The Playboy's Proposition (3 page)

I said, “You know, there are a couple of places like this in
better parts of town. Places where I wouldn’t be afraid of catching a disease
from touching the front door.”

Michael laughed. “Those antiseptic places? There’s no fun in
that.”

I frowned. “They use antiseptics for a reason, you know.”

He laughed again. “You’re perfect. Just perfect. Come on.
Let’s go in.”

“I’m not going in there. It’s probably not safe.”

“Safe from what? Who do you think is in there? A bunch of
gangsters?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Let’s go find out.”

I eyed the place, looking around the parking lot to see if I
could spot anyone coming and going. There were a handful of cars in the parking
lot, but no one out walking around. “Seriously,” I said, “I don’t want to go in
there.”

Michael lost his smile. “Seriously, I want you to go in
there. With me. I’ll protect you. Trust me.”

I looked into his eyes. He wanted this from me. I felt that
if I argued any further, I’d be somehow implying that I didn’t believe he could
protect me. I didn’t want him to think that. But still. I sighed.

I said, “Okay, I’ll go in. But I’m not touching anything.”

He regained his smile. “No problem. I’ll do all the
touching,” he said, and squeezed my knee before he opened his door.

I was self-conscious when he helped me out of the car,
thanks to my panty-less state and the inherent difficulties of getting out of
small sports cars. This was insane. Going into a place like this with no
panties and no bra and who knew what kind of people inside.

True to his word, Michael held the door open for me when we
reached the building. I walked inside the tawdry place and took a look around.

Chapter 2

We were in a large room, well-lit, with lots of shelves
holding merchandise like books, movies, magazines and sex toys. It smelled like
plastic, and paper, and unwashed men.

There was a counter near the door where a grizzled elderly
man sat perched on a stool, looking bored as he watched a small television that
sat near the cash register. He glanced at us momentarily then returned to
watching TV. I would have thought seeing a woman in here would be a novelty for
him. Apparently not.

Michael said in a low voice, “Don’t make eye contact with
him or he might turn violent. You know what they say about animals like him.”

“Funny,” I said.

He chuckled, picked up a shopping basket by the door, then
put his free hand on the small of my back and steered me down one of the
aisles. He asked, “Have you ever been in a place like this?”

I glanced at the plastic-encased covers of the magazines we
were passing. Big boobs everywhere. Really big boobs. Giant boobs. What the
hell was wrong with men, anyway?

I said, “Once, when I was younger. Some friends and I went
to one of the nicer adult places in the city.”

He stopped and inspected the cover of a magazine that
catered to lovers of big butts. “What did you think about it?”

“We laughed a lot. I think the saleslady wanted to kick us
out.”

“Probably so,” he said. “What do you think about all these
magazines here? Hundreds of them. Look at all the different kinks.”

“I see. Have you got a thing for big butts? I notice you’re
seriously checking out ‘Asses Aplenty’ there.”

He shrugged, “It depends. Right now, I’ve only got eyes for
your cute little ass, my sweet.”

He steered me on down the aisle to a group of fetish
magazines, including a range of BDSM offerings. He pulled a few off the shelf
and dropped them into the shopping basket.

I didn’t get the chance to see what he had taken so I asked,
“What are you buying?”

“A couple of personal favorites. They’re for you. For
research, later.”

“Oh,” I answered stupidly.

“In fact,” he said as he led me out of the magazines and
into the DVD section, “this whole excursion is meant to be a shopping trip just
for you. How fun, right?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“I’ve never seen a woman who was unhappy to have things
bought for her.”

“That’s sexist. And anyway, I’m pretty suspicious of your
motives here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. My motives are obvious.”

I said, “Not to me.”

Michael’s pale blue eyes sparkled. “I want to thoroughly
corrupt you so I can do all sorts of filthy unspeakable things to your
delectable person. I really did think that was obvious.”

Oh my. I gulped, but recovered quickly and whispered, “Keep
your voice down. Please. I think that nasty perv over there heard you.”

I shot a glance at a middle-aged man standing not too far
away. He appeared to be something of a derelict and I didn’t like the way he
was looking at me.

Michael just shrugged then led me on past the gawking man,
and into another aisle, this one full of sex toys.

Michael said, “I want you to pick out a toy that you’d like
me to use on you. Go ahead, look around. Anything you’d like.”

Okay, I thought, this might be doable. I looked at a slender
rod-shaped latex toy with a flat end. The label said it was a butt plug. I
said, “Well, I don’t know for sure what this is for, but from the name, I’m
thinking it’s not something I’d like.”

“Pity.” Michael sighed. “It’s beginner size. Let’s take it
anyway, just in case.” He snatched it off the shelf and dropped it in the
basket.

“Put that back,” I hissed. “I do not want my butt plugged,
whatever the hell that means.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Michael said. “Keep looking.”

I surveyed the shelves, glancing right past some
gargantuan-sized butt plugs, the massive double-headed dildos and the
open-mouthed blow-up dolls. Oh hell no.

I didn’t comment when Michael picked up several items and
dropped them into the basket. He grabbed up three dildos of different sizes and
textures as well as a handheld vibrator.

I studied a very small vibrator. It was only about the
length of my index finger and about twice as wide around.

I said, “I guess you could use this on me.”

Michael snorted, tossed it in the basket and said, “I was
getting that anyway. Pick again.”

This was hard. I didn’t know what half of the stuff was for,
and the other half, I felt pretty sure I wasn’t up to trying. I soon found
myself at the rear corner of the building, rapidly running out of options to
select from.

I faced the loaded shelves and felt helpless. How
ridiculous, I thought. I wondered if I started giggling loudly would the old
man at the counter throw me out of the place? Rescued by an attack of the
giggles. Perfect.

 Michael stepped behind me, set the basket on the floor
beside us, and slipped his arms around my waist. I snuggled back against him.

He said, “Your brow is all furrowed up, you know. You look
like you’re having to choose an implement of torture.”

I sneaked a glimpse at the nearby row of whips and handcuffs
and riding crops. “Oh God. Don’t make me do that.”

He snorted. “I would never buy a torture device here. Those
things over there are shoddy play toys. We have real shops for the serious
tools. This place is just for fun.”

I only managed an mmm-hmm.

He squeezed me. “You’re a difficult person to understand,
Nonnie Crawford. In the club last week and back in your apartment, you were
different than you are right now. While I could see your inexperience, you were
willing to try new things, broaden your views. And now in this place, you’re
acting uptight and scared. You won’t even choose an item meant for your
pleasure.”

“I don’t know why I’m acting like this,” I admitted.

“You should relax. There’s nothing scary here, not the
customers, not the merchandise. Take a few deep breaths and relax.”

I breathed while he slowly ran his hands up and down my
arms, a soothing touch I hadn’t realized I needed.

He said, “Look at that package there, the one with the two
silver balls connected by a cord.”

I found the package. It was one of the items I had noticed
but didn’t know what it was supposed to be used for, or what it might do. The
balls were about an inch and a half in diameter.

Michael continued, “Those are called Ben Wa balls. They’re
supposed to have originally come from China, and have been used for centuries.”

He rubbed across my belly and over my hips. He said, “The
balls are hollow, with another smaller ball inside. They’re meant for pleasure.
Pick up the package. Feel the weight of them.”

I did as he asked. They were heavier than I thought they
would be. When I gently shook the package, I could feel the smaller balls
rolling around inside the larger ones.

Michael whispered close to my ear. “Imagine your legs spread
wide and me pushing those balls into you.” His fingers played with the fabric
of my skirt. I could feel him lifting the material slightly.

He whispered, “I’d have to oil them up pretty heavily
because they’re so big. You’d have to stretch to take them in. I can see your
pussy lips widening as I push one of the balls inside you.”

His words were beginning to affect me, but not so much that
I didn’t notice him slowly lifting my skirt. I nudged one of his hands, wanting
him to stop.

He said, “Shh,” and ignoring my hand, lifted my skirt
higher. “Close your eyes and give in to the moment, Nonnie. There’s no one back
here and they couldn’t see anyway because I’m behind you. Give in, sweet. Let
me show you what you’re meant to feel.”

I breathed deeply and tried to do as he asked. I wanted to
feel. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be led ... didn’t I? I closed my
eyes.

I knew the moment Michael had pulled my skirt up enough to
fully expose me, felt the open air on my skin. His fingers played over my upper
thighs and teased around the edges of my pussy. His hot breath sounded in my
ear.

He took the package of Ben Wa balls and dropped it into the
basket on the floor, then said, “I want you to hold up your skirt for me.”

I took a shaky breath and reached for the bunched up fabric
he had been holding. I fought my natural impulses to make him stop. Give in, I
told myself. Do as he asks. I clenched my skirt in my fisted palms.

“Good,” he said. Then his hands found my breasts and he
cupped them in his hands and squeezed them firmly. “Oh, yes. This is how I want
you. So open. Everything here for me. You don’t know how much this excites me,
knowing it’s hard for you and that you’re doing it anyway ... for me.”

He lightly pinched my nipples under the silky fabric of my
shirt. I squelched a moan. He said, “This next thing I want will be harder, but
you must do it, do you understand?”

I nodded. He exhaled harshly. I quickly said, “Yes, Master,
I understand.”

He kissed my ear then said, “You can drop the skirt in front,
but I want you to lift your skirt up over your ass. I want your bare ass up
against my jeans. Do it now. Don’t think, just do it.” And he pinched my
nipples harder with those last words.

And somehow, I did it. I bared my ass right there in that
store.

“Beautiful. Perfect,” he said. He slipped a hand between us
and kneaded one of my ass cheeks. “You’re wonderful,” he said, and I
practically purred from the praise.

I arched my back and pushed my ass harder against his groin.
I tried to control my rising need while I basked in this small moment of
surrender, of overcoming my feelings about this place, about what he wanted of
me, about what I wanted of myself.

I let everything go while he fondled me, stroked me, pinched
and aroused me.

Eventually he said in a husky voice, “Open your eyes and
look back to your left.”

On autopilot, I did as he asked. I think my heart stopped
beating for a moment at what I saw. It was the pervy man I had seen earlier. He
was watching us, watching me. I immediately stiffened.

Michael quickly said, “Don’t think. Remember. Don’t think.
Now look to your right.”

I did as he asked. Another two men were watching us, two
seedy-looking men watching me with Michael.

I tried to pull down my skirt but Michael held my hands and
said, “No, let them watch a few more minutes.”

I hissed, “No. I’m done here. I can’t do it.” I fought to
get my skirt down.

Michael said, “You can do it. Because I want you to. Because
deep down, you want to.”

“No! You told me I could say no and that you’d stop. I want
you to stop, now.”

He released me. I dropped the hem of my skirt, then turned
and glared at the three gawking men until they finally took my not-so-subtle
hint that they’d best clear the hell out, the show was over. All the while,
Michael stood there casually watching me, studying me, maybe.

I smoothed my clothes and tried to control my breathing. I
said as calmly as I could, “If we’re done here, I’d like to go now.”

“As you wish,” Michael said, and picked up the basket.

We didn’t speak while he ushered me up to the front of the
building. I looked straight ahead, avoiding any eye contact with the other
customers. In my opinion, we couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The old man at the counter took ages to ring up all of
Michael’s items, his gnarled old hands shaking from palsy, taking multiple
stabs at entering the prices into the cash register. The man didn’t look like
he could fight off a small child, let alone a dangerous hooligan, and I had to
admit that Michael was undoubtedly right about there not being much of a safety
issue in the place.

Finally, on the third try, the old man managed to complete
the sale and Michael and I headed to the car. And then we were driving away
from the sordid site. I exhaled in relief.

Michael asked me if I was hungry now, but I again told him
no, that I hadn’t even thought of food. He simply said okay, then didn’t speak
again. All the fun and pleasure of our ride to the porn shop was gone.

I snuck the occasional glance at him while he drove. His
handsome face was impassive. He didn’t appear angry, or even annoyed. In fact,
he looked pleasant enough. All the same, the silence bothered me. We were going
to have to talk about what happened, weren’t we?

I waited quite a long time, hoping he would open the
conversation. When this didn’t happen, I debated what I might say. I wasn’t
angry at Michael for what had happened. My reaction had been more panic than
anything else. Did he understand that? Should I tell him?

I hated the silence. It seemed to go on forever.

I settled on asking, “Are you mad at me? For stopping it?”

Michael answered simply, “No.”

I couldn’t read anything into his tone. It was just a no and
nothing else. That wasn’t telling me anything.

I said, “I just couldn’t do it. They were so ... ugh. It was
gross.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, they were nasty. All dirty, and pervy and ...
gross.”

“Oh,” Michael said. “So, if they were nice-looking, clean
men, then you wouldn’t have minded? You would have kept going as I asked you?”

“Well ... I don’t know. No, I don’t think I would. I guess I
haven’t thought about it.”

“You should think about it, Sweet. You had no problem
displaying yourself at the club the other night. How many people watched me
squeeze your breasts? And in the private room, all three of those people saw
you completely naked. You gave me a blow job in front of them.”

I was glad it was dark in the car so he couldn’t see my
blush. I said, “That was different.”