It was when we were cleaning things up a bit that bad-girl Talia ’fessed up to the fact that she actually lived with her father, not her ‘lesbian’ mother. The porno magazines and DVD’s were his, the many, many sex toys hers.
Come Dressed Up …
by Kitty Meadows
You’d be surprised if you saw me in my underwear. I don’t seem the sort of girl who’d love garter belts and silky camisoles, shamelessly low-cut bras and frilly knickers. People might look at me and think, Hmm, matching white M&S cotton. But they’d be wrong. It’s my one indulgence. I rarely drink and never smoke, I’m never overdrawn, I always remember birthdays and yes, even have a fully paid-up pension plan. I know to the outside world I seem pretty dull, but, secretly, I spend hundreds on my lingerie addiction and almost no one knows.
My ex-boyfriend and I used to plan mini-breaks around designer lingerie stores; we’d travel to Bath and Brighton, to Prague and Paris. I’d stock up on jewel-coloured negligees, G-strings and balcony bras with ruffles. I adored the little dressing rooms the shops always had and felt fearless inside their brocade-curtained cocoons. I’d boldly parade in front of him in soft little wisps of silk and lace knowing that when we got back to the hotel with the expensive bag with its expensive tassels swinging from my hand, I’d put it all on again and then he’d take it all off, very slowly and we’d have hard, hot, fast sex that would made me gasp and feel so good. Oh – and once we bought a waspie-waisted under-bust corset; and the sex! It was more passionate and exciting than ever. It was sex-in-the-movies sex! Head thrown back, eyes tight shut, mouth wide open and my whole body shaking with the kind of orgasm you only ever read about in books.
I love that corset.
I loved how it nipped in my waist, held my curves like an embrace, its shiny black satin cupping just under my breasts, pushing them up and scooping them juicily together. I loved the reckless girl I became in my corset, sexy, freed by the restriction of its severe cut, I was hyper-aware of the generous curves of my body reshaped into a cartoonish figure of eight and my breath was shallow when I was tightly laced into it. Best of all, I loved how powerful I felt when I wore it. Powerful but a little helpless too, which I guess was what made it so sexy.
As you can imagine, I’m on a lot of mailing lists and that night I’d been invited to the opening of a new lingerie store in the next town. I wasn’t going to go. I was sad after the break-up, it had been a few months and I was in that stage where you’re convinced you’ll never have sex like that again; I went to my wardrobe and pulled out the corset. I closed my eyes and fingered its stiff satin, stroked the silvery clasps which fasted at the front and shivered at the memory. My eyes snapped open; sod it! I’d been so focused on work and I hadn’t treated myself for months … a different town, going alone. Maybe this could be fun.
The invite said to ‘… come dressed up!’ so I tried something I’d seen in a magazine. I wore one of my crisp short-sleeved white cotton blouses teamed with a nipped-in pencil skirt and fastened the corset over the top. I couldn’t lace it too tight on my own but it looked great. I rifled through the hat box where I kept all my boudoir bits and bobs and secured a jewelled fascinator in my hair and finally slicked a bright scarlet lipstick, which I’d never dared wear out of the house, across my lips.
I looked in the mirror, could I really go out like this? I shrugged. Maybe this wasn’t really me, I told myself, maybe it was the corset, making me behave badly!
In darkness I arrived at the shop, I could see it, all pinky lit, its windows festooned with gorgeous goodies. I parked nearby and in the shadow of a tree tugged my outfit together, re-applied my lipstick and then walked towards the shop. I tried the handle. Locked! I gingerly tapped at the door, waited a second and then walked away. I knew I should have stayed at home.
“There you are! So you could make it after all, but you’re late!” cried a voice.
I turned around and in the doorway was an impatient-looking woman with the smallest waist I’d ever seen and the most amazing cleavage. She too, was wearing a white blouse with a black skirt and a jet black sequined bustier corset! But unlike me, she’d unbuttoned the blouse way past what I considered decent. I couldn’t help gaping at her breasts. They were incredible, so creamily pale spilling out from her shirt. I looked down; maybe I could stand to undo just one button? At least I wouldn’t look out of place. I smiled and walked towards her.
“Thanks so much for asking me, am I really late?” I said as I walked inside, “I thought it began at 8 p.m.”
“Guests arrive at 9 p.m.” she snapped. “I’m Nadine, you were meant to be here at 7 p.m., why did you say you couldn’t come?”
“I didn’t! I’m … I am a guest!” I told her, but she’d turned her back on me and was racing down the stairs. “Hello?”
“Come ON!” she shouted, “Down here!”
I sighed and took a quick look around the shop, it was incredible, rack after rack of lacy bras and panties, a whole wall of spangled corsets and bustiers – oh, I couldn’t leave, not without buying something.
“Are you coming?” the voice from downstairs shouted, so I cried out, “Yes!” and walked slowly down the stairs. I knew I should have stayed at home. I hated to draw attention to other people’s mistakes, it always really embarrassed me.
I swiftly scanned the downstairs area, it was where they kept their toys; vibrators and butt plugs, anal beads and lube, my eyes whipped around the room and I could feel myself blushing. I tried to gather my courage together to explain to Nadine her mistake but stopped when I focused on what she was saying,
“… so as a new girl, you do, of course, get 50% off anything you want at the end of the night. Is that OK?”
“Half off?” I looked at her. “OK, what do I do?” Clearly whoever she thought I was wasn’t coming, so I could get twice as much as I wanted upstairs. A bit of light shop work for an hour or two had to be worth it.
“Coat off, please.” She held her hand out to me and then tutted and shook her head. “Who laced you into that? It’s falling off! Turn around.”
I meekly spun around and submitted to her ministrations. She began by loosening my corset and then she started to fasten me into it, far tighter than I was used to. I could feel my waist getting smaller and smaller but my tits were being jacked up absurdly, they were almost under my chin! They strained perilously under my buttons, I felt a little faint.
“Isn’t that a bit tight?” I asked.
She laughed at me, “Funny girl, we’re only half way there!” and she continued pulling the laces tighter and tighter. My hands fluttered down to feel my new shape. I was incredibly curvy, my waist just tiny, my hips swelled out sensuously and my breasts, oh God, I had no idea I could look like this at all. I was so entranced by myself that I barely uttered a word of protest as she swiftly undid three buttons so my cleavage too, was a voluptuous work of wonderment, just like hers.
“There.” She nodded, “Now you’ll do.”
I turned around and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know the girl who looked back. She was sexy; she was so at ease with her body that she flaunted it to its best advantage, showing off her boobs, her bum and her hips. She was incredible. I took as deep a breath as I could manage. She was me!
“So, Lily, you’re on toys tonight, have you tried the Excelsior range?”
I shook my head. Lily. That was a good name, certainly far more exotic than my own. Lily. I liked it. Nadine was now beckoning me over to a lavish display of vibrators, instead of the usual plasticky pinks and purples these were actually quite beautiful. They seemed to be made of glass with flower petals and gem stones captured inside. Curious, I picked one up; its end was gently curved, I hefted it, really – it was the width of a perfect cock – not too big, not too small. It was cool to the touch but quickly warmed from the heat in my hand.
“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” she smiled. She leaned over and took it from my hand and turned the base, I could hear a buzzing sound. “They
are unlike any others on the market, they look like glass but they’re not, which is how come they can have a vibrating function too. Try it!” She passed it over.
I quickly held it to the back of my palm. “Um, lovely.” I said. I was embarrassed; I didn’t know how you were meant to try out a vibrator! Maybe this wasn’t a great idea after all. I knew I should have stayed at home.
She laughed, “Not like that!” she took it from me and looked at me quizzically. “You haven’t worked with me before, have you?”
I shook my head. “Then you really need to have a quick training session, we’ve got half an hour.” She smiled impishly and boldly rubbed the tip of the vibrator across my shirt, teasing my breasts, I could feel my nipples instantly spring to life. Hugely embarrassed, I stepped away but backed into the wall.
“I don’t, I mean, I’m not …” I trailed off. I didn’t know where to go with that sentence. If I admitted who I was, how bad would that look? ‘Hi, I’m here to get cheap stuff?’ Better to try and pretend this wasn’t happening, especially as my body seemed to have an agenda of its own. I could feel a familiar squirming inside; this was really turning me on. She began to circle my breasts with the vibrator, softly then harder, soft then hard, flicking at my erect nipples which were shamefully poking through my satin half-cup bra and pushing at my shirt.
“You can see that it’s really a very fine product, you need to remember all this for when the customers arrive,” she continued, “and, of course, that’s just the start of the range. You carry on with that and I’ll show you one of the others. She took my hand and placed the buzzing vibrator in it, mutely I carried on stroking my breasts with it. My face was on fire, I was probably the same shade as my lipstick, but she looked pleased.
“I think you’d be more comfortable if you sit down, don’t you?” She gestured towards the ornate day bed in the corner of the room. It was covered in bras and half slips, camisoles and garter belts. I awkwardly cleared a space and sat down and gasped when I looked at what sitting in the corset did to my breasts. Oh God, even bigger, straining even more against my shirt!
“In fact,” she continued, “you’d probably be more comfortable if this was a bit looser, wouldn’t you?” I assumed she meant my corset and nodded, but was amazed when she deftly unbuttoned my shirt and pushed my bra down so my nipples were fully exposed. She pulled the shirt down across my arms so it held them to my side.
Trapped!
I closed my eyes, if only I wasn’t so turned on! I should just walk away but I couldn’t. I’d fantasised about being with another girl but I’d never, you know, done anything. This was like a dream, a very wet dream, I could feel my best Myla panties getting increasingly damp and in a trance I deliberately flicked the vibrator across my bullet hard nipple and let out a small whimper.
It hurt.
It felt good.
What next?
She was now perched at my knees with three other vibrators. I felt like Goldilocks, one was far too big, one was too small and yes, there was one that looked just right.
“We’ll start with the Excelsior Mini!” she said brightly, “Try to remember everything so you can tell customers later.” Matter of fact, she pushed up my skirt and slipped an exploratory hand between my legs. “You’re very wet,” she observed, “I’m glad the agency sent me such a quick study. Some girls,” she carried on in a confiding manner, “can’t even get this wet no matter what you do. I’m very pleased that you can, it makes it all a bit easier, don’t you think?”
I was stunned into silence and hopelessly turned on; I could feel a snail trail of desire stickily dribbling through my panties. I didn’t care what happened now, just so long as she touched my pussy, I was aching to be touched, to be filled up. I squirmed on the couch, eyes wide, waiting to see what she would do next. She took the smallest vibrator, pulled my legs apart and zipped it across the soaking crotch of my knickers and then she pushed it against my clit, slipped it under my pants so it rested directly against me. I cried out and she smartly pushed my legs together again, securing it buzzing away against me. I couldn’t help but rock against it. I wanted more.
“This is the mini,” she said, “it’s perfect for playing with the clit and has three different speeds operating from this remote.” She waved a slim box at me. “Slow … medium … and fast.” The pulse between my legs throbbed harder, harder and then unbearably hard, I leaned back, unable to carry on stroking my breasts, I wriggled to get to the best position, I could feel an orgasm near but it kept slipping out of reach, I straightened my legs, crossed them, shifted desperately on the couch to try and pin it down.
She laughed, “You’re going to work out great,” Nadine beamed, “but you’re a bit restless, aren’t you? Let me help you with that.” She got up and pulled my arms out of my shirt, then reached behind the couch and pulled out a pair of fluffy handcuffs, “Hands out!” she said. I was utterly her slave now; I’d do anything, anything at all, as long as she didn’t stop. Mutely I reached my wrists towards her. She cuffed my right then tugged it behind my back, securing the left one too. Now I really was helpless, my breasts thrust out in front of me, rising and falling rapidly as my breath grew more and more shallow thanks to the mini buzzing away busily between my legs. I didn’t see how this was helping and was about to say so and beg for release when she pulled my legs apart again and, helping me stand up, tugged my knickers down. I shakily stepped out of them and then fell back on the bed as she reached up and laughingly pushed me over, I cried out in surprise and was stunned when she stuffed my pants in my mouth.
“That’s better; I don’t want you disturbing anyone.” She winked and picked up the two other vibrators, looked at them both as she discarded ‘just right’ in favour of ‘too big’. I pulled my knees together with trepidation but she just caught my left ankle in her hand and snapped a cuff on that too, linking the other end to the bed head board. I was now splayed open, vulnerable, arms caught behind my back and unable to protest as my mouth was stuffed with my muskily wet panties.
She picked up the mini from the floor where it had fallen and held it against my clit, my hips bucked as I finally got closer and closer to coming. I could feel the bigger vibrator in her hand now, stroking across my right thigh which I couldn’t help but let fall, giving her complete access. I was focused completely on what would happen next. Surely it was too big? I could feel the tip nuzzling at my entrance, I was so wet, so swollen with desire that it easily slipped inside. I tensed and was amazed to feel it slide easily in and out, slowly and then faster.
“You see the maxi isn’t as big as it seems if it’s used in tandem with the mini,” she intoned, “it does, however, have quite a strong vibrating pulse …” she turned it on and my hips shot towards the ceiling, I screamed with pleasure and felt a wave of the hardest deepest orgasm crash over me, reducing me to mumbling, wriggling wetness. “… and it’s shaped perfectly to hit that elusive G spot,” she added.
That had to be it. I couldn’t move, shackled to the couch, I was exhausted with pleasure. But no, she hadn’t finished with me yet.
“Do you think you can persuasively sell those?” she asked. “You’ve seen their benefits?”
I nodded, coughing a little on my gag.
“Well, just one more to show you then and we’re through.” She picked up ‘Just right’ and grabbed a tube of lube too.
Now, I know some girls like their asses played with, but I’d never dared, it seemed too dirty, too rude to even think about. But I could see her lubing it up, a smile playing across her perfect lips.
“Let’s untie you, make things a little easier,” she said and undid my ankle. She gave it a thoughtful rub and then pulled me on to the floor beside her. I crashed down and she rolled me over, so I was on my side, cuffed wrists at my back with my skirt rolled around my waist, my knickers still stuffed in my mouth. I let out a squeal of protest and she stroked my hair.
“I don’t believe in inflicting pain.” She reassured me as I
lay bound and gagged at her knees. She slipped a hand between my thighs and I felt the mini buzz into life again, “Not without enough pleasure to make it interesting, anyway.” She added as an afterthought and reached behind me. I felt something cold and wet poke between my cheeks, oh God, I really wished I’d stayed at home. No discount could be worth this humiliation.
“Lily, this is the midi, you can use it alone or for best benefit, team it with the mini or maxi. You can probably tell by now that everything is easier, far less challenging if you just make everything else pleasurable enough. Oh and relax!”
I felt my whole world boil down to just this: the essence of pure pleasure. My knees locked to hold the mini in place. It teased an exquisite and intense sensation from my clit which pulsed in waves around my whole body. I understood that if I relaxed, then the midi would slowly, insistently, slide inside my untouched ass and it wouldn’t hurt. I could feel myself becoming full. So full. It felt unbearably humiliating but it was already impossible to contemplate ending it, I was alive with new sensations. The woollen rug rough against my face on the floor, the lace, soaked now, in my mouth, the feeling of the midi, in and out and in and out, I began pushing against it. I wanted more, I could feel myself losing control, I was shaking with the orgasm that was building and then there it was, I screamed and bucked, I felt my arse tighten, my thighs rigid I rolled on the rug and then, when it had shaken every part of me, it left me dizzy with unimagined pleasure.
She gently pulled the maxi out and stopped the mini. Flicked the panties from my mouth and uncuffed my wrists.
“I’ll just give you 5 minutes to pull yourself together and then you can join the others upstairs. Just try and remember everything I’ve shown you and I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She looked at her perfect figure in the mirror, made some minute adjustment and then picked her way up the stairs without another word.
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