Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Shopping Humiliation

In the privacy of our home or the safety of a scene friendly location (fetish ball, goth night, etc) I love dressing up as a sissy or whore. However walking into say, Target, with a micro mini skirt, platform heels, slutty makeup, etc is a bit terrifying. Ok, kind of hot too, but let's not get into that right now. As I was saying, the danger and humiliation of doing things like that in the general public is rather scary to me to put it mildly. Of course Mistress knows this and takes full advantage of it on a regular basis.

For example, the other day she gave me a simple enough task, I have a cute white bustier top that's accented with hot pink trimming and connected by white lace in the front so it looks sort of like a corset. Mistress thought it would look better if the white lace was pink instead. So far it didn't sound like the task would be that hard to do, just run down to Michael's or AC Moore and pick up some pink ribbon. It's never that easy though. Mistress said she wanted an *exact* match on the color so therefore I would have to bring the bustier with me to the store and carefully compare the pink on the trim with the pink ribbon they had available in the store.

My first thought was that it's going to suck doing that because 1) I'll have to carry in women's lingerie into the store. 2) I'll have to in plain sight compare god knows how many ribbon samples to the bustier to get an exact match while the whole time having customers and sales clerks in the area watching me or asking if I need help.
To make it worse Mistress had one more twist to add in, I was required to wear bright, hot pink lip gloss the whole time. So even if I could pull off getting the ribbon rather discreetly the lip gloss would be hard to hide.

I was kind of freaked out by the time I got to Micheal's craft store but I knew there was no turning back, Mistress had ordered, as she always does, that I take pictures on my phone throughout the task so I would have proof that I actually did what I was supposed to. As I got near the sliding glass entrance doors an older lady was coming out. I walked by her quickly as I turned my head as if I was looking at something in the other direction. I dove down the first aisle I came across to catch my breath and relax for a minute. Almost immediately another women walked down the aisle toward me. I panicked and with my head down zoomed right by her. The next five minutes or so I spent avoiding people while trying to locate where the ribbon section was. By now I must have passed or walked by 4-5 different customers and nobody had yet seen anything.

I almost started to kind of relax when I nearly walked into an attractive soccer mom type women who looked at me and recognized what I was wearing on my lips. She didn't say anything but had a weird look on her face as we both quickly headed in opposite directions. I cringed in shame as I darted over to the ribbon section which I only now saw was directly in the middle of the wedding section. Perfect.

Thankfully, and I got really lucky on this, the ribbon aisle was totally empty so I was able to pull out the bustier from my hoodie pocket and compare it to the ribbon they had for sale. My luck was holding out because they really only had 3-4 pink ribbons in the size I needed. One was way too light, the other too dark so I only had to match up the bustier between the two remaining ones. Luckily I found a good match, put the bustier away and headed for the cashier after snapping a couple of pics of myself and the ribbon. I kept my head down and bit my lip in a vain attempt to hide my shame from the cashier as I paid for the ribbon. Either she didn't see it or didn't care but she made no comments or weird looks as she rang me up.

My heart raced as I snatched the receipt from her and headed back out to the safety of my car. I was done, and I had the photos to prove it. This embarrassing episode was over and while I didn't feel all that turned on during things, I did notice a wetness from precum forming in my underwear. Fear and pleasure mixing together? Perhaps Mistress knows me better then I thought...