I stare at him a little uncertain what he means. “Right here?”
“Yes, right here. Raise your sweater.”
I should be wary of someone walking through the door, but where we stand, there’s a hefty shelf to block the view. Following Lockhart’s instructions, I lift my sweater above my breasts. As I do, he moves forward and pulls the lace away to reveal my n****e. Tweaking it ever so slightly, I jerk. Inside I’m screaming, but on the outside I remain firm.
“Hurts?”
“My, yes.”
“And your c**t and labia?” He peers down at my crotch.
I raise my skirt exposing my nakedness, breathing anxiously as I do, sure any second the bell on the door will jangle and I’ll be flushed-faced greeting my next customer. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen. As before, Lockhart gently fingers the skin about my piercing
