GROCERY RUN

Rose P. Lethe

With only two items on the list—cumin and dish soap—it should have been a quick trip, especially at this time of day. At just past eight on a Tuesday night, even the crowds at the big-box store Jess frequented would be thinning. She would pop inside, grab the two items that hadn’t made it onto her weekly grocery list the first time, and then pop back out. It would be easy—ten minutes at most if she hurried.

And Jess would hurry. Valerie had certainly seen to that.

“You tend to get distracted,” she had said, with Jess bare-bottomed and bent over her lap, ponytail swaying as she wiggled. “Let’s see if we can’t do something about that.”

A pair of Ben Wa balls in her cunt and a metal plug in her ass—“The sooner you get home, the sooner they come out.” So yes, Jess would hurry.

The plug in particular was a bully. It was small but heavy, with a curve so sharp that she felt it in her pussy as well as her ass. Even through two walls of skin, the thick bulb at the end could put a pressure against her stupidly sensitive G-spot that was heavenly, usually.

With the added Ben Wa balls, it was hellish. Both holes felt overly full, and every step seemed to rock the toys’ weight into her sweet spot, producing a sensation that was almost like a cramp. It made her want to stay in her parked car, just curl up in the driver’s seat and not move for hours.

But she had the shopping to finish.

So she got out, trudged across the asphalt, and passed through the automatic doors into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the store. She was waddling a bit, walking like she had a massive pole between her legs. It seemed unreal that something so small—each toy could fit in one palm—made her throb like this, not just in her cunt or ass but throughout her whole abdomen. A pulse of discomfort, dull but insistent, moved through her like ripples in a pond until she was walking with one arm curled protectively around her lower belly, her handbag threatening to slide off her drooping shoulder.

Cumin, she reminded herself, and dish soap.

The baking aisle was deserted, so Jess paused in front of the spices for a brief respite.

Valerie had used a veritable flood of lube earlier, inserting the balls and then the plug. It was beginning to leak out of her now. She could feel her panties clinging to her vulva as she tilted her hips, her labia slipping along her clit as she squeezed her thighs together, a growing wet sensation between her asscheeks even as she stood still.

It was filthy and embarrassing, but the bad sort. Why was she doing this?

Her handbag buzzed once, then twice. She shrugged it off her shoulder and fished her phone from its depths. Sure enough, there was an incoming call. Valerie mobile, said the screen.

Jess answered with a tense “Hello?”

“Hey.” There was a melodic quality to Valerie’s soft, chipper voice, the way she drew out the vowel like a musical note. Just hearing it drained some of the tension in Jess’s body. “How’s it going?”

“It’s…” Jess considered. It would be so easy to say, I don’t like this. So easy to say, Red, and be allowed to make the discomfort stop. “Intense,” she decided.

There was a pause. Jess pictured Valerie on the couch, twirling her glossy brown hair around one finger as she analyzed Jess’s tone. “Are you alone?”

Jess glanced around. The aisle was still empty, but she could hear the shuffle of footsteps nearby and the distant squeak of cart wheels. “Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do you call me?”

And just like that, Jess remembered herself. The discomfort didn’t matter, nor did the filthiness and embarrassment of standing in the middle of a store with both her cunt and asshole slick and full. She wasn’t here because she needed to finish the shopping; she was here because Valerie had told her to come. Valerie had wanted her to do this.

Jess swallowed, ducked her head, and answered in a barely audible whisper: “Daddy.”

She burned from her cheeks to her ears and all the way to her nape. Another glance reassured her that no one was around, no one could hear her, but even the possibility that someone could walk by, see her standing here calling her girlfriend Daddy over the phone…

“Is it uncomfortable?” Valerie asked. There was a smile in her voice that made Jess want to hide her face in shame—the good sort—knowing she was about to be toyed with.

“Yes, Daddy.” Jess shifted her weight, jostling the toys and making them press into her G-spot anew. Her breath caught, and there was a quaver in her voice. “It’s too much. I’m too full.”

“I know.” Valerie’s voice dripped with mocking sympathy. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you? Hmm. How about this? Give me a little squeeze of those thighs.”

Jess did hide her face this time, covering it with her free hand while humiliation and—god help her—the stirrings of arousal poured over her like hot wax. Squeezing her thighs was how she liked to come. She breathed into the receiver, “Daddy, I’m in public.”

“Alone in public. Or did you lie to Daddy?”

Lowering her hand, Jess scanned the aisle. Still deserted but for her, no one even passing by on the ends.

“Of course you didn’t,” Valerie said warmly. “Because you’re a good girl. So be good and squeeze for me.”

For you.

Jess crossed one foot over the other and squeezed her thighs together. The balls slipped a little deeper into her cunt, and the plug gave a little wobbling thrust into her ass. It felt like she was being jabbed in her G-spot, but fuck if her clit didn’t throb at the motion.

“That’s it,” Valerie crooned into her ear. “Another.”

Jess obeyed, squeezing again and again while her gaze darted from one end of the aisle to the other, watching for passersby. When she came, it was a pitiful thing, nothing more than a weak ripple through her clit, accompanied by a huff into the receiver, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t her orgasm. It was Daddy’s.

“That’s it. Perfect,” said Valerie, sounding so pleased, so proud, that something in Jess pitched upward and soared. “You did so well.”

Feeling light and giddy, she snatched the cumin from the shelf. It wasn’t quite the floaty nothingness of subspace, but it was as near as she wanted to come to it in public. Her cunt was looser and wetter now, the pressure and the fullness less uncomfortable than before.

Heading for the dish soap, she whispered into the phone, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Don’t forget to get yourself a candy bar,” Valerie said. “You’ve earned it.”