Supermarket Sweep

 

One day I had a surprise at the checkout of the local
supermarket. I had paid for my shopping, when I saw the
Supervisor stroll across to me. “May I invite you to
have a chat with our manageress,” she said. “There is
nothing the matter, but she wants to ask a favour of
you.”

I noticed all the checkout women smiling and nodding at
me as I was ushered into a small office. I was
introduced to a smart looking tall woman of about forty
who told me her name was Clare. She welcomed me and gave
me coffee out of a jug standing on her desk. She shook
hands with me and said, “Mrs Bennett, I don’t know if
you know, but each year the women working here have a
party.

We all drink a little too much and have a good time with
no men present. One of the features of the evening is
the crowning of the Supermarket Princess.

“Call me Pam,” I replied, “How can I help?”

“Well, Pam,” she said, “Usually we have a candidate for
Princess right here in the store. The checkout girls
usually elect the youngest and prettiest of their
number. But this year, there just is not a suitable
girl. They are all too old. Now, we have naturally
discussed what is to be done and someone suggested your
daughter. I gather she is very popular here.”

I have been shopping there for a few years and I suppose
the checkout girls have got to know Wendy and me. I felt
proud that they liked Wendy enough to choose her as
their Princess, and felt comfortable with me so they
could ask me. “That sounds possible,” I said, “but of
course I will have to ask her.”

Clare was pleased at my reaction, “I must tell you that
these evenings sometimes get a little out of hand. Of
course, you will be there, but the women will be
disappointed if Wendy does not enter into the fun of the
evening. Do you think that will be alright with her?”

I told her that I thought Wendy would love the attention
and was told that she would certainly have plenty of
that. “All the checkout girls really fancy her, you
know,” said the manageress. What on earth did she mean?

As I went past the checkouts on the way out of the
store, the girls smiled at me and several made a thumbs
up sign. I felt they were all appealing me to ensure
that my daughter agreed to be their Princess. I would of
course ask her, but I felt I already knew what her
answer would be. Wendy loves to be the centre of
attention and this promised to be a good party. When
Wendy came in from school, I put the supermarket’s
request to her. She agreed at once.

Next day, when I went shopping, I asked to see the
manageress. “Well, Pam.” she said, “What did Wendy say?”

She was delighted to hear that Wendy was to be the
Princess, and went to tell all the women. When she
returned she told me that the girls had elected one of
them called Debbie to be the Princess’s Lady in Waiting.

“This means that she will look after Wendy and make her
costume.” Clare told me. She pressed a button on her
telephone and said, “Send in Debbie, please.”

Debbie was a woman of about thirty, small and neat.
“Debbie,” said Clare. “May I introduce our Princess’s
mother?”

Debbie was delighted to hear that she was to be Wendy’s
attendant and made an arrangement to visit us that
evening. Since the crowning was to be in seven days,
there was no time to be lost in making the costume. When
Debbie arrived, as agreed I went out for a couple of
hours so they could agree on the costume and Debbie
could take Wendy’s measurements.

When I returned, Debbie had gone. Wendy flatly refused
to tell me the details of the outfit. “You will see it
on the night,” she said. During the next week, every
time I went shopping, the checkout girls thanked me for
letting Wendy be their princess. I felt the atmosphere
heating up as the great day approached. I still did not
know what the Princess’s costume was to be, as Debbie
and Wendy kept it secret! I received my invitation. As
the Princess’s mother, I was to be an honoured guest and
sit with Clare, the manageress.

When the great night came, Wendy went off first with
Debbie, who carried a costume well wrapped up. The
Princess was to be robed in her own bedroom at the hotel
where the function was to be held. Wendy came to kiss me
goodbye. “The next time you see me, I will be wearing
the costume,” She said. “I hope you will like me in it.”
And she kissed me on the mouth.

I saw Debbie watching and her smile told me she fully
approved of our mother/daughter kiss. They went off in a
taxi and I went to dress and made my way to the hotel.

The party was to be held in a big function room. I found
it and went in. Immediately, one of the checkout women I
knew came to me and welcomed me. As she took me to my
table, the women stood and clapped as I went past. She
brought me to a table just below the stage, where Clare
was sitting. I noticed after I sat down there were still
two vacant places.

Everyone looked very nice, dressed in long evening
dresses. Not at all like the overalls of the working
day. Clare thanked me profusely, telling me that I was
not to worry about the evening. She told me that the
women were out to enjoy themselves but that she, Clare
would make sure things did not get out of hand. She said
that Wendy and Debbie would be joining us for dinner
after the crowning ceremony. The stage curtains were
drawn shut, so I realised that the ceremony would be
taking place there.

I heard footsteps behind the curtain and muffled voices.
Debbie appeared beside us, “Clare, we are ready for you
now,” said Debbie “Hello, Pam, I do hope you will be
pleased with the way Wendy looks. She will be
sensational.”

Clare and Debbie left us and a moment later there was
the sound of a fanfare and the room lights died. The
curtains swept back. On the stage in a brilliant pool of
light was a throne. On the throne was my daughter. She
was wearing a cape of dark blue satin. Clare and Debbie
stood on either side. Clare spoke, “Welcome everyone to
the annual crowning of the Princess. I would like you
all of you to applaud Pam and Wendy for agreeing to
attend.”

There was widespread clapping and a few cheers.

“And now I have pleasure in crowning Princess Wendy.”
Clare placed a jewelled tiara on my daughter’s head. I
felt so proud to see my lovely girl standing there
bathed in the glow of the women’s applause. Clare and
Debbie then each took one of the Princess’s hands and
brought her to the edge of the stage.

The audience left their seats and clustered as close as
they could to the place where the three women stood. I
saw Clare and Debbie each take hold of the margin of the
cape, and they pulled it off her. Wendy stood there,
looking for all the world like a true princess. But
Diana had never looked like this. The dress was made of
a heavy material, which flowed down her body. But it
revealed more than it concealed. Wendy’s beautiful
breasts were completely bare! She stood proudly in a
spotlight with all those women going mad with delight.

I was so proud of her. Gradually the applause died down
and Clare and Debbie brought the Princess down to our
table. I congratulated Debbie on the costume. I noticed
Clare could not keep her eyes off the delightful 16-
year-old breast flesh so artfully displayed. I knew from
the puffy state of my daughter’s nipples that she was
already quite stimulated.

Dinner was served. It passed in a hubbub of excitement
as several of the checkout women came by to compliment
Wendy and thank me for allowing her to be there. After
dinner there was dancing. Clare and Wendy led it off by
dancing together. They looked good together, the tall
brown haired manageress holding the blonde princess with
the bare breasts.

Clare held Wendy tight in her arms and every so often
they exchanged a sweet kiss. Most of the other women
also danced but Clare and Wendy held the eye. I danced
with little Debbie and listened as she told me about how
much she had enjoyed looking after Wendy and making the
dress. Debbie told me she had loved preparing my
daughter’s body for the evening’s fun, She had worked on
her breasts with powder and rouge, and she told me there
was another surprise for me later.

I saw that every so often another woman would tap
Wendy’s partner on the shoulder and take the Princess
into her own arms. Clare and I sat together watching the
dancers. I knew my daughter was enjoying the dancing as
I saw the women kissing her and some were so bold as to
caress the Princess’ offered breasts.

“Are you happy, Pam?” asked Clare. “I knew Wendy would
be the centre of attention.”

I replied that it was a shame the evening had to end.
Clare gave me an enigmatic look.

While we sat enjoying the spectacle, I noticed that
several women came and whispered in Clare’s ear. Just
after yet another had come over to us, Clare spoke up.
“Pam, sometimes at these parties, if we have an
exceptionally exciting princess, if she agrees, we carry
on with another stage of the entertainment. Those women
who you saw talking to me have asked if we could do this
tonight.” I was all ears, it sounded exciting. “Would
you let the women pay homage to their Princess in a
really passionate way?”

I replied that it seemed only right to allow them
freedom to do whatever they wanted, but that Wendy must
agree. Clare thanked me and asked Debbie to take Wendy
backstage again, tell her about the plan and get her
ready. I waited eagerly for whatever was to happen.

Again Debbie appeared beside Clare. “Wendy has agreed
and is ready now,” she said to us.

Again Clare went up onto the stage and again the room
lights went down. The curtains opened and all was the
same as before, with Wendy on the throne in her cloak.
The same except that in the silence I could have heard a
pin drop. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
The room was full of sexual promise. The three women
came forward as before.

Clare announced, “Tonight, ladies, there will be further
entertainment. You are invited to pay homage to your
Princess,” and the cape was swept off revealing my
daughter totally naked. Her lovely body was displayed
for all the women to see and lust over. Her sweet
smiling face, her strong shoulders and arms, her high
set breasts and the flat belly.

To my surprise I saw that her blonde fur had been
entirely removed. So that was what Debbie had meant, she
had shaven my girl’s vulva! Her long strong legs
completed the picture. Music started and the women went
mad as Clare used a dance to show the audience the full
delights of their Princess.

As she twirled my girl around, I saw that Debbie was
reorganising the room. The chairs were arranged in a
circle around a pile of satin cushions. Some sort of
exhibition was obviously being planned, as the
encircling chairs were only inches from the cushions.
The women tore themselves away from the delights on
stage and sat waiting the next part of the
entertainment. One of them kindly made sure I had a
chair in the circle too.

All the lights went out and we sat in total darkness. I
heard rustling and light footsteps. Then one brilliant
light went on shining directly down onto the cushions.
Wendy was spread out on her back, stark naked with her
body completely available to all. Her shaven cunt looked
especially inviting, with the spotlight glistening off
its moisture.

Clare’s voice said, “Would the first two ladies step
forward.”

I saw Debbie and another girl come into the light.

“Make homage to your Princess!” said the firm voice.

Debbie and the other woman dropped to their knees beside
my outstretched naked daughter and began to make
passionate love to her. Debbie kissed her mouth and felt
her breasts while her friend took the proffered cunt
with her hungry mouth. So started a continuous session
of protracted fucking.

Wendy was taken by over twenty women that night. Some of
them dropped the tops of their dresses, the better to
use their own breasts to stimulate those of the
Princess. One large breasted woman used her long nipple
to stimulate my daughter’s erect clit. Each pair were
given ample time to procure the multiple orgasms which
wracked their princess’s lovely body.

Every climax was applauded by the audience. Debbie had
the honour of bringing on the first come with her tongue
deep inside my daughter’s vagina. Wendy’s cunt-juice was
drunk that evening by all the women in turn, but she
still stained the cushions. Twenty hungry mouths
stimulated her breasts; the owners of each I now
realised had lusted after her so often in the shop.
Every so often, the woman currently fucking her looked
up and mouthed a thank you to me before bending once
more to further ravage their naked Princess.

Eventually about three in the morning everyone was
exhausted. Wendy lay gasping on her cushions, her
wonderful body streaked with girl-come. Her nipples were
puffed up and lightly scarred where the lustful women
had bitten. Her cunt lay open, literally dripping with
her adoring subjects’ saliva and her own cunt-juice. The
wide smile on her pretty face confirmed that she had
enjoyed every minute.

Gradually, the women reluctantly filed out as Debbie,
Clare and I helped Wendy to dress. Clare, who alone had
not fucked the Princess offered to drive us home. We
again thanked Debbie for her work and said good night.

I invited Clare to come in and over coffee we discussed
the evening. Clare was so pleased. “I get so few chances
to give those women what they really want.”

Wendy had fully recovered and shyly asked Clare why she
had not joined in.

Clare answered, “Darling, I was so excited to see all my
colleagues enjoying your body that I missed my chance.”

“Mum, dear,” said Wendy “do you think that is fair?
Couldn’t Clare stay with us tonight?”

So it was that we all went to my big bed together. I had
the honour of seeing the elegant manageress have the
fuck she so badly needed. The unselfish woman gave my
darling multiple orgasms. Clare started by finger
fucking Wendy. Then she did her with her lovely mouth
deep in the darling’s pussy, finishing up with a
passionate strap-on fuck, which again sent my daughter
over the edge.

We three slept together with Wendy sandwiched between us
plugged deeply from the back by Clare’s plastic shaft. I
fell asleep with my breasts against hers and our mouths
enjoying passionate kisses.

Now each time we go to the supermarket, I am conscious
of all the eyes following my daughter around the store.
I realise the women’s lust is still rampant as they
fantasise that they are still in that hotel room, with
their beautiful Princess naked in their arms and the
taste of her cunt-juice on their thirsty tongues.