Naughty Massage at the Mall: A Tale of Public Lesbian Exhibitionism by Lacey Starlove

Author:Lacey Starlove [Starlove, Lacey]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

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Enjoy this story? Check out another Lacey Starlove tale about exhibitionism at the mall in Bad Things In Public.

Ashley looked out the window while John drove. He had woken her up this morning and told her to take a shower and do her hair and makeup. But when she asked what she should wear, curiously, he said it didn’t matter, just make it quick.

So she had just put on a comfortable pair of bra and panties, jeans, and a T-shirt. Despite what he had told her, when she walked out of the bedroom, she was worried he would be angry at her casual choice.

But John just looked at her and said, “Good. Let’s go.” She let out a sigh of relief.

As they sped along the highway, Ashley looked over at her husband in the driver’s seat. He hadn’t told her where they were going, and she wondered if it would be okay to ask. She was getting nervous. All he had said was that they were on their way to her punishment. And he had brought the black bag with them.

She had to risk it. “Am...am I allowed to know where we’re going...sir?” she asked reluctantly.

“We’re going to the mall.”

She almost wanted to laugh. Her imagination had been running wild on her. She had imagined all sorts of horrible dungeons or torture chambers where he might be taking her. But the mall? What could be so bad there?

When they arrived, he took her straight to the restrooms. He took a smaller, white bag out of the black bag and handed it to her.

“Go into the ladies’ room,” he told her, “and change into this. Strip completely nude first, and only wear what’s in the bag and nothing else.”

She went into the nearest stall and removed her clothing. When she opened the bag, she let out a gasp. All that was in there was a shirt, a skirt, and a pair of shoes. There was no underwear. The shoes were a black pair of high heels. The shirt was a stretchy, white, low-cut, cotton undershirt with spaghetti straps. It looked to be about two sizes too small. The skirt was a mini-skirt, solid grey, and the shortest she had ever seen.

Ashley changed into her assigned wardrobe and stepped out of the stall. There was a frumpy woman in her late 50s patting at her perm in the mirror. The woman glanced over at Ashley and didn’t even try to hide the distaste on her face when she saw what she was wearing.

Ashley looked at herself in the mirror and gasped. The shirt clung to her skin like paint and the small amount of her large tits that were actually covered were straining against the fabric so hard, she thought the shirt might rip. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The material was of a kind that gets significantly more see-through the more it’s stretched. The fabric was stretched so tight across her chest, it was almost completely transparent. Her nipples could clearly be seen.

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