I Got Caught Pegging in a Louis Vuitton Fitting Room

I like to take my time in fitting rooms. It’s nice to have some alone time while I try on lavish and expensive clothes without so much as glancing at the price tag. You’ll be paying, after all. Not that I had to say so. You know it is your duty to serve your master and get me whatever I desire as you sit patiently outside the changing room, for now. I slip into my last outfit, a tight leather jacket with a matching mini-skirt. I take a moment to look at my reflection and admire the way the clothes cling to my perfect curves and soft ebony skin. I smiled at my reflection as I smoothed my nylons, I was dominant and beautiful. The seductress of people’s darkest fantasies. Time to let one play out. I unlatch the door and open it slightly. Reaching my hand out, I snap twice- your cue to come inside.

 

Looking at you, one wouldn’t immediately know you were a loyal slave and a masochist, that is if they didn’t see the rope burns on your wrists from where I had you in bondage the night before. But today, in this Louis Vuitton fitting room, I planned on taking things one step father. “You look beautiful, master.” You say, avoiding making eye contact with me. “Thank you slave, I know.” That when I turn to you and lift up my skirt just a little to reveal the black strapon I had on. Poking out just under my suspender belt. “What are you going to do with that?” You say, quivering. “Get on your knees and you’ll find out.”

 

You obey, diligently. It’s all you know how to do anymore as you’ve surrendered completely to my dominance. “First my feet.” I say. Sometimes I like to indulge your foot fetish. You bend all the way down now and begin kissing and licking my bare feet. I laugh to myself. No real man would let himself be degraded like this in a fitting room, but you’re not a real man now are you? “Stop.” I say and you pull yourself away from my perfect toes. “Open your mouth.” You hesitate for a second but a slight raising of my eyebrows is enough for you to remember the punishment that is in store for disobeying me. You open your mouth and I begin slowly working my strapon in and out. I make sure to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. You gag a little. I say “You like sucking on my black strapon?” You nod with my strapon still in your mouth as tears fill your eyes. I grab a handful of your hair and pull you away, graciously allowing you a moment to catch your breath. “Take your pants off and get on your hands and knees,” I command. You obey, at this point you know what’s about to happen. I walk around you, put my foot on your head and press it down to the floor. Sometimes even the kinkiest subs need things spelled out for them. “Ass up like the slut you are. Good boy.” I come around you and position myself behind and lean forward to whisper in your ear. “Try not to enjoy this too much, baby.” I slowly begin to insert my strapon inside you, giving you the femdom pegging you needed. When it’s fully in I, once again grab a handful of your hair and pull you up to whisper in your ear. “Beg me to fuck you” I said. “Please master. Please peg me I need it,” you answer. I smile “Good boy.” I start to work my strapon in and out, pegging you as you moan like a whore. As I quicken my strokes, I raise my hand and bring it cracking down on your bare ass. Your moans get louder as an employee begins knocking on the door. “Is everything alright in there?” But I don’t flinch. I have you right where I want you and, like I said, I like to take my time. After just a few minutes of pegging, I can tell you’re fighting the urge to cum. I lean down “Are you close to an orgasm?” I ask. “Yes, master” you say though your moans. “Beg me to cum” I commanded. You beg and beg, yearning for me to make you cum while fucking you face down in a fitting room. That’s when I take my strapon out, stand up and say one word. “No.”

 

I walk over to the door where the knocking has persisted and open it. On the other side the retail employee stares wide eyed at the scene in front of them. My strapon still on and you hunched in the corner, freshly fucked. “Is there a problem?” I say. This question is met with frozen staring. “I didn’t think so,” I say and close the door. I put my clothes back on as you pull yourself together, trying to remember who you are. We exit the fitting room and you buy me everything I had picked out.