Pleasure in Control Ch. 02

Linda indicated for me to take a padded chair near to the window whilst she, Emma and Charlotte stood close together on the far side of the room and discussed what had happened downstairs. I overheard Charlotte describing the scene in graphic detail, much to my intense humiliation, then they dropped their voices and I strained to overhear.

The three women walked across to where I was sitting and joined me around a low table. I reddened up and started to speak, hoping against all hope that I could explain away my actions but it was going to be difficult with Charlotte, my tormentor and honey-trap, sitting right beside behind me.

But Linda stopped me with a single word.

"Congratulations."

This is no time for sarcasm, I thought.

"You've got the job," Linda continued, holding out her hand. "Welcome to Passionella."

I stared at her for a moment then glanced across to Charlotte. She smiled broadly then made her excuses and left.

"But, I thought that Charlotte told you how appallingly I behaved downstairs and ..."

Linda stopped me again and explained: "You carried yourself perfectly, you have all the qualities we are looking for. Charlotte described the way you admired the products and discussed your desires just as a typical Passionella client would. You put on a wonderful act as you role-played a fictitious customer. You have a wonderful imagination and Charlotte enjoyed your performance tremendously. Can you start immediately?"

I was stunned and tried to go along with the plot. "Well, thank you very much, I think I will enjoy the work."

Emma and I discussed some of the practicalities of my new employment, my training and my objectives but I was in a daze and absorbed only a fraction of what she told me. Then I explained that I had no-where to live at present. "You may share with Kirsten for the rest of this week until we can get your own apartment ready. She will be your mentor and will provide some of your training. Is that OK?"

"Yes, that's fine," I agreed, "but how much will my rent be when I get my own apartment?"

"The apartment is provided free. You will also get your own Passionella credit card that will also allow you to buy clothes and items for the apartment and for your other expenses. We'll settle the monthly account."

This was almost incomprehensible, but I dared to ask the unaskable question.

"What will my salary be? Once I am fully trained, of course." Emma smiled.

"You do not need to know, you will find out when you get your first payment credited to your bank account. It will be more than you expect and more than you will need. Passionella is a successful and profitable business and we pay very, very well."

I could hardly speak now, my throat was dry and my heart was thumping but I had one last question.

"Why me? Why have you taken me into your confidence so quickly when I only walked into your retail outlet 24 hours ago?"

Linda interjected. "One of the key responsibilities of the level twos, like Kirsten, is to scout for new employees. As soon as you walked into the Passionella concession yesterday, Kirsten saw your potential. You have the easy, natural charm and the subtle beauty we seek. You have poise and style in the way you stand, walk and talk and I, err ... I mean Kirsten, fell for you straight away. Later, in her apartment, you demonstrated that you appreciate fine lingerie and enjoy admiring yourself and others and wearing our products. You are perfect for the new role of Passionella Mystery Shopper."

"I'll take it" I enthused, and a small tear of joy welled up in the corner of each eye. Emma and Linda looked at each other, smiled and Linda walked through to an adjoining room. She soon returned with a bottle of chilled champagne, which she adeptly opened and decanted into 3 glasses, passing one to me.

"Welcome, you will not be disappointed. You may leave now but please be here at 9:30 tomorrow for your initial training with Charlotte and Rachel. Here is your Passionella card." Linda passed me a credit card that reflected the light like brushed stainless steel, with my name already embossed on it. Then she blew me a kiss. "Remember, LDT. You may not kiss Passionella employees or clients. If you want to show affection, blow them a kiss; just like the logo. And do not blow your cover, we are investing a lot in you."

I downed my champagne demurely and moistened my parched lips with my tongue before thanking Linda and Emma profusely for their faith in me and my abilities. "I'll not let you down," I promised, and left.

I almost flew down the three flights of stairs to reception, trying to keep my 'poise and style' intact and wafted past Rachel. I blew her a kiss and walked confidently out onto the bright London streets. I was on top of the world and my mind was racing with 1001 questions. But first I realised I was starving hungry; it was already nearly 2:00pm. I walked 2 blocks to a small café-bar I remembered from years ago and was pleased to find it was still there. I sat outside and ordered mineral water and a char-grilled chicken salad, and sighed long and deep as I relaxed back into the wicker chair.

Why so much emphasis on Look, Don't Touch? Surely these lonely executives would love a bit of close personal attention. A loving caress on the shoulders to ease away stress, a polite peck on each cheek, Continental style, would do no harm? Why do I find Charlotte so damn sexy? Where did she learn to undress like that? Am I tuning into a lesbian? Why was my credit card already prepared, unless they had already decided to give me the job? So why the 'aptitude test'? Why are the private changing rooms at PROM so large? What I am I going to tell Claud? Do I ever want to see him again? How will I get my stuff over from France? Do I have any stuff in France worth keeping, now I can restock my wardrobe at Passionella's expense?

Then I started to think more rationally as the delicious, olive oil drenched salad slipped down my throat and started to nourish away my distracting hunger. I used my marketing skills to run a rough-cut business plan in my head. 8 outlets, estimated average turnover €500 per hour each, 50 trading hours per week = €10.4m t/o per year. Maximum gross profit margin 50% on luxury goods like theirs (oops, ours) = €5m. There is no way that €5m gross profit per annum will support PROM, pay Linda, Emma, Rachel, Charlotte and now me as indirect overheads who do not sell anything, plus 8 level-twos including Kirsten and, say, 24 level-ones. Plus massive stocks of product, several luxury apartments, unlimited expense accounts, lavish décor, champagne. It doesn't add up, there must be another source of income.

I settled my lunch bill on my new card; the waiter accepted it without question. Then I walked briskly towards the Oxford Street department store where all this had started only yesterday. I was exited about shopping for some clothes so I did not need to borrow from Kirsten, even though the thought of living with her for another few days filled me with eager anticipation. I waltzed through the huge main entrance doors and adopted my new persona of independently wealthy professional woman. I remembered Linda's last words to me: 'Do not blow your cover'.

As I rode the escalator to the Women's Exclusive Fashions floor I invented a convincing character for my new self: proprietor of a small, exclusive Executive Search & Selection recruitment agency, specialising in placing ambitious women in middle and higher management positions in media and entertainment companies. I smiled broadly and launched myself into a generous but selective shopping spree, buying dresses, blouses, tops, trousers, shoes and accessories. My Passionella card was accepted in each department with respect and the kind of eye contact reserved by the store sales staff for special customers. Lastly, I headed for the lingerie department to make my last purchases and to meet Kirsten, recalling that I did not bring her spare apartment key.

I thumbed though the racks and rails of products from Passionella's main competitors, evaluating the quality of the designs, the fabrics and the standards of manufacture. I was approached by several sales assistants and became more aware then ever of their style, manner, tone of voice, appearance and even their choice of perfume, as I started to form a benchmark against which to compare 'our' girls. Finally I moved to the Passionella sales display and was immediately aware of a striking redhead standing off to one side. I rustled idly through the beautiful Passionella products on display, feeling inadequate as I did not yet understand the subtleties of the many styles and designs but enjoying the cool, sensuous touch of the material, the straps and ribbons.

Then, with perfect timing, Fiona – Sales Demonstrator approached and introduced herself politely. I made some small talk and then handed her my Passionella card to gauge her reaction. She smiled politely and enquired about my prospective purchases. I made up some plausible story about my need to purchase several sets of lingerie for daywear, evenings and nights in. She ran my card through the reader to get my profile then invited me to undress in the changing room whilst she fetched some products.

Standing starkers in the smallish room, my heart jumped when Fiona knocked softly, walked in without waiting for a reply and locked the door behind me. She carried an armful of the most exquisite silk, lace, satin and lycra and laid them out neatly. Fiona was probably in her late thirties, a fraction shorter than me and a little fuller in the figure. She carried her red hair in a short, stylish cut and had not concealed her lovely freckled complexion with overly applied make-up.

She helped me to choose three bras in varying designs and suggested two or three pairs of panties to match each one, but in different cuts. As I tried on each item she helped me to adjust it for a perfect fit and was honest when a colour of shape did not suit me. I admired myself from all sides in the large mirrors and liked what I saw. Every piece was supremely comfortable and made me intensely aware of my own body. My favourite was a deep cerise sheer bra with lace trim along the top edges of the cups that continued up the inner edges of the shoulder straps. I selected deep sheer briefs that all but covered my navel. All the time, Fiona stood close to me in the small room but never touched me once.

Then she showed me some more exotic items and I tried on two basques that came down to the tops of my hips. I enjoyed the sensation created by the tightness around my waist and chose the navy blue one with detachable suspenders and shoulder straps. One sumptuous Passionella garment after another encasing the most precious parts of my tingling body, followed by the fresh air around my now barely-covered pussy, rekindled the feelings that I had suppressed after my experience with Charlotte in the Private Room. I took a deep breath to regain my composure.

Fiona had an easy, reassuring manner and knew her products well. With this being my first visit as a card-carrying Passionella client, she would not be expected to model for me; even with my limited knowledge of Passionella's expectations, I couldn't fault her. In fact, I liked her and she made me feel good about myself. Finally I selected two pairs of embroidered silk pyjamas and a short satin nightie; I authorised the card transaction and looked around for Kirsten.

I had not seen her before I went into the changing rooms but immediately recognised her from behind when I turned away from the pay point. I waited until she had finished talking with a client and approached her. I desperately wanted to throw my arms around her and kiss her right there in the store. I wanted to show her what I had just bought, to tell her all about the interview and I wanted to scream 'I got the job'. But frustratingly I could do none of these. I had a new set of rules.

"Excuse me, could you recommend a good place to get coffee, where I could meet a friend." Kirsten smiled broadly at me and had already smelt the sweet scent of success that oozed from every pore of by body. "The cappuccino bar on three is usually quiet at this time of day" replied Kirsten, followed by a discreetly-whispered "see you there in ten minutes." I was so happy I couldn't contain a girlish giggle of excitement.

Kirsten sat down next to me and sipped at the large latte I had chosen for her. We talked endlessly about my interview with Emma and I told her all about what happened in the Private Room. She was not at all surprised; she admitted that she had given me a glowing recommendation. We then discussed our plans for the rest of the day. We would meet at her apartment later; we had to take care not to be seen together so as not to raise suspicions about my status as a Passionella client. I offered to order pizza and Kirsten said she would pick up some cold beers. She gave me her door key, and blew me a kiss. I found the whole scenario very exiting, the subterfuge added to my enjoyment.

I let myself in and dumped all my heavy shopping on the floor. Kirsten would be back in about 30 minutes so I just had time to rest and collect my thoughts. I undressed down to my lingerie (I was still wearing the silk butterflies bra and panties that the sexy Charlotte had put on me) and as I lay back on the sofa, my head filled with powerful images from the Passionella Private Room.

I must have fallen asleep because I was woken with a start by the doorbell. I jumped to my feet and rushed to open the door and Kirsten stood admiring me in my new underwear. "You lucky girl" she mused, "that design isn't even in the shops yet. Judging by how it looks on you, it will be a huge success. You look ravishing."

What, I wondered, would I have said if I had opened the door to find the pizza delivery boy there instead?

Kirsten stepped in and closed the door. I opened my arms to give her a big hug but she moved away. "LDT" she reminded me, cocking her head slightly to one side. "What, even in private?"

"Yes, always – Linda's rules." I felt desperately frustrated.

"Show me what you bought then," insisted Kirsten with a huge smile. I unpacked my bags and laid out my new clothes and accessories on Kirsten's bed.

"Wow," she exclaimed, and I pulled on a long, narrow sleeveless evening dress in dark bronze with a high neckline. "Oh" sighed a disappointed Kirsten; "I can't see your boobs in that." Just as well; the pizza delivery arrived and I opened the door to him. Kirsten and I sat down in a few minutes of quiet and satisfied at least one of our needs. Then I put on some new high-heeled shoes and tottered about with a beer in one hand, chattering endlessly about my new wardrobe. She sat and enjoyed the show, making encouraging noises and giving helpful suggestions on mixing and matching.

I noticed a change in the tone of her voice when she asked to see me in my new underwear. Not wanting to miss the fun, I suggested that Kirsten undresses down to hers too so I didn't feel at a disadvantage. She agreed and stood up, facing me. Slowly and deliberately, she reached behind her back and pulled down the zipper of her burgundy dress. Slipping her arms out of the sleeves she dropped it to the floor, stepping out of it with care so as not to catch the high spiked heels of her ankle boots. She looked stunning. She was wearing a white lacy bodysuit with opaque satin panels at the sides that followed and accentuated the curve of her narrow waist. It had under-wiring to fit the cups neatly under the curves of her boobs and high-cut legs that accentuated the vee of her pussy-mound. What sort of woman goes to work in a shop wearing such sensuous underwear?

I complimented her in return and turned to the bed. Picking up one of my new bras, pale blue satin with light padding, I realised that there was no alternative; I had to undress in front of Kirsten, right here in her apartment. Somehow it felt different from the safe environment of the store changing room. The atmosphere was charged with sexual energy as Kirsten adopted a highly provocative pose, turned slightly to one side and with hands on her hips. She was still wearing her boots, which caused her stand with her pelvis slightly tilted. I reached behind me to undo the clasp of my butterflies bra, a move that pushed my rounded boobs forward. I breathed in deeply then exhaled; this released the tension on the bra catch, but not in my mind. I slipped off the shoulder straps and allowed my silk to fall away from my breasts. I watched as Kirsten's blue eyes flashed from one partly erect nipple to the other and back, finally making contact with my own eyes. She moved edgily to shift her weight onto the other leg and I continued with my show.

Becoming more excited by the effect I am obviously having on Kirsten, I felt more bold and confident and I chose next to slip off my panties before I donned the pale blue satin bra. Hooking my thumbs in the waistband, I wriggled my hips and pushed the silk briefs slowly down my hips one side a little then the other, as if they were a very tight fit. I enjoyed the suspense that this delay created and saw that Kirsten was enjoying it too. Not wanting to give away too much too soon, I turned sideways to the bed before finally removing my briefs, quickly picking up one of the new pairs that matched the blue satin bra I had selected. I slipped them up my legs and pulled them neatly into place on my hips. They were more skimpily cut than those I had just removed and they slipped easily between my legs. I turned back to face Kirsten who was now sitting on a chair a little further away. She nodded approvingly, saying nothing.

My pale blue bra had a front fastening so I put it on like a waistcoat, which again forced me to push my arms back and thrust my breasts forward. Kirsten enjoyed this immensely and broke the silence by complimenting me on my shape as I set the wide decorated straps carefully on my bare shoulders. Pulling the cups over my boobs, I felt the cool fabric against my protruding nipples that, far from defusing their sensitivity, only caused them to stiffen and grow larger, sending indescribable messages back and forth to my pussy. I closed the front catch, which was fashioned in the shape of the Passionella Lips logo.

Kirsten commented on the fit: "Julia, you look absolutely brilliant in that. I love the way it pushes your boobs upwards and together very slightly. Instead of creating an aggressive cleavage, I can clearly see the curved inside surfaces of your boobs. They look great."

Finally, I took a long gold waist-chain from its velvet-lined box and attached it securely around the narrowest part of my body. The remaining few inches of chain led down from my neat navel and continued their journey towards but not quite as far as my briefs.

"Come over here and give me a closer view," Kirsten suggested.

I took a few steps forward and squatted a little so the seated Kirsten could admire my curves. I turned from side to side and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I hardly recognised the woman I saw and the sight of my own body in profile turned me on. My boobs looked prouder than ever before and my tummy was taught and smooth. My legs looked longer too, accentuated by the high-cut legs of my matching pale blue my panties. Forgetting that Kirsten is watching my every move, I twisted and turned some more then stood with my back to the mirror. I looked over my shoulder to admire the way the satin clung to my rounded bum cheeks and nestled warmly into the crack between them. Facing the mirror again, I hooked my index fingers under the narrow side straps of the panties and pulled them higher on my hips.

"Does this look better?" I enquired. I did not hear her answer as I became lost in the wonderful sensation between my legs as I pulled the fabric tighter still. I found that if I rocked my pelvis from side to side, I could pull the panties higher and higher right up to my waist chain. The long end of the chain now reached down inside the front of my panties, leading Kirsten's eyes downwards, like a pointing signpost. The satin enveloped my pussy in its warm caress and the soft edge seams pulled tighter and tighter into the folds where my inner thighs meet the tender flesh of my outer labia. I looked in the mirror and see a damp patch on the light blue as my juices seeped through.