Love, Desire & Intrigue. (Part one: First Lesson.) Page 3

  “There are four of us going and until I meet them at the station, I won’t know for sure.” It was a partial lie because I knew that Charles Witham would be going, but he didn’t need to know that.

  James appeared to have accepted that he wouldn’t be able to change my mind, which pleased me. Maybe he was learning to control his temper, I hoped fervently.

  “Well?” he asked, handing the box to me for a second time. I took it from him and gazed down at the ring once again. I carefully contemplated my response.

  “I’ll give you an answer when I get back, babe.” I paused and he remained silent. “I need a couple of days to think about it.”

  “OK. Fair enough,” he conceded. “At least wear it and see how it feels. I’ll feel a lot happier babe, if you feel as though you’re engaged to be married, whilst you’re away.” He said earnestly.

  I could see his point of view and was finding it hard to resist placing the ring on my finger. I gave in and plucked it out and quickly slipped it onto my finger.

  It was a perfect fit!

  “It’s absolutely beautiful, James.” I sighed, staring at the brilliant apparition gleaming back from my finger.

  “Promise me one thing,” he said. I looked up. “Promise me you won’t remove it till you get back.

  “I promise,” I replied.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dangerus.

  I woke early on Friday morning and found that James had already left for work. He works in the City and starts at 8am, whilst I’m lucky, because I don’t have to be in until 9.00.

  I realized that I had been dreaming about the early days of my relationship with James. We first met at a barbeque at a friend’s house. I had just turned 20 and immediately found the attentions of this tall, dark stranger both flattering and enjoyable.

  James’s easy going nature and disarming chatter, quickly broke down the ten year age barrier and I readily agreed to see him again. The relationship quickly blossomed and I didn’t begin to see the darker side of his nature until I had taken the plunge and moved in with him.

  Thinking about the coming weekend, I was a bit annoyed at being distracted by his proposal. I was determined to try and get the promotion at work, and I decided that I should really be focusing on the job opportunity. James can wait I decided.

  Now, as I contemplated my future, lying in bed alone, I took another look at the glittering stone on my finger.

  It wasn’t going to be an easy decision, I realized, but it was going to have to be one that I arrived at by myself.

  I sat up on the edge of the bed, lifted my t-shirt off and headed for the shower. As the hot spray jetted against my skin, I began to think about Charles Witham and his topaz eyes. I imagined myself being called to his office again, not to be given a promotion, but to be punished for a misdemeanour.

  In my fantasy he was telling me to remove my skirt and panties.

  I imagined him in one of the leather chairs, taking me over his knees and spanking me on my quivering bottom, like James had done several times.

  I don’t normally do DIY, as James is so demanding and takes care of all my needs, but I gently began touching myself and before I knew it, I was sliding into an exquisitely intense orgasm.

  Wow, what was that? I asked myself. I stepped out of the shower and returned to the bedroom, where I stood and gazed out of the window, feeling really guilty. We had a stunning view of the River Thames, as it snakes its way through London in the distance, but I couldn’t forget about his topaz eyes.

  I came back to reality and began to wonder what I should wear to the boutique. I had one or two outfits, which I had bought by myself. They were very smart and much more respectable than the tight and skimpy dresses that James preferred.

  I know, I thought, jumping to my feet. I pulled open the wardrobe and lifted out a pale blue jersey dress and laid it on the bed.

  I heard my phone ping, as a message arrived, so I picked it up and found it was from James.

  ‘Didn’t wake you, cos you looked so beautiful! Wish you were coming with me. It’s not too late to change your mind. We’d have more fun together. Love James x x

  I stared at the phone and my happy mood began to dissolve. I wasn’t going to pass up the chance of promotion for a weekend of football and nights out with his mates. Didn’t he understand that! I quickly tapped a reply.

  Sorry babe. Gotta get this out of the way. Might get a promotion! Have a nice day. Miss you. Love Kylie x x

  A couple of days away from James will do me a lot of good, I decided and give me the chance to think about his proposal.

  I turned my attention back to the dress I had chosen. It was a bit short and the neckline was a bit low but I felt it was the classiest item I had in my wardrobe. Anyway, it was mid-June and the forecast was for a week of hot weather, so it would be perfect, I decided.

  I laid out the rest of my outfit and then pulled out my lady shaver. It buzzed a merry tune, as I shaved under my arms and trimmed my vulva. James was always on about me being hairy, so I had got used to trimming my pubes. Besides, it always made me feel naughty after I had trimmed them for him.

  When I had finished, I stood in front of the mirror and examined my curvaceous body. I received lots of complements from men, but I couldn’t help feeling that I was a tad overweight.

  I slipped into some sexy underwear from the items that James had bought me. I chose a matching pink lacy, panty and bra set from the exclusive house of ‘Undirotica’, and then slipped my dress on.

  Three inch blue stilettos, matching shoulder bag and bangle completed the outfit. I looked fantastic! My plan was to get to the boutique early, and then I’d have a few hours back at the flat to prepare for the weekend.

  * * *

  Montague Street runs at the back of the main shopping centre in Chelsea, and is lined mainly with tall Edwardian buildings. I slowly walked up the cobbled street, glancing in the small windows of the many fashion boutiques that proliferated the narrow road.

  I arrived at 44a and discovered that it wasn’t a shop at all. The number was high up on a huge, white Edwardian door, between a hairdressers and a shoe shop. I read the beautiful inscription on the brass plaque beside the door DANGERUS and under the title it read, ‘Exquisite clothing for astute clients’.

  Goodness! I thought, as I pushed the brass bell. This looks very posh and exclusive, slightly out of my league! I had to wait a couple of minutes before the large door swung open.

  A tall woman dressed in a black and white, diagonally striped Jersey frock stood before me. She had a curvaceous figure that was accentuated by the flattering fit of the frock. Long dark hair cut with a fringe, framed her mature face and I guessed she was aged between 35 and 40.

  “Good morning. How may I help you?” she spoke in a soft but brusque manner. I handed her the card, and as soon as her fingers took it from my grasp she flipped it over.

  “Ah, Kylie. Do come in. We have been expecting you.”

  I stepped past her and she closed the door behind me. We were in a long narrow lobby, at the end of which I could see a set of closed elevator doors.

  “This way Kylie.” I followed her down the six foot wide corridor that was lavishly decorated in peach flock wallpaper and matching thick pile carpeting.

  She pushed a button on the side of the elevator and the doors opened immediately. We both stepped inside the small lift space and as soon as the doors closed gently behind us, I was able to study her in the mirror.

  I felt small standing beside this austere woman, who towered at least six inches over me, in her severe black stilettos.

  “My name is Miss Francesca, Kylie. Please use my title when you need to ask me something.” Goodness! That’s a bit formal, I thought. It’s a bit like being at school, and just who was the customer here anyway?

  “Yes Miss Francesca.” I glanced at her and noticed she had emerald green eyes that had a disquieting gleam in them.

  “Good I like to get off on the right footing wi
th my clients.” She smiled.

  When we stepped out of the elevator, Francesca led me along a corridor to a room with the number 3 on the door. It resembled the changing rooms I’d seen in large department stores only larger.

  Along the whole of one wall to my left, was a rail of clothing, beneath which were rowed at least twenty pairs of shoes. On the wall opposite the door and the one I faced, was a huge square mirror, easily eight feet high, making the room look huge.

  To my right were two chests of drawers and a wide dressing table. In the centre of the room stood two small blue easy chairs either side of a low round coffee table. Miss Francesca signalled to me to sit, so I dropped my bag on the table and made myself comfortable.

  “How do you take your coffee Kylie?” she enquired.

  “White with no sugar.” I replied, studying the line of clothes hanging from the rail. I looked back at my host, to find that she was staring down at me with a frosty expression. Goodness, I thought, and added quickly “Thank you Miss Francesca.”

  The tall, sombre woman, slipped out of the room, so I jumped up to examine the rail of frocks. Most of the selection took my breath away. Never in my wildest dreams could I have dreamt about wearing such high quality outfits, let alone owning them.

  Francesca returned with my coffee and looked at me disapprovingly. She held my coffee in one hand and a thick folder of papers in the other. She signalled to me as she laid the items on the table.

  “Please take a seat Kylie, so that I can explain a few guidelines that you will need to follow,” I sat down, picked up my coffee cup and took a sip. Francesca started to open the folder and lay out some sheets of paper.

  “If the company decide to offer you the position, you will be joining a group of ladies that we refer to as External Personal Assistants, EPA’s. She paused to watch my reaction and see if I understood what she was saying. I didn’t like her patronizing attitude.

  “If you are chosen,” she continued. “Then you will enjoy many benefits and bonuses depending on how well you perform with our clients. Do you understand?”

  “Well, Miss Francesca, not really.” I slowly analysed her words again. “I’m a bit confused as to who I’ll actually be working for.”

  “Oh, you will be working for Mr Witham, Mr Morris and the company of course.”

  “Oh, all right,” I replied, pleased by the inclusion of Mr Witham.

  “ Now first I need you to sign this confidentiality agreement. You have already signed a similar manuscript when you joined the company two years ago. This one is much more detailed and protects us from other companies finding out our methods of satisfying our huge client portfolio.”

  I looked into her sparkling green eyes and they were encouraging me to look at the document. I picked it up and started to turn the pages.

  “Why is this one different?” I knew it was a lame question but I didn’t understand the meaning of ‘Satisfying our huge client portfolio.’

  She continued patiently. “Well, you will be trusted with a lot of information, both personal and financial, pertaining to our clients. We have to have a legally binding contract between you and the company, so that you will keep all this information confidential.”

  “Yes, that’s fair enough,” I agreed. Whilst I sipped my coffee I thumbed through about twenty sheets of A4. There were two little yellow markers where I had to sign. I looked up into her insistent eyes and hesitated.

  “Do you work for Mr Witham?” I asked.

  “Mr Witham and I, have a joint working relationship!” she stated boldly, as if I should have known the answer to my own question. I thought better than to ask any more questions, so I picked up the pen and signed the paperwork.

  Once I had put pen to paper, Miss Francesca also signed, witnessing my signature. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had just taken the first step that would change my life forever.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dressed.

  Miss Francesca stood up and turned towards the clothes rail.

  “Now we’ve got that out of the way, let me show you some of your new outfits.” I stood up.

  “Which ones are for me? Err, Miss Francesca,” I asked stepping up to the line of clothes.

  “Kylie, all of these clothes are for you, once you sign your contract over the weekend.”

  I stared at the long line of clothing and my jaw dropped.

  “Surely I don’t need all these?” I picked out a beautiful red evening frock, decorated with sequins and golden thread.

  “Well no, not this weekend, but over the coming weeks you will need these and more. Now, slip out of your dress and shoes,” she said, as though she was giving orders to a child. Then added. “I need to take some measurements to make sure the leather garments are a comfortable fit for your day wear, over the weekend.” She gave me another of her condescending smiles.

  I stepped out of my shoes and then hesitated.

  Goodness! I thought, she’ll see my poor, raw butt cheeks, which were marked from the latest punishment I had received from James. I was suddenly regretting my choice of skimpy panties, which hardly covered my bruised flesh. Somehow, I thought, I must be careful and keep my butt well out of sight.

  I cautiously lifted my dress off and laid it over the back of one of the chairs. I wasn’t a shy person but for some reason, I withered a little under her gaze. She started to take my measurements from head to toe, and I became quite embarrassed when she began to measure the top of my thighs.

  I had opened my legs wide enough I thought, to give her plenty of room, but she still managed to rub the side of her finger along the gusset of my panties. I dismissed it as clumsiness, but when she did it a second time with my other thigh, I began to worry about her.

  Miss touchy-feely sat down with her clip board and lifted the phone.

  “Oh Alice would you send Chantel to room 3 please.” She listened for a moment and put the phone down. I was dying to try on some of the frocks, but felt I needed permission from this serious woman.

  “Er, should I try something on?” I asked.

  “Patience Kylie, I won’t be a minute!” Again, I felt as though I was being treated like a child.

  I felt a bit silly waiting in just my underwear, whilst she farted about making notes. She looked up from her clipboard.

  “Shall we start with underwear?” When I looked around the room, she stood up and pulled out a wide drawer from one of the chests.

  It was full of exotic lingerie in every colour imaginable, all neatly folded into sets. She lifted out a pink set and knelt down in front of me holding out the tiny panties as if she wanted me to step into them.

  “Slip out of yours and try these on Kylie.” I stared down at the kneeling woman and hesitated. I was cornered and her assertive command triggered something in my mind.

  It was so unexpected, I found my thumbs were in the elastic of my lace panties and I was working them down my thighs. I dropped them to the floor, squeezing my thighs together, and covered my neat triangle in one motion.

  “No need to be shy Kylie.” Her comment had an edge to it, and again I felt I was being reprimanded. Just as I was about to lift my foot, the door swung open and startled me.

  A girl entered, dressed in a black satin dress. She acted as if seeing a naked client was a perfectly routine thing at Dangerus. I stood there dumb struck. Not just because I was standing naked in front of two complete strangers, but because the girl had curtsied! Goodness, what sort of business are they running here, I wondered?

  “Ah Chantel, I want you to take over for 10 minutes.” She said turning to her assistant. “Would you help Miss Kylie try on some of her lingerie?”

  “Yes Mistress Francesca,” She did another curtsy, before Miss Touchy-feely handed the pair of pink panties to her.

  The girl’s dress had a high neckline a tight bodice and flared skirts below a tight belt. I thought it was a beautiful dress, but the skirts were too short. Her outfit was completed with white stockings and shin
y black, Mary Jane shoes.

  I froze for a second and watched as the girl knelt before me and unravelled the panties. I lifted one foot, then the other, as the girl guided the tiny garment up my legs.

  It was a very strange feeling to be dressed, and I wanted to take over when the garment was within reach, but she continued until the panties were in place. They were tiny lace shorts, and had lace-up panels either side, with thin satin bow ties.

  “They seem to fit perfectly Kylie.” Miss Touchy-Feely was hovering. “Chantel will dress you in the rest of your underwear and when I get back we’ll try on your leather suit.”

  As she left the room Chantel started to unclasp my bra. I wasn’t half as embarrassed about showing my lovely boobs off and allowed the teenage girl to remove my bra, and dress me in the new one which was delightful.

  Next came a matching corset, which was steel boned and had a row of clasps that were difficult to engage. I had to breathe in deeply, but Chantel seemed adept at locating the little metal studs.

  After she had tightened the laces down my back, I checked in the mirror and estimated that the corset had taken at least two inches off my waistline. The garment was so tight, I wondered how long I would be able to bear wearing it in one go.

  “You have a lovely figure Miss Kylie.” the girl commented as I stood back to admire myself in the mirror.

  “Oh, thank you Chantel.” I twisted and turned watching my reflection, and forgot the embarrassment of being dressed by this young woman.

  “Would you like to take a seat Miss?” The girl asked.

  I sat down on the edge of the chair and watched her, as she removed a pair of white hold-ups from a packet. I offered my foot, as she began to feed the shiny material up my leg.

  “I can do this Chantel.” I offered.

  “Oh no Miss, this is my job. Please let me dress you.”

  “How old are you Chantel?” I asked and noticed the girl seemed reluctant to answer my questions.

  “I’m 18 Miss, but I’m not supposed to talk to clients. It’s company policy Miss.” She kept her head down whilst she carried on with her task.