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My beloved said to me that if he saw one more story that dealt with
being commanded to shave one's pussy and go to the mall, it wouldn't be
a pretty sight. Of course, I take this sort of statement as a
challenge, same as I did when he said (a long time ago) that a person
can't say "some of my best friends are perverts" (and I wrote a story
about *that*, too). So, one late night, I took a hot bubble bath, and
then I most carefully shaved my pussy. And the next morning, I went off
to the mall. I was wearing a lacy bra, a garterbelt, stockings, high
heels, a short skirt, and a silk blouse -- no panties. I intended to
have some fun.

The first place I went was Frederick's of Hollywood, as some other
poster once mentioned. I knew that they wouldn't actually let me try on
panties and such, but I thought it would be fun to shock the salesgirls
a little. So I went in and started fingering some of the merchandise,
picking it up, examining it closely, and all that. And every single
thing I picked up I managed to drop on the floor.

Well, as we all know, my knees aren't in the best of shape, so rather
than squat down to pick up each item, I simply bent over. Each time I
did so, my skirt rode up my ass. And each time, the salesgirl closest
to me got a nice long look at my wet pink lips before I straightened up
again.

I made sure I flashed them all, and then I left without buying anything.
I don't like Frederick's anyway. Next I headed for the knife and tool
shop, thinking to give the guys who worked there a thrill. I stood in
front of the display case, asking questions of one of the salesmen, and
leaning way way over to point to knives at the very bottom, while
displaying my pussy to the guy at the other side of the room. Then I'd
go to the other display case and do the same thing. I was proud to note
as I walked out that both of them had hardons...and I put an extra
wiggle in my ass just for them.

I covered several shops in this way, taking time in each one to bend
over and display my cunt for the nice people in the shops. I could tell
I was having an effect, and I was enjoying myself. I felt I was taking
revenge on all the people who wrote fiction about shaving their pussies
and going to the mall, when some of them probably didn't even *have*
pussies to shave or write about. And I felt, on top of it, that I was
getting very wet flashing all these people, and I couldn't wait to go
home and rev up my vibrator.

I proceeded to the second level of the mall to have some more fun. The
second level has these little areas where people can stand around and
look down on the people below them. I knew that if I stood there,
eventually someone would look up, and that person would be able to see
right up my skirt. I stood with my legs spread slightly to make it
easier, one foot sort of up on the little railing and my pelvis cocked
to the floor below.

I must say I enjoyed the reactions I got. Men, women, teenagers, all
got a lovely view of my yummy cunt, and I got hot watching them react.
A lot of the men passed by several times. I began to think seriously
about trying somehow to masturbate for them, but I wasn't sure how I'd
do that without being *too* blatant. Though why I was worrying at that
point I wasn't sure.

I was thinking to myself that it was just about time to take my drooling
pussy home, when a tap on my shoulder made me turn. There in front of
me was a mall Rent-a-Cop, complete with nightstick and gun. My eyes
widened, and unaccountably my cunt got wetter.

"Miss?" he said. "Come with me. We've had complaints about you from
all over the mall, and we can't have this kind of behavior here."

"What kind of behavior?" I asked innocently, perfectly aware that my
pussy juices were starting to run down the insides of my thighs.

"Indecent exposure, Miss," he said. "Now come with me. I'm going to
have to photograph you and fingerprint you for our records, and then
escort you to your car."

I bit my lip. Fingerprinting me wasn't a good idea -- for me that is.
I hadn't exactly lived a pristine life, and if this fellow checked the
records carefully enough -- or if someone else did -- it could make my
future very uncomfortable. So I thought fast, and thought hard -- and
then I realized that my friend was thinking hard too. Quite hard. I
realized that he must be getting a noseful of my special sauce.

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"Listen, officer," I said, "I really didn't mean to make any trouble. I
was just horny this morning and I wanted to have a little fun."

"I can tell you're horny," he said dryly, and he took my arm firmly and
began to walk me toward one of the little access corridors in the mall.
Once we were out of view of mall patrons, I twisted out of his grip and
backed up against a wall. I let my breasts heave a little, and I tried
to smile engagingly.

"Really, officer," I said, "I promise I won't do it again, okay?" As I
spoke I grasped the sides of my skirt and pulled up on it, hiking it up
above my hips. My friend got a good view of my swollen pussy and my
lingerie, such as it is. I figured he'd either get indignant and march
me straight down to the security office -- in which case i wouldn't be
any worse off than I already was -- or he would take me up on the
implied invitation. Hey, I've sold myself for less worthy causes.

He drew in his breath sharply, and I closed my eyes and arched my back,
thrusting my breasts out towards him. For good measure I licked my lips
too. I felt his mouth on mine, and then I thought of England, even
though I've never been there.

He pushed his body up against mine, cupping one hand under my cunt and
squeezing my tit with the other. I could feel his cock pressing against
my thigh, and I wondered what he was going to want me to do with it. I
supposed I could suck it if I had to, or even let him fuck me, but I was
kind of hoping that when all was said and done he'd be content with a
hand job. After all, it wasn't like I was going to get a tip for this.

All of a sudden, he stepped back from me, and I heard a click.
Surprised, I opened my eyes, and found myself staring at his gun. It
was aimed right between my eyes, and he was smiling cruelly at me. I
realized that his other hand was working at the fly of his uniform
pants, pulling out his dick. I bit my lips on a scream, knowing that
attracting the attention of other official types would not really
improve my position. Maybe he wasn't going to kill me. Maybe he just
wanted to up the ante on the thrill a little bit. Hey, I could go along
with that.

He came closer to me again, taking me by the hair and pulling my head
back. The gun caressed my temple, then slid down over my cheek, my
throat, my breast. I gasped and moaned, frightened and repelled, but at
the same time knowing that I was very, very excited. I never question
my perverse reactions; they just are. I pulled away from him a little
and looked him in the eyes, trying not to shake.

"I'll do anything you want," I pleaded. "Anything. Please."

"Yeah, you will," he agreed. His gun continued to travel over my body,
coming to rest between my thighs. He kicked my feet apart and rubbed
the snout of the gun all over my slippery cunt. When I cried out in
mixed fear and arousal, he slid it in me, fucking it in and out. I felt
my pussy contract around the cold metal, then open up, taking the length
of the barrel as far as it would go inside. My nipples hardened to achy
points, a fact he soon discovered when he yanked my blouse open to
expose my tits.

"Fucking bitch," he said, slapping me over and over. His stinging slaps
landed on my face and my breasts, turning them red, getting me yet more
excited. I made a soft mewing sound and turned my mouth to his slaps,
getting a mouthful of blood as his hand landed full across my lips. I
kissed and licked his fingers, blood dripping from my lips, and I heard
him groan with lust. He pulled the gun out of my cunt and shoved it in
my mouth, and I licked it -- not clean, but what's a little blood on
one's gun anyway.

He grabbed me by the hair and pushed me to my knees, where I came face
to, uh, face with his erect, pulsing cock. He twisted his hips,
slapping my bruised face with it, and when I opened my mouth to cry out,
he shoved it in. Simultaneously I felt the gun against my temple. A
spurt of fluid against my thigh told me I had just pissed on myself, and
feeling horribly ashamed and aroused I began to suck on his cock. He
pulled my hair, moving me up and down on him, and I made sounds of need
deep in my throat, wordlessly begging him to fuck me, to come in me, to
use me.

He called me names like "cuntfaced whore" over and over again as he
pumped my mouth, and I sucked desperately at him, needing him, until
finally he came, shooting deep in my ravaged throat. He held himself
against me for a moment or two, and then he pulled out of me, limp and
wet, and zipped himself back up. He also holstered the gun. I remained
on my knees until he took my hands and pulled me up.

"Wow, Miss, you're a mess," he said, and I nodded dumbly, trying to
rearrange myself. I fastened my blouse, pulled my skirt down, and
patted at my face with tissues, while he offered a word or two of
encouragement. Finally I looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"Would you escort me to my car, officer?" I asked him. With a sheepish
grin, he offered his arm, and we strolled out the back entrance to the
parking lot, where I got into my car and drove away.

Sometimes it pays to shop around.