Masquerade

Masquerade

By Electric Badger

Chapter 4

For the next two hours, Eleanor went on a shopping spree.  It wasn’t too hard to find stores open late on Friday night, and cliché as it was she was a girl who never lacked enthusiasm for new things.  Besides, this was the best sort of shopping possible: Kevin would pay for everything, and when he realized what she’d done – and she wondered how long that would take – he’d blame everything on Elise.  He’d hate the bitch for it!  You really can’t buy better revenge than that.  Well, actually, that was exactly what she was doing…anyways. 

She got the hell away from the WAC first of all; she didn’t want to be seen at the hotel any more than necessary.  Her plan was good, she thought – but that might just have been the effects of the booze.  Speaking of which, first stop was the all night corner store.  Being Washington, which was a pansy state when it came to selling alcohol, all they had was beer – which wouldn’t mix well – and wine coolers.  It was good enough to keep the buzz, though, and she threw two back as soon as she paid for them.  With a chuckle she realized she’d have to piss again soon.  Not that she was planning to do that to Kevin again, as it really wasn’t her usual thing, but it had been a lot of fun to degrade him. 

The next stop was an ATM.  Normally, a wad of filched credit cards wouldn’t hold much promise for her; sure, hardly anyone checked the damn things, but if someone did she was fucked, and probably on camera.  Even if she ran, that could undo all her trickery.  But the company had its own secure database, one that used a four digit PIN – ‘just like a bank card,’ they’d said – for the CPAs to get access.  A couple months ago, while she’d been warming up on Kevin, she’d lost her own access due to some indecipherable IT screw up.  Kevin, gallant and horny hero that he was, had provided his own.  It was reasonable to assume that he used the same code on multiple things, just for simplicity, and a few minutes with the ATM confirmed it.  On every single one of his debit cards.  Jesus, the pig almost deserved it after that.  He had some major cash, too – holy crap, he had over fifty thousand in his checking accounts.  The partnership paid well, but that was still nearly a year’s salary; who the hell kept that much money around?  No wonder he’d never done a girl’s ass before, he must never get out to do anything.  She took out a grand – his cards were capped, of course, but she was more than content.  It sent a great message, that Elise would take anything from him she could, and it padded tonight’s expenses. 

Then it was back to the sex shop she’d visited earlier.  The walk was more interesting this time; the night was colder, which sent a shock between her legs, an area still wet from her juices and Kevin’s mess.  She also realized just how short her skirt was; at the office, with hose, it was risqué.  In the hilly stretches of down town, without a scrap underneath, it wasn’t much more than a display case.  She loved it at first, but blushed red when two boys behind her on an escalator openly commented about her hairless cunt – she even heard the recorded clicking sound effect of a camera phone – but she only pressed her thighs together and refused to turn around.  The last thing she wanted was her face on some internet up-skirt photograph.  When she reached her destination she was humiliated and wet all over again, wondering how many people had caught a glimpse on the way. 

The first thing she did was survey the racks for underwear, and she wasn’t disappointed.  It was trashy: the sort of stuff internet porn models wore, designed to display more than cover; just lace, mesh and translucent fabric.  It would provide a bit more decency on the rest of the shopping trip, however, and that’s all she needed.  A couple collars and leashes were next, and an anorexic, tattooed sales girl with purple hair named Rachel helped her to find some dildos.  Since she’d never put out, Elise may have been more of a prude than Eleanor thought.  If the two victims compared stories later she wanted them to match, so Elise’s ass was going to have to hurt in the morning.  The thought sent its own thrill through her body, and again Eleanor was taken aback.  Why all the excitement over a chick?  Sure the girl was pretty – she was gorgeous, the slut – and she’d been so nice once, before all this started.  Hell, she’d even displayed some of the submissive traits that had made Kevin so appealing once.  For an uncomfortable month she’d even started to think the younger girl was hitting on her, until she stole Kevin and proved which team she batted for. 

Rachel dropped a hint about her own team, however, with a frank offer to help Eleanor test out her new purchases, and Eleanor followed up with delight.  Maybe she could get this out of her system, and although it was Elise’s sensual, classy body that she was lusting for, her rival was unconscious – and unlikely to be appreciative when she woke up, either.  So she and the clerk flirted and touched one another, groping and laughing over their own obscenity as they perused the toys and began to assemble a sizable pile of merchandise.  After all, a lot of her haul would have to be left with Elise; when this little shopping extravaganza came to light, that skank would have to think the shopping trip was her own purchases just as much as Kevin would.  They piled on straps, whips, more handcuffs and a couple of PVC suits in Elise’s size – the mental picture of her fellow CPA coming to the office dressed in one was just too hilarious to resist, as was the thought of the girl waking up in something really nasty.  She bought condoms and two chastity belts – it felt so damn poetic – and pulled Rachel into the dressing room when she was trying on a harness. 

The girl was eager and willing, the classic Capitol Hill counter culture lesbian, a half dozen years younger than Eleanor – just out of the nest and rebelling against her parents.  She’d settle down in a couple years, probably, become just another vapid suburban housewife with a dried up twat and memories of a phase, but for now she’d do anything.  So Eleanor didn’t waste words.  Once the strap on was cinched in place she just pushed the girl to her knees, taking a hard handful of the bright purple hair and plunging the rubber cock down the sales girl’s face.  She gagged and sputtered, but grinned as she flashed her tormentor a challenging look.  The next thrusts slipped into her throat without difficulty; obviously the little lezzie knew how to handle dick, too. 

Sexy as the view was, pleasuring a dildo didn’t do much for Eleanor.  Lifting the black rubber penis she pushed Rachel lower, against her pussy, and made guttural sounds of pleasure as the clerk attended her.  The little dyke knew what to do with another woman, or Eleanor’s first time with a woman – well, first time with a willing and conscious one, anyways – was too much.  She grunted through an orgasm that made up for Kevin’s immature fumbling, cumming over and over while Rachel refused to stop. 

When her legs threatened to give out Eleanor took charge again.  She still hadn’t bothered to ask permission for anything, even unspoken, and it was such a turn on that she kept with it.  She pulled the girl up, tearing hairs out to pry her away from wet cunt.  Eleanor bent the girl over without a word, pulling Rachel’s pink thong to the side and flipping the black skirt up onto her back.  She dipped a finger into the girl’s pussy, grinning at the moisture and Rachel’s sharp gasp, then she leaned forward, lined up her rubber cock and drove into the girl. 

She pounded Rachel like she’d thrust against Kevin, hard and brutal.  Usually she built her subs up to this point, long and slow, but tonight Eleanor just didn’t give a shit.  She wasn’t a safe, sane and consensual loving dominatrix.  She was a fucking bitch.  She wasn’t even human, just lust and need and tits and pussy and ass.  Rachel was too oblivious to care, though; she loved it. She moaned, and when she tried to muffle the sounds so other customers wouldn’t hear Eleanor spanked her pale cheeks and told her to scream.  She did, and begged for more, so loud anyone shopping would hear it, and probably anyone passing by on the street, too.  When Rachel came, Eleanor slipped from her pussy and drove into her ass with no more lubrication than her pussy juice.  She gave a few hard pushes to end the passion in a burst of pain and lust.  The purple haired girl cursed her for it, screaming at the violation and claiming to have been a virgin there, but Eleanor just left her squirming on the floor, hands holding her butt in agony. 

       Stepping from the curtained room, Eleanor saw a crowd standing in stunned, lust filled silence and a pimple faced geek rooted at the counter with eyes wider than his face.  She glared at him, unbuckling the harness and changing into a pair of lace panties before flipping her skirt back into place, too worked up to care that a dozen people saw her flash of nudity.  “Ring me up, or do I have to fuck your ass too?”  The boy blanched and sped through the purchase.  He didn’t even glance at the name on Kevin’s corporate purchasing card – that would be a fun one for her coworker to explain next month – and as soon as her bags were packed he sprinted towards the dressing rooms.  Eleanor wondered if he was going to help Rachel recover or finish fucking her, and hoped he’d do the latter. 

On the way back to the hotel she stumbled past the brightly lit façade of a tattoo parlor and it seemed to leap out from the line of cinder block buildings along the sidewalk to catch her attention.  She stepped inside to flip through books of art and pictures, her mind roiling with ideas of how to get one of her captives tattooed.  She’d had a sissy boy take her initials as a tattoo once, in her college days; a little EE right across his cock.  The memory still turned her on even though everything else about that relationship had been a complete failure.  She’d give anything to see ‘Slut’ or ‘whore’ inked across Elise’s ass when she awoke, and a tat would be just the thing to completely flip Kevin out.  But even drunk off her ass none of the ideas she came up with seemed remotely viable, which probably meant they were self destructively stupid.  Not that any of her plans tonight weren’t, but still: there was no way to get him down here and have him agree to what she wanted, especially without revealing her own identity, and if she brought in a passed out girl to have her labeled a whore the police would be involved.  With a huff she gave up, and was turning to leave when her eyes alighted on the rings.  Now those, they had some potential!

It only took a few minutes with her blackberry’s web browser to find out what needed and another minute to memorize the technical details.  Stepping up to the counter, she caught the attention of an overweight man, shirtless, covered from head to fingertips with skulls and motorcycles.  A name badge identified him as Joe – she winced as she realized the pin must be sticking through the skin of his chest.  “Hey, Joe – I’m a piercer from KC, came to Seattle for a bachelorette party…well, long story short, my stuff is at home but the girls are guilting me into working all night – kind of a girl power thing, and a surprise for hubby.  I need to buy some supplies; dozen 14 gauge needles, some goo….” She blathered on with some more recently-learned lingo while Joe looked at her doubtfully.  She couldn’t really blame him; she was obviously wasted, felt barely clothed, and after all the recent fucking she had to look like hell and smell like a whorehouse.  She hoped that fit into her story, a bunch of wild girls on a bender, but in the end she felt pretty certain he was only convinced by the quantity of gear she wanted and the wad of Kevin’s cash. 

Beaming with a sadistic glee, Eleanor rushed through the rest of her shopping; normally she would have lingered over the racks, but it was late and she found herself more enticed by what awaited her than the items in display cases.  Nevertheless, she managed to accumulate several dresses, a collection of jewelry and an armload of lingerie.  If the sex didn’t traumatize Kevin into dumping the slut, finding himself out nearly five thousand dollars should do the trick.