The thing that bothered Laura most was that sitting there at her desk, knowing that there was cum on her face, and that people could see her… it felt normal.
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 were 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 the 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 little 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 fantasized 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 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” stenciled 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 nipples, and a tassel 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.
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