A Chance Encounter*

written by slave s

*OctoGoddess Erotica Fanfic

As you aware, my little minions, I have always enjoyed being immortalized in prose! This fantasy origin story of my ownership of slave s has been sitting on my computer for ages. I had slave s update it with a warning for you, dear readers!

I will let them get on with the story, enjoy some OctoGoddess Erotica Fanfic today! –Devora

And now, once again…in slave s’ own words…

Back for more, eh? I can’t really blame you. It’s safe for you there, behind your screen, on your phone…you can really walk away at any time. You could turn away right now. In fact, I’d advise it. If you still can, that is. You’re not really ready for this, are you? Let me pose this to you…have you found your mind drifting off and thoughts of Her start filling in the blank space? The bricks to Her Temple…She is building it in your mind, while you are unaware. If She hasn’t been in your mind, your dreams, your thoughts…your fantasies then you should probably walk away now. It’s still safe for you. You can go about your life and never regret missing out on a chance to serve a true and rare Goddess. 


If you have found that She’s penetrated your mind already, all I can say is good luck. I wish I had something more to say to you, but you are going to have to figure some things out on your own. I sure wasn’t to submit my mind, my pathetic dick, my mouth and my personality to Her. To remake into something more pleasing, more worthy of a Goddess.

all I can say is good luck

I had no idea what had begun on that day. It would take me much longer, much later when I was already too deep to go back to realize the extent of the impression She made on me. Here, read on…you’ll see, it all started so innocently.

Imagine this being the first time you meet HER

You’re kneeling on the floor of the health store you work at, pulling the large containers of natural laundry detergent on the bottom shelf to the front just trying to make the last 30 minutes of your shift go faster. The mindless work becoming a gateway to drifting off mentally, you didn’t even notice the customer that walked up right beside where you were. You see Her fishnet stockings over Her perfectly manicured toenails first, a dark crimson shimmer, in Her t-strap heels. Your face flushes. You wouldn’t call yourself a foot fetishist but here you are staring at a woman’s feet.


“Can you help me or not?” The voice, a little confused, a lot demanding. How long were you staring at Her feet? Had She said something before that you missed?


“Yes Ma’am, I’m sorry.” You stand up and are taken aback by the woman before you. You’ve seen attractive older women before, even hooked up with a few, but there’s something different about this one. She smiles a sly smile, half smirk, and you thought Her feet excited you. Well know there is a growing bulge where there should not be.

She looks like some kind of really hot librarian

Her face is framed in silver grey hair, some dark brown remaining from, what you suspect, was Her hair color before She started going grey. Red framed cat-eyed glasses sit on her surprisingly youthful face. She’s wearing a tight skirt and a loose blouse, you’re sure there is a name for the type of skirt and blouse but all you know is that She looks like some kind of really hot librarian. 


She takes a second to look you over. Her gaze drifting from your eyes, your mouth, your hands…can She tell? You feel so vulnerable. Her gaze lingers just long enough that it’s almost certain She knows you are erect. Then it darts up to your nametag with a quickness that you feel instantly in the goosepimples that rise on the back of your neck.


“Tay” She says your name like She knows you, not like a stranger would. Then She reaches out, grabs your elbow like She is aware you need an anchor to keep you from floating away. “Where are the silicone safe soaps?” She smiles, and…was that a wink? It happened so quick. 


“Ummm, I’m not sure.” She removes Her hand and it feels like your entire world just came crashing down. 


“Tay, I need you to find out for me.”


At that moment you would do anything for Her, if only She would touch you one more time.


You see your coworker who normally works in the beauty department at the end of the aisle watching this interaction from behind. She looks perplexed, having never seen you lose your confidence like this before.


“Sierra, do we carry…” you can’t remember what She asked for so you look back at this woman, but woman doesn’t seem right, She has so much power. She is whispering the words to you, keeping eye contact with you like some sort of gravitational beam that keeps you right where She wants you. 


“Silicone. Safe. Soap.” You watch Her lips, Her eyes. You notice the shade of lipstick, Her perfectly aligned teeth, brown eyes, how Her lips pursed together at the end of soap…


“Silicone Safe Soap?” You say back to Sierra who is still waiting and watching you. She’s gonna give you hell for this later.


“Yeah, it’s by the Diva Cups.” Did Sierra just laugh a little. She did. Of course, the reusable menstrual cups. You feel faint, weirdly uncomfortable. You have sisters, this stuff normally doesn’t make you awkward but,

all of a sudden, you’re reduced to a pre-pubescent mindset. 


“Oh, it’s right over here. I hear those are pretty great.” You turn around and you’re glad you did, those are pretty great? What the hell are you talking about? Why can’t you even make small talk right now?


“They are, but that’s not what this is for.” She’s following you, you can hear Her heels clicking on the floor. What did she just say? Not what this is for? For some reason you feel an inescapable urge to drop back down to the floor and kiss Her feet. It doesn’t feel right that you should be leading Her in the store.


Somehow, some way, you find the right shelf. You hand Her a small squeeze bottle of cleanser but you wish you could hand Her something more, something that would signify Her power and radiance.


As She reaches out, She takes, instead, your wrist and pulls you ever so gently toward Her. She brings Her mouth close to your ear and says “Thank you, boy.” You feel Her breath on your cheek and you want to lean in closer. You smell roses, Her perfume, and can even see the faint soft hairs on this side of Her face, just in front of Her ears. She is so close to you, and Her right eye is making unbreaking contact with your right eye.


There seems to be a current between the two of you and years pass between your breaths. 


You notice, for the first time, that Her grip is strong and you can feel the rhythm of your pulse against Her clenched thumb. Your fingers start to feel numb and you drop the bottle of soap into Her open purse, which, until now, you hadn’t noticed hanging off Her left arm and conveniently in place to receive this gift. She smiles as this orchestrated game has been played in Her favor and releases your wrist. You feel relieved but, all of a sudden, chilled and empty.


She closes Her bag and places the handle back in the inside of Her elbow. “Thanks for nothing, boy, perhaps next time you can be more useful to Me.” She turns around and walks down the empty aisle back up to the front of the store. You watch the back of Her legs, the curve of Her hips creating so much distance between you. You won’t stop Her from leaving the store with Her well won prize, you just hoped you could also be Her trophy.


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