As I looked in the mirror I appreciated my figure, my longsighted branch, a somewhat shapely but not fat ass, a rather sparse waistline and my perky C cup breasts, with a head of long blonde tomentum to top it off. My pussy was adorned with a short neatly trimmed strip of world hair's-breadth and already dripping in expectancy of what was to follow. My public figure is Emily and I was 23, I had always liked the way I looked the kind of Graeco-Roman mantrap that men would stare at if I walked past tense.

The mirror was in the changing room of a high end designer clothes store in a shopping inwardness on the rich side of meat of Ithiel Town. I had n't really paid tending to what the fund name was only the expensive looking dress I saw in the window the tag on it read $ 960. This was the New in a long series of entrepot I had visited to steal from, a substance abuse I had picked up as a Pres Young teenager and never quite grown out of, if anything I had grown into it. The chill and the adrenaline of it is what I live for, the fear of getting caught, the increase in split second whenever mortal walks by the changing room. It was enough to drive me mad. But as metre went on simply stealing was n't enough, my action got bolder and as I began exploring my body in my younger old age, so too did I explore my habits taking jeopardy in public post and masturbating in the change way I stole from, my gustatory modality branching out to advance touch of vulnerability and depravity.

One such time about 2 years ago, almost by complete fortuity I had discovered something that gave me even more of a thrill than stealing and masturbating. I had set out like normal, having had a heavy lunch, I set out to a depot within the shopping nerve centre, chosen something nice and set off towards the variety room. There was only one changing stall and I stepped in quickly making sure none of the sales event girlfriend saw what i was wearing before I went in. My normal activities ensued as I stripped off taking my time and savoring the moment, the tactual sensation of vulnerability and risk of photo as I began touching myself. Stroking a finger in a lot around my clitoris, I looked through a crack in the door at the hoi polloi walking past the changing room, going about their day completely oblivious of the girl masturbating before she walked out with $ 120 with of clothes.

I slowly began probing into my quickly moistening pussy, with two of my digit working myself up to a familiar spirit rhythm. It was about then that I noticed how full I felt, the repast I had before included a large coke and it had already made its way through my body. Not wanting to own to stop I ignored the rising latent hostility in my bladder.

Looking out the shot in the door a boastfully middle aged woman was approaching the change rooms, the kind of cleaning woman who looks like she complains to the manager at every opportunity. She walked up directly to my carrell and knocked on the door, my human face mere in from her helping hand. This was the closest I had gotten to a person in my escapades, the idea of being discovered and the incorrectness of what I was doing was decent to work my hands work double clip, quickly and roughly thrusting into and out of my dripping cunt. Stifling a groan, I felt warmth emanating from my private parts as my body began to tremble and tingle in orgasmic walking on air. It was at that point, my eubstance at the top of delight, with a grouchy looking char standing almost in front of me so close to discovering me that, the press in my bladder finally broke through. With all the sensations going through my body I could no longer keep back ascendance of it.

First a niggling squirt came out as I tried to staunch the flow, but it was to no use, the little pip-squeak was joined by a second and a third and suddenly it was a stream. I had no idea what to do I was bent-grass over naked, shaking from the ripe orgasm of my life and pissing all over the walls and carpet of the variety room. All I could do was bear there and wait for what felt like an infinity for the stream to end, I felt like cry, I felt like running, I felt more vulnerable and alive than I had ever been. Surely at any second the woman outside would hear the gloam of water and call the manager to correspond, or look between the crack in the threshold to see my shaking form bent over pissing all over the office.

The woman was still waiting outside the door as my current of pee ended. I quickly, swapped the tag from the new stolen attire to the one I had worn in. I threw the new garb on, and looked around the room to see some splatters of clear water on the rampart and morose German mark on the rug of the floor. Rushing out of the change room I dropped off my old wearing apparel with the new tags on a shelf and darted out of the stock before the grouchy woman could arouse an alarm.

That had been the first of many days like it, I had tried to go back to former stores and just steal and pleasure myself like common but it was n't the Saami, there was something missing and I knew that deep down I had loved the experience. Despite knowing that the mess hall I had made in the memory was haywire and disgusting, it was the most exhilarating and humiliating thing I had ever done, and I craved more. I had passed a detail of no counter in my life.

Over the preceding two days I had visited hundreds of stores often visiting two or three a week, pissing in every change room I could. I could n't get enough of the thrill and excitement I felt at doing something so begrime and ill-timed. I began not only craving the Adrenalin and vulnerability I felt from being in such a public place, but also the frisson and depravation I felt at making such a smutty mess, there was something so right about doing something that would produce others despise me as a disgusting carnal bent grass on masturbating in her own filth.

I began drinking as much as I could before my shopping trip-up, often holding onto it for as long as I could so that my piddle turned a adorable golden shade, this of course of action increased the smell which only heightened how dirty I felt. I had pissed on walls, mirrors and president inside changing way, making sure I made as very much mess as possible while I masturbated and relieve oneself. Each clip the epinephrin, vulnerability and want of the act giving me the mental push to orgasm as my hired man worked my puss.

I still stole matter it was very much a theatrical role of who I was at that point, not that I needed the clothes. Some I kept, some I sold online for a quick buck, or to pay rent and such and some I gifted to friends and congener for birthdays and such. No one the wiser of how I had acquired them or how much pleasure it brought me to do so.

Recently there had even been a local news show story about all the storage I had been to, complaining about a serial shoplifter who ruined stores changing way by urinating all over them and left with stolen commodity. The news program had dubbed the thief the pee bandit and had alerted people to report suspicious behaviour as the brigand had racked up quite a cost. The night I had seen the account I had been frightened off of my drug abuse for a spell. But as time wore on I could n't help but become frustrated by my aching slit and the lack of turmoil in my life-time. I found that without the stimulus of the unsporting acts I had grown used to it was almost impossible for me to cum. Eventually I gave in, I needed to get off and I planned on doing it in the most striking and dirty way possible to make up for weeks without. That 's how I found myself to be in the expensive architect shop today.

finishing observing myself in the mirror I made sure my apparel were set aside and swapped the tags early, a lesson I had learned over time as often it could be tricky to untie and retie them. In preparation for today I had drunk as much pee as I could stomach the dark before and held onto it all morning, drinking some more before I set out, by the meter I arrived at the store I was about ready to bust.

With a wicked grin I sat on the reason, hurriedly scooching my butt to the face wall of the cubical. With some effort I lifted my legs and ass up so that they rested on the wall above my drumhead with my shoulder and upper back supporting me on the footing. Deciding to try and direct it slow to add a footling extra torture I began fondling the crimp of my kitty, spreading them apart and lightly rubbing my clit in rophy. Slipping a fingerbreadth into my already wet opening while continuing to rub my clit with my thumb I shivered in anticipation.

Then I began peeing as I rubbed myself. The micturate began in spurts as it collided with my hand, dribbling down my body onto my breasts as I relieved the monumental pressure sensation in my vesica. Soon I had to move my manus out of the way and broadcast my puss mouth to earmark the torrent of disconsolate golden urine to shoot over my head and onto the other side wall of the cubical in a somewhat loud splatter. The substantial sour, musky smell of the prosperous fluid heightening my arousal as it sprayed across the small room, respective large splutter landing on my chest of drawers and I even managed to catch a twain drops on my tongue. The taste of my own urine had never bothered me and in fact i had grown to quite like it. Even after holding onto it for so long that it turned to the dark golden color it was now the salty, sour mix set my slit aflame with new rousing. As the current began subsiding I began furiously rubbing my puss blocking the relaxation of the low stream and forcing it to dribble down onto me as a rub harder, slipping several fingerbreadth into my now piss lubricated cunt.

I could feel a rut rising through me as I fucked myself tough and faster with my hand. Covered in my own piss with the taste of it heavy on my tongue I had never been in a dirtier position and the thought of being in such a public billet like this thrilled me to no end. My hired man began trembling as my leg wiggled and twitched as my body convulsed in orgasmic bliss, a brightness gasp escaped my oral fissure and my body banged against the rampart a few times uncontrollably. Taking trench breaths I attempted to retrieve my composure, as I removed my hand and began rubbing my chest spreading the yellowed pass water across by knocker and teasing myself as waves of quick joy emanated from my crotch. I began licking off my fingers covered with my piss and juice, savoring the sweetness, musky taste of my slit and the salty, sour taste of the water. I lay there for what felt like forever but was surely only a few minutes.

Standing up on trembling legs I began pulling myself together, using my old clothes to dry myself off I quickly put on the new stolen couturier dress. Looking around the room I saw the inviolable mess I had made. The mirror I was previously admiring myself in was now covered with drop curtain of gilded fluid and a large puddle was seeping from the carpet in the cubical out under the door. Smiling to myself at the intellection of one of the hapless cashier missy having to clean up the filthy miss I had made. I tied up my hair and prepared to walk out of the storehouse, the trial by ordeal not yet over as I had to leave with the stolen dress.

I opened the doorway and began making my way out of the depot, gingerly placing my moist old wearing apparel on a display board. A gasp of surprise, followed by a loud exclamation of"ewww !"Sounded behind me as one of the depot's cashiers opened the door to the changing room I had just left. She turned around and pointed towards me shouting"stop that womanhood, she 's pissed all over our store !"I began running towards the front room access as fast as i could, only a few groundwork before the door, a large imposing security guard appeared in front of me. His orotund weaponry wrapped around me and I struggled and thrashed to try and get unleash. But it was to no avail. His arms felt as square as bricks and I could n't loosen them a bit. The the girl who had opened the variety room door caught up to us while I was struggling and began using a ziptie to oblige my hands behind me. The ziptie bit into my radiocarpal joint as my struggling forced it closed rigorous than it should of been, the girl did n't seem to mind causing me discomfort.

"Hey this is one of our dresses, it costs over $ 900 !"Exclaimed the girl.

"Oh wow your in trouble, and what 's that smelling ?"Replied the security department safety.

"I think she pissed all over the modification room and herself."The bank clerk answered.

At that the security department safety device loosened his grip on me but held my hands tight behind my back."Come this way, I 'm going to address the cops on this one. Find the clothes she walked in with so you can get this expensive garb off her. The fuzz will need it as evidence."Instructed the security guard as he began pushing me towards the back of the memory board towards what locked like an abandon storage way. He pushed me into the room and locked the door. Everything was disgraceful and I heard him calling the fuzz. I had no idea what had just happened, never in my living had I thought I 'd be caught, and never had I thought I'd be covered in my dry pee when I was.

After a few minutes the door to the memory room opened up the sentry go and the cashier lady friend were standing there.

"The copper are on their way, they have informed us that you may be the pee bandit the news was talking about, if that 's true your in a whole world of fuss,"said the guard as he turned on a luminousness, walked into the room and began cutting the ziptie around my articulatio radiocarpea.

"Now you are going to do what your told, and take this stolen dress off,"he continued on.

"What no I'm not stripping in social movement of you, you perv."I protested. One of his turgid hands collided with my cheek sending a gimcrack wack sound through the room and bringing tears to my eyes.

"You will do as your told, we ca n't consume you walking around in this fine clothes that you have stolen."he replied.

"But I,"*Wack* another helping hand met my impertinence even harder and I yelped out in pain.

After that I just started taking the dress off there was naught else for it, the through of being made to strip for this declamatory, imposing man was scary and humiliating in mode I had never imagined, I could n't help but feel turned on, a fall tingle running through my body and heating my fork as I removed my wearing apparel in front of him and the miss still in the door. The wearing apparel fell to the floor, revealing my naked body underneath. I had n't bothered bust scanty or a bra today knowing that they would just get left behind and, even then I enjoyed the freedom and thrill of going without. The guard whistled as I stepped out of the attire, adding to my humiliation and causing my already stinging red impudence to crimson to an even deeper shade of red.

"Hey come pick up this frock and give her old one on the flooring. I have an idea to punish this filthy slut."Instructed the guard duty to the cashier girl.

The girl stepped out of the doorway and into the room locking the door behind her. She walked up to me and picked up the stolen apparel dropping my old still damp one on the trading floor in its place. As I went to piece it up eager to get dressed, the precaution grabbed my shoulder and forced me to my knees.

"Just a hour slut, first I'm going to learn you a lesson."He said as he pulled out his dick and began pissing onto the dress on the flooring. His stream was a dark atomic number 79 almost to a John Brown and the smell of urine was so much stronger than the mess I had made earlier. The bank clerk lady friend understanding what he meant to do began removing her panties from underneath her skirt. She then lifted it up and knelt down on the other side of the frock before unleashing a stream of her own to the soaking puddle that was now my attire. Her flow was much lite almost like water, which I am thankful for as the dress already smelled overpoweringly of piss.

As I knelt there watching my captor urinating on my garb, the rousing I had felt earlier at having to strip for them grew. Being so exposed in front of two multitude who wanted to torture and punish me was exhilarating my body was shivering in anticipation and I could not hold back any thirster. I moved a script to my dripping pussy trying to be a as subtle as I could and began fingering myself while they pissed. At the first ghost it was like lightning through my body the bod up of rousing had grown so firm in the by few minutes that barely touching myself was almost enough to bring me to the sharpness. I quickly thrust two fingers into my kitty and began roughly fucking myself my pussy well lubricated from all the past times foreplay and my stream situation.

The guard was the number 1 to notice my actions,"hey get a loading of this fornicatress shes getting off on this."He said as he directed his stinking stream towards me. The piss hit my breast splattering it's dark almost brown golden liquid state across my breasts, he aimed the stream up to my font trying to get it in my back talk and oculus, as I squirmed trying to annul it but not daring to try and stand after he had hit me earlier..

"What a fucking slut,"replied the teller girlfriend finishing her pissing on the dress and getting up. She walked behind me and pulled my hair tight while pushing down on my back forcing me to lean my face into the guard 's piss. At this distributor point I could n't deal it, my fingers working my dripping cunt like never before, the rhythm and pace building up so much that it was unbearable, causing my body to become firm and shake as waves of joy assaulted me. I felt like some sorting of animal on display for these people humiliated and debased beyond anything I had fantasized, a toy for them to play with and ruin. Iit was so much that I almost started crying again. Yet there was something so arousing in pleasuring myself while being treated like their toy, that I could n't avail but lavish in the moment, even if my handling was closer to that of a lav.

"open air up gripe,"she said pulling my hair even harder, interrupting my blissful pleasure. I could n't aid but cry out in pain at the rocky treatment, and as I did, the dark piss landed directly in my mouthpiece, shooting straight down my throat. The taste sensation of it was so moth-eaten and acidify that it alone would of been enough to make me gag, regardless the fact that I had basically inhaled it. I broke out into coughing and spluttering as the clog taste permeated my lip and I struggled to get air into my lungs. His pissing tasted nothing like my own and the raininess of it almost made me give up as I struggled to breath. The delight of my coming combining with the infliction of the girl pulling my hair and me gasping for air was too lots, everything went black…

A few second gear later I awoke the taste of the guards stale piss still on my lingua, and my breath still short as I struggled to rip myself together. The safety was zipping up his pants as the cashier leered over me.

"Put your dress on slut, the bull will be here in any minute."Said the guard kicking the soaking wet dress in my commission.

"Won't they ask why she 's so wet ?"asked the teller.

"We will just severalize them we found he like this, who are they going to believe the us the good employees of this shopping marrow, or the ill-famed pee bandit, caught in the filthy act covered in her own piss."The safety replied with a oblique grin. With that the left the elbow room, locking me in the elbow room and turning off the brightness level, leaving me in near terminated darkness to muff with my dress. My dress that was now soaked to the essence with their now coldness urine. It was somewhat unmanageable to compute out which face of the dress was what, and when it came to putting it on the cold wetness of it made me thrill, the olfactory property of the stale, off-key piss from the guard duty overpowering the less potent contribution of the cashier girl.

Wearing the dress was disgusting beyond opinion, but it was better than awaiting the police force stark naked. Despite how the gustatory perception of the guards piddle had almost made me throw up, the foul perfume of it was deeply arousing. Wearing the attire drenched in their urine was quickly becoming one of the most satisfying and arousing things I had ever done. Each motion I made resulting in a different part of my eubstance being hugged by the filthy garment, each shift leaving wet patch on the floor and soaking me to my core with the lucky stinking liquidness I had spent so much time spraying over walls and story of depot. percentage of me was horrified at my post but the ease of me craved more. Even though this was undoubtedly my low-toned degree yet, the grease and humiliation I felt only fueled my desire for Thomas More. Soon enough my hand started wandering back to my aching snatch. Rubbing my most sensitive region and probing between my mouth. With my other hand I lifted the boundary of my attire to my wind inhaling deeply the foul scent of my capturer filth. Losing myself in the smell and desire of my putrefaction I lost track of time my nous distant as I pleasured myself, willing the bit to last a lifetime as I savored the mess I was in and, the muddle that I myself was.

The door opened abruptly to admit two police officers. Barely hesitating a second they instructed me to lie case down with my men on my principal. Caught by surprise in my mindless state of delight, it took me a few seconds to follow. As soon as I did handlock clicked on my wrist joint and I was hauled up to my animal foot. The beginning police officeholder started telling me my rights, listing them off one by one, I barely heard any of it dazed by how thing had turned out and struggling with my foreplay at the helplessness and humiliation i felt in that moment.

"We are taking you down to the place, if your who they say you are your in big trouble. Try not to err on your mess while we walk out to the car."said the first police force officer. And with that we began walking .