Once again Amber is up to mischief, luring her BFF and sometimes lover, Lucy, to the bedroom section of a department store just as the store is closing. Shy Lucy has no inkling of what lies in store (pun intended) as Amber convinces her that it’s quite all right to have a quiet kiss and a cuddle in the biggest, softest bed. No one is around to stop them…
Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains explicit sex scenes and/or situations (including light bondage, all forms of menage and multiple lesbian partners) and adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.
“Sergeant Bloomfield, come in!” the guard snapped. Cold fear chilled my whole body. He wasn’t bluffing – he really was prepared to report us.
“Bloomfield,” the radio hissed. “Zat you, Henry?” I sagged as the voice hammered home the reality of our situation. The guard had actually contacted the authorities to report us.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Henry replied.
“You got a problem down at the store?”
Henry lowered the radio momentarily. He met my terrified gaze.
“Well?” he said. “Do we have a problem here?”
Amber dropped into a crouch before I could blink. Henry’s huge member disappeared into her open mouth and she began fellating him deeply. He sighed with satisfaction and laid a big hand on the back of her head, pulling her onto his stiffening cock. She took him deep into her mouth, gagging slightly as he touched the back of her throat.
Oh my God…
“I said….do we have a PROBLEM?” I jumped, shocked back to reality.
“I…” I squeaked. My throat was refusing to work properly. The air seemed dry – abrasive. Henry raised the radio again and opened his mouth to answer the Sergeant.
“No…” I croaked. “Please…”
“No…we don’t have a problem…”
Henry rocked his head as he mimicked my tiny voice. “We don’t have a problem…what?”
“We don’t have a problem…sir?”
“Henry?” the radio crackled. “Everything all right there?”
“You! Little Miss!” Henry barked. His timid sidekick seemed to snap to attention.
“Sir?” she shrilled.
“Undress that one – slowly!”
“As you wish, sir.” The small woman stepped towards me and I found myself leaning back from her eager hands.
Henry shook his head at me. “Well, Sergeant..”
Amber managed to achieve the impossible. Still sucking on Henry’s thick cock, she glared at me, urging me to co-operate.
“…it seems, unfortunately…”
I groaned and pulled myself up straight. Henry’s colleague reached for the buttons on my blouse and unpicked them, one at a time, using only her fingertips. Henry nodded approvingly. He waited until my blouse slipped from my shoulders before he continued his conversation.
“…blind spots…must have…word with the management.”
“Blind spots?” Bloomfield echoed.
“Radio blind sp… Yeah. Just… basement, it looks like.” Henry’s gaze met mine and I knew that he had won. He hadn’t been bluffing. It seems that he’d surrender us to the police if we didn’t co-operate fully.
I knew then that we were his playthings. The very idea of having to obey this man’s every command filled me with anger. And terror. I felt a tug at the hem of my skirt and watched miserably as it slid to the floor, leaving me dressed only in my lingerie and stockings.
“Not bad…” Henry grinned and I shuddered. The small woman paused, clasping her hands together before her belly. I found a moment to wonder why she was playing along with him – why she was saying nothing about his blatant abuse of power.
“Well, let me know if you have any real problems down there. Bloomfield out.”
Henry returned the radio to his belt. “We’re not going to have any problems…” he fixed me with a hard stare. “Are we?”
I shook my head.
“ARE WE?” he snapped.
“No, sir,” I barked.
“No, sir,” his colleague muttered.
“Mm-mm,” Amber mumbled. Henry pulled her towards him until her nose touched his shirt. She gagged and pulled back. He allowed her a few inches, then pulled her onto him again. The sound of her choking and half-retching dismayed me – but it was a sound I’d heard many times before. When Amber pleasured a man, she always went to the max. The guys always seemed to enjoy it, but I couldn’t see the fascination. Once, I’d even let her talk me into trying out this ‘deep throat’ technique, but I just felt faint and began to panic every time my throat was obstructed. We’d eventually agreed to differ. My technique was more sort of slow and very, very sticky with a great deal of saliva involved. That was very much appreciated.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Little Miss?” Henry’s voice snapped me back to the present.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.” She stepped up and for the first time, she looked straight at me.
“I’ve been instructed to undress you, Miss,” she said briskly, her timidity vanished like morning frost. For a brief moment, as she stood before me in her severe uniform, I imagined that I was being readied for a strip-search and that she was a prison warden. I shivered at the idea.
It could still happen, I realised. A real strip search – in a real prison. If we don’t do exactly as we’re told. I remained still, determined not to co-operate any more than was absolutely necessary as she reached around to my back and unhooked my bra. It slithered off my shoulders and joined my skirt on the floor. My hands twitched, ready to cover my exposed breasts, but Henry glared at me and I elected to let my arms hang limply at my sides. Little Miss dropped to her knees and my knickers ended up around my ankles. I let out the breath that I’d been holding as cool air wafted over my crotch. At least I hadn’t had to suffer the indignity of having Henry’s fingers between my legs.
“Check her out then!” Henry barked impatiently.
“Sir?” Little Miss frowned.
“Is she wet?” He rolled his eyes. “Or do I have to check for myself?”
Oh hell… I stiffened, expecting the increasingly confident little woman to reach for my crotch, but she remained a respectful distance away.
“I should remind you, sir, that touching without consent – .”
Henry held up an impatient finger, but his lips remained pursed.
All I have to do is say no? I glanced at him, but his big fingers were already curling around the radio.
“It’s all right, Little Miss,” I sighed. “You might as well go ahead.” I threw a glare at Henry, who narrowed his eyes, then returned a warning glance. If I had to suffer this indignity, I’d left him in no doubt that I was under duress.
Annie Oakfield is a keen writer and has been penning naughty stories since she hit puberty – and she hit it hard.
Back then, most of her stories were simply erotic fantasies that she shared with only a few close, virginal friends. But with time, many men, several orgies and a number of obliging couples, Annie now writes stories that closely mirror her real-life erotic experiences.
The Bucket List was inspired by an actual list that she and three girlfriends composed one late and wine-soaked evening.
Annie considers herself to be omnisexual (anyone, anyplace) but she is often tickled by the phrase: ‘Bisexuals are just greedy people.’