
I parked the car around the corner and as we had agreed, we pretended not to know each other. Cassey stepped out and strode towards the shop whilst I waited the pre-arranged 10 seconds before following at a discreet distance. I saw my ‘stranger’ hesitate at the door – I thought she might not go through with our plan – but no, she pushed the large door and stepped inside the ‘Strictly Forbidden’ store.
When I entered I saw she was already thumbing through the sexy-but-safe lingerie just inside the door. They certainly stock some beautiful stuff and were one of the first Canadian stores to import the luxury Passionella range from England. I moved down the store to the rear to feign interest in the much more risqué ‘playwear’ and restraints, including latex clothing, cuffs and spreader bars. I smiled when I saw the small half-hidden door marked ‘Storeroom – No Entry’ with a smaller notice underneath that read ‘Customers must be accompanied at all times by a member of staff’.
A member of that staff had now begun talking to Cassey and I moved closer to overhear the conversation:
“What I really came in here to look at was a corset but I’m really not sure what I’m looking for,” my friend explained.
The assistant led her luscious and scantily-clad prospective customer over to a bewildering display of restrictive garments in black, white and many luxurious colours that erupted into a mass of lace, straps, ribbons, eyelets and buckles. The assistant made many proposals, holding up corsets, basques and clinchers against her own body and Cassey’s but my accomplice rejected every suggestion with ever more implausible objections.
“This might suit you,” I suggested, walking over to them and taking down a particularly extreme-looking corset from the rail. It was black, with stiff boning up the front, sides and back, casino şirketleri with at least a half a dozen leather straps and buckles down the front and eyelet lacing all the way up the back.
“Er, oh … thanks, erm, well …” Cassey mumbled, acting surprised that a total stranger should proffer such advice.
“No, really,” I protested, “I’d love to be able to wear one of these but I’m a little too rounded these days to pull it off. But you my dear are so, mmmm, slim.”
Cassey looked at the assistant for reinforcement. She smiled and nodded, embarrassed that she had not mentioned it first. Then she scowled at me from under her dark heavy eyebrows and long black fringe. “Try it by all means, but that one will be far too small, even for you. Here, try the next size up.”
“Oh, no, I’m sure she’ll be able to squeeze into it,” I protested, grabbed Cassey’s hand and almost pushed her into the changing room.
Miss Severe Hairstyle tried to follow her in whilst blocking my path. “Sorry, but only one customer is allowed in the changing room at …”
“I’m not a customer, I’m just browsing” I countered sarcastically and forced my way past, slamming and locking the door behind us leaving the Strictly Forbidden employee helplessly protesting outside.
Cassey was breathing quickly. She grabbed me in a full embrace and kissed me wetly, full on the lips, revelling in the excitement and the privacy. She untied the knotted sheer fabric between her boobs and shrugged off her top. To my disappointment she had flesh-coloured pasties over her nipples; at least this explained why they had not been visible though her sheer top – I’d been wondering why Cassey had not been finding our escapade more obviously arousing.
“I don’t need them now, you can take them off if you’d like …” Cassey purred. I needed no further encouragement and carefully peeled them off, revealing a pair of small but deliciously fiery and erect nipples that just begged to be nibbled and sucked.
I restrained myself, but only just.
Cassey then turned her back to me so I could unzip her diminutive skirt. It fell to the floor and I gasped: “You dirty, slutty bitch!” as I realised Cassey was not wearing any panties under her ultra-short skirt. “What would you have done if you’d dropped something in the street and had to bend down to pick it up?”
Cassey just smiled wryly, confirming the exhibitionist streak in her character that I was growing to love.
I wrapped the corset around her now-naked torso. Indeed, the store assistant was right. It was very narrow, but the struggle would be part of the fun. I fully loosened the buckle straps and re-threaded the lacing though all the eyelets the way I’d always found best; one long lace beginning at the top and criss-crossing down as far as the waist and another starting at the bottom and laced up to meet it.
I secured the buckle straps then began to pull on the lacing. Slowly I drew the sides together and Cassey helped me by breathing in and tightening her tummy muscles. The more I laced and pulled the shallower her breathing became.
The more I laced and pulled the more I could smell the sweet heady aroma of Cassey’s pussy.
And the more I laced and pulled the more my own pussy twitched and flooded.
“Oh, oh … oh shit.” Cassey whispered, as I pulled in her waist, smaller than it had measured for years.
The corset cupped and supported the lower curve of Cassey’s breast but stopped just below her nipples so, the more I laced the more her small boobs were squeezed upwards and forwards. “Mmm, I like the way this makes my tits look bigger” she enthused. I liked the way her nipples protruded, as if reaching out to touch the cold glass of the mirror in front of her.
Narrowing, hour-glass fashion, to her much-constricted waist then widening again over her hips, Cassey’s new corset finished a little above her smooth, bare pussy mound.
One more systematic tightening of the lacing, from top to waist then from bottom upwards, had Cassey mesmerised as she watched her reflection to see a couple more centimetres of her body gradually disappearing before her very eyes. She smiled another wry, satisfied smile and turned side-on. She tried to bend down but of course realised she could now only bend from the hips, not at the waist, Towering over me on her high heels, she put her hands on her hips and leaned forward to kiss me on the lips.
“Fabulous, Julie, just fabulous,” she enthused. I knew she’d like the feeling. I wasn’t sure if she’d like what I did next.
I knelt in front of her, reached around her torso and took hold of the free ends of the upper lace, bringing them around to the front of her narrowed waist and tying them together where her navel would have been. (I’d pulled her corset so tight that I had plenty of free length!). Next I touched the insides of Cassey’s knees to signal ‘part your legs’, but hadn’t anticipated the dramatic effect this would have on her. She was so tense and excited that she jumped violently, casino firmaları wobbling on her heels. She grabbed my head to steady herself and (accidentally?) pushed my face hard against her pussy. The aroma was intoxicating and my mouth became moist with her copious juices. I looked up at her and she down at me for what seemed like forever, our eyes burning with desire, and I licked my lips.
I quickly resumed my task, reaching between Cassey’s legs to pull the other pair of long lace-ends down her ass, between her upper thighs and back up over her pussy then tying them in bow-knots to the pair leading down from her embellished navel.
Cassey obligingly parted her knees wider, now fully aware of my intentions, and inevitably the laces worked their way between her ass-cheeks and into the gash of her pussy. I pulled tighter so they all but disappeared into the wet pink softness of her cunt and Cassey squealed, then let out a long slow wavering breath as I finally knotted the laces, deliberately trapping her clit-hood and her inner labial lips between the two invasive cords.
I stood up and admired my handiwork. At a casual glance it might appear that she was wearing an exceptionally skimpy string bikini-bottom. Anyone looking down from a standing position would be unaware of Cassey’s parted pussy-lips and her trapped, tormented clit. But Cassey was. She rolled her eyes, let out a long wavering sigh and began to rock and gyrate her pelvis to accentuate the effect of the laces. I moved closer to her, but we were both startled by a loud knock on the door.
“Ladies, come out at once. I have other customers waiting to use that change room!” Ms. Severe Hairstyle was getting impatient.
“Come on sweetie, we need to find you something more for you to wear!” I insisted, unlocked the door and ushered my tall and very slender plaything out onto the retail floor. Cassey took a few uncertain steps out into the shop, gasped, shuddered then leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.
“Shit, Julie, I can’t walk like this! You knew this would happen, you bitch. Every time I take a step the lacing rubs my pussy more and squeezes my clit. Do I have to …”
“You’re mine now and you do as I say,” I retorted, delighting in the shocked expression on Cassey’s face. “Don’t question my instructions again, Cassandra. Oh, and I’d be obliged if you call me ‘Mistress Julia’ “.
Carefully placing one stilettoed foot in front of the other, Cassey stepped out into the bright focussed lights of the shop sales-floor. Ms. Trying-to-be-bossy-but-weak-in-character hustled us along but I walked slowly and deliberately behind my pinch-waisted Cassey, whispering instructions:
‘Walk slowly, look straight ahead, ignore her, turn left, over towards the skirts, shit your ass looks so good from here …’ upon which my sweet corset-slut wiggled her bum cheeks and rotated her pelvis seductively as she made her way over to the display of leather and rubber clothing that I had indicated.
We must been in that dressing room for at least 15 minutes and now there were several other customers in the store. Cassey was drawing admiring glances and incredulous stares, due no doubt to her erect nipples, her breathtakingly-tight corset, her peach-smooth pussy mound and maybe her striking make-up, but mostly due to the fact that she’s just so fucking gorgeous.
Ms. insignificant-sales-minion busied herself helping a fat and unattractive woman with a cheaply-cut hairstyle, whilst I encouraged Cassey to browse though the narrow hobble-skirts. She picked one that was very long and fashioned exquisitely from oh-so-soft black supple hide that exuded the intoxicating smell of raw animal. She held it up to her hips for my approval and I nodded as I admired the ultra-lo-rise waist, the slender shape leading down into a wide flare-out from just below her knees to her mid-calf.
Continuing to browse the store, Cassey stopped at the display of leg-wear, running her free hand over the sumptuous range of stockings made from the sheerest nylon (seams up the back of course) though to skin-hugging latex in various evocative colours and even soft supple leather with corset-style lacing right up the sides. Cassey selected a pair of purple fish-net stockings with the largest holes you could imagine, glancing towards me again for my approval. I loved the look of them and my pussy twitched repeatedly as I imagined how they would stretch when pulled over Cassey’s slender legs, and how her soft flesh would bulge ever-so-slightly though the huge 5 centimetre diamond-shapes holes. But I shook my head disapprovingly to provoke a reaction.
Immediately my submissive Miss Cassandra fell to her knees in front of me and begged me to buy them for her, promising to rub her legs against mine if only I’d let her wear them when we got home.
“Oh Cassandra, you will need to promise much more than that!” I replied with a smile. “Put them on and let me see if I like them,” I continued, keeping control of our unfolding tableau. Of course I would like them, güvenilir casino and would want, desire, no –NEED – to hook my fingers though their lattice-web matrix of tight cord strands to caress Casseys barely-concealed skin. Mmmmm, my pussy was pumping juices inside my silk panties and I could feel my nipples grow even more hard and erect under my matching silk bra-cups.
Cassey stood up and made for the change room but I had other ideas: “No, put them on here.”
Cassey looked uncertain but I insisted. She kicked off her shoes and, putting a hand on my shoulder to steady herself, slid on first one stocking then the other.
The spectacle was at least as revealing and alluring as I had planned, drawing more ardent admiration from the voyeur-shoppers as my companion lifted each leg in turn. She could not help but expose her pussy-slit, sliced though by the laces of her corset and gaping wide as her pink wetness shone under the bright display lighting. Cassey gradually worked the purple netting up her thighs until they reached just below her oh-so-bare pussy, their criss-cross design beautifully augmenting the laces that were now buried deep within her obviously swollen and engorged cunt-lips.
Yes, they did look wonderful on her, their stay-up tops fashioned like bondage restraints with small steel buckles.
Without further prompting Cassey took the narrow skirt from me and stepped into it, wiggling her hips and pulling the soft hide up over her long stockinged legs until her bare mound (only just) disappeared below the low top of the garment.
I dragged the long side zipper up her left hip and Cassey sighed as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
“Oh Mistress, it’s wonderful. May I have it?” she pleaded. I smiled at her pleasing submissivity and feasted my eyes on the narrow band of soft bare flesh provocatively exposed between the top of the skirt and the bottom of her corset. Cassey turned her back to me to confirm that, as I hoped and expected, the start of her ass-crack just peeped over the top of the black leather skirt and she obligingly bent forward to exaggerate the effect. I slapped her bum in mock chastisement and Cassey squealed and giggled with pleasure. Ohhh, how the delicious sound of my palm on taught hide resounded in my ears!
“Over here, bitch!” I called to Ms. Menial Servant. She scowled at me.
I put one hand firmly on my hip and beckoned her slowly and repeatedly before pointing at the floor in front of my darling Cassandra.
She walked over to us, her expression a model of disgruntled reticence.
“Help her with her shoes!” I commanded.
“Why can’t you help her to …”
“Fuck you, miss. Do the job you’re paid to do. You’re here to serve, right?” I felt like spanking her too, right there in the store.
Ms. Unimportant Assistant knelt before us and held first one then the other stiletto shoe so Cassey could slide a slender foot into each.
“Now kiss them,” I continued authoritatively.
She looked up from her low, disadvantageous position, unable to protest. She bent her head and kissed one toe then the other.
“Perfect, we’ll take the corset and the skirt, and the stockings of course.”
Cassey smiled and hugged me.
Ms. Good-For-Nothing scrambled to her feet and strode indignantly to the till whilst Cassey gestured again to the change-room, seeking my permission to undress and change back into her ‘day’ clothes. But I had another plan. “No! Keep them on.”
Cassey’s eyes widened in both fear and excitement in equal measure.
I paid the bill and took Cassandra’s hand leading her out into the cooler evening air, which immediately caused her nipples to visibly pucker into rock-hard distended buds. She looked sexy yet vulnerable, her restricting corset and tight skirt causing her to walk upright and stiffly, only able to take very small steps. I kept a discreet distance behind her as she made her tentative way back to my car so I could admire her form and soak up the reactions of the passers-by on the sidewalk. My pussy was aching with desire, accentuated by the certain knowledge that, from now, the erotically dressed and emotionally controlled young woman in front of me was exclusively, willingly, obediently and totally mine. I slipped a hand over my left breasts and squeezed it hard, moaning with pleasure and expectation.
Cassey was obviously in no hurry and took care to pose provocatively for the street voyeurs who stopped to look her up and down, yet nonchalantly waving away the kerb-crawlers who mistook her for a hooker. I wondered momentarily what price she could have commanded, not that she would have been in the least bit interested in any man.
How could she keep her cool when I knew she was so turned-on? No doubt she would have wanted to stride quickly to exaggerate the effect of the tight laces against her clit, but her tight skirt denied her that pleasure as she hobbled and wobbled precariously on her high heels. Instead she had to endure the ordeal of a slow steady stimulation that, without doubt, was keeping her aroused but tantalising below the threshold where she might possible climax in public. Unless, that is, the attention from her audience alone could excite her enough for her to reach orgasm.