Getting Even with Gemma and Jane


'But you wore it? Just the once.'

Jane flushed.

'Two or three times.'

'Even though it made you feel cheap?'

'I did it for Dave,' she said.

'He liked it?'

She nodded.

'He liked you looking cheap?'

'That's not how it was,' she said.

'That's how it sounds.'

'I love him. I did it to make it happy,' said Jane, softly.

I turned my attention back to the tangle of underwear that I was still holding. 'Dave sounds like an interesting guy.'

'Leave Dave out of this,' said Jane, with a sudden flash of feistiness. She took half a step forwards, then saw my expression, and all the fight seemed to go out of her. 'Please, Sir. Please leave Dave out of this. He doesn't need to know.'

'As we speak, he's probably sitting at work with a hard on like a length of lead piping, thinking about you in your cheap underwear, thinking of what he's going to do to you tonight.'

'He's in Germany,' said Jane. 'On business.' She blinked a couple of times and her eyes became wet. Probably wondering if things would ever be the same between her and loverboy.

'What kind of things does Dave like to do in the bedroom, Jane? Apart from dressing you up in underwear that makes you feel like a cheap hooker? He like to spank you, Jane? He like to tie you to the bed?'

'Please, Sir. Don't make me answer these questions. I'll wear the underwear, whatever you want. I just want to buy it and go.'

'You don't get to chose, Jane,' I said. 'I want to, I'll make you wear the lingerie, perform a handstand, and tell me if you've ever had anal sex. Is that clear?'

Instead of replying, Jane stared over my shoulder. I turned to see a young, blonde girl. Nineteen or twenty, perhaps, with a face just too bland to be pretty, and hair just to blonde to be natural. She was wearing a store uniform and a name-badge.

'Can I help you Sir?' she asked. She glance at Jane, and something sly flitted across her face. 'Madam?'

'We're fine,' said Jane, hurriedly.

'My friend said you were feeling unwell,' said the girl, staring at Jane. 'Too hot,' he said. 'So hot you had to take some of your clothes off.'

Jane's face flamed red, and her hand flew to her mouth.

I glanced at the newcomer's name-badge. 'Shannon,' I said. 'Nice to meet you. Would your friend's name be Brian?' I asked.

'It would,' said Shannon. Still looking at Jane she said: 'You made quite an impression on Brian, Madam.'

Jane's face was burning, and she was blinking with increasing speed. For a moment I thought she might make a run for it, but she seemed rooted to the spot.

'I can understand you being too hot, Madam,' said Shannon. 'Heating's on the blink again -- you could grow orchids in here.' She took something from her pocket and made a big thing of dabbing at her forehead with it. She let the material hang in her hands for a moment. From the horrified gasp that Jane made, she recognised her panties about the same time I did. Shannon gave Jane a grin, and slipped the panties back into her pocket.

'Maybe you could help us, Shannon,' I said.

'If I can, Sir,' said Shannon, her eyes bright with mischief.

'I'm trying to buy some new lingerie for my friend Jane,' I said. 'Something sexy. Something that will get her excited just by wearing it, and get me excited just by looking at it.'

Shannon thought for a moment, then held out her hands towards me.

'May I, Sir?' she asked.

I nodded, and passed her the tangle of underwear that I'd selected. I glanced at Jane. She was wearing her best baby-deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression.

Shannon looked at Jane.

'What size are Madam's breasts?' she asked.

Jane actually seemed to stagger slightly, as if she'd been hit. She shook her head from side to side. 'You can't ask me that!' she exclaimed. 'You just can't!'

'Answer the nice lady, Jane!' I said.

Jane stared at the floor, still shaking her head slightly.

'36B,' she murmured.

'And she's a size 12, if it helps,' I said, giving Shannon an apologetic look. 'To speed things along.'

Shannon nodded, and started to work her way through the selection of underwear I'd selected her.

'Just one set, Sir?'

'For the moment,' I said.

'There's a few options,' she said.

'You choose, Shannon. I trust you.'

Shannon gave me a smile that was almost sweet, and discarded the items of underwear one by one until she was left with what she wanted.

'Then I'd suggest this, Sir,' she said, holding up each item in turn. 'A balconette bra in high-gloss, completely sheer black nylon embroidered with exquisite floral detail. It will really lift up Madam's breasts, push them out, give her a cleavage to die for.'

'Sounds great,' I said.

'It is,' said Shannon. 'I've got a couple of these myself. The way Madam's nipples will pucker against the material, you just won't believe it.'

'What do you think, Jane?' I asked.

'Fine,' she said, hurriedly. Clearly she'd decided that all she wanted to do was get out of the shop and away from Shannon.

'Matching thong panties,' said Shannon, holding them up for my inspection. 'Madam really won't have any secrets from you when she's wearing these, Sir. And a matching suspender belt.'

'We'll take them,' I said.

'Stockings?' asked Shannon.

'The sheerest you've got,' I said. 'Black, with a seam. Nothing too fancy round the stocking-top.'

Shannon nodded, moved to a nearby unit, and came back with a pair of stockings.

'Anything else I can help you with, Sir?'

I glanced at Jane, tilting my head to one side. She shrank back under my gaze.

'A skirt,' I said. 'Something short. And a blouse.'

'I'm guessing low-cut, Sir,' said Shannon, her voice like silk, her eyes dancing with amusement.

'You guessed right, Shannon,' I said.

'Follow me, please,' said Shannon. She turned and walked away. I nodded to Jane to follow. She gave me a doleful look, then trudged after Shannon. I followed along behind her, picturing her wearing her new lingerie.

'Size 12, you said, Sir?' asked Shannon.

I nodded.

'Maybe a size smaller', I said. 'So she gets that busting-out-all-over look.'

Shannon nodded, and led us between racks of blouses and skirts. After a bit of umming and ahhing, I decided on a thin, grey check skirt that would barely come half way down Jane's thighs, and a butter-soft, pale yellow silk blouse with a deeply-scooped neck.

'New shoes, maybe?' asked Shannon.

'Maybe later,' I said. 'The day is young and all that. For the moment, let's pay for this lot.'

'Sure,' said Shannon. 'Follow me over to the till.'

At the till, Brian was waiting. As he was one of the cleaning staff, I wasn't sure if this was a promotion, or just a one-off special treat.

'I'll leave you with Brian, for the moment,' if that's OK, said Shannon. With a long, last, lingering smile at Jane she handed her the lingerie and turned and walked away.

Jane almost threw the lingerie onto the counter, studiously avoiding looking at Bryan. But she, like me, couldn't have failed to have noticed the way his fingers lingered over the material as he clumsily folded up the bra, panties, and suspender-belt, having first scanned them onto the till

'These should keep you much cooler, Madam,' he said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the excitement out of his voice. Then he folded up the short skirt and the shiny cream-coloured blouse and slipped all the clothes into a bag.

I gave Jane a handful of notes, and made her pay Brian.

'Say thank you to the nice gentleman, Jane.'

Jane muttered something that was probably a thank-you of sorts and picked up the bag.

'One last thing, Madam,' said Bryan. 'If you'd like to try on the new outfit now, you're welcome to use the changing room.'

Jane started to shake her head but I cut her short.

'Good idea, Bryan,' I said.

He pointed us towards the nearest changing-rooms and I steered Jane in the right direction.

'Please,' she said. 'Don't make me do this! Not here, not in public!'

'I want you to put on a show, right here, right now,' I said. 'And that's what you're going to do.'

Shannon was waiting by the changing-rooms, pretending, not very convincingly, to be tidying up a display of boot-cut jeans.

'Jane can't wait to get home to try out her new purchases,' I said, apologetically.

Shannon raised her eyebrows.

'Quite the little minx,' she said. Then, turning to Jane, she said: 'All the cubicles are free. Pick the one you want.' As an afterthought she added: 'One thing -- have you worn stockings and suspenders before?'

Jane stared at her but didn't answer.

'A couple of times,' I said. 'For someone else.'

Shannon nodded to me and turned back to Jane. 'Just wanted to remind you to put the stockings and suspenders on first, then pull your panties over the top.' She gave me a brief, understanding smile. 'Makes it so much easier if the gentleman gets the sudden urge to bend you over a desk, or the dining table or whatever. He can just tug your panties down and take you from behind. No need to do a lot of unfastening.'

Jane gave a strange, choking sound.

'A useful reminder, Jane.' When she didn't move, I added: 'Well, get started. We haven't got all day.'

Jane gave me a last, lost look, then turned and walked slowly into the nearest cubicle. The bag of clothes looked heavy in her hand, like an oversized school-satchel in the hands of a small-child.

Shannon stared after her for a moment, something like hunger in her eyes.

'Pretty girl,' I said.

'She is,' I said.

Shannon went back to rearranging the jeans and I sat down on a small leather-topped bench and waited.

And waited.

Ten minutes later, I was getting bored and Shannon was running out of ways to rearrange a pile of clothes.

'I'll go and see if she's alright, shall I?' she asked.

'If you wouldn't mind.'

Shannon went into the cubicle. A couple of minutes later she came out, leading Jane by the hand.


The skirt was even shorter than I'd thought it would be, not even coming half-way down her thighs and revealing surprisingly shapely legs which gleamed and glistened under the smoky grey nylon of her stockings. The blouse, deeply cut at the front and, as I'd intended, slightly too small, showcased her pale breasts. Jane would never have the kind of cleavage you could park a bike in, but what she did have was displayed to best effect. Like Cosmo says, it's amazing the difference the right bra can make.

Jane had obviously been crying again. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face flushed. With one hand she was fiddling with her blouse, with the other she was trying to tug down her skirt.

'Doesn't she just look good enough to eat, Sir?' said Shannon.

'Turn and look at yourself in the mirror, Jane. See if you agree.'

Reluctantly, Jane turned her back on me, staring sightlessly into the full-length mirror on the wall. As she did so, the seams on her stockings, and the reinforced heels, came into view. I smiled to myself. There was no way anyone was going to think she was wearing tights.

I got to my feet.

'You look great, Jane. Apart from the shoes. Mary-Janes just don't cut it with that outfit. You need some high-heels.'

'My thoughts exactly, Sir,' said Shannon. 'Ladies shoes are on the next floor up. Follow me.'

I made Jane walk in front of me so I could look at her legs. As we went up the escalator, I got my first glimpse of stocking-tops. As we went up, I saw a middle-aged man on the floor we had just left glance up and then do a double-take as he obviously got a look right up Jane's skirt. I nudged her and pointed. She gave a look of horror, jammed her legs tightly together as if she were standing at attention, and held her skirt tight against her body at each side. That wasn't so bad though, as it just served to outline the contours of her buttocks.

I glanced back down at the middle-aged man. He gave me a wink and a wave and walked off.

At the top of the escalator, I hooked my arm through Jane's and steered her over to the footwear department. A middle-aged sales assistant was trying to convince a man old enough to get a free TV licence that he looked good in red suede ankle-boots, but apart from that, the sales floor was empty. I sat down on a stool and motioned to Jane to join me. She did so reluctantly, keeping her knees tightly together. I peered sideways down into her cleavage.

'Push your shoulders back, dear,' I whispered, my mouth close to her ear. The smell of her perfume was thick in my throat. 'Try and push your shoulder-blades together.'

She hesitated, then did as I asked. A good sign, I thought, keeping my gaze on her breasts. Maybe I'd broken her already. Her new position lifted her breasts and made them jut forward. I got a glimpse of the thin black strap that joined the gauzy cups of her bra, and just a hint of nipple through bra and blouse.

I was slightly surprised, but not very, to hear a familiar voice from behind us. Before either of us could turn round, Brian hove into view.

'Shannon said that you were looking for some shoes for madam,' said Brian, looking at me but wanting to look at her.

Jane cried out in horror and closed her eyes for a moment.

I nodded. 'Black high heels,' I said. 'Maybe patent leather, something like that.'

Brian nodded. 'What size would madam be?'

I glanced sideways at Jane.

'Six,' she whispered.

Brian nodded again and walked away, returning in a couple of minutes with a couple of boxes. He knelt on the floor in front of Jane, and reached out towards her. She recoiled, tried to stand, but I quickly slipped an arm round her waste and held her in place.

'Let Brian take your shoes off, Jane.'

Jane let Brian take hold of each leg in turn and slip off her shoes, but kept her knees jammed together.

'Legs apart, Jane,' I said.

I felt her body recoil as if she'd been shot. Brian was staring up at me.

'Brian can't do his job unless you let him, Jane,' I said.

Jane shook her head and looked at me.

'I can't,' she said.

'Spread your legs for the nice gentleman, Jane,' I said, still holding her tight round the waste as I nuzzled at her ear. 'I won't ask you again.'

She was breathing heavily now. For a moment I thought she might faint. But I just shrugged, moved away from her slightly and pulled out my mobile phone. Jane stared at the phone, then at my face, which I'd set in my hardest expression. Then she turned face-forwards, staring over Brian's head, and moved her legs slowly apart.

In a dress as short as she was wearing, there was no way Brian wasn't seeing everything. Stockings-tops and suspenders and pale, pale thighs; and best of all, the thin, merciless layer of nylon clinging to Jane's pussy.

His mouth hung open. 'Shit!' he said. 'Holy smoking shit!'

'The shoes, Brian?' I said. 'If it's not too much trouble.'

Still staring up Jane's skirt, he fumbled with the boxes. Somehow, he managed to get the shoes onto her feet, handicapped only slightly by the growing erection visible through his crumpled black trousers.

I leaned back in towards Jane. Tears were sidling slowly down her cheeks as she continued to stare into the distance. I wondered where she was trying to imagine herself to be.

'This making you wet, Jane? Putting your charms on display for some spotty kid you've never met before.'

I had to repeat the question.

'No!' she hissed. 'That's a disgusting question! You're a disgusting person!'

Jane tried to close her legs, but Brian, still kneeling, held them gently but firmly on either side of his knees. She struggled half-heartedly for a second or two, then relaxed.

'Open your legs a little wider, I think, dear,' I said.

Without resisting, Jane let Brian move her legs apart. He was breathing heavily now, his eyes as wide as dinner-plates.

'I'm not sure I believe you, Jane,' I said. 'All this butter wouldn't melt in your mouth crap. I think you're probably wet down there, wet enough to float a boat.'

Jane shook her head but said nothing.

'Maybe I should slip my hand up your skirt -- what there is of it -- and check. Stick my hand down the front of your panties and see if my fingers come away wet.'

'No,' she said. 'Please. Not here.'

'I've got to tell you,' I said. 'I'm pretty tempted.'

She gave me the briefest of glances. The light in her eyes seemed to dim and go out.

'OK,' she said, in a toneless voice I hadn't heard before. 'I'm wet.'

Brian gave a groan and stood up and walked hurriedly away.

I laughed. 'Never take a young lover, Jane,' I said. 'No staying power.'

I called over the middle-aged sales assistant and she took over where Brian had left off. From the disapproving set of her thin lips, I got the impression she'd been watching the whole show.

I bought Jane both pairs of shoes. Like the advert says, she's worth it.


We walked back to my car, Jane first, at my instructions. She was wearing one of the pairs of high-heels, which only served to emphasise the length of her legs and the sheerness, shine and seam of the stockings. As we stood waiting to cross the road to the carpark, a gust of wind caught the fabric of her skirt. Jane thrust her hands down to her sides.

'Leave it,' I said.

She didn't even try to go against me any more. Just stood there, hands loosely by her sides, as the breeze whipped at her skirt. I got a momentary glimpse of pert buttocks split by a taut, white strip of satin. An Asian kid in an old BMW slowed as he went past, leaning on his horn and waving.


The journey back to my flat was uneventful. Jane sat next to me, all gleaming legs and gaping cleavage, or so it seemed to me. I passed her my door-key and let her lead the way into the hall.

'Go through,' I said. 'Sit down.'

I slipped into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of Chablis. When I went into the sitting-room, Jane was sitting bolt-upright on the end of the sofa.

'Sit on the coffee-table,' I said.

Jane stared at me for a moment, then got up and did as I asked. The table was made of heavily-oiled dark wood, and was so low that it forced he knees up higher than her crotch.

I took her place on the sofa so that we were facing each other, about four feet apart. She was breathing deeply again, knees locked together, hands interlocked in her lap.

I took a sip of my wine and leaned back.

'Spread your legs,' I said.

I thought I'd broken Jane, and expected her to obey. Instead she stood up and walked to the window and looked out over the bay.

'I can't do this any more,' she said.

I stared at her back. The seams of her stockings were both slightly crooked.

'Then I'll make that phone-call,' I said.

Jane said nothing, just looked out of the window. Maybe she nodded slightly. It was hard to tell.

I got up and went to the cordless phone and picked it up and dialled a Sue's number. I got her voice-mail. Not that it mattered.

'Inspector Chandler, please,' I said. I paused for what I thought was the right length of time.

'Harry!' I said. 'It's Jack.' Another pause. 'It's not a social call, I'm afraid. I've got a couple of people I need you to deal with.'

I heard a gasp from behind me.

'All sorts of things,' I said. 'Breaches of Data Protection right through to aiding and abetting terrorism.' Another pause. 'Yeah, I know. Anyway, two individuals are involved. Jane Conway and ...'

'Please!' hissed Jane, coming round into view. She was very close. 'Leave Gemma out of this!'

'Hang on, Harry!' I said. I put my hand over the phone and looked at Jane.

'Don't ruin two lives!' said Jane. 'I've been stupid, and you can punish me, but please don't do anything to Gemma.'

'All or nothing, Jane,' I said. 'Either you both stand, or you both fall. Your choice.'

She stared into my face for some moments, as if she were looking for something there. Then she nodded.

'You win,' she said.

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