Pleasure in Control Ch. 09

I pulled on my stockings and stepped into my flowing skirt before slipping my arms into the smooth-satin lined sleeves of my wrap-over jacket. I admired the effect in the long mirror, twisting and leaning to replicate the positions I might have reason to adopt later that morning. I thought I may have overdone the sensual seductress bit as all the world would be convinced I had no bra under my day clothes and yet no-one, not even Rachel, has breasts that shape without any support. I laughed out loud with self-satisfaction and leaned forward one last time to check that the most determined voyeur might see the teasing sculpted edges of my bra cups should they try hard enough. The tops of my stockings were visible if I stood with my legs apart, causing my skirt to ride up, but not when I walked.

The excitement was reaching my pussy and I feared that I would spoil my lovely briefs with my juices so early in the day. In a moment of madness, I decided to travel to Regent Street by tube rather than taxi, just to see the effect I would have on my fellow travellers. The outrageous risk to my personal safety did not enter my head as I slung a small bag over my shoulder and strode out into the street.

The journey was easily as amusing and entertaining as any confirmed observer of the lecherous side of human behaviour could have wished for.

The doorman at the Regent Street fashion and furnishings store opened the large ornate door wide for me and smiled discreetly. I slipped a small coin into his hand. I wondered what he might slip into his hand that night if he'd been able to witness what I had planned for Linda.

I browsed through the day and evening wear sections of the store and enjoyed the polite and helpful attentions of the staff who recognised me as an irregular but loyal customer. I sat at the counter of the espresso bar on a high stool, oblivious to the attention my stocking-clad legs attracted, whilst running over my plans for Linda's enjoyment and, hopefully, her release from the chains of her auto-celibacy.

I strolled discreetly into the Passionella sales display area, trying not to attract too much attention too soon and browsed through the beautiful items on show.

I noticed a slightly-built young woman sporting a Passionella badge standing near to the private changing rooms. She made brief eye-contact with me then looked away again. A less well-trained shop girl might have rushed up to me and asked if she could help. But no, this young lady gave me all the time I needed to browse but ensured she always stood where I could see her so I could invite her over with the smallest nod or gesture.

But where was Linda? I hoped she hadn't altered her itinerary at the last moment - I'd double-checked with Emma earlier that morning. Then to my relief I saw her emerge from the storeroom looking slightly flustered, arms laden with new stock. I was pleased to see she was experiencing one of the less enjoyable aspects of shop work. Linda had her long, wavy dark hair neatly piled high on her head and wore a smartly-cut high-necked sleeveless dress in corporate burgundy fabric of the very best quality. I strode across to the two women.

Linda made eye-contact for a couple of seconds, long enough to confirm that she recognised me but not long enough to suggest that she was expecting me nor that she resented my presence. I made some inconsequential conversation with the sales Dem who's name was Danielle then turned to Linda and spoke to her as though we had never met before, to avoid raising Danielle's suspicions.

"Could you help me to chose some lingerie please?"

"Of course, that's what I'm here for," replied Linda, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. "Do you have anything particular in mind?" she enquired.

We exchanged pertinent questions and plausible replies. I wasn't being deliberately uncooperative but Linda became edgy when I wouldn't give her much to go on. I picked a few pieces off the rails and asked to try them on but was unable to find the Mesh range I needed to be able to re-enact my session with Helen

"Do you have anything new?" I enquired and Linda turned to the stock she had been carrying. She knew I'd been at the launch so she didn't try to oversell the line. She asked me if I'd like to try something and she helped me to locate the basque and thong I needed.

"We have black or white, the other colours are not yet available. Any preference?"

My perfect cue.

"I'd like to try both in order to decide."

Deep breath.

"If I try on the white, will you model the black for me please? Then I can compare them side by side."

Linda looked at me as though she could kill me but she stayed calm. What could she say in front of Danielle? She had promised her staff she would do everything they are expected to do in the course of her 'back to the floor' week.

Linda selected her size in black and we locked the changing room door behind us, but not before Linda had reassured Danielle: "We won't be long; look after the sales floor please."

As soon as the door was secure, Linda turned to face me. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "You're paid to mystery-shop my staff, not me. Who's checking up on who? What am I going to gain from this? I've been in this business for years and I doubt that you ... "

As Linda ranted at me I put a finger to my lips. "Danielle will hear you. What will she think?"

Then I looked deep into Linda's clear blue eyes and held her gaze. This defused her annoyance and she turned away for a moment, then looked back. She took a deep breath and was about to speak when I started to slowly unbutton my jacket. I'm not sure if she'd really noticed my clothes but she took more interest now as even Linda the professional speculated on what I might or might not be wearing underneath.

I slipped the designer-label jacket off my shoulders, pushing my arms back just as I had when admiring my boobs in the mirror at home. Linda raised her dark, neatly-plucked eyebrows briefly in admiration, and correctly named the precise Passionella style, size and colour of my bra. I congratulated her with a purr and dropped my head forward, looking up at her seductively. I glanced down at my cleavage and back up to hold Linda's stare again.

"Nice?" I asked.

You're a lucky girl, Julia. You wear our products well but that bra makes you look, well, trashy. It's too overtly sexy for day wear."

"But Linda," I purred as I carefully hung my jacket on the rail. "I like to feel sexy and I like to be overt when I'm in the mood. I'm an individual. Do I shock you? Don't forget, the word 'overt' comes from the French for 'open' "

"I've seen it all before," Linda replied with a shrug.

"Not yet, you haven't" I countered, and leaned forward more than was necessary to slip my skirt down over my nylon-encased thighs. When I stood up again, I posed a little then turned through 360 degrees, stopping momentarily to show off each side profile and my back view. Linda seemed to be mellowing a little so I lessened my assertiveness and role-played some more, adopting an affected tone of voice.

"The black is my second choice at the moment," I mused, "but I could change my mind, if you'd kindly model for me."

Linda started to undress, making no attempt to hide her displeasure: "You've tricked me into this. I'll go through with this for the benefit of the company, but I'll see you in my office this afternoon."

She reached behind to the fastening of her modest dress but I motioned her hand away so I could do it for her. I slowly dragged down the zipper, pressing my hand into her back all the way down her spine to her coccyx.

Linda closed her eyes.

I slipped the dress off her shoulders and she wriggled out of it.

Underneath she was wearing a plain camisole over pretty but 'sensible' bra and Panties, which she removed fairly unceremoniously. Her body looked good for her age which I'd previously guessed at 33 years. Her boobs were not exceptionally large and she had a full rib cage so I estimated her to be a 36B. Her nipples were small but with dark, round, perfectly formed areolae.

Linda stepped into the black Mesh thong and set the sides neatly on her hipbones. I picked up the basque and held it so she could put her arms through the straps. She smiled a little and thanked me so I offered to do up the back fastening hooks. She assented; she'd have struggled to do them up by herself; this was definitely a garment to share with a friend.

She was obviously enjoying having someone help her to dress. As far as I knew, she lived alone and although she seemed highly sociable, I didn't think she had many close friends so perhaps she appreciated the intimacy. Or maybe this just reinforced the superior/subordinate relationship between us, like I was her maid. But would she help me?

I turned my back to her so she could unfasten my bra but she made to attempt to. I could see her in the mirror; she was looking down at my all-but-naked bum. "Could you ...?"

"Oh, sorry." She undid me and I peeled the bra off my boobs. I turned around and cupped my breasts tenderly. I massaged them and commented on the feeling of freedom upon being released from one of Passionella's most uplifting products. Linda watched as I squeezed and released them but I wished I could have seen her expression as I bent forward to remove my Panties.

I slid into my white Mesh basque and turned my back to Linda so she could clip me into it but she just stood with her arms folded. I reached behind me and, as I struggled to fasten the hooks, I watched Linda in the mirror. She looked around the room and made disapproving noises. "Hurry up, Julia, " she sighed.

"But Linda, your company sells these products. You need to understand how your customers feel in the changing room situation when they try them on. They need the sales demonstrators to be helpful and make it easy for them, make them feel good about the products and themselves."

"Oh, OK, come here."

I stepped towards Linda but stood facing her so the only way she could fasten me up was to reach her arms around my sides. Our faces came very close together and Linda had to stand back a little to avoid pressing her breasts against mine. I looked straight at her and she tried to avert my gaze. To reach the lower fastenings she had to squat, which must have been hard for her as it put her in an inferior position. It also meant that my tummy was directly in front of her and her nose was barely 8 inches from my pussy. Would she notice my aroma? I was getting more than a little turned on by having the company president clipping me into a tight basque whilst crouched in front of my naked pussy in a locked room. I sensed that the atmosphere was becoming highly charged

I didn't want her to see how swollen my pussy lips were becoming so I stepped briskly into the white Mesh thong and stood next to Linda. We looked at each other in the wall-to wall mirrors.

Linda was the first to speak: "You look good in white, it complements your skin tone. Turn around, please."

I wished she would relax her formality, but I obliged without comment. I turned slowly and sensually, posing coyly at each turn and adopting my best 'photo-studio' glance-over-the-shoulder expression. I faced Linda and leaned forward a little with my shoulders pushed back so my boobs thrust forward prominently. Linda smiled sweetly and commented: "you know all your best features; I'm eternally grateful to Kirsten for recruiting you. You are very popular with the Dems, you know they look forward to your visits to their stores, don't you?"

I feigned a bashful expression whilst savouring her rare compliments. "Thanks, you are so kind. You look good yourself too. Have you ever modelled?"

Linda suddenly looked serious and I apologised.

"I'm sorry if I pried into your personal life; I have no idea what you did before you started Passionella UK"

"Julia," Linda replied in a slightly wavering voice, "no-one at Passionella knows that," then she changed the subject abruptly, asking: "What's it to be, black or white?"

This gave me an excuse to admire Linda's body in close detail before I returned to my role-play persona.

"The black basque is very seductive; the contrast between the mesh and your skin is very, what can I say, Cabaret, do you know what I mean? Whereas my white is more, how can I put it, Girls' School?"

Linda's face turned pale. I needed to defuse the situation quickly; I'd touched a raw nerve but there was something else of Linda's that I wanted to touch much more than that!

Struggling to keep to the plot, I planted my hands on my hips to signal a dilemma. "I have problem. I'm looking for something to wear under a new evening dress I recently purchased. It has a slit right up one side, (I ran my finger up the outside of my thigh), almost up to my waist and I'm worried that the sides of this thong will show (then I ran my finger along the inside of the waistband). Can I try something?" I suggested tentatively.

Linda said nothing and I approached her cautiously. Fingers trembling, I knelt down, unclipped one side of her thong and attached the straps to the vacant suspender clasps on the lower edge of her basque, just as I had with Helen at the product launch. Linda raised her arm slightly to make this task easier so I took that as a sign of approval and shuffled around to her other side and repeated my adjustment to her lingerie.

Linda turned side-on to the mirror and admired the effect. She seemed to like what she saw.

"Hmm, that's a clever idea, we'll have to transfer you to the design department," she quipped sarcastically and continued to move and pose. I sensed that she was warming up.

"Come on, you too, she encouraged, "we're comparing, don't forget." Linda unclipped my thong and expertly attached the Kissing Lips Logo clasps to the bottom edge of my basque in the same way.

Then she pulled my straps tight. "Like it?" she enquired. I was afraid I might lose the upper hand.

"Try it yourself, then you'll know" I countered, my mouth becoming dry as the sexual temperature rose in the room. I moved towards Linda but she completed the job herself, pulling her thong straps taught against her skin. "Oh, yes, that feels much better," she commented, half to me and half to herself as she stood square on to the mirror, straightened her long slender legs and moved her feet slightly apart on the carpeted floor. She rocked her hips a little, seemingly lost in her own thoughts now as though I wasn't there. I sensed she was letting go and allowing her feelings to build inside. She closed her eyes and let out a warm sigh.

When she opened them, she saw the reflection of me standing next to her. I led her on, hoping that she would pick up my rhythm and mimic my movements, like a sexually-charged game of Simon Says. It worked

I rotated my hips clockwise; Linda copied.

I rotated them the other way; Linda copied.

I held my left wrist with my right hand and pressed the back of my right hand against my forehead; Linda copied exactly. It was working; I had Linda eating out of my hand and I proceeded to put on my very best exhibitionist-model-meets-soft-porn-movie-star show and she followed faithfully. I was getting so horny, due in part to the effect of the tight thong between my legs and in part to the whole erotic situation that was unfolding.

But could I actually bring the reluctant, self-denying Linda to orgasm? Without either of us touching her?

We whispered meaningless words of encouragement to each other and I realised that now Linda was taking the lead and I was following. 'Maybe his will be the only way,' I thought to myself, 'maybe Linda needs to maintain her position of authority'.

As if to reinforce this, Linda moved her feet together and stood tall. She seemed to tower over me and she beckoned me to come closer. I knelt in mock submission and I could see her pubic hair parted either side of the thong that was now disappearing into the soft folds of her presidential pussy. Then Linda reached down and roughly pulled the shoulder straps of my basque tighter, transferring the tension down to my thong straps.

'Hey,' I thought, 'that's my plan!' My thong pressed hard against my pussy and I felt my inner lips ooze and slide out around its edges. I tried to keep still to prevent it from rubbing against my clit as I couldn't afford to loose self-control now and come too early.

Still kneeling, I focussed again on Linda. I reached to similarly tighten her basque straps but winced and had to pull back. The effect of stretching up had the same result as Helen experienced in the PROM private room. The extra pull on the basque as I raised my arms pulled my thong hard against my bud, so hard I couldn't bear it. I looked up at Linda in her superior position and batted my eyelashes seductively. Linda smiled a knowing smile.

"Huh, can't you take it? Too much for you? No staying power, my sweet Julia? Now do you realise what you put poor Helen through? What torment she suffered? Eh?"

I panicked. How did she know about Helen? Surely she wouldn't have told the president what we did? That breaks one of the company rules of complete discretion between Dem and client.

I couldn't think of anything to say. I opened my mouth but nothing came out except a long low moan. Linda did not speak but she tightened her own straps with confident, exaggerated movements. She tilted her head back and looked down at me with her lips slightly apart. She ran her tongue along her top lip then back along her bottom lip, leaving a moist trail of sticky saliva. I came out in goose-pimples and a shiver ran down my spine.

Then Linda totally stunned me. She held out her arms on front of her with her wrists crossed and spoke commandingly:

"Do the same to me, like you did to poor Helen. Come on, don't be shy."

She obviously knew what came next so I couldn't feign ignorance. I was now about to bind the wrists of the company president, at her insistence. If I misjudged the situation now I could get fired or arrested.

I stood up gingerly and selected a soft leather belt from the rack of accessories on the far wall. I passed the free end through the buckle to form a loop and slipped it over Linda's hands. Immediately she raised her arms above her head and looked up at the changing room ceiling.

The translucent ceiling was made from canvas stretched over a grid of interlocking metal bars. I hesitated and searched for confirmation. "You want me to ... over the bar .. the belt ...?"

"Just do it, Julia. You know what to do."

But the only way I could reach was to stand on a stool and stretch my arms up high. This caused my thong to tighten between my legs and send a bolt of ecstasy through my pussy, causing me to almost lose my balance. I'm sure Linda would have grabbed me in an embrace to steady me if her hands weren't tethered, and who knows where that might have led.

I tied the belt to the ceiling bars. "Tighter" instructed Linda. I obliged, pulling on the free end of the belt.

Stepping off the stool I stood and stared at Linda. She looked so helpless but so very sexy. Her breasts were lifted high on her ribs and her abdominal muscles pulled her tummy flat and taught like a teenager's. The black mesh thong had all but disappeared into the folds of her pussy and her ample dark pubic hair. She had her eyes half closed and she stood almost motionless.

"Strip!" she commanded me.

What could I say.

"Very slowly." she added.

I put on my very best show. I desperately wanted to take off my thong to remove the pressure on my swollen bud but I couldn't rush my performance. This was going to be a fine dividing line between my own pleasure and hers - could I bring Linda to orgasm before I came myself? Is this what Linda wanted, a challenge, a race to the finish?